Chapter 299: Grimm Echoes In The Midst Of Turmoil

It’s the twenty-second day of the sixth month of the year 1843 by the Imperial Calendar, until recently known as the ‘Third Era’ or the ‘Age of the Demon Tyrant’. But, the Fievegal’s rise coincides with a near-evaporation of the conflict with the demon-kin to the west, and much larger events have occupied the various nations of the continent as of late.

Naturally, these things are of little consequence to Barraden, a gatonine on the nightshift working a silver mine for the Kingdom of Ahmpur. Though obviously not as strong as boruans, a gatonine’s keen night vision coupled with a few inexpensive magic lanterns are enough to keep mining throughout the night, meaning the mine’s progress can continue.

His pickaxe continues to slam at stone to break apart the solid rock of the old, but still lively mine yielding a staple precious metal for their kingdom.

“Did you hear what’s going on in Eastern Margrave’s territory?” asks Homskur, another gatonine.

“You mean that something about a fire? Yeah. You got family there?” answers Falx, a shenwulf whose specialty is hearing echoes in the rock to make sure they don’t tunnel into any subterranean bodies of water, collapsing voids, or magma.

“I have an uncle, his wife, and three cousins in Urflasdat,” replies Homskur. “You?”

“Nah. We’re all bumpkins.” The two laugh together, and Barraden shakes his head as he keeps working.

Three… Two… O-...

“You two! If you have time to chatter like a couple of wiuben hens, then you have time to break another ten yards! Get back to work!”

“Y-Yes sir!” exclaim both of the slacking miners as they immediately spring back into work.

The one to yell almost as if on cue is the mine supervisor, Barphasley, one of the only boruans on night shift. He has to slouch in the current part of the tunnel because the section was lined with much harder rock where they were digging along a silver vein, and the floor is directly above a spring. Even if the spring is small, it would flood down the tunnel towards the direction of the current silver vein.

And, since they’re the ones that made the progress through this section, the shorter gatonines and shenwulves didn’t bother digging out the ceiling. The day shift boruans will clear it away much faster, or they’ll put up with it the way Barphasley does. Male boruans aren’t much taller than the shenwulves anyways.

While they’re hacking away at the rock next to Barraden, Homskur calls out, “What do you think, Chief? How bad is the fire near Urflasdat?”

“Is there silver towards Urflasdat?” asks the foreman bluntly over the noise. “No? Then I don’t know, and I don’t care. I’m sure if the Crown decides it’s necessary, they’ll petition the aid of the Emp-...”

Just as he’s saying this, the ground jumps, and all four of the men present stumble and hit the ground as their pickaxes clatter. Screams and yells come from all over the mine’s many branching tunnels, while a deep, quaking rumbling seems to shake the whole mountain for several excruciatingly long seconds.

Everyone is terrified, since many of them have some experience or have heard about mine collapses.

This was not a collapse.

Barphasley glances around, his eyes as wide as saucers. Thanks to the lanterns, he can see well enough in the tunnels, but it’s not as easy for him as it is for the gatonines and even the shenwulves.

“Chief?” asks Barraden. “What… what was that?”

“Some kind of impact?” murmurs Falx.

“It’d have to have been something like an explosion spell or something…” murmurs Barraden. “That, or a summoned meteor…”

They all look to Barphasley, and the boruan man blinks a few times. He shakes his head clear, since the echoing tremors are still ongoing, even if the shaking has subsided. “Everyone out! Everyone clear out! Role call at the mine entrance! Pass it on!”

“Everyone out!” shout voices in return. This echoes deeper and deeper through the old mine, which goes deep into the ground.

Barphasley didn’t hesitate at all to make the call. Their jobs are to mine silver, and they’re generally paid an acceptable wage per wagon full of rock, but they get paid a bonus by weight for the silver ore they extract, which is why there’s sometimes an incentive to make depth over height.

But, the foreman doesn’t want to be inside if there’s a mine collapse, and being the honorable man that he is, he’s making sure to evacuate everyone first and asking the questions later.

Many of the lanterns were shaken off of the walls, with the oil lanterns used as a cheap alternative for the tunnel stretches where mining is largely complete, and magic lamps used at dig sites because of their superior output.

As the miners gather out in front of the mine’s entrance and a head count is performed, Barraden looks to the east. There is a strange glow on the horizon, like the sun is about to rise, but it’s far too early for that.

