Chapter 639 - 626: Preparations for their death

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Dominion of Oz]

[Winkie Country]

A tin castle was certainly a sight.

It stood alone in the middle of the empty land, so out of place against the vast, barren plains that it was difficult to tell whether it had once been impressive or had always been as strange as it looked now. The decrepit tin palace rose from the landscape in a crooked way, its once-shining metal walls dulled by years of exposure. Rust had spread across the sheets in patches, leaving behind dark orange and brown stains that ran down the walls like streaks. Much of the palace had fallen apart entirely. Several of its towers leaned precariously to one side, their supports apparently having given up long ago. Portions of the roofs had collapsed inward, leaving openings through which the empty sky could be seen. Large holes had been torn through the walls, exposing dark rooms and broken corridors beyond them.

Bent sheets of tin hung from the edges, some barely held in place. A few shifted whenever the wind passed through, producing metallic creaks that carried across the otherwise silent land.

The great entrance stood open.

Its doors had been twisted and half torn away from their hinges, leaving the passage into the palace exposed. There was no guard, no sign of anyone maintaining the place, and no indication that the structure had been inhabited in years.

Inside, the halls were dark and empty.

Scattered pieces of metal covered the floors, some belonging to the walls or ceiling while others were impossible to identify. Rusted fragments lay among the debris, and sections of the palace’s interior had collapsed badly enough to block entire passages. What little light entered through the broken walls and ceiling only made the emptiness more apparent.

Goiim stood before the entrance with her usual blank expression, studying the palace without any obvious reaction.

Elena, however, stared at it with open disbelief.

"What kind of dumbass would make a palace all out of tin?" Besides Goiim, Elena watched the decrepit tin palace with an incredulous look, her pale blue eyes moving from the crooked towers to the collapsed roof and then back toward the entrance. "Seriously, what kind of ruler looks at an entire building made from metal that can rust, bend, and fall apart and thinks, ’Yes, that’s exactly what I want for my palace’? This is dumb."

"Those natives here were renowned tinsmiths, from what I’ve heard." Goiim answered, her voice remaining the same as she looked over the structure. "This palace in particular was built for their would-be ruler. It was presumably meant to represent their skill and craftsmanship, rather than simply serve as a practical building."

"But tin?" Elena scoffed. "What a waste of time. This shit just gets rusted and old, and it doesn’t even look good."

The Legatus narrowed her eyes at the palace, clearly unconvinced that there had ever been anything impressive about it.

"It looks like one strong storm away from collapsing completely. What were they even thinking when they built this thing?"

She looked toward Goiim.

"What are we even doing here?"

"This would be the Deseruit Beast Progenitor’s den." Goiim revealed.

Her eyes remained fixed upon the palace.

"It is doing a good job concealing its presence, but I can detect it somewhat."

Elena’s expression changed.

"Oi, hold on."

She blinked once.

Then her light blue eyes widened somewhat as she looked toward the dark entrance again, this time with considerably more caution.

"I get you wanna use this thing, but Progenitors on average are as strong as the Old Gods. You wanna just go in there like some dumbass?"

There was a clear edge of disbelief in her voice.

Whatever Elena thought of the palace itself, she understood what Goiim had just said. A Deseruit Beast Progenitor was not something to casually walk into the den of.

"If you are fearful, you need not come with." Goiim stated without a change in expression.

The words were simple.

Yet somehow they still managed to sound mocking despite the complete lack of emotion on her face.

Elena’s eye twitched, her teeth clenched as she turned toward Goiim.

"Listen, you blank-faced bastard, I ain’t scared of anything. Least of all some overgrown animal!"

Goiim merely made a noise of acknowledgment.

"Mm."

The complete lack of reaction seemed to make Elena’s irritation worse rather than better.

"You’re awfully easy to rile up." Goiim mused with a slight tilt of her head.

There was observation in the remark, but also amusement that was difficult to miss.

"You seek to be a Mortifer, correct?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Elena spat out.

"I’m sure you know the process by which we Mortifers are appointed." Goiim continued.

Her attention returned toward the palace, though she continued speaking to Elena.

"Sure." Elena confirmed. "Once you reach a sufficient enough rank in the Retorta Guild, by permission of the Ereš you get to challenge existing Mortifers. What about it?"

"As a Legatus, you need sufficient achievements or commendation." Goiim continued.

She finally looked back at Elena.

"If you make yourself useful here, I shall give you what you need."

Elena’s expression changed almost immediately.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" she questioned.

Her tone was still guarded, but the interest was obvious.

"By annihilating everything in our path," Goiim challenged. "Though you fail if I have to lift a finger."

Elena stared at her.

For a moment, the challenge seemed to sink in.

Her earlier irritation gave way to consideration.

("What? Something this simple for a shot at the Mortifer title? Something as valuable as that?")

