Chapter 467 - Prologue - The Fallen Star

  A silent yawn filled a meticulously cleaned room, melding with the ever-ticking clock that sat atop the tallest shelf. Though its face was made of pearl and its digits were encrusted in gold, the amalgamation of magitech and craftsmanship remained the room’s most wallet-friendly fixture, for even made of precious metals and gemstones as it were, it could hardly compare to the glimmering, divine tapestry or the fluffy red carpet that sat atop the polished hardwood.

  Though it may have appeared unassuming, the carpet was one of the most complex devices situated within the castle’s walls. Engraved with a series of ridiculously intricate circuits, it leveraged the same technology as a terraformer for precise climate control, ensuring that every occupant was comfortable during the dog days of summer and the depths of winter in turn. Oftentimes, that meant dividing the room into zones and maniputing the temperature of each, but with only one client to serve, its operation should have made for an easy task. As, despite its efforts, the target was feeling much too warm. There was little that the carpet could do when the bed was working against it. The fuzzy rug knew that the mattress was doing its best, but its poor preset configuration was ill-suited to its newfound master. Unlike the carpet, a fresh invention popurized in just the previous year, the ancient bed’s schedule was unable to adapt on the fly. And with such poor technologies at work, the target’s waking was nothing if not inevitable.

  Lo and behold, the carpet’s prediction came true within a matter of minutes. The dy rose from her bed with a start, kicking away the bnkets and sitting all the way up even though it was closer to midnight than dawn.

  She was a tiny little thing, less than half the height of most of the other residents. Through the carpet’s twisted lens, it almost, almost made sense. With only two legs, as opposed to the usual four, it only stood to reason that she had only two parts of height to every four allotted. It was perfectly reasonable, or at least it would have been had all the other two-legged creatures not existed. They varied dramatically in size, with some shorter than her and others three times taller.

  Perhaps if the carpet was equipped with just another smidgeon, it would have been able to better differentiate her species, but with no such module installed, the best it could do was make note of her giant ears. It was blind to both her arctic blue hair and the blue slit eyes through which she saw the world. It did, however, find the rge, triangur scales that sat upon her cheeks. Like the others scattered all over her body, they were just a little bit cooler than the rest of her skin.

  Paying extra close attention to her sensory responses, the carpet dropped the temperature as she leapt off the bed, in hopes of restoring her slumber, but it was far too te. Wide awake, she paced across the room, threw open the sliding door, and stepped out onto the veranda, leaving the carpet to reflect on its ineptitude alone.

  Turning to the north, she stared wordlessly off into the mountains, her hands csped to her chest as she awaited a distant duel’s conclusion.

  She had no way of perceiving the battle. Locked within a secret domain cut off from the rest of the world, it would have been invisible even if she had her sister’s telescopic eyes. Still, Rubia watched. Together with Headhydra, who had appeared in her eponymous position, she watched and prayed in silence.

  The guards on patrol soon joined her in observing the horizon. The particurly sensitive among them turned their eyes north when they sensed Olethra’s divinity. But for most, it was only because they followed the pack.

  Both the king and the supposed princess were out on their balconies, looking off in the distance. It only made sense to examine the source of their stolen attention. Even one of the maids, who had been assigned to cleaning a bloodstained wall as punishment for ditching work for pleasure, joined them in a moment of careful inspection.

  They remained like that for roughly thirty seconds—just long enough for some of the soldiers to start chatting away—before the system interjected.

  NoticeCire Augustus has sin Olethra, Goddess of Weights and Measures.

  The system-wide experience multiplier has been raised from 35% to 40%.

  A cacophony of confused shouts emerged all around the castle as everyone but Virillius turned in Rubia’s direction. Even the ones who knew that she was just a substitute—a homunculus created to take the true princess’ pce—regarded her with their jaws agape.

  But Rubia ignored them and smiled. Straining her ears, she basked in the system’s voice as it sang the song she sought. She didn’t know the speaker, but her voice was a pleasure to observe. It was clear but stern, disinterested but meticulous, with due care given to all of the necessary details.

  Cire Augustus has not elected to inherit Olethra’s divine authority. System-wide bonuses for financial computation have decreased in effectiveness.

  At that, there was even more gawking and whispering. Ascensions left Cadrian soldiers long lived, but none were quite old enough to have experienced a god’s demise. Most didn’t even think that far. They were still hung up over the fact that “Cire” was clearly right in front of them, and that she clearly wasn’t in combat.

