Listen up men. We have fought to unify our land into an empire. We have fought against those who want to destroy our empire. We have fought abominations from beyond the material plane. I ask you to fight, for one last time, against those who rebel against our empire.

Within three years from the start of the purging of void mages, only three Void Houses remain. One of them is on top of that plateau. It will be tough. Many of us will die. But in the end, we shall prevail. In the end, we will kill them all!

Paximillon is with us. His servant, Emperor Krystfallen, is with us. We will cleanse these lands from those despicable void users!

Speech of General Emanuel Luna

(Imperial Records on the Extermination of Void Mages)

A large hooded man walked down the narrow street, with massive fists swinging at his sides like sledgehammers on a pendulum; people scrambled to get out of his way. The people hugged the walls to let the man pass, never daring to bump into him. Only his squared off chin and fierce grimace can be seen beneath his hood. Even under his heavy cloak, it can be seen that he was very well built, his bulging muscles on his back and shoulders made him look like a hulking hunched back. A large rectangular object, wrapped in a cloth, was strapped to his back.

He stopped in front of a dimly lit pub. Its battered sign hung precariously from a single rusty nail hammered into a termite infested strip of wood. It read “The Skullcap”, with a drawing of a skull fashioned into a flagon, overflowing with ale, at the bottom.

The man pushed open the door and hunched down to fit through it, taking care not to hit his head.

The people inside the pub seemed oblivious to the giant that entered their midnight hideout. They just stared blankly into space while nursing their mugs of beer. No raucous laughter or a rioting drunkard. All of the people seem to be in a stupor.

The man strode over to a table hidden away at the far corner of the pub.

Four of his companions were already seated with their cloaks pulled low to cover their face, just like him.

“Glad you finally arrived, Bhorg,” a female voice said. “Have a seat. Now we can discuss our plans.”

Bhorg unstrapped the rectangular object he was carrying, placed it against the wall and sat down. The creaking of the wooden chair as it strained to carry his weight echoed through the quiet pub.

“I had to make sure no one was following me,” Bhorg said in a gruff voice.

The female, who seemed to be the leader, just nodded her head. “How are the transactions?”

“My lady, we secured the transportation of two hundred sets of enchanted armor. There are some issues as to customs and border patrol, but our seller assured as that it will go through smoothly.”

“You have checked the wares?”

“Yes, my lady, all of them are within our specifications.”

“How about the ones who will receive the delivery?”

“All of our agents are in position across the continent to ensure the safety and secrecy of the delivery. They will arrive in our clan within two months.”

Their leader steepled her fingers on the table. “That’s acceptable. We can’t move via the central warp systems of major cities. We also do not have many mages who can provide mass teleportation. It’s important that the delivery will arrive intact. How about further shipments?”

“They are cautious and want some security first, since our payment method is, er… unconventional.”

“Understandable. We have already confirmed the payment method with them. I will confer with the seller after this.”

Another female spoke up. “My lady, I apologize if I had brought this up before, but our payment will put many of our warriors in danger.”

“I have noted your concerns. You have to understand, Ethani, that we need to secure a large number of weapons, armors, even golems to support our cause. While our resources are enough to acquire such needs, we cannot readily use these resources because it will be easily detected and traced back to us.”

“My lady, it is so obvious what they are going to do with our manpower! We should not be part of it,” Ethani said.

“I am firm in my choice. Sacrifices have to be made and we should be prepared to face the consequences later on. But we should not lose sight of our goal. For the satisfaction of this goal, we should increase our strength through arms.”

“Understood, my lady.”

The man sitting beside their leader shifted in his sit and leaned forward. “Lady Lantana, there is also the matter of the fighter in the arena calling himself BasketSlayer.”

“I have seen him fight. He fights well,” Bhorg said.

“BasketSlayer? What is our business with people hiding under droll aliases?” Lantana asked.

“He claims he’s Roghinian, my lady.”

Lady Lantana sat up straight and pounded the table with her fist. “What? How can that be? The other clans know that we are here?”

“We don’t know his intentions. He just fights in the arena. His black hair and eyes tell of Roghinian origin.”

“Having black hair and eyes by themselves does not make you Roghinian, said Bhorg. “I have seen his runes. They are different.”

“Different? In what way?”

Bhorg took off his hood. Intricate tattoos spiraled around his left eye, running to the side of his head where a complicated hexagonal magic seal formation was drawn. The tattoos were not merely black ink drawn on his face but were actually deep grooves running on his skin.

