The imps were the first to return from the eastern battle. The gusts of wind created by thousands of flapping wings made Solera’s hair blow about wildly. He would have to cut it later, he absentmindedly thought. It had grown much more quickly than usual recently.

A group of imps landed next to Solera. They seemed to be squabbling over an object one of them was holding.

It was a human head, the blood still dripping out from the rags of flesh that had been its neck.

Solera immediately averted his gaze, his breath turning ragged. What the fuck was this? A head, a human head, was being used as a trophy! No, but the United Duchies soldiers are scum. They deserve this…

Sweat trickled down Solera’s forehead. That line of logic didn’t go over well with him, even though it made perfect sense.

A ripping sound leaked into Solera’s ear, followed by chewing noises. Solera’s face changed. Resisting the urge to barf, he grabbed onto a vine and dropped onto the ground.

Another group of imps looked up from a rock covered with bloody detritus. One of them stuck its tongue out at Solera. Inside its mouth was an eyeball, the bundle of nerves attached to it chewed into mush. The eyeball swished around as the imp rolled its tongue to make a screeching noise. Its sharp teeth stabbed down into the eyeball, making it pop into a mist of blood that sprayed onto the imp’s face.

“Ughhhhh…” Solera bent down, his vomit spraying all over the ground. “Fuck…” Another wave hit him as he stumbled away, and he hurled again. The meters tall grass obscured the macabre sight, but could not shroud the noises of imps devouring their grisly trophies. The remnants of his breakfast and bile covered the muddy ground, until the only thing he could regurgitate was saliva.

The mud and bile below him bubbled and frothed, as if it was liquid, causing Solera to stare at it in blank confusion. It formed into a Vigor, clambering out of the mud. Behind it was the tunnel the Vigor had created along with some tired-looking soldiers. One of them squinted up at the tree, which was now covered with imps gorging on their spoils of war.

“What the fuck?” He said, his eyes narrowing. The other soldiers looked over at the tree. Immediately, their expressions changed into disgust.

A large group of soldiers gathered as more tunnels opened up. Any conversations they had died upon seeing the imps feasting on human remains. When Solera thought he finally had himself under control, he did a cursory scan of the crowd for Chianti. The stench of blood wafted into his nose, sending him into another fit as he stumbled towards the crowd.

“Disgusting savages!” One soldier, a short-haired woman, fired a lightning bolt over a branch on the fortress. “Stop that right now!”

The imps looked at her for a few moments before returning to their meals. The winged regulars began to return as well. Many were holding sticks which had speared four or five heads, some human and some not. Many of the heads had their eyeballs missing from their destroyed sockets, or even the entire face caved in. The dripping blood formed puddles staining the mud.

The woman was visibly appalled. Just as she was about to shoot again, Skadi’s guttural voice boomed out. He had arrived, yet again, to break up the brewing confrontation.

“Everyone, everyone.” Skadi placatingly raised up both arms in the air. “Is there a problem here?”

“Damn right there is!” An old man’s voice shouted out from within the crowd. It was the man from before, Scarlet. “They are desecrating the dead!”

Skadi looked at Scarlet, a pleasant smile on his face. “Those dead are, without exception, our enemies who violated the rules of war.”

Waving his hands off at the distance dismissively, Skadi shook his head as he waved his hands dismissively at the distance. “Think about your fellow soldiers at Fortress Hickory. Think about our young students who were studying there. Do those people, massacred without any mercy, deserve worse than the men who killed them?”

“Most of these guys were drafted!” The short-haired woman who had shot at the imps yelled, an angry look on her face. “They’re just following orders, just like us! Eating them, is, is, is a travesty! It’s pointless! This isn’t the southern continent. We are civilized people!”

“They’re dead bodies. Who cares?” Another soldier, a young man with truesight goggles, spoke up. “I mean, um, some of you are carrying dead tigers to eat. That’s not any different.”

“One’s a man and one’s a tiger!” A man with a helmet snarled. “Huge difference there!”

“But we all have souls.” The young man protested. “In the end, it’s all-”

“Enough, everyone.” Skadi said in a voice that was simultaneously calm and loud.

“The spirits that descend from Land do not have internal rifts like humans do. Where else will they obtain power, if not from the bodies of the dead? Letting them rot is a waste. Reminder, we are in a siege. If our friends from Sky do not eat the flesh of sinners, then they must eat your food. If you want them to stop, feed them yourselves.”

Skadi turned around to the monsters. “Be a little more discreet with your activities. Do keep in mind those in Land have very different values.”

The monsters murmured assent.

Skadi waved his hands dismissively. “I speak for Leera here. Let this matter be at an end.”

Scarlet’s mouth had formed into a hard line, but he still nodded stiffly. “As you say, Advisor. For Eden, I will let this go.” The woman nodded as well, although she didn’t look too happy either. Just like that, the crowd began to disperse.

Solera found Chianti standing with Verreaux and Macaw, a grimace on her face. Guinness had his eyes covered with his pudgy hands, and he was trembling. Even the unflappable Macaw looked shaken.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Solera.” Chianti said. “Land is not a pleasant place outside of the Grove.”

Solera wiped his face with his hand to regain his composure. “It wasn’t a big deal.” He muttered. This was what the real world was like. If he let this get to him, then his sanity would be gone within a year’s time. He had to be strong!