  It didn’t help that she was known for being completely useless. Not even the spymaster, who knew that Cire had gone into the Langgbjerns, had fathomed that she would kill a god; Rubia aside, Virillius was the only one with an inkling.

  And even he was shocked enough to drop his facade. The white moose roared like thunder as he clutched his sides and ughed.

  Individuals with the Accountant css are no longer capable of learning the appraisal skill. This skill has been revoked for individuals cking additional csses capable of providing this functionality.

  Accountants and Merchants are no longer capable of accessing the universal ledger by default. A minimum of two ascensions is now required to unlock this functionality.

  The consequences of Cire’s actions were immediately transmitted into the heads of everyone still awake. They knew that they were dire. Though accountants and the like were clearly the most affected, the consequences extended much further. Only the hermits who lived off in the mountains and those uncivilized enough to disregard the concept of trade would find the changes inconsequential.

  Everyone else would no doubt face the repercussions head-on.

  There was no way for the economy to escape unscathed.

  But knowing that only grew the soldiers’ excitement.

  The Accountant, Lawyer, and Merchant csses no longer gain bonus experience from remediation.

  Their supposedly useless princess had upped and killed a goddess.

  Their supposedly useless princess had rejected divine authority.

  Their supposedly useless princess had completely changed the world.

  It was a set of ridiculous cims.

  But they were impossible to deny with the system echoing the consequences directly into their minds.

  The Appraiser css’ requirement count has risen from 3 to 17.

  They had no choice but to accept it as truth.

  Cire had killed a goddess.

  Though they stared right at her, though they watched as she continued doing nothing, they began to suspect that they had simply failed in their perception.

  The Lawyer’s css’ requirement count has risen from 12 to 26.

  The Lawyer css’ evolution has been deyed from level 50 to level 75.

  Ever-skeptical elves aside, the first to truly believe were those aware of the homunculus’ fakery—the ones who knew that Virillius had given his real daughter the freedom to do as she pleased. The logic was all too sound. They knew that she had been impotent in combat during the earlier parts of her childhood, but a quick study of Virillius’ history revealed a simir circumstance. He too was thought to be a weakling when he first enlisted.

  It was hard not to think of him as anything but outright invincible, but everything seemed to suggest that House Augustus was simply made up of te bloomers.

  The Chartered Accountant css no longer grants bonus spirit and wisdom on acquisition.

  Next to rationalize the result were the magically attuned. Many among them had long suspected that there was something going on. Though the signature was at least somewhat consistent, the strength and quality of Cire’s magic fluctuated wildly, often swinging from one end of the scale to the other and back within the span of a day. As of te, it had grown even more distorted, its present state serving as the perfect example thereof. Her body was effectively inert, emitting next to nothing, but there was a concentrated, invisible clump of mana sitting on top of her head. It didn't quite radiate with overwhelming power, but it was at least a few hundred thousand times denser than the rest of her body.

  Sometimes, she would leave the glob elsewhere while she went about her day and control it remotely from the other side of the castle. No one was able to expin the phenomenon, but some had started to suspect that both the suppression and the remote control were linked to some sort of training. The more curious mages had tried to emute the behaviour, but it was to little avail. They could easily divest their magic from their flesh, but it would always be tinged with colour and revealed to the naked eye.

  The number of ability points gained for each Chartered Accountant level has fallen from 3 to 1.

  Third to be convinced was Antonina, the punished maid. She had thought for quite some time that Cire’s behaviour was abnormal. At first, she assumed that the change had stemmed from the ritual’s failure, but that was hardly a sufficient expnation. She often stared off into space post-incident, her mind seemingly absent from her body, perhaps even somewhere else entirely. More convincing was the discovery that the princess was far more athletic than she let on. Though she often ended her morning runs dead tired and dripping in sweat, so too did she sometimes scale a building with a zy leap when no one was looking. Antonina only knew because she was a cottontail variant with far better hearing than most. Her ears allowed her to track the princess, even when she couldn’t see her. Putting two and two together, she hypothesized that Cire was projecting her consciousness elsewhere and doing battle remotely.

  The Chartered Accountant css’ ability score coefficient has been lowered from 72 to 47.

  The Chartered Accountant skill, Brutal Bookkeeping, has been disabled. Chartered Accountants no longer deal bonus damage when equipped with books or tomes.

  The third partition began to believe when they saw their more perceptive peers thoroughly persuaded, some arrived at the conclusion after considering the god-king’s past, and some found themselves assured upon noting her ck of surprise.

  But rgest of all the groups was the one that turned to Virillius for confirmation. Few could recall a time when he bore anything besides his usual cold demeanour, and even fewer could recall a reaction so viscerally intense. His joy was all the evidence they needed to warp any remaining confusion into heartfelt excitement.