All of these events have taken place on the day a woman named Zuzia threw a titan into the sky while an out of control magic fire consumed the very land itself.

And, before this brand new day is out, something even worse will set in motion events that Barraden prays every day would never come.

***

Sundenelle massages her temples in mental agony while ‘Sir Larven’ and Sir Ecklevon stand across from her at her desk. She received two separate headaches at the same time in the form of mere sheets of paper. Naturally, it is the contents of the information on each sheet of paper that are causing her to envy the Fievegal’s blasé attitude towards state affairs, their small size, and their utterly overwhelming technology that far surpass the needs of their territory for now.

She even envies the stories of Daniel’s time on Zenkon before he conquered the Citadel; a simple laborer of sorts that was knowledgeable enough about theory, even with something that doesn’t compare directly to what he did on Earth, that he was able to fumble his way through teaching himself how to troubleshoot and repair many magical devices. Most people are terrified to touch them because they’re so expensive, and magic artisans and artificers are rare due to their value, so it can take time to have one even come to town, only for their prices to be just as prohibitively expensive.

The document that she just started reading before Sir Larven brought a letter from Daniel disguised through a false name is a request for emergency support from Ahmpur.

Themihk is nearby at his own desk that is perpendicular to Sundenelle’s and opposite Duke Walliskah’s in the main office of the Imperial Palace. He speaks up politely, “Is there a problem, your Grace?”

As promised, Themihk has been well-behaved as Sundenelle’s Prince Regent. He visits his family under strict guard managed by Duke Walliskah, but they are being well taken care of in a secure villa, considering his elder brother and mother are prisoners of the Crown. She wouldn’t trust him with the letter Larven brought, because it would be relatively easy to use him as a replacement heir to the Empire if Sundenelle is ousted. And, even if he’s not, he could technically still inherit the family name of her uncle who tried to help defy the Emperor’s last will. He could and would be a powerful ally to Sundenelle’s enemies if she’s not careful, but he has too much knowledge and talent for statecraft to simply execute him or let him rot away with his moronic brother and villainess mother.

“The Kingdom of Ahmpur just requested emergency aid. Apparently, a silver mine collapsed around five days ago, and a team of fifty miners have been trapped inside.”

“Th-That many?” asks Themihk.

“It must be the western mine, then. It’s the oldest mine in Ahmpur and still hasn’t run dry,” explains Walliskah.

“And this?” asks Sundenelle as she holds up Neith’s letter. “I know better than to ask if it is a jest, but… Is everything here actually… Is it confirmed?”

Disguised as Sir Larven once more, the grey dragon replies, “Yes, my Liege. Regrettably so.”

Sir Ecklevon is respectfully silent, as are Themihk and Walliskah while they allow Sundenelle to groan in frustration, since each problem is important, but if she’s not allowed to know who has perished, according to the letter at present, for fear of her reaction, she needs to find out why it’s so important. She knows Yaulander is a growing problem for the Fievegal, and by extension, a direct danger to the Empire if he makes the Fievegal her enemies. But, Ahmpur is home to Urflasdat, which is the primary trade hub of the eastern half of the continent. The Empire has enough territory to keep trade entirely insular and still function, but in order to support the alliance that has held the line for decades, she needs to ensure the Empire is not left behind as a trade partner.

True, the King of Ahmpur’s letter isn’t accusatory or anything of the sort. It’s desperate, which is likely why it took five days to reach her. Or rather, two days once they realized the mine was beyond their control, and all of the miners were trapped inside during turnover in the morning.

“Duke Walliskah, in your experience, what are the odds that fifty miners trapped inside are still alive after five days?”

“Well,...” starts the Duke as he thinks. It’s a grim question, because it’s a grim answer that she already has some idea of.

“If the collapse is from an explosion, there’s almost no chance. But… if they managed to initially survive… there’s usually at least one or two mages on a team with wind magic, specifically. Though, I suppose ‘mage’ might be a bit generous. Since it’s still an active mine with no signs of drying up, as far as anyone knows, it’s possible they have emergency air devices. And, with the Stalvaltan’s compact endless water spouts…”

Sundenelle sighs. Everything he’s piling up means there’s a chance that the miners are still alive.

“Sir… Larven, do you think the Fievegal can rescue trapped miners that are buried too badly for an older nation to handle?”

“It has not been an issue the Fievegal has addressed to date, your Grace. But, I can say with confidence that every single member of the Fievegal has found themselves routinely surprised by the capabilities of the Fievegal via our Emperor.”

