Raj sat alone inside of her extra-dimensional library, having adjourned the strategy meeting with the other ladies of Ariel’s Gate and Thornwhisper.

  The lich queen disguised as an elf was an entity that even Raj’s newly expanded mind couldn’t quite fathom, and had gone to consult with Tabula about something. Nadira was an actual djinn with an unbelievable affinity level for time and spatial concepts, and had borrowed several tomes on the topic before departing. Sapphire, the Almiraj capable of Forbidden Magics such as Duplication and Transmutation had returned to her administrative work within EDEN.

  Raj remained, making rapid preparations for the imminent attack that they had concluded was forthcoming. Hundreds of tomes floated in the air around the Shadow Phoenix, their pages turning methodically.

  She had been working around the clock ever since her evolution. Her former tengu body truly had been a pitiful thing, requiring daily sleep and sustenance in order to function and even survive. Her bones had been brittle and light to assist her pseudo-magical flight like all tengu, making her weak against physical attacks. Every single infirmity that had once held her back had been erased with two words: Soul Brand. She currently was devoting a tiny shard of her mind to researching her own evolution, and the man that had caused it.

  Lord Gray’s Soul Brand flew in the face of convention, much like every other aspect of the man. Common sense stated that only certain mythical creatures, such as those approaching or already in the realm of godhood could ever hope to Brand even a handful of followers. Among those Branded very few were much stronger than their original selves, with full racial evolution being regarded as pure myth.

  The creation of a second Ash Huntress, the birth of the Ragnarok Titan, and her own Shadow Phoenix evolution weren’t just outliers. They were broken rules entirely. Each of those three entities were unique beings, all sharing one common factor. According to her research in Mimir’s Library, they were all former members of a certain adventuring party that terrorized evil long before the Shattering, a time unknown to all but the very oldest of entities. The leader of that party went by a name that had been popping up all too often lately: Polemios.

  The scattered strands were beginning to weave themselves into a tapestry with each new discovery. It all pointed to one thing…

  A tug on her consciousness brought all of her parallel minds back in line to focus on the urgent message from her familiars. The mystical ravens’ voices squawked back and forth in her thoughts.

  “...Hostile Invasion Detected.”

  “Threat Level: Special...”

  “...Spatial Evacuation: Affirmative.”

  “Teleportation Barrier breached at 32.6:12:19.1...”

  “...Probability of False Alert: 0.02%”

  “Initiate Spell Sequence C.” Raj immediately went into action, and thirteen feathers flew out of her dark wings, glowing iridescent purple. Seven vanished immediately, their effects resolving in the outside world and issuing various alerts to the elites of EDEN. The remaining six remained, fixed in the air behind Raj. Their effects were varied and potent, ready to activate in an instant.

  Two dependable allies were already in the vicinity, so she allowed herself a few moments to prepare some additional countermeasures.

  With a wave, the portal to Mimir’s Library opened at the exact coordinates delivered by her shadow raven familiar. The multitude of tomes quickly flew away and shelved themselves as Raj calmly stepped through the gate of liquid purple energy to greet their uninvited guests.

  “Where the hell is everyone?” The hulking red scaled dragonkin fumed, kicking a cart aside as he strode into the now empty market area of Ariel’s Gate. The sturdy cart was loaded with fresh pelts, and it flew end over end a dozen meters. Pelts and splinters of wood flew out in all directions, making a mess of the immaculate white stone street. “Lord Kutris promised elf and dwarf flesh!”

  “There was no time to evacuate.” A soft androgynous voice agreed from behind him. This speaker was human in shape but wrapped head to toe in bandages inscribed with tightly packed arcane runes. “Wait. Someone’s coming. Two of them.”

  The bandaged being directed the dragonkin’s attention to the odd couple that was casually approaching while having a spirited argument, seeming to ignore the two dangerous invaders.

  One was a woman with a double set of pure white wings and long golden hair - a radiant beauty of mythic proportions. She wore a set of fine mesh armor that clung to her lithe form and swirled with the colors of a starry night sky.

  The other was a short, stocky dwarf in nightmarish black plate armor. It hummed with strange energies even at this distance, and the joints glowed blood red. Wicked blades jutted from the forearms and pauldrons. In place of a helm, the dwarf wore a black and red crown forged of the same material.

  “I’m not giving up my chance to pay him back for helping plant the new celestial oak!” The woman crossed her arms and turned her nose up and away, clearly not willing to debate further.