“The runes on his body can only be seen if he uses them. They glow red, just like ours. If he doesn’t use his magic there are no marks on his body, unlike ours.”

“Bhorg, what type of magic does he use?”

“I don’t know, Lady Lantana.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? How can that be? Aren’t you a warrior of the Venenum clan? It’s a disgrace if you don’t even know what this person has cast.”

The man besides Lady Lantana came to the aid of Bhorg. “My lady, this BasketSlayer has only shown his runes twice in combat. Both times, they do not show any apparent effects. His speed is commendable. But that’s all that we can see. ”

“His runes don’t look like ours.”

“Yes, very different from ours. I don’t even think the runes are for combat purposes.”

“His remarkable speed is not due to his runes. The ones on his body are probably restraints.”

“Nonsense, Bhorg. Why would he have restraint runes?”

“So, what do you think of him Bhorg? Should we eliminate him?” Lantana asked.

“My lady! If we eliminate him, that’s the same as confirming our presence in this country. All the other clans will immediately know if one of their warriors suddenly perishes. Especially since this one openly fights in the arena of this city!” Ethani said.

“I was talking to Bhorg.” Lantana stared at Ethani, who mumbled a quick apology.

“Lady Lantana, it is precisely because he fights in the arena that I don’t think he is Roghinian. No proud warrior of Roghinia would want to be made a spectacle of. We don’t fight for recognition and praise.”

“Yes, I agree with you. And as you said, he does not have the same rune tattoos as a Roghinian from the warrior caste.”

Their companion who has kept silent joined in the discussion. “Lady Lantana, if I may, while this person might not be an actual Roghinian warrior, he might be a plant or a trap of sorts. If we act hastily and meet him unprepared, the other clans will quickly know of our presence. I suggest that we don’t make any contact with him at all.”

‘No!” Bhorg growled. “We should not allow him to taint the status of Roghinian warriors! We should put down this impostor!”

“Calm down Bhorg. Do you really want to broadcast our presence here to the entire world? Swallow your pride, we all should. As warriors we shouldn’t even be sneaking around and hiding in the dark. But here we are.”

Lady Lantana had a sad smile on our face. “Sneaking around in the dark. Like rats.” She looked at Bhorg and said, “We have to do this Bhorg, for the sake of our clan. For the sake of all Roghinia. We have to hide ourselves in the dark.”

“Understood, my lady.”

“It is still best to keep an eye on him. Ethani, you tail him. The rest of you, let us make sure that the first shipment reaches our clan. Roghinia is a long ways away from here. We also need to secure the next shipment.”

“We obey, Lady Lantana.”

The BasketSlayer couldn't help but gape at the sight.

“Impressive isn’t it?” Emelie said. She was quite delighted that the BasketSlayer accompanied them to church service.

“Impressive does not even cover it.”

They stood in a plaza fronting the entrance of the Church of the Dragon. A steady flow of people streamed inside the vast cathedral.

Two gigantic metal doors were wide open, welcoming all who comes to worship. The doors were carved in high relief with scenes from the Siege. On the right door, while facing the entrance, part of the city wall was illustrated, with the forces of Krysperium defending it. The left side door showed the Blighted Multitude coming to attack the city. Flanking the doors were two stone sculptures of dragons, wings unfurled, rearing up with claws and fangs bared.

“The construction started during the reign of Emperor Greenlowe, exactly a hundred years after the Siege. Engynares, golems, and mages were employed to finish this masterpiece within fifty years. If not for magic, I’m sure they could not have finished this even in a hundred years.”

BasketSlayer took a few steps back and whistled at the sight. Eight large columns, four on each side of the entrance, support the façade. Green shaded gneiss was carved into vines and branches coiling around the column. It contrasted with the granite columns, showing the beauty and ruggedness of nature.

“If you will closely examine the columns, it would look like gneiss and granite were welded together like metal. You have to give credit to the earth mages who made it.”

The façade contained sculptures depicting the Emperor Krystfallen in his dragon form with his Chosen, battling the forces of the Blighted Multitude. It was a fierce sight to behold. The depictions of the abominations they were exterminating were truly terrifying and life-like, ready to leap from the façade and attack the people.