  The Chartered Accountant skill, Bance Sheet, has been disabled. Chartered Accountants no longer receive bonuses to their ability scores when facing stronger foes.

  He clearly believed the announcement.

  Knowing everything that they didn’t, he was absolutely certain that his daughter had sin a god.

  And they had no reason to doubt him.

  The men began to cheer. They threw their arms over each others’ shoulders and roared with enough volume to shake the castle awake.

  The Calcutor skill, Power of Three, has been disabled. Calcutors no longer deal triple damage on every third hit.

  Cadria’s future looked brighter than ever.

  All that the world had to offer was theirs for the taking.

  With Cire and Virillius at the army’s head, their conquest would stretch beyond the continent and across the sea. After all, who would dare to stand against them when even a goddess could not?

  No sooner had they accepted her strength than they started to speak their specutions. Suddenly, everyone began to recall the elves’ conjectures. In the past, they were dismissed as wild conspiracies—ridiculous delusions based no part in truth. But when no one else had thought Cire to be worth anything more than her ears, they alone had pced their confidence in her hidden strength.

  The number of ability points gained for each Criminal Prosecutor level has fallen from 7 to 3.

  Some voiced the ever-popur theory that she had always been hiding her power, while others put forth the cim that she had earned it in recent times. They began to shout and scream, to foam at the lips as they argued their sides. Some even rolled up their sleeves and brandished their spears, only for a more pressing concern to stop them in their tracks.

  “How exactly does she fight anyway?”

  The soldiers turned towards the speaker—the curious maid—with their eyes wide open. Their silence sted for only five seconds before they exploded into a ball of noise. The loudest group attested with utmost confidence that she ought to be just like Virillius, while their quieter peers spped exorbitant bets on the opposite cim’s veracity.

  The Criminal Prosecutor skill, Interrogation III, has been degraded. The damage bonus for attacking and speaking in tandem has been reduced from 9% per level to 3% per level.

  They began to question everything from the extent of her ascension to her approach to battle, their eyes flitting towards her substitute all the while. They hoped for her reactions to tip them off, but they had no such luck. Rubia might have cked her sister’s experience, but her expression had long returned to neutral. Never once reacting to their chatter, she zily spun around and headed indoors.

  Despite being well within earshot, Virillius offered no answers. Like his daughter, he returned to his room in silence, only furthering the crowd’s wild specution.

  The Criminal Prosecutor skill, Stop Resisting!!, has been disabled. Criminal Prosecutors no longer deal additional damage to targets affected by crowd control or otherwise not in motion.

  Unbeknownst to the Cadrians, simir discussions were taking pce among the divine. The gods and celestials that had watched the battle unfold argued over the specifics as they reviewed the footage from all different angles.

  There existed roughly twenty such participants in total. Olethra’s battle was of great interest to many—it wasn’t every day that a goddess entered combat with the intention of employing her full force—but few had access to Aurora’s divine realm. Her celestial servants aside, it was only her closest acquaintances and the rightfully due that she had allowed to observe.

  The guesswork was only made all the more interesting by the denial of data. Flitzegarde had put a block on Cire’s status as soon as she discovered the battle, preventing any queries from retrieving her numbers or details. The obscuration led many of the spectators astray, driving them to falsely assume that the caldriess had dumped her points into her agility stat mid-battle, but Vel furiously rejected the notion. The expnation she provided was inadequate, but her continued insistence led the other gods to believe that she had a few legs to stand on.

  The number of ability points gained for each Justice level has fallen from 27 to 12.

  Flux was the only observer refraining from open conjecture. It wasn’t like she was without any doubts—even she was wondering just how much of the result was pnned—but her mood was akin to Virillius’. She watched over Cire with pride. Just as she had from the very beginning.

  The sense of achievement was shared with Alfred, who had watched the event unfold from his prison. Having witnessed it through Sylvia’s eyes, his viewpoint wasn’t quite as omniscient as that of his peers. Still, he smiled as he considered his role in her forging.

  While most of the battle-crazed and otherwise unaffected sat with their moods at a high, their reactions were far outside the norm. Almost everyone else awake at the time of the announcement was in the midst of panic. Four of the seven realms—every dimension with the system baked into its core—reacted with abject horror. Many different Cire Augustuses, Cra Augusts, and Crence Augers were being harassed all around countless worlds, their acquaintances horrified by the false assumption that they had willingly destroyed their realms’ economies. Many such individuals lost their lives in the moments, days, and weeks that followed. And many more followed suit as those around them saw their finances destroyed.