  “I promised him I’d field test this new World Eater gear personally. This is for work, Saet!” The dwarf argued back. “Oh! Looks like there’s two of ‘em. Problem solved.” He amended after finally noticing the invaders.

  “Humph. I should be allowed both of them, seeing as you keep using my first name so flippantly, King Ramthrag.” She put strong emphasis on the dwarf’s title.

  “Aye, Queen Saet.” The dwarf relented a little with a smile. He turned his attention to the large bipedal dragonkin and the mysterious wrapped up humanoid.

  “What… what is going on here!?” The bandaged person took an involuntary step back. “What are the Celestia Dryas and Dwarf King doing here!?”

  “Huh?” The dragonkin looked over at his companion, disdain on his face. “Who cares about a little birdie and a shorty?” The dragonkin confidently strode up to the pair. “Greetings, weaklings! My cowardly ally seems to think you’re some kind of big deal so I’ll give you the honor of knowing my name before I eat you. I am Zanos the Devourer, Disciple of the Cataclysm.”

  “I like him.” Ramthrag said with a huge grin. “Dibs.”

  “Fine.” Saet scoffed. “The other one looks like it’s about to flee anyways.”

  “Should we be careful about the buildings and whatnot?” Ramthrag suddenly asked, looking around with concern that he might have to fight with restraint.

  A shadowy apparition in the shape of a raven appeared on the dwarf king’s shoulder, and the familiar raspy voice of the Shadow Phoenix answered.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “All inanimate objects in the area have been recorded, and can be restored to their current state within three hours. Note that living organic materials are unable to be restored using temporal tethering magic in this way. Please fight to your heart’s content, Mighty King.” The shadow familiar vanished in a cloud of dissolving black feathers, and Ramthrag’s face split into a wicked grin.

  “Another stupid bird?” Zanos grumbled, walking straight up to Ramthrag and glaring down at him with an expression of absolute superiority. “A king of shorties is still just a shorty. You’ll squeal and beg before I eat you.” The dragonkin enacted some skill then, causing his aura to burst out.

  A mix of dragonfear and physical force blanketed the area, any normal creatures would have been forced to their knees or frozen in terror at this.

  The dwarf king tilted his crowned head slightly and narrowed his eyes, as if evaluating the sensation. Then, he sighed and the smile left his face.

  “Understand your place now, little rat?” The dragonkin crowed, puffing up even more as he raised a large hand, black talons gleaming. His incredible aura had clearly stolen the spirit of the dwarf, making him slump in despair, barely able to lift his shoddy weapon.

  The dragonkin began his strike, terrible destructive energy radiating from each talon as they bore down on the soon to be eviscerated dwarf.

  “Aye. This is a problem.” The dwarf agreed. “A weak hatchling like yourself can’t test the durability of this new gear properly.”

  Zanos didn’t register the words as his claws slammed into the black cuirass. He had torn through heavily enchanted steel like paper with that same strike countless times. Blood sprayed into the air, and the dragonkin’s eyes turned from glee to shock, then to agony.

  The moment the force of his blow touched the armor, the material resonated with and then duplicated the energy. That force coursed through the strange material, the momentum aided by the innate destructive properties of the world eater it was forged from. Finally, all of that multiplied and altered energy arced back into the arm of Zanos. A spiral of countless cracks shot up the dragonkin’s arm all the way to the shoulder, and blood burst from them like pressurized fissures.

  To the reptilian beast’s credit, he did not cry out. He merely growled and then opened his jaws wide. A jet of bright flames shot out, engulfing the dwarf whom still looked thoroughly disappointed.

  “A warm breeze fit for drying a beard.” Ramthrag yawned, lifting arms so the fire could hit him everywhere. “At least it gets the bugs off.”

  “Insolence!” The dragon roared, leaping back and clutching his injured shoulder, where his regeneration didn’t seem to be working as expected. “Fine! Know despair. Shadow of the Cataclysm!” The dragonkin’s voice swelled with unnatural power as he activated his apparent trump card.

  During this entire exchange, Saet had not taken her eyes from the mysterious being as she slowly approached it. Based on appearance alone, she was relatively certain of their identity.

  “Tomb Guardian Amel, I presume?” Her voice was clear and cold, cutting through the commotion of the dwarf and dragonkin’s scuffle.

  “The Celestia Dryas is as knowledgeable as her reputation suggests.” The androgynous mummy replied with a bow.