“Let’s go inside.” Emelie took his left arm by the elbow and pushed him forward. Orvin followed behind them. “This is the Dragonyxum Basilica. It has twelve spires symbolizing the Dragon Emperor Krystfallen and his Dragon’s Chosen. The eleven spires are of equal height, while the one for Emperor Krystfallen is higher than the rest. We can’t see it from here, but each of the spires are surmounted by a statue of the person they symbolize.”

They entered the church and stood in the entrance hall. It contained four massive sculptures. Beyond the sculptures was the entrance to the nave of the church.

Emelie ran towards one of the sculptures and placed her hands on it. “Can you guess what these are?” She asked the BasketSlayer.

The huge sculptures were made of marble. They all depicted some kind of beast covered by a veil, some of its features were hinted by the contours of the cloth while parts of the paws or claws stuck out from beneath the cloth. He closely examined the veil carved from marble. “The divine beasts of Paxmillon.”

“Very good!” Emelie clapped her hands. “People don’t really know what they look like and it is considered sacrilegious to try to depict them so they are shown as this.”

They continued towards the church proper. The interior of the building was exceedingly vast. There were five aisles. The central nave vaults were fifty meters from the ground while the side nave vaults reach forty meters. The columns supporting the ceiling split off and continuously branched out until they connect to the ceiling. It gave the feeling that one was lost in an ancient forest of towering trees.

“Amazing isn’t it? It gives a feeling that we are one with nature. That we are all connected and of the same existence.”

“You should look at the pipe organ!” Orvin said, pointing at the direction of the presbytery.

Thousands of pipes were arranged into dozens of rows. The top of each pipe was fashioned into the head of a dragon. It had a wooden casing with veins of carved ivory running through it, designed into dragons coiling throughout the pipe organ.

“Ten thousand pipes in total. All in working order, and have been since it was installed three hundred years ago!” Orvin said proudly. “A thousand unique dragon head designs were used to decorate the pipes, to stand for the dragon swarm that the First Emperor defeated when he came to establish Krysperium.”

“Come let us find a seat.”

Logan swished the golden liquid in his cup. “Such a decadent taste. I will give up my share of expensive wine if I can drink this once a year.”

“I doubt that is going to happen, dear brother. We were lucky that we found that Tyrant Drunstin mammoth. Even luckier because we found one that was nearly two hundred years old.”

“Hopefully, we did not spend all of our luck in hunting that beast.” Logan took a sip of his cup. “It feels like the essence of the majestic beast runs through my veins. Such an earthy flavor, but not terribly fruity.”

“The flavor of the Regallux wine really depends on the diet of the Drunstin mammoth. This one has just the right amount of crispiness to balance the acidity”

“Peculiar creatures, aren’t they? They ferment their own wine in a sac within their body.”

“Even beasts appreciate good wine.” The brothers laughed as they clinked their glasses together.

A short stout man stepped into the room. While the hair on his head was in the advanced stages of balding, his beard was full and covered his folds of chin. The brothers stood up as the man entered.

“Care to join us, dear father?” Logan said, offering a cup of wine.

The powerful patriarch of the Merchant House of Baccarat took the cup from the hands of his son. “Ah, Regallux wine. That mammoth brought a lot of benefits to our family.”

“Yes, the emperor was quite delighted when we presented to him its tusks. He will surely support us with our transactions with the management of the manaforges.”

“I am proud of you, my sons. I won’t lie, at first I was disappointed when you did not want to become merchants but chose instead to become warriors.” Their father went to the window and looked out while holding the cup filled with a mammoth’s internally brewed wine in his hand. “I was mistaken. You have grown into great warriors and became the pillars of the Baccarat family.”

“Wealth is might. But that does not hold true all the time,” Lucas said standing up and walking towards his father . “What is always true is that might is might. We may have a lot of money but the martial noble houses hold so much more power than us.”

“One day, we will stand above all of them, with our own might,” Logan added. He also stood at his father’s side.

The patriarch Baccarat turned around to face his sons. “I will support you all the way my sons.” He gave them a loving hug. “I will use all of our fortunes to give you the best equipment.”

“Thank you very much, father.”

Their father took their hands and looked into their eyes. “I have great news. I was able to secure two sets of armor made by Mendelin Gaomant of the Manaforgers House!”

Logan and Lucas inhaled a sharp breath, they both grasped their father’s hands intensely and then hugged him again. “Father, we won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t my sons,” the elder Baccarat assured them. “There’s only three of us left. After your mother died, I vowed that I will give the world to the two of you.”