  Fear and terror ran rampant.

  But perhaps nowhere was it quite as concentrated as it was to Cadria’s west.

  Fourteen leaders gathered around a massive table. Their positions differed greatly in name—they were princes, ministers, chiefs, chairmen, and leaders—but they were identical when it came to function. They spoke not for themselves but for their nations and people, and vested in them was the full authority of their respective governments.

  The room’s owner was one of the few explicitly denoted as a monarch. His kingdom was on the smaller side, spanning only about fifty kilometers from one end to the other. It was ndlocked on all sides and its fields were awfully infertile. The cold winters left Kollond’s nd barren, completely devoid of life. And yet, it was one of the wealthiest among the western alliance—the Obloydd Alliance, as they were self-described—the reason for which was visible all around them.

  Marble filled the room. Everything from the pilrs to the table to the many empty chairs were made of beautifully cut stone. The quarries scattered around the tiny nation brought it an absurd amount of wealth. It helped that they had the artisans to work the material; everything they exported was already in its final form, and their premium was a pretty penny.

  Kollondite stonework was the cream of the crop. It had been marketed as strictly exclusive and limited to the upper css in years past, but King Borniak had revised their policies after ascending the throne, some two hundred years prior.

  The bipedal bat-pig had started marketing quartz countertops towards the upper middle css and caused a boom that quintupled their annual revenue. Things had been looking up for Kollond ever since his coronation.

  As, hope could never quite spring eternal.

  The Obloydd’s nations had spent the past few decades slowly building up their forces and preparing for war. They had the perfect pn. If all went well, they could easily dismantle the Cadrian government.

  But the notice that had echoed through their minds threw the pn for a loop.

  They had always assumed that Virillius was their bane, and they had come up with a long list of countermeasures in order to see him bested.

  But no longer did all their eggs fit into the basket they wanted.

  His daughter had proven herself an even greater threat.

  The council was so shaken that none of its members dared to speak. They drowned in hopelessness and dread as they contempted the road ahead. They knew that gods could fall. Such events were commonly featured in scripture and the accompanying tales had spawned many a script and song. But few had ever considered that such a cataclysmic event would come to pass in their lifetimes, and even fewer had considered the possibility that the alliance’s long-time antagonist would prove to be responsible.

  Grim expressions could be seen all around the room. Even those who continued to trickle in wore the same dark look.

  There was no fixed time for the meeting’s commencement. King Borniak had certainly put out an emergency summons, but he doubted that it served much purpose. Standard protocol was to meet in Kollond in case of emergency, and the situation at hand was clearly just that.

  Sure, the announcement had come in the middle of the night, but anyone in a position of great importance would certainly have been awoken by their staff. Those that had yet to make it were no doubt gated by distance. The alliance had seventy members, and though most of the participating nations were on the smaller side, there was still much distance to be covered. It would take over a day for the st seat to be filled, even if its master spared no expense.

  The solemn mood sted for upwards of an hour, ending only as a greying man in a long, dark coat stepped through the door. Unlike the others, who had greeted their peers with somber nods, Burdakk’s minister of foreign affairs entered with a boisterous ugh.

  “Why all the long faces? You’re looking as pale as a gathering of ghosts.”

  He measured in at roughly 130 centimeters—tall for a dristle, but tiny compared to the council’s members. Mrawn, supreme leader of the Gobglobgob Republic, and Festhilde, the halflings’ representative, were the only two members that stood any shorter. Still, he made for quite the intimidating figure. His lean muscles could be seen through the gaps in his jet-bck trench coat, and the oversized, saw-like tentacles that grew from his face only furthered the impression of his strength.

  And in fact, he was likely the most powerful person in the room. He served not only as his nation’s point of contact, but also its grand general. It was his army that fought on the eastern front and kept the Cadrians at bay.

  Dristles were devoid of hair, but their skin served as a simir measure of their age. In birth, males were a dark, purplish blue while females sported a brownish orange. In either case, they slowly grew lighter with time. General Dzakka’s pale, ash-grey skin was a testament to his extended tenure. It proved that his age was well over a thousand, though no one really knew exactly how long the man had served his country.

  “General, I’m sorry, but this is no time for your antics,” said King Borniak. “We are in grave danger. I’m sure you’ve heard the news.”

  Dzakka spped his tentacles against his face and scoffed. “Opportunity always knocks where danger lurks, friend. Rex. We’ll be fine.”