“Your Grace,...” starts Themihk cautiously. “I have no objections to your intent to unite the Empire and the Fievegal by your very own hand. I genuinely think it would be a very good match, all things considered. But…”

“But?” asks Sundenelle when the Prince Regent trails off for a moment.

“Apologies, your Grace. But, I fear calling upon the Fievegal’s aid once more may further indebt the Empire to the Fievegal before the union is made… before a contract is in place.”

“His Highness has a point, your Grace,” adds Walliskah. “The balance of power is already shifting away from us. No disrespect intended, Sir Larven.”

Larven chuckles, since he’s amused that they’d talk about it right in front of him, knowing that he’s on loan as protection for the Fievegal Emperor’s betrothed.

Sundenelle takes a breath and exhales. “I know that’s what we all assume, because that’s how we look at these things. But… I know things about the Fievegal, and the future of the Fievegal. These things we concern ourselves after hundreds of years of cultivating bloodlines and reputations… All of it will be faded to history before my grandchildren ascend to the throne. Possibly before they’re even born.” She brings her gaze up from her hands on her desk, looking at each of them in turn. “The Fievegal… No, Daniel doesn’t care about the ever shifting balance of power with his allies, as long as his family is safe, and to ensure that, he strengthens his friends.” She scoffs, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. Her right hand finds its way over her heart. She adds with a soft tenderness in her voice, “And,... That is why it is no longer purely a political decision that I am remaining betrothed to Daniel… I… I have started to genuinely care for him… I think I might… even know what Father and Mother shared…” She smirks bitterly and looks at Larven, adding, “Even if I do have to actually share, unlike Mother.”

Larven says nothing, since he is in the presence of Themihk. Walliskah knows the truth, but in his disguise, Larven is a mere knight, so he doesn’t have the status to chat freely with the Empress. If she decides to loop in Themihk, then it’s a different matter, but until then, he plays the role of a good knight.

“You’re… serious, aren’t you?” asks Themihk softly, his own expression gentle, but surprised.

Sundenelle smiles and touches her snow-white hair. “For the first time in my life, someone told me not the right things to keep company with me, but the things I needed to hear. Not ‘Empress Sundenelle kos Lindenmorg, first of her name and ruler of the Grand Zenkon Empire’; Sundenelle the girl, always standing on a needle almost as high as the chandeliers in the center of the room and awaiting the day I should fall…” She plays idly with her white hair, which was revealed when Daniel used Nemaisol to negate magic at the Peace Conference when someone tried to assassinate one of the Fievegal’s Empresses or Princess Jieka, the Crown Princess.

“For once… I was scooped off my needle like a Princess and allowed to rest my feet. For once… I wasn’t facing the whole world alone…” She flicks the lock of hair over her shoulder and resumes her normal composure. “And, regardless of my jests, having the other Empresses is, admittedly, a relieving notion, as they are already starting to divide into various sects of administration of the Fievegal, meaning the workload is relieved, while the authority remains intact.”

“One might argue… the Fievegal is a mess waiting to explode,” warns Walliskah. He glances at Larven, but the dragon shows no signs of offense. He knows they’re just talking from the perspective of an Empire on the horizon of becoming a vassal, in a sense.

“The Empire is not so sturdy these days, anyways,” replies Sundenelle. The four men in the room with her are the only four people she can be completely free to speak her mind with in the Empire itself, since they know at least the bare bones of her struggles as Empress.

Having had a moment to clear her head, though, Sundenelle says, “Sir Larven, I think I will visit the King of Ahmpur myself to assess the mine and act accordingly. If the Fievegal can bring forth another miracle, I would be most grateful.”

“I will request their aid at once, your Imperial Majesty.”

“Do you really need to go there yourself?” asks Themihk. “It is just a mine collapse. Even if we send our own laborers to help dig and remove rock… I fear it may be too late.”

“I am well-acquainted with death and injury, Themihk. But, I thank you for your concern. And, my most trusted Sirs Ecklevon and Sir Larven will be escorting me, yes?”

“Of course, my Liege,” “Of course, your Grace,” reply both knights with a crisp bow of their heads.

“Good. Then, I shall go get prepared. Prince Themihk, I am leaving the Palace to you for the time being. Duke Walliskah, the Noble Counsel. Act as I would or not at all.”

“Yes, your Imperial Majesty,” reply her two direct vassals loyally.

