Mud and its humans quickly returned to the slums outside of the Geltheas city walls. Jabrax remained at the mansion to continue examining the control mechanisms, and Bark remained to avoid any complications from Cithlar being spotted near the city. As Mud's group approached the edges of the forest, Novus spoke up from her spot a pace behind the golem.

"Sir, what if the enemy soldiers notice us?" With slow and careful movements, the swordswoman peeked out around the edge of the conifer she hid behind, examining the empty city streets for any sign of movement.

"In that scenario, we will flee. In order to reduce the likelihood of such an event, we will be working quickly."

"So," Cob jumped down from Jericho's shoulders, who had carried him down the hill. "What did we come for? What are we looting?"

"A house."

After a moment of thought, Cob burst into laughter. Mud ignored the outburst and proceeded towards a poorly constructed, although large, wooden shack. The golem circled the building once and then climbing over the top. After a quick examination of every nook and cranny of the weather-worn structure, Mud dropped to the cobblestone streets.

Next, Mud entered the unlocked front door and disappeared from sight. A minute later, he crawled out of a hole in the roof. "This building is suitable."

Mud then began pulling off small chunks of its own flesh. Using the same combination of skills as it had used to craft shovels, Mud bound the more poorly fastened boards, beams, and planks more securely to the structure. On the cobblestone streets below, the humans simply gawked at the strange actions. Aside from Jericho, who as usual stared vacantly into the air.

Finished with its task, Mud once again returned to the road. The golem placed two muddy paws on the side of the shack and released a powerful wave of Mind mana into the building.

"I have reduced the weight and friction of the structure. Each human, lift a corner."

As instructed, the three humans quickly ran to a corner. Cob was quickest, grabbing the closest corner. The final corner of the building was taken by Mud itself.

"Lift on three. One, two, three-whoa!" As the group lifted the object, they were shocked by how light it had become. Where it not for the incredibly awkward shape, it could have been lifted by a single person.

"Alright, where are we taking this?" Cob yelled around the side of the building towards Mud, holding his part of the building aloft with a single hand.

"We will place this building in front of the mansion."

Novus spoke in a much softer tone, still scanning the streets for Phagia scouts. "How do we get it through the trees? It's way too big for the trail."

"I have calculated a path through the forest that will allow this structure passage."

"Oh no." Cob's cry of despair put a twang of fear into Novus' heart.

"First, we need to turn the building onto its starboard side with the fore of the building forward, then push it through those two trees. Second, without releasing pressure from the lower left pillar, which would cause the structure to collapse, we'll need to add twenty-seven degrees of yaw rotation and thirteen degrees of pitch rotation exactly, then advance three-fifths of a unit north by north-east."

While it had taken ten minutes to descend the forest trail to the slums at a light jog, it ended up taking several hours to return to the mansion carrying the slum house. Matters were simplified by Mud's careful use of the MITH interface to give directions at Novus's suggestion, but disaster nearly struck as wolves attempted to ambush the group as they navigated a tricky group of trees

The wolves were easily struck down, but a tree was felled by a wayward attack, blocking Mud's intended path. Cob bypassed the problem by throwing the building over the treetops. Mud berated him for the act which would be highly visible to enemy troops, but the tactic took an hour of meandering and backtracking off of the planned course.

With the slum house finally in place in front of the Cithlar Estate, Mud removed its spell and retrieved its body parts. It was now time to check on Jabrax.

Two Phagia Republic troops sat at their union-designated rest period, eating their rations. The demi-wolverine soldier looked enviously at the high-quality honeydew cake ration of his ant-man friend while slowly chewing his own goblin jerky. The votes which determined military ration options had, as usual, assigned more budget to the meals eaten by the largest number of voters.

Of course, the demi-wolverine James could also order a honeydew cake ration, but it was simply not suitable to his palette. It was overly sweet, to the point it was nauseating to all but ant-men. Unfortunately, there were very few carnivores in the Republic at the moment, and as a result, the meat-only rations were repulsive. After struggling to swallow a disgusting chunk of goblin-meat, James washed it down with a glass of cool, pure water. A love of pure water, at least, was something almost every species had in common.

"So, Communications Officer, heard anything interesting?" The ant-man lifted her head from her cake, bits of light brown crumbs stuck to her mandibles. Brushing them away with a foreleg, she chittered out a reply.

"Interesting hmm? Well, this town is rather unusual I'd say. There have been some very odd sightings since the attack." Her comment tapered off with a soft chittering.

James grinned toothily. "Interesting how? Come now, give me something specific." James took a large bite out of the goblin jerky. Some good gossip would do a better job of distracting him from the foul taste of goblin than the excessive quantities of salt that had been used to prepare it.

"Well," the ant-man cleaned an antenna between her forelegs as she spoke. "There was a report of a flying house over the forest to the east of town."

"A flying house? Like one of those floating castles?" That was interesting, although not overly rare.

"We don't think so. The report said it looked like an old shack. Not the sort of place someone rich enough to make their house fly would live."

"Strange..." James rolled a bit of gristle between his teeth. "You said sightings right? Plural? What else?"

"Hah, I'm glad you asked." James didn't doubt it. Perhaps the greatest flaw of ant-men as communications officers was their love of gossip. They seemed to have great difficulty understanding the concept of secrecy between allies due to their communal nature. Eventually, the Republic had just given up on trying to enforce data security among their kind, choosing instead to have them transmit sensitive information in ciphers the ants themselves didn't know how to decode. Information that was deemed low-risk was still transmitted unmodified, however.

The ant-man enthusiastically continued her story. "Well, you know how we chased those enemy combatants east of the dungeon, right? Well, along the way some of our brothers encountered a smithery. When they went in to liberate the smiths riches for the people of Phagia, the store owner attacked them."