  “If you know of me, then you also know that your curse affinity will be useless in my presence. Have you some means of defending yourself otherwise?” Saet’s starlight katana materialized in her hand, and the third eye normally invisible on her forehead slowly appeared and began to open.

  “I may be able to pester you for a time with more conventional means.” The mummy named Amel replied. “But no, unlike my fool of an ally, I can see no hope of victory against the pair of you. We were led to believe that the few remaining truly powerful beings would be within the fortress, and expected some paltry A rank adventurers left to face us as best. To find two living myths so ready to casually oppose us is catastrophic beyond recovery. Our task was to terrorize the rabble. Given that there is no rabble to so terrorize, my task has been rendered moot. Unless you wish to destroy this vessel on principle, I’ll simply withdraw back to my tomb.” The mummy bowed deeply after the brutally honest confession.

  “You may yet buy your escape with information.” Saet smoothly said, walking closer still. “Tell me what you know.”

  Meanwhile, a glint returned to the eyes of the nearby dwarf king as he looked up and up at the transforming dragonkin.

  His height had doubled to nearly five meters, and intense flames were billowing from his expanded wings. The oppressive aura from before was redoubled, now causing micro fractures to appear in the paving stones all around him. His head had changed shape, several new horns sprouted from his brow and temples, and the muscles in his jaw thickened. His damaged arm finally began to heal rapidly, and new thicker red scales grew over the old ones. Sickly yellow clouds began to form above, and the smell of sulfur and death accompanied the vile shadows they cast.

  “There, was that so hard?” Ramthrag asked with a gravelly chuckle. He allowed his own presence to swell then, and the gathering yellow clouds were scattered. “I am Ramthrag Anvilbane, Forge Sage, and Slayer of Kahuula, the One-Winged Emperor.” The last title dragged out long and deep, and a spark of recognition lit the eyes of the raging dragonkin.

  “Lies!” Roared Zanos. “The great one was defeated by the Hero centuries ago...”

  “Back when gryphons smoked pipes, and mushrooms praised the sun.” Ramthrag affirmed, cutting in with the classic beginning to many dwarven fairy tales.

  “The only thing worse than a cocky shorty is a lying shorty.” Zanos growled, clearly trying to convince himself. “Now die!”

  Ramthrag merely shrugged, and with practiced footwork began to answer the movements of the inflated beast. His battleaxe moved smoothly, never with more speed than necessary. Conversely, the dragonkin unleashed an explosive flurry of attacks with his claws, jaws, breath, and even his spined tail.

  “Seen more graceful troglodytes.” Ramthrag quipped, positioning himself casually out of range of a claw even as his axe head dipped low to easily deflect an incoming tail sweep. “And that’ll be that.”

  A sudden smooth forward hop into a spin placed the dwarf far inside the reach of the overextended Zanos. The dwarf continued his twisting ascent, becoming a blur for a fraction of a second. A wide vertical arc of bright red passed quickly and smoothly through the rampaging dragonkin, who kept swinging for a few seconds, unaware that the two halves of his body were drifting away from one another. His eyes still bore their madness even as they glazed over, several feet apart with a pool of steaming red between them.

  “Well struck, king of Grandring.” The mummy was oddly the first to praise the dwarf. “I’d love to tell you more, but it seems I’ve truly run out of luck.”

  The next moment, the bandages burst into blue flames and scattered into a cloud of fading sparks. A presence descended then, one that made even Saet and Ramthrag stiffen. When the smoke cleared, a new figure stood in the stead of the incinerated mummy. It resembled a silvery golem, a peak of artifice only reachable by one particular god.

  “Hello, children.” Ahura’s dissonant synthetic voice rang through his avatar. “Didn’t expect to see you here, and believe me that’s a compliment.”

  “Ahura-Guru.” Saet identified the being coldly. “So the Mercurius Sovereign has joined the Worm after all?”

  “No, just me.” The machine deity seemed to pause for a moment and spoke more. “Though with the oaf hiding around here somewhere, and the sea witch deposed, I guess I am the entire Mercurius Sovereign now, so allow me to redact that to Yes.”

  “Never chopped a god before.” Ramthrag grunted and spat on the ground.

  “He is beyond us.” Saet said begrudgingly. “Our only hope is to stall him and buy lady Tabula more time.”

  “I appreciate you not insulting my intelligence by whispering.” The golem said as it shifted forward, a movement so smooth it seemed liquid. “Better luck with the next rebirth, little acorn.”