  He pulled up a chair and fgged down one of the maids, who immediately fetched him a snack and a cup of tea. Sipping from the cup, he took a quick look around the room before shaking his head and leaning back into his seat. He didn’t speak again until he took a bite of his pastry—a savoury scone filled with pumpkin seed and spiced meat.

  “You’re all acting so glum I almost don’t want to share the good news.”

  “News? Good?” Mrawn leapt from his seat and smmed his hands onto the table. The goblin’s eyes were so bloodshot that they turned almost as red as his skin. “Hear it, lets.”

  King Borniak chuckled softly. He couldn’t bme the man, especially not when he’d felt the same surge of hope. It was hard not to believe in Dzakka. The old dristle had the sort of presence that made it difficult to believe he wouldn’t pull through.

  “It’s such great news that you probably wouldn’t believe it,” said the general. “But my daughter’s getting married. Can you believe it? She’s finally moving out of the house at eight hundred years old. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “General, please.” Borniak brought one of his leathery wings to his face and pinched the bridge of his rounded pink snout. “This really isn’t the time to be joking around.”

  “I was trying to lighten the mood,” said Dzakka. “And it wasn’t a joke. She’s really getting married.” Taking another sip from his cup, he propped an elbow against his armrest and rested his chin on his first. “But as it turns out, I’ve got some even better news. You know how the Cadrians have been antagonizing the Vel’khanese?”

  “Yes? What about it?” asked Borniak.

  “Well, a little birdie,” Dzakka turned his eyes across the room and rested them on Festhilde as he continued, “just happened to tell me that it isn’t going to be as one-sided as we thought. Apparently, the Vel’khanese are thriving up in the Langgbjerns.”

  “Us, ally, suggesting?” asked Mrawn.

  “Not exactly.” Dzakka leaned forward and smiled. “I’m saying we take advantage.”

  “Bah, that’s hardly a pn,” said Borniak. “And you already know that it’d never work. Sure, security around the border’ll be a bit looser than usual, but they’d have so many troops in Valencia that we’d never be able to pull anything off.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” The old dristle smirked. “Some of my men finally managed to secure a route into Cadria. And better yet, they’ve managed to figure out why they’re fighting in the first pce.”

  Borniak cocked a brow as all the council’s members leaned in and listened. They had heard a few outndish rumours form the merchants heading in and out of the nation, but none of their agents had ever reyed any messages successfully, let alone returned from over the border.

  “Turns out, it wasn’t just ‘cause the Cadrians thought we’d never notice,” he said. “You remember the one thing we’d sworn off as misinformation?”

  “General, I swear to Vinblunt and his golden chalice, if you’re goi—”

  “It’s true, Borniak. I know it sounds completely insane, but one of my men saw the spear for himself. The Vel’khanese completely obliterated one of their cities.” Murmurs spread around the room as Dzakka continued. “ And it wasn’t just any city,” he said, with a ugh. “It was Tornatus.” The tentacle monster chuckled. “They destroyed the City of Progress.”

  King Borniak gulped. He couldn’t believe it.

  “Possible, not,” said Mrawn. “Too strong, shield. Breakable, not.”

  “I thought so too,” said Dzakka. “It seems impossible, but one of Vel’khan’s fighters is strong enough to completely obliterate a ley line-powered shield, and the Cadrians still don’t know exactly which of them was responsible. I’m sure you can guess where I’m going with this already.”

  “Focused, attention, us, not,” said Mrawn.

  “Exactly. All their attention is going to be stuck on the Vel’khanese, and we’ll be able to do whatever the hell we want,” he said. “Hell, my men surviving a foray beyond the border is already proof enough.”

  “How are our chances looking, Festhilde?” Every pair of eyes in the room gathered on the halfling as King Borniak called her to attention.

  Festhilde was not just the tiniest of the council’s members, but a seer to the goddess of fate. It was she who predicted, with her goddess’ aid, that heroes would be born among them, and it was she who determined their identities and guided their ascensions along. And it was thanks to her that the Obloydd Alliance had grown powerful enough to challenge Cadria head-on.

  “I will inquire,” she said, quietly.

  She pced a hand on her chest and slowly took a breath. The tattoos that covered her body came to life as she did, glowing in gold as she called for divine assistance.

  It sted for maybe thirty seconds before it suddenly faded, leaving the seer gasping and wide-eyed as she pulled her hood over her head over her eyes. No one dared to rush her. The whole council waited with bated breath until she finally spoke again.

  “The goddess has encouraged us to wait,” she said. “In just a few months, the stars will align and provide us with a golden opportunity.”