She adds as she walks around her desk, “Since the western mine is near the border where the Serpent’s gullet passes through to Twilight, there should be no cause for alarm for me to visit my own territory prior to crossing the border, hmm?”

She adds dryly, “Knowing the Fievegal, it’ll be faster to dig from our side of the mountain anyways…”

The ‘Serpent’s Gullet’ is a valley that forms the ‘back way’ to where Fort Twilight used to be. Due to void artillery strike, it is essentially unusable for getting around the mountains in purely-Imperial territory with a major military formation, but it is still Imperial territory, and there are smaller routes that the Fievegal’s trucks can pass through.

And, if Daniel’s ‘railroad’ becomes a tangible future, it may be the perfect route to connect the Fievegal to the Empire and race into the future even faster.

Today, though, Sundenelle hopes she can deal with her two major headaches as quickly as possible.

***

A cough in the darkness is one of many of its kind. There are a handful of magic lanterns still glowing among the men that have been stranded deep inside of a mine.

It happened during turnover. After the two deep impacts from far away that caused unnerving tremors in the mountain, the mine was closed for several days while inspectors came in to determine the safety and stability of the mine. After that, the miners were allowed to resume normal operations, and things had continued that way for almost two weeks.

But, during one particular day, as the bustling of various turnover tasks were taking place, it’s believed that fifty-three of the one hundred and twenty five total miners working the Western Ahmpur mine were inside the tunnels at various locations when every miner’s nightmare came to pass.

Crack.

That was the first noise anyone heard that caused all of the bustling to come to a stop.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

It was such a deep, resounding sound, that one’s own skull cracking would sound less ominous to a person.

And before anyone could make sense of it, order an evacuation, or even cast magic for those who could, too swiftly for anyone to react to, the world came falling down.

Now, thirty seven men have successfully gathered together in the center tunnel of the mine, where all of the branches connected to. They’re doing their best to conserve their energy, which in turn will conserve their water and food, and avoid panic. They’re deep inside the large mine, though, so it’s possible there’s no way they’ll be rescued, and everyone knows it.

Barraden sits, cuddled in his spot with his legs close to his chest, trying to keep warm. Some of the men are cuddling together for the same reason, while others are lying on the ground, unconscious or dead.

Thirty seven men made it to the central tunnel several days ago. Barraden only knows it has been ‘several’ days because of how exhausted he has been and the number of times he has slept. But, he wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be a month with how painfully terrifying being trapped is.

No one has checked on those who haven’t moved in a while. Fear keeps them wishing to find out the fate of their comrades who might just be sleeping.

Because they might be dead; a fate coming for them all.

It’s why Barraden has done his best to keep himself awake. If he falls asleep, he might not wake up ever again. He has his own family waiting for him just in town, and he would trade a great deal of his own life to see them again now.

A groan from his left draws Barraden’s attention. Barphasley is lying on the ground with bandages around his left knee. It’s sickening to look at or think about, because that’s all that’s left.

The boruan man got caught in the collapse in the early seconds. He successfully ripped Falx and one of the younger dayshift miners back and threw them clear, only to get his own leg pinned under the rubble.

Unable to find anyone capable of healing magic, the men were unable to dig him free, and they made the choice that allowed them to stop the bleeding. They have pickaxes and clothes for makeshift bandages, which had to be enough.

A good man lost his leg trying to save two more, while many more men may have been buried deep in the rock.

Realizing it has been a while for the unconscious foreman, Barraden crawls over and offers him some water, carefully feeding it to him so he doesn’t choke. It’s absolute hell, and they’re all slowly fading away.

No man digs in the rock without understanding how dangerous a cave-in can be. The entire mountain is above them, after all.

But, something triggered the cave-in. Even though it was weeks ago now, Barraden feels like the two deep shocks that came from the direction of Urflasdat and that sinister glow were the cause. They caused the whole mountain to tremble, and it’s obvious that a fault in the stone finally gave way.

“Heh… We’re… We’re never getting out of here, are we?” asks Shennet, a day-shift human barely old enough to have started mining. He starts crying as he sticks his face in his hands, coughing a few times from the dreadful air quality.

They know better than to use oil lanterns because of the smoke and the possibility of explosions, but either way, the air is quickly dampening and becoming stifling.