Guessing there was more to the story than just a store owner being killed or captured, James pushed for details. "And then what happened?"

"Hmm, that's the good part. He threw some piles of chains at our brothers. The chains were covered and blades and hooks and such, but he threw them with such a lack of skill that none of our brothers were injured. Everyone thought he was just crazy, but then the chains came to life! They started crawling over people, slicing them, stabbing them, strangling them, all sorts of nasty stuff."

"Wow." James tried to picture the carnage as living chains covered in blades went on a rampage through a platoon.

"Yeah wow. Apparently he had dozens of the things. Each one was slightly different, too. The most advanced ones had spools and spring-loaded hook launchers."

"Did they get the guy?"

The communications officer hung her head and swayed it side to side. "No, the building has not been liberated yet as far as I've heard. When our brothers retreated to regroup, the chain things did not follow. It was decided we would let the shop-owner remain in place until a high-tiered servant of the people is available to clear him out."

James took a sip of water. "Hmm, if he made those himself, it might be dangerous to leave an enchanter that skilled to his own devices. He might be building something even worse."

"Would you like me to call for a vote to increase the priority of liberating the smithery?" The ant-man lifted her head as her antenna swayed excitedly.

"No, no, no need for a vote. Just some idle speculation. Forget all about it." James waved his arms in front of himself frantically.

"Oh..." The communications officer lowered her head dejectedly.

Letting out a sigh of relief as she gave up, the demi-wolverine tried to change the subject. "So, what about our servants' battle with the city's oligarchy? How's that going?"

"The conflict still occupies our high tier servants' time." The ant-man huffed in annoyance. "Really, they should just hurry up and do their job already. Taking so long is completely opposed to the Ideal of Phagia!"

"Hmm? Is it?" James had an uncertain look on his face.

"Of course it is! Making the many wait around for the few..." The communications officer raised her head high and looked down her mandibles towards the sitting demi-wolverine. "Say, what's your skill level in Phagia Republic?"

"Urrr, well, that is..." James shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Well?" The ant-man glowered over James, who turned his head to avoid looking into her massive compound eyes.

"I have... two ranks." James spoke softly, looking down at the disgusting goblin meat in his hands.

"Pathetic." The ant-man went back to eating her honeydew cake. After a few bites, she turned her head back towards the now silent James. "You should really meditate on the Ideal more. Even if you aren't suited to magic use, it will really change the way you see the world and make you a better functioning member of society."

"I know. I just have a hard time understanding some parts of it. It's really complicated." James took another bite of his Jerky. "I'll try to do better."

"That's the spirit, brother!" The communications officer happily dug into her cake.

James let out a bitter sigh. It wasn't really that the Ideal was complicated. James had hesitated in raising skill for another reason entirely. He had seen how it changed people. With each level, his friends had become more obsessed with 'serving the many', and started calling for votes on even the most trivial of subjects. The way their personalities had shifted so much as they mastered the Ideal deeply disturbed James. Still, he couldn't avoid leveling it forever.

James snuck a glance at the gossipy communications officer. By the end of the day, everyone in the camp would know his skill rank in Phagia Republic, and he would never hear the end of it.

The elites of Geltheas and Phagia faced each other atop the domed roof of the huge dungeon fortification. Normal soldiers were pointless in a battle of this kind, and both sides knew it. The normal Republic soldiers had pulled back to focus on smaller tasks that were within their ability, and the monsters below simply spread across the city unopposed. By now, the delvers and guardsmen should have reached the fallback fortifications.

The nine on this rooftop would determine the fate of the city. On one side stood Leader Ghul, Captain Lgur, High Priest Dicitiam, and the samurai Shin. On the other, five servants of Phagia.

Towering above the rest stood a massive ant-man; a member of the warrior caste. Easily twice as tall as a human, even standing on all six legs as she was. Her disproportionately large head supported an equally oversized set of mandibles. Ornate white plate barding covered the majority of her enormous body.

Sitting on the ant-man's back was the smallest of the enemy troops. A pixie, less than a handspan tall. Although tiny, his physique was impressive, with rippling muscles quite in contrast to the usual dainty appearance of the fey. White light shined from his eyes and covered his body, making him difficult to see. His body seemed to tremble with barely contained energy, his hands tightly clutching metal claws. It was a common mistake among the inexperienced to assume a physically small creature would lack in strength. Perhaps that was true in tier zero, but class levels quickly made such racial differences irrelevant.

A human in ragged sackcloth stood beside the ant, a thick metal collar around his neck. By the looks of it, a slave collar. Strange, considering slavery is illegal in the Republic. his bare feet had thick callouses, and his skin was leathery from overexposure to the sun. Wild and tangled grey hair shrowded his face, but it was not the grey of age. It was the bold grey of the Phagia Republic flag. It was clear what Ideal this man had steeped himself in most.

Next was a priest. Compared to the vibrant rainbow coloration of Dicitiam's robes, the Republic priest's dull grey was extremely muted. Within his hands, he grasped a simple wooden carving of a pyramid, held with the point aiming down. Although he was still young, a spark of fanatism was clear in his eye. He scowled in hatred at Dicitiam. From what Ghul understood, the Church of Phagia saw the demiurge as the enemy of all life. Unlike the Venerable Gnostics, who waged war with Magical Beasts in order to feed their suffering to Yaldabaoth, the Phagians sought to cooperate with Magical Beasts in opposition of Yaldabaoth. This put the two churches firmly at odds with each other.

And the last among them was a handsome, almost statuesque man in a fine suit. It was a man the people from Geltheas recognized, for they had met him only two days before at the tournament. Vale Farwind, a visiting diplomate from the Phagia Republic.