“We will take the world, father,” Logan said. “Just support us and we will take the world.”

“Father, how were you able to such exceedingly precious equipment? The Gaomant House only caters to the martial noble houses.”

Their father gestured for them to bow down so that he can reach their ear. He told them in a whisper, “Our benefactor that I have told you about before, the person that has helped us in our early trades and has been a huge help in supporting us in carving a part of the market for equipment from the manaforges. He was the one who arranged such deal. As you can now deduce, he has some political clout in one of the martial noble houses. He still forbids me to tell anyone about our relationship. Nevertheless, he is pleased with your rising influence in the adventurers’ guild. I, myself, am quite astounded with the number of powerful followers that you have gathered. Our benefactor gives these two sets of top-class armor as a gesture of good will. I hope you put them to good use.”

“We won’t let you down, father. We will win the tournament and garner the favor of the princess.”

Thousands of people attended the church service, but all were accommodated given the size of the church. Orvin sat to the left of his sister while his teacher sat on the right side of his sister. His sister was a very devout follower of the Church of the Dragon and would often make long trips to Krysperium to attend services when they were still back in Dolsworth. Maybe it was because of her devotion to the Paximillon that she has a high level of resonance with the elements of existence.

The choir was singing along with the colossal pipe organ. The shape and size of the interior of the church would lead to some acoustical problems with the music, but magic could easily fix the flow of vibrations. Orvin couldn't even detect where the sound came from, it seemed to be from all around him at once. The wind bellowing from the pipes and the voices of the choir intertwined as one and wrapped around the hearts of the believers.

With the ringing of a bell, they all bowed their heads to pray. Dozens of priests stood at the far end of the nave, they arranged themselves into several rows beneath the high altar. The clergy chanted lines from ancient texts preserved from the time when the Dragon Emperor Krystfallen still walked the earth. Orvin took a glance at her sister. She was chanting, eyes close, along the priests, even though she did not understand the words which she memorized by heart. Only the ordained knows what they mean.

Orvin looked past her sister to take a glimpse of his teacher. He also bowed down, following the rest of the congregation but he had a perplexed look on his face. He kept raising his eyebrows and tilting his head. Orvin thought that his teacher was just probably adjusting to their culture of worship. The Roghinian’s way of worship would surely be different from theirs.

The high priest, dressed in ornate vestments fashioned to look like dragon scales, walked up the pulpit and read from a floating orb. It contained the teachings of the saints of the church. The passage being read was from the writings of the missionary named Berluz, who was later recognized as a saint.

The high priest first told the story of Berluz. He was a slave in the city-state of Bonhadrin, which bordered the empire of Krysperia. Bonhadrin sheltered the escaping void mages and actually allowed them to continue practicing their craft. The army of Krysperia could not readily take Bonhadrin because it was surrounded by mountain ranges with only a narrow valley as an entrance. The entire landscape was a natural fortress, forcing the armies to siege and blockade the entire territory rather than to mount a frontal attack that would result in numerous casualties..

A divine vision revealed itself to Berluz where a voice ordered him to take the city from within. He preached to his fellow slaves, and even to the slave masters and traders converting them all to his cause. It was said that on the day of their revolution, the heavens opened and gave them divine strength to tear apart the soldiers of the city with their bare hands. The Imperial Legion broke through the walls, taking advantage of the chaos inside.

“The light of the Paximillon shone upon me. It was brighter than the sun, the moon, and the stars combined. I cowered, closed my eyes, and covered my face with my hands. However, the brightness still burned my eyes. I heard a voice, it was still as a whisper yet it thundered through my heart. The voice told me to rise up. Rise up and take the city! I dared to look at the higher being who bestowed upon me the honor of carrying out his will. The flames of existence burned me, it would have torn me from the material plane were it not for the dragon who shielded me. The dragon covered me with six gigantic wings and whispered to me ‘I am Krystfallen’. ”

The high priest raised his arms to the heavens. “Brothers and sisters under the God of all existence. Saint Berluz sacrificed his life so that the heathen assailants of existence can be flushed from their hiding places. Bonhadrin was razed to the ground by our glorious armies. Not one stone was left on top of each other. Such was the punishment to those who abet those who upset the balance of nature. Saint Berluz followed the footsteps of the great servant of Paximillon, our First Emperor, Krystfallen. For his blood was spilled!”

The people also raised their hands and replied, “That our blood might flow.”