“Stay calm,” replies Homskur as he leans against the wall. Those who had hopes of digging themselves out have since exhausted themselves and given up. There’s almost no hope, but if Ahmpur learns about the mine collapse in time, they might be able to muster mages and enough equipment to break through the actual collapse barrier and evacuate the miners, even if it’s one by one.

“We… could try praying…” offers Barraden.

“What?” asks Homskur.

Barraden is quiet for a moment, but he says softly, “My… wife… has been convinced that the fire… was a curse started by some evil demon. And,... the flash that filled the sky and depressed mana… was God saving this world from the calamity.”

Everyone around him is quiet for a moment, since there’s no real argument to be made against it at this point. Gatonines aren’t much different from humans in that there are several accepted religions depending on where they were born, and Shenwulves generally worship the moons as spirits, rather than gods. But, much of Stoerykame has reached a sort of blend under the influence of the Empire. Though the official religion of the Empire and most of the allied territories is Herithania, a monotheistic religion that specifically minimizes any concept like ‘favored species’ or ‘God’s own image’, so it’s welcoming of all races and species on Stoerykame… in theory.

Regardless, it’s a well-known ‘new religion’, even for those that practice older religions from their ancestors or their region where they were born and raised.

“Heavenly Herith… Please guide noble hands and wise minds to this place…” starts a voice in the dim light of one of the three surviving magic lanterns. “Please bless us and watch over us…”

Others add in their own prayer requests for Herith, and before he knows it, Barraden has his own hands clasped together in front of him.

If they hammer away at the rock, they will exhaust themselves and breathe even heavier. If they do nothing at all, they will inevitably start to panic. If they pace in anxiousness or try to do other activities, they will waste energy and exhaust themselves, and with their limited food, those who have become incapacitated in any capacity will start to look more and more appetising to those of weaker will.

But, prayer is centered around hope. Hope that they’ll last another moment. Hope that they’ll see their families again. Hope that they are not forgotten by those outside.

Hope is all they have now.

And, Barraden will take hope over despair if it means he gets to hold his wife and children once more.

***

Daniel massages his right temple gently, since he is less sensitive to touch on his right side, and it helps a little with his residual pain in his right eye. It might just be a placebo effect, but he’ll take it, since massaging his temple is far less addictive than a pain-killer.

The reason he needs a little extra relief, however, is because of his absolutely shameless golden dragon mistress, Jeavana.

Jeavana giggles as she continues to hug his neck, cuddling with him on his lap as he sits in the main gathering room near the control room for the Citadel. Here, he’s waiting for word from Sundenelle the next day after Neith left to deliver the message to her.

But, so are a lot of other people; mostly women.

Jeavana pulled a trump card out of her cleavage –literally– after Daniel kept his ‘promise’; learning from Doephluev, she gambled and won, but against Ryuogriar of all people.

Allegedly.

Regardless, she had a ‘special privilege card’, which allows her to act however she wishes for a day. And, she chose today, immediately afterwards, to cling to Daniel more than she had been any other time.

She isn’t being aggressive, but she is affectionately leaning against Daniel’s collar, humming happily as her tail sways back and forth along Daniel’s left thigh.

“Jeavana…?”

“Yes, Mukori?” replies the golden blonde with a giddy and playful tone as she rubs her cheek against him. Her horns are less ‘dangerous’ than Ryuogriar’s, which are more like a ram’s. Jeavana’s horns are similar to Yaulwembor’s in the way that they are ‘jaw-shields’, as if meant for protecting her jaw joint more than anything, and allowing her, in her natural form, to headbutt things violently from the side with minimal harm to herself.

Jeavana kisses Daniel’s cheek affectionately. He knows why, but they’re supposed to be waiting on a highly important reply from their counterpart, and a lot of the others are gathered, including Willow and Clover, who are seated in Jeavana’s lap against Daniel’s abdomen as they witness their foolish mother in her full and shining glory.

She might as well be glowing as brilliantly as pure gold in an afternoon sunlight with how happy and content she is at the moment.

“Is this really the wish you wanted to waste your win against Ryuo-Mukori on?”

“Yup,” purrs the dragon with no hesitation, kissing Daniel’s neck. He’s a little uncomfortable, but most of the women are ignoring them to the best of their ability, and Neith and Magnir generally don’t care. If Neith had anything to say, it would be in support of his little sister, but she is content enough, so he has withheld any objections he might’ve had. “What’s wrong, Mukori? Am I so terrible to be with?”

Daniel replies honestly, “Not terrible. Confusing. And, uh… awkward timing.”

