Chapter 65 – Primal

Choosing the spots nearest the ritual circle, Kairon had the brood imps complete the ritual to create not one, but two new spawning grounds for hatching void imps.

Barely able to contain his excitement, he pressed a claw to the stone surface. Like the other spawning grounds, it was nearly identical.

He started the spawn timer, repeating that for the other as well. Moments later, tiny violet voids began to flicker in the middle of the new buildings. Come tomorrow, his first void imps would join the population.

“Master, make new worker?” asked Shiny. He’d walked up after the ritual, claws stained with dust and mud from the day’s work.

“Oh yes. Void imps, Shiny. Void imps! They should be invaluable to Sythara with her work, and if my hunch is right, for our city as well.”

“Hmm,” he replied. “We see! Not brood. But… May do.” Shiny turned, eyeing a passing warrior. “Better than wrath,” the imp added.

Grinning in amusement, the demon grasped his staff and headed for Sythara’s impatient form in the distance. It was time for one more major advancement today.

***

Kairon observed in rapt attention as the geometrical shapes on Sythara’s skin spun and pooled. For the first time, he was personally witnessing the shapes do something peculiar. They weren’t just staying tattooed to her skin. Rather, nearly half of them began peeling off and flowing onto the long, black tendrils of shadow erected around the demoness. Each of the winding appendages of darkness found a crevice in the panels around her, with one going so far as to even wrap around the looming wrath totem.

As they did, a sense very reminiscent of the void totem bled from the demoness. A slothful tug. To let the void consume all, to let the world fold around and do as it will, to let the end come unbidden.

With a flick of his claw, he let the golden, reassuring little puddle of source flow through him.

Even with that connection protecting him, he felt what came next. All the tiny little shapes on the tentacles flared to life, turning into dazzling lights. The area around went from purple to blue to white in mere moments.

Sythara’s pupils shimmered, taking on that same brilliant white hue, before they too became so blindingly bright that Kairon averted his gaze.

There was a sensation of pulling, like the world itself was being… unraveled. What had been whispers suddenly became shouts. Like the wrath totem had begun screaming at them both. It caused vibrations of rippling waves of energy that tore the world apart. From them, several purple voids opened, new scripture spilling apart and sliding onto the panels of the ritual basin. Its surface churned, thrumming a harmonic vibration from the pressure.

The demoness shrieked, mouth going wide and fingers clawing. However, her tentacles paid her pain no heed. They were in a frenzy, shadowy limb after limb finding a panel, and adjusting it. Script was moved, re-written, and altered until a new mess of symbols took form. For several brilliant, spectacular moments, it was like seeing the secrets of the world laid bare.

To Kairon’s disappointment, when he looked back, it was done. The rifts had closed, the tentacles had gone slack, and the scripture no more. Only the basin, with its newly fine-tuned symbols, remained.

So quick? Just like that?

He’d found himself thoroughly enjoying the experience of witnessing Sythara’s true prowess. It made him re-evaluate her future worth to the city.

For her part, Sythara was splayed out in exhaustion. Her tendrils curled around her, drawing tiny circles of dust on the void district’s violet surface.

The sight made him recall just how similar it was to last time. When she completed the universal brand, she had lost consciousness. Only this time, she hadn’t just worked herself dry. She’d paid a price.

Kairon bent down, parting her black tentacles. Beneath, her pale skin was exposed. More than half the shapes that once swam there were gone. He wasn’t sure what it meant, nor if they would come back, but one thing was certain. Sythara hadn’t lied. This had truly cost her.

“Good work, my councilor. Good work indeed. I will remember this, I promise,” he assured her. Although she was no longer awake, he thought he saw a flicker of acknowledgement on the resting demoness’s expression.

Carefully stepping over her, he approached the wrath totem, walking stick in the lead. Glancing to the center of the basin as he limped, he saw the evidence of Sythara’s work. Panels of swirling sigils, which before were a hardly discernible mess, had been spun and woven into something resembling communication with the plane.

It still looked like a mess. But it felt like anything but. An unmistakable aura of rage and violence wafted from the basin. Just looking at it sent sensations of violence and destruction screaming at his source barrier, metaphysical scratches and howls pressing around it.

He shook his head, genuinely impressed. There were hundreds of symbols, each slid precisely into the interlocking panels. Kairon was more certain than ever that Sythara’s words were true.

She did something utterly marvelous.

Stepping up to the bare crimson totem of wrath, he finally looked at the blinking notification that had popped up.

Kairon had mixed emotions. On the one hand, Sythara had come through. She had surpassed seventy percent comprehension. In fact, the options even felt more… solid. On the other hand, it was still just three options. No premade list of what each would give.

Perhaps the benefits of the increased comprehension would only show once he chose a path?

Sighing, he resigned himself to choosing as he did last time. By feeling each. Hopefully afterwards he’d have some real choices to make.

Kairon studied the paths available. Like the universal brand, there were three choices. Claw, shell, and horn.

Claw and shell are both pretty obvious in name alone.

Claw felt clearly of blood and fangs. Of sinking his claws into the flesh of his enemy. Instruments of war, and the strength of his warriors. In essence, offensive prowess.

Shell was the opposite. It felt of deflection. Of taking the blow of an enemy, and not dodging, but letting it slam into a protective layer of natural armor. Defense. Likely walls, gates, defensive buildings and towers.

And then there was horn. The most interesting. When he touched his mental claw against the letters, he sensed the calls of ancient trumpets. Armies mobilizing, tactical prowess, and a shiftiness. It was a complex taste for his palate. Undertones of provisions, battle preparations, and other mingled feelings battled for dominance. The city lord allowed them all to dance and intermingle on his metaphysical tongue.