The bishop stepped forward to give his message to the people. Orvin sat up straight, eager to listen. He might not be as devoted as his sister, but he was an elemental mage. Elemental mages use their mana to extract elemental essence from nature. Orvin would not be able to use his power if the God Paximillon did not allow humankind to mimic nature and existence so that they will be able to perform their feeble copies of the glorious creation that surrounded them.

A wizened old man with a golden staff topped with a dragon claw holding a glowing orb, the bishop only wore a simple white robe. His attire symbolized oneness, unity, a blank slate upon which all of existence presents its many forms. The priests wore draconic vestments symbolizing the servitude of the dragon to Paximillon.

The bishop started a litany of ancient supplications. Sunlight filtering into the church seemed to glow brighter and split into different dancing colors, flitting around the massive tree-like columns supporting the vaults. A sense of peace and calm washed over the people. Orvin himself closed his eyes to stop the tears from coming out. He can feel the oneness of everything around him. His sister beside him was openly crying as the pipe organ played and the choir sang at the top of their voice. The music seemed to meld with the kaleidoscope of colors and touch their hearts. Even his teacher stood immobile and stared wide-eyed at the bishop, he was surely overcome with emotions.

“We are all part of an all-encompassing, God. The God of existence manifests in our surroundings, in all of us. Impart goodness unto others for you will be doing such service unto God, for we are but expressions of his power, we are but a minuscule aspect of existence. Let us give all forms of existence their due. Let us preserve existence from all those who beset it. Let the Dragon Emperor Krystfallen be our guide, our example, for he stood firm and resolute against the wave of mutation, corruption, and disintegration of all being. Let us not forget that his blood was spilled…”

“That ours might flow,” answered the people.

“From Paximillon came all that has existed, all that are in existence, and all that are yet to exist. Existence begat existence. The universe that was once, gave birth to what is now, and what will come to be. We are all connected. We are one.

“Beware of those who try to corrupt you, beware of what you let into your hearts. Let us not forget that there were once humans who betrayed Paximillon. They betrayed all of existence! They sided with the entity that wishes for our destruction. Beware beware, lest you fall into the same mistake. Let not the sacrifice of the great Krystfallen be in vain! For his blood was spilled!”

“That ours might flow.”

Aya had absolutely no idea what was going on. He massaged his temples and hastily dropped his hand as Emelie glanced at him. There were dried tears on her eyes and she was looking to see his reaction to the whole service. He smiled brightly, rapidly blinked and sniffled his nose, as if he was trying not to cry. Emelie hugged him tightly and quickly let him go when she realized what she was doing.

“Um, I’m sorry, I was just so…”

“That’s alright. I can understand. The feeling of being one with everything, its just so... ovewhelming,” Aya said.

“Yes! Yes, that’s it. I’m happy that you felt it as well. We are all one under Paximillon.”

A few more singing and sermons. Aya sat patiently through all of it. The teachings were well-meaning, he can see that. But a misguided mind cannot see the real consequences of his actions. This Church of the Dragon was now one of the major institutions in the empire that he built. Should he correct them? Does he have the right to correct them? After all, he had been ‘away’ for five hundred years.

While the others bowed their heads in prayer, he bowed his head in deep thought. Generations have believed that what they have been taught was correct. He was sure that the people tried to live meaningful lives according to what they have believed in. If he acted now, he would have robbed them of five hundred years of purpose. Humans crave for purpose. What right did he have to take away their purpose?

Such erroneous belief has led to countless deaths, meaningless deaths, during the war against the void mages. But those deaths were not meaningless to those that died. They would have died thinking they were fighting for a greater cause.

Nevertheless, that was in the past. Aya doubts that anyone of those who participated in the wars were still alive. The soldiers surely thought that they were fighting for what is right. The void mages were fighting for their survival. Who was at fault? Who can he blame? He snorted and smiled inwardly. All these was due to his ‘death’. So, technically, he had a part on all of this.

Several bells chimed in alternating tones, signaling the end of the service. Aya and the Nephtalis also stood up. Aya looked around once again. At the people. At the church.

What should he do? Reveal himself like some prophet of the ‘truth’? Consequences, consequences, consequences. Not just among the believers. Revealing himself would overturn five hundred years of history that people believed in.

“Civil war would be the least of my worries,” Aya muttered under his breath while gazing at the scepter of the bishop. "That thing looks familiar."

"Teacher! We should go now! I know of a nice place where we can eat." Orvin said.