She giggles, saying a little shamelessly, but apologetically towards the other ladies, “I won’t make too much of a fuss if you neglect me, since I get to be with you out in the field as your personal guard when Neith or Magnir aren’t at your side.” She squeezes his neck a little more with her arms, and she whispers something she has been saying since their shared night that only just ended. “Daniel… thank you…”

The mechanic chuckles and sighs. “Wenlie-Mukori, you’re next. I promise.”

She scoffs and looks away. “As long as Jeavana keeps her promises…”

“I will!” whines the golden dragon. “But, I’m a pitiful soul who has never been spoiled like this! Let me have this today!”

The ladies leave it alone, since the Dragon Empresses have probably explained a little more in depth how badly Jeavana was doing before Daniel came along. The fact that she only got the suffocation-until-unconscious treatment was a blessing to her, even though she wasn’t given the ‘deal’ as early as Ryuogriar, Reignleif, and Geirahoel.

Trying to have some semblance of a meaningful meeting, though, as they wait on Neith’s message, Daniel asks, “Aramellianna, if the Empire does hold a ceremony for Archmagus Baelok, what are our options?”

“Is the answer worth a day of me being spoiled as well, your Grace?” asks Aramellianna with her usual, prideful voice

Wenlianna instantly whines, “Mother!?” while Daniel lets out a defeated sigh.

The brunette Grand Duchess Senior chuckles, continuing, “I jest. Though, if we are discussing fairness…”

Daniel feels like arrows are raining down on him, and Aramellianna knows it as well, which is why she’s firing her own. But, she takes his question seriously, “But, the Empress will undoubtedly hold a large ceremony. It will actually be our best time to act.”

“Even though it would be marching in on a man’s funeral?” asks Daniel.

“I would argue that the man himself will forgive us if he ends up alive in the end. Most likely. And, since we have confirmation of its acceptability from our very own consultants,...” She gestures at Kaeralegier, who is hovering just out of reach of Clover and Willow, with the latter twin trying to catch her. “I don’t believe we will be struck down for ‘desecrating a corpse’. I… assume your intention is to not desecrate the corpse of a man that you intend to save, yes?”

Daniel nods. “Would it be reasonable for Sundenelle to invite us to the funeral?”

“Of course,” replies the Grand Duchess Senior. “Even if Yaulander stands in opposition to the notion, you are, at present, betrothed to her Grace. Or, on the mirror side of the argument, Hekate is an ally that we can excuse as having already been on her way to visit the Empire, and even if Yaulander accuses the Fievegal, it will be dangerous for them to act against Hekate directly. Normally, these kinds of things would take time to prepare for, but it’ll be best if we act on a more hasty side. He wasn’t a high ranking lord, directly, so Baelok’s funeral won’t be on the scale of the late Emperor or anyone else of high rank. But, it’ll still be a major event with a lot of the nobility attending, since he has been a pillar of the Empire’s support for many years.”

“And, many generations,” jokes Senn.

“Assuming we get Sundenelle’s permission, then, we’ll need to rehearse Byleathea’s entrance, right? And, we need to make sure she isn’t discovered or harmed in the process.”

“If you’ll entrust the task to me, I am the least known of the Fievegal’s mages,” offers Illianna. She has long been one of Vaergraes’ closest confidantes, and though she has mostly been tasked with monitoring Thymeria’s condition, she is a powerful mage in her own right.

“In that case, I volunteer as well,” adds Djihnlierr. “I feel comfortable saying Illianna and I should be quite sufficient at guarding her Ladyship.”

“I accept your ability to defend me, my Ladies, but…” Byleathea raises her hand as she steps forward. “I worry… concerns will not be abated if the species known largely in the east as the ‘True Demons’.”

“As long as we hide their identities, it shouldn’t be an issue, right?” asks Hekate. “Is… that alright?” She looks at Illianna and Djihnlierr with her ears drooped cautiously.

“I would have assumed it went without saying,” replies Illianna. “Our role will be defensive, so what we look like is irrelevant.”

“That said, we can’t wear heavy armor, or it’ll interfere with our fighting style and our senses,” warns Djihnlierr.

Before anything else can be said, a short-range teleportation light appears, and Neith steps out of the receiving circle in his full armor as Sir Larven. He is wearing the teleporter pack that several of the ladies made for Daniel, and he kneels as he takes off his helmet, since Xyreko is the one who teleported him from the receiving circle to the present location as the teleporter pack cools down.