  Before Ahura could commence his attack, he suddenly phased backwards and held his metal arms out in defense. A strange noise erupted from the construct - a scrambled and screeching distortion which made the king and queen reflexively cover their ears.

  When they finally saw what caused the golem’s strange apparent agony, they both gaped. The front of its body had become a smooth plane, melted and ground to a polished finish by a storm of cosmic sand and arcane force.

  A pale skinned figure in a flowing black robe of raven feathers had stepped from the corridors of magic to intercept Ahura. Crackling purple fractals of energy formed and faded all around her, calling to mind the steady breathing of the universe itself. Looking upon such arrays caused pain and nausea to the powerful, and madness or even death to the weak. It was the Primal language of magic, and it bowed before the Shadow Phoenix. Her majestic dark wings shimmered, with each individual feather humming with the might of transcendent level magic.

  “I have business with the Beloved of Truth and Tome.” Raj, Exarch of Ariel’s Gate announced without turning to look at Saet or Ramthrag. “I ask that you reinforce the position at EDEN’s Gate. Lord Rain and Lady Jade await your arrival.”

  Not daring to look a gift horse in the mouth. The queen and king of different nations simply bowed and smoothly departed. Some battles were simply above one’s level.

  “That… hurt?” The mechanical voice sounded confused, an unfitting tone given the source. The voice came from a newly arrived construct that appeared next to the damaged one even as it collapsed into sparking fragments. The fresh construct’s glowing eyes flashed once. Then, as if acting on reflex, it too leaped several meters back.

  “What is the Corvine Empress doing in this world? Improbable. Unacceptably outside of parameters.” The voice sharpened, the construct’s smooth tones warping into something harsher, more urgent. “Leave this field or be regrettably destroyed, Your Majesty. This one genuinely implores you, such a loss of knowledge is simply too egregious.”

  Raj tilted her head subtly, a slow and deliberate movement that seemed to mock the urgency in Ahura’s words. Her wings flared slightly, each feather shimmering with the vibrant, shifting hues of transcendent magic. Her presence darkened the air, and yet the magic around her thrummed as if drawn to her like a moth to flame.

  “The arrogance of the gods never ceases to amaze and disgust.” Raj’s raspy librarian voice caressed the air, carrying with it the gravity of untold eons of knowledge. The ambient magic resonated in response, vibrating faintly with a pleasure that sent a visible ripple through the fabric of reality. “You have erred, Ahura. Take it from a fellow academic, only despair awaits you within that great fortress.”

  The construct hesitated for a fraction of a second—a hesitation that spoke volumes. Then a metallic growl reverberated through the market, low and resonant, the sound of spinning gears and shifting mechanisms. It was the only warning before time and space began to rend themselves apart.

  The once bustling market instantly became a battlefield where physics simply unraveled. Chasms of light and shadow split the air, warping gravity into erratic eddies. Golden arcs of temporal energy danced like lightning, colliding with jagged swirls of blackened void as Raj’s power rose to meet Ahura’s. The machine god’s might was relentless and seemingly endless.

  Raj remained unyielding, her dark eyes fixed on the construct as if cataloging every movement.

  “You’ve spent too long in your sterile realms, Ahura. Let me remind you what chaos feels like.”

  With a single movement, she raised her hand, and the fractals of primordial magic surrounding her began to expand, filling the battlefield with spiraling equations that defied comprehension.

  Every fragment of her power whispered scenarios of discord, the chaos of a multiverse where whole realities were spontaneously spawned, and callously snuffed out with no rhyme or reason. Ahura’s mind was forced to confront a reality where even gods were the helpless playthings of an unknowable cast of even higher creators who were themselves the playthings of those above them.

  Ahura’s constructs multiplied, those held in reserve for the final push were forced to join the fray in desperation, shimmering into existence with precise synchronization. The newly formed reinforcements faltered before the oppressive weight of the Shadow Phoenix’s magic, but began to push her back like a tide of metal and magic.

  For the first time in eons, the machine god had found itself up against a force it could not fully quantify, an equation with no satisfying answer. The woman was a repeating remainder, and doubt seeped into the cracks of Ahura-Guru’s once unshakable psyche.

  The market square crumbled beneath them, reality itself folding and fracturing under the strain. And still, Raj held her ground, unyielding as the tide of artifice desperately sought to consume her.