It seems most likely horn is… some kind of support and utility. Maybe also troop mobility, forward bases, supply lines, siege equipment?

Kairon exhaled, taking a seat and studying the massive totem in front of him.

So, he simplified things. Shell was a trap in their current scenario. If his enemies forced an engagement with them in their city, no matter how high their walls or what defensive measures they had, they were finished. Their ashroot fields were firmly outside their protection, and would be fully exposed. Even Shiny’s escapades would be put to a halt. In the future, shell would be invaluable. For now, it was out of the question.

Which left horn and claw.

He’d have loved horn. Had he another month, Kairon would have picked it instantly. Unfortunately, he had days. And days wasn’t enough time to utilize whatever tactical abilities and supply shifts horn might offer.

Horn was just a wildcard.

Which left claw. The most obvious and uninspiring choice, but also the most certain to pay off. And right now, Kairon needed that certainty. He needed any weapon that could improve their chances of success. The fight to come would be outside their walls, not within.

Mind made up, he chose claw.

Last time, that had been it. The brand had immediately begun to be carved into stone. This time, however, it was not. The panels in the basin trembled, glowed, and a new notification came to life.

Kairon let out a shrill whistle. “Sythara, you really have outdone yourself,” he breathed. When he’d only seen the same three abstract paths, he feared it was all for waste. But now…

Five options?!

The clerk was practically salivating. Not just at the number of choices, but the information they came paired with. The demoness’s boost to comprehension seemed marginal, but surpassing the next threshold came with so many juicy details.

This stingy demonic system’s never given me this much detail on—well—anything.

He cracked his neck, taking stock.

Okay. I need to think of this through the lens of surviving the next several days. Which option gives my city the maximum advantage to come out ahead, paired with our current battle strategy?

Kairon decided to go through each in order. First, the three new buildings.

Healing pool. Milk the most vitality out of my own force. The down side—it requires survivors. The last battle with the humans left none. Imps either died, or came back with superficial wounds—Vorathrex not included. However, we could change our tactics to better integrate such a service. And with over five times as many troops, more are likely to make it back wounded.

Ichor well. Between the name and the flavor text, it seems like a destructive substance. Perhaps one that could be used to coat weapons or other deadly concoctions. Normally. But… If it works how I think, it could solve a different issue. Right now, we have maybe sixty to seventy weapons, nearly half of which are burnt and sharpened staves from the broken spear shafts. I’m projecting around a hundred and fifty warriors by the time Operation Shakeout is in full swing. Which means more than half of my forces are fighting with no more than fang and claw. And many of our opponents are armored. If this ichor has an acidic effect and could be applied to my warriors’ claws and bone armor… This could be a force multiplier.

Scarwright. The final new building, and the most interesting option of all. It tugged immediately at Kairon’s love for forbidden and unknown knowledge and practices. In essence, scarwright sounds like a demonic tattoo parlor. For a price, I could inscribe my warriors with some kind of power granting tattoo. Maybe even the demons and other imps too?

The issue is time.

The ichor well could likely be used en masse as needed, and the healing pool on demand immediately. But the scarwright would likely take time. Time he didn’t have.

Kairon moved to option four.

Culling Grounds. Interestingly enough, is listed as a building alteration. Clearly for the training grounds. I’m uncertain if it changes the existing grounds, nor if it allows me to make both the original and the new one in the future. Either way, the potential is quite fascinating. If I had to guess, it sounds like a rather… controversial training regimen. One Vorathrex would love. For example, ten imps go in, one comes out. But the one would be much stronger. Maybe gaining the power of the others?

Regardless, Kairon already knew he wouldn’t choose this.

The risk of losing the normal training grounds, which has already shown to be so vital to our forces, is too great. Maybe Sythara would know more. But until I’m certain about the specifics of a building alteration, I’m not choosing this.

That left the final option.

And a building add-on. Attractive in that it doesn’t take up a new building slot. The most mundane option. A stone for my imps to sharpen their teeth and claws. But, like the ichor well, a way to multiply the power of our un-weaponized force.

“Questions, questions, questions!” he spat aloud. With a huff rivaling his unconscious demoness, he sat back on the hard stone, letting his walking stick clatter beside him.

Narrowing this down, between the ichor well and the gnawing stone, I’d choose the ichor well. The gnawing stone really only helps my un-weaponized force, while the well could presumably be used on both weapon and claw. Plus, my gut tells me that the demonic substance could be an invaluable counter to the paladins.

But the healing pool…

That option resonated with Kairon’s very core. Waste. It prevented waste and maximized efficiency.

He put his head in his claws, thinking furiously. The city lord went over his battle plan, and which option might fit the best into it. Then, a devious grin filled his lips. “That can’t be how the plane intended this to be used. Which makes me want to try it even more,” he mused.

If it wasn’t for Operation Shakeout, I think I’d choose the healing pool. If we had enough time, the scarwright. But… Only one option leaves me with an exponential tactical multiplier.

And… Wouldn’t what lies within the well be considered a controlled substance? A further strengthening of what I have planned?

There was one final point. One little tidbit that he couldn’t know. Not from this description. But it was icing on the cake.

If the ichor reacts violently enough… Could that even reshape our planning for Operation Shakeout?

That thought alone sealed the deal.

With a mental nudge, he chose the ichor well.

Kairon quickly glanced at his stockpile.

Nearly two-hundred gold and timber, but not nearly enough stone. Tomorrow, then.

He’d shift the work schedule to get the well as early in the day as possible. It might be their last full day before Operation Shakeout, after all.