“Forgive me for interrupting, my L-...” The grey dragon halts when he looks at Daniel and Jeavana. He lingers on them for only a moment before finally clearing his throat, and Daniel can hear the golden dragon giggle as she continues to lean against him. Neith does his best to keep rolling after a momentary stall, and he continues, “My Liege. *Ahem*. Her Grace Sundenelle received a request for aid from Ahmpur, and she intends to go to the border town of Kebel, where she is hoping Daniel and Hekate, at a minimum, can join her to discuss Archmagus Baelok, as well as to assist with the emergency.”

“What happened?” asks Hekate.

Aramellianna remarks, “Kebel… I don’t think I know where that is…”

Neith explains, “Kebel is located on the western border near the entrance to the ‘Serpent’s Gullet’. There is a mine of Ahmpur near there that has collapsed, and there are over fifty miners unaccounted for.”

Neith explains the rest of what he learned before returning, and the mood turns a little grim. Daniel can feel Jeavana shift slightly in his arms as her own mood softens into sadness.

“A mine collapse?” asks Zuzia. “Do… we have special mine-rescue equipment?” She looks at Daniel.

Daniel shakes his head. “And, I don’t know anything about mine rescue, modern or this era. The only thing I know is that if we aren’t careful, we could easily make it worse.”

Zuzia looks down as she tries to think. She could easily smash her way through all of the rocks, but unless she plans to punch the mountain apart from the top down, collapsing the mine further on the miners, if there are any survivors, is a very real possibility.

She finally stands up and says, “Daniel… I don’t care what you say. I’m going. So, I beg you, give me a shovel or a pickaxe that can withstand my strength. I have to try.”

Daniel looks at her, and then the others around him. No one has any objections about helping, and if anything…

“Putting Ahmpur further in our debt is the callous, but useful way to look at it,” states Aramellianna. “It’s a waste for perfectly good miners to vanish so swiftly.”

“I don’t like the timing,” remarks Vaergraes. “If this is related to our methods to stop the mana fire, then I feel like we should try to help. But, a mine collapse is a tricky situation. Especially if we run into anti-magic materials. I don’t know where the concentrations are highest, but I do know much of the central mountain range contains a variety of the anti-magic materials you’ve identified and used, Daniel.”

“Make two of the shovels, my Liege. I will assist my sister,” offers Neith.

“Me as well,” offers Magnir.

Daniel massages his temple for a moment, and Zuzia says sourly, “Daniel, I’m serious. With or without…”

He holds up his hand, and she stops. She’s a little indignant, but an epiphany hits Daniel as the woman speaking reminds him of something.

Using her inhuman strength to simply brute-force dig is an idea.

Do I make a big-ass drill bit and just have Zuzia and Neith turn it by hand? It would probably work… A Zuzia-powered boring machine. Stupid, but functional, I guess. But… slow.

It looks ridiculous in his imagination, but it would probably get the job done, but it would indeed be very slow. Even the boring machines of Earth take time to carve away the rock.

No… I need to think bigger. We have magic. I have most of the world’s most powerful mages around me. But, we need something that can operate as a lead-shielded device, just in case.

He opens his eye as it starts to take shape, and he looks at Zuzia. Then, he looks at Wenlianna nearby, and the brunette perks up.

I also have the best magic artisans in the world. So… What would work? A dragon-powered flamethrower? No… Ignityal would cook them inside, and it’d burn up whatever shreds of oxygen there are. A hydro lance? But, I’d need to account for all of the water… Digging up would be fine, as long as we can hit the tunnel. But, those guys are probably running out of air and water…

Daniel looks at his dragon companions, and Zuzia asks, “Come on, Daniel. If you’ve got something, let me hear it. If it’s not better than a shovel, then might as well…”

“It’s better than a shovel,” replies Daniel. “We have two jobs that need to be done, and I’ll likely need your strength to make any of them practical. But, if my instincts are right, we need to get air to the miners, which means we’ll need more than one team.” Daniel looks at Wenlianna, saying, “Wenlie-Mukori; I have a project that you’ll need to work on with Ahok while I prepare other materials. We’re going to dig, but the first method will be a hydro lance for the main tunnel, and while one of our strength-maxxers are using that, the other will be running a bore to get air and water to the miners as fast as possible.” He smirks as he says, “A magma bore.”

“And… you have these things?” asks Zuzia.