Her brows gradually furrowed.

The offer was almost suspiciously straightforward.

A Mortifer title was not something handed out casually. It carried considerable weight within the Retorta Guild’s home, but its influence extended far beyond the Guild itself. Mortifers were feared, respected, and treated differently from ordinary members of the Guild.

And that was only the beginning.

Fear and respect were a given.

Political power could come with it as well.

Personal armies, lands and authority.

Resources that would normally take years of achievement, influence, or inheritance to obtain could become accessible to someone who carried the Mortifer title.

Elena’s eyes remained on Goiim.

("If I had that kind of power...")

The thought lingered.

She imagined what it would mean to possess that sort of authority, to have people recognize her position without question, to no longer have to look upward at the Mortifers she had spent so much time beneath.

Her expression slowly changed, the suspicion did not disappear completely.

Instead, a grin began to form.

"Fine, then." Elena said.

She turned her attention toward the ruined palace once more, her earlier hesitation replaced by a renewed sense of purpose.

"I accept." Her grin widened slightly. "You better keep your word."

Elena did not wait for Goiim to say anything else.

She turned toward the palace and began walking.

Whatever uncertainty she had felt before had been buried beneath the promise Goiim had made. The position of Mortifer would make people who once looked down on her think twice before speaking.

If this was the price, then she would pay it.

Goiim followed several paces behind.

She did not hurry to catch up, nor did she seem particularly concerned by Elena’s confidence.

Elena reached the enormous doors.

They were barely recognizable as doors anymore. The old tin sheets had been twisted inward, several sections hanging from broken hinges while others had collapsed across the entrance. Rust covered almost every remaining surface.

Elena stopped, she lifted one hand and the space in front of her trembled.

Then the ruined doors disappeared.

They simply vanished in a sudden burst with a distorted noise, fragments of the doorway blinking out of existence as though reality had decided they were no longer supposed to be there. A brief pressure rolled outward through the entrance.

Elena lowered her hand.

"Much better."

Goiim stepped past the place where the doors had been.

Inside, the palace was almost completely dark.

The gray light from outside reached only a short distance into the entrance hall before being swallowed by the interior. The walls were made of the same dull metal as the exterior, but years of decay had left them stained and discolored. Some sections had buckled inward. Others were split open, exposing narrow passages into rooms that were difficult to see.

Their footsteps echoed but then came the growls.

One, then another and then several more.

The sounds came from different directions.

Something growled from somewhere above them.

Another answered from deep within the palace.

Then a third came from behind a collapsed wall, the noise slowly multiplied until the entire structure seemed to be filled with restless snarls.

Elena stopped walking.

Goiim’s pale eyes moved toward the darkness.

"A Progenitor would naturally attract them," she said quietly. "Deseruit Beasts gather around stronger sources. The stronger the source, the more likely others are to remain nearby."

Elena looked into the darkness ahead.

"So this place is basically a nest."

"Something close to it."

A heavy scraping sound came from above, neither woman moved. The sound came again as metal creaked.

The ceiling erupted.

A large winged wolf-like Deseruit Beast dropped from the darkness with its jaws already open.

Its body was enormous, its forelegs stretched toward Elena as it fell. Sharp teeth filled its open maw, and a pair of broad wings snapped outward behind it, catching enough air to alter its descent.

Elena did not even look up, she simply continued walking. The beast was almost upon her when her Null Schema activated.

Two large iron stakes appeared, they emerged from opposite angles with brutal speed. The first punched through the beast’s side and the second drove through its chest. The impact stopped it in midair.

Its jaws remained open as its wings jerked once.

Blood sprayed across the nearby metal floor as the stakes carried it downward and slammed it into the ground. Its claws scraped uselessly against the tin before its body went slack.

Elena stepped around it without slowing.

Goiim glanced down at the corpse as a another growl answered from somewhere deeper inside.

The two moved farther into the palace and three shapes suddenly emerged from the darkness.

They did not look alike.

One was broad, moving on four thick limbs with a body covered in hard plates. Another was tall and narrow, with elongated forelimbs and a long neck that bent as it charged. The third was almost insect-like, its multiple limbs striking the floor in rapid succession as it rushed toward them.

All three attacked at once.

Elena finally looked up.

"Oh, piss off."

The first beast disappeared and the second vanished immediately afterward as its charge simply ceased.

The third continued.

A flat glass disc appeared directly in its path, the beast had no time to stop.

Its head struck the disc, for a fraction of a second, the beast seemed suspended against the transparent surface.

Then the disc cut through it.

The beast split violently along the center of its body, the two halves sliding apart as momentum carried them past the disc. Blood and dark fluid splattered across the floor and nearby walls before both sections collapsed heavily.

Elena stepped over the remains and Goiim followed.