“Not yet, but if Wenlie and Ahok can prepare the guts I need, we’ll use the Citadel’s mana reserves to summon the materials I need. They’ll be limited to these functions, basically, but I don’t care. I don’t want to leave them to die. Especially if…” He looks at Vaergraes, adding softly, “If this is my fault…”

Everyone is quiet, but they have a plan now.

Zuzia replies, “Whatever you need me to do, I’ll help.”

“Your job will be during the digging. So, if you can practice your footing so that you can push a spear through a mountain, I’ll make you a spear that’ll go through the mountain.”

Zuzia laughs and shakes her head. “Alright. I’ll practice my feet barriers, then. Neith, Senn, Serrentuk; please help me practice.”

The three she just named rise, though Senn asks, “Do you need our help in these projects, Daniel?”

“Not yet, but if I do, I’ll ask for it at that time. Thank you in advance.”

“Of course.” She smiles at him, adding softly, “You’re at your most admirable when you’re helping people.”

“We all are,” replies Daniel with a smile. “But, don’t flirt with me too much. Zuzia will think you’re trying to join my harem.”

“Ugh… Idiot,” grumbles Zuzia as she waves her team onwards. “Let’s go.”

“I should find a way to relay a message to Sundenelle, though…” starts the dragon.

“I’ll handle it,” replies Ryuogriar. “Once you’ve exhausted yourself of mana for Zuzia’s training, you can head back to escort her. I’ll have a reply prepared before then, as well as some resources she might need.”

“Understood, your Grace,” replies the dragon with a bow.

“Treia, Gwen, and Veiranoei, I doubt Sundenelle is going to object to our plan for Baelok, but if you would, work with Doephluev to prepare a plan for the presentation we’ll make. Feel free to combine any sort of rituals that you know of. Vaergraes, for the time being, can you and Aoloan question our prisoners, particularly those we can prove are guilty as quickly as possible? Offer them something that could see their immediate family retired for the rest of their lives, either a pension that could pay way more than living expenses for the rest of their lives, or a one-time sum.”

“I’ll begin at once,” says Vaergraes as she and Aoloan rise to their feet. Aoloan adds, “What if we can’t find enough volunteers? Ten is a lot of people, and most of our worst criminals have already been killed. Mostly because ‘arresting’ them wasn’t that high of a priority at the time.”

“We won’t be making a habit out of this,” replies Daniel. He sighs. “If there are terminal patients that we can’t help, offer them the same rewards, but try to keep it quiet. The last thing in the world I want is people poisoning each other to try to get the pension at the expense of their own family members.”

Zuzia scoffs. “I hate that you’re probably right to be concerned about that… It’d definitely happen on Earth.”

Daniel nods in agreement.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” replies Aoloan. “We’ll start with criminals and hope for the best, then.”

Daniel smiles and warns, “Doephluev, please play nice. You’re still in hot water right now, so I don’t want any games. Just help plan out a script for the rituals and the disguises.”

“I’ll watch over them,” replies Geirahoel. “I’ll help with the outfits as well.”

Doephluev replies, “I’ll behave, Darling.” She’s less enthusiastic than normal, but she does add sincerely, “If Geirahoel will, we could use some plants for incense to help make it more convincing.”

“No actual mind-altering incense,” replies Daniel. “Just something that smells nice and might be convincing enough.”

She nods in agreement, smiling at the fact that Daniel is talking to her closer to normal. “I know some perfect ingredients.”

“Good. I’m going right to work, so if you need anything, contact me through Jeavana.”

“Me?” asks the golden dragon.

“Yep. I don’t need you to do anything else right away, and I’ll need Wenlianna and Ahok to keep their mana entirely dedicated on the designs.”

“I’ll join you as well,” replies Reignleif. “I might be able to help a little, since my wonderful Great Grandniece will be working diligently on this project.”

“I’ll prepare the buses and some men to accompany the away team,” states Aramellianna as she stands up. “Regardless of how your mining equipment will work, we will likely need manpower to evacuate the miners, if there are miners to evacuate.”

“Alright. We have a plan,” replies Zuzia. “Just in case, make those shovels, too, Daniel. And, whatever else might work for manual labor, just in case.”

Daniel nods. “I will. But, I really think these things will work.”

That said, he has to quickly slap together some designs that won’t destroy themselves, because he’ll have to summon them in one piece, essentially, and install the internals afterwards.

No pressure.

***