“I’ll be honest with you all.” Verreaux said in a low voice, glancing around to make sure nobody was nearby them as they went into a tunnel. “Skadi is too strange. He appeared from out of nowhere two years ago as Reginald’s advisor. I don’t trust him at all.”

“Heh.” Despite his pallid expression, Macaw managed to chuckle. “I thought it was obvious. He’s definitely a Seraph from Sky who possessed a human body.”

Chianti’s eyebrows knit together. Immediately, she checked their surroundings. “What the fuck, Macaw! You don’t just say things out loud like that where people can overhear you.”

“Hey, no biggie.” Some color was beginning to return to Macaw’s face. “I don’t have a problem with Seraphs. They’re just a step above Thrones, no big difference.”

“Are you saying that the man leading Eden’s most experienced army is not even from Eden, but is a Sky spirit?” Verreaux hissed. “There will be upheaval if people learned about this! Wait-”

Verreaux turned away, his eyes flickering in thought. After a moment, he silently led them through the tunnel system. He seemed to be working something out in his brain.

“Okay. Okay. From out of nowhere, Reginald had us go all the way back to Eden from Opportunity Kingdom.” Verreaux whispered to Chianti and Macaw when they entered an alcove.

“There were too many things fishy about that. We cut through the middle of Spirit Woods to return through the Verdant Empire! A month after we come back, three of our neighbors halt their own wars and to start one with us!” Sweat trickled down Verreaux’s face.

“If Skadi is a Seraph, then couldn’t Reginald have turned into one too? He must have been possessed by a spirit, somehow. Somebody must have been alerted, and our neighbors thus declare war on us! Chianti, Macaw, don’t you know what this means? We’re being manipulated by spirits to fight Eden’s neighbors!”

Hearing Verreaux connect the dots, Solera blanched in shock. If this was true, then the country he had pledged his allegiance to had had a change of rulers without anyone knowing! If the ruler of Eden had been possessed, then who were they fighting for?

Macaw laughed. “Nah, Reginald is still just as much of an uptight ass as he always was. You’re thinking too hard, Verreaux.”

Verreaux glared at Macaw. “The king died a year ago, allowing Reginald to become the new king. Explain that!”

“Who cares?” Macaw shrugged. “I get paid to fight, not to think. I don’t see any problems even if this is true. Actually, having a Seraph as king would allow Eden to rise to the top of the Warring Kingdoms, even if we can’t surpass the Verdant Empire or the Bloodsand Dominion. I always thought monarchies were stupid. If a new leader is better than the old one, then he should by all means be leading.”

“... Well, the fact remains that we are being besieged by the United Duchies, and the spirits are fighting with us.” Chianti said. “We can discuss this further when this war is over. Right now, let’s focus on the enemy in front of us.”

She looked at Solera, her face stone cold. “You and Guinness keep your mouths shut. Understand?”

Solera nodded dumbly. He had never seen Chianti act this authoritatively before, even when she was bringing the kids from the Grove to Fortress Hickory.

Solera returned to the room with Guinness, his mind whirling with thoughts. Chip was creating again, as if he hadn’t left the fortress at all during the battle earlier, but Solera didn’t even notice.

All his life, Solera had been raised to be loyal. His father had ventured into the Wastelands because of a mission the late king had assigned him. When Solera had left for Fortress Hickory, the Grove Tender had reiterated the importance of loyalty. In the army, Chianti had talked about teamwork, which to Solera was the same thing.

Loyalty was the value emphasized the most by Eden. Even Scarlet, with all his misgivings about spirits, had dropped his complaints when Skadi had ordered it. Yet if the country he was loyal to was now being ruled by a different man, then what did his loyalty mean? Did it even make a difference, as Macaw suggested? Or was he being manipulated?

Solera thought long and hard, but could not find any answers. The days dragged by, turning into weeks and then a month. Faced with the siege, Solera’s questions sank into the depths of his mind, until he had nearly forgotten all about them.

Every day, numerous skirmishes would break out in the area around the fortress. The aerial battles were the most visible. Whenever they occurred, the skies would rain with corpses which would later be collected by the monsters for food. On the second week, the King Eagle was killed by a regiment of Airborne who had hidden in the stratosphere for an entire night. Its broken body had been cut up and dragged back by a horde of imps.

Ground battles occurred daily, but it was mostly snipers firing at each other. It was the underground battles that were the most dangerous.

The United Duchies had their own Vigors, and would make their own tunnels. Whenever the soldiers of Eden found a tunnel being used by the United Duchies, or vice versa, a battle would break out and the tunnel would likely be collapsed, killing anyone not shielded by the Vigor. When Solera peered closely at the forests, he could see the sinkholes and collapsed trees that had been caused by the underground fighting. All too often, only two out of ten soldiers would return.

The goal was to create a tunnel to the other side’s camp and execute a short assault before retreating and collapsing the tunnel behind them. So far, this had not happened.

After a few days, it was clear that Solera was not going to be assigned any fighting roles. Skadi seemed to have lost all interest in the three children who had made it out of Fortress Hickory, so Solera had begun to experiment with the power crystal. He had realized, after some testing, that the verdant power would naturally seep into his body if he moved it through his channels. As a result, his cultivation had increased to an unprecedented rate, to the point where he was surreptitiously cutting his hair every day to avoid arousing suspicion.

Yet some people had already commented on how much his appearance had changed. Verreaux had said that he looked more like a twenty year old than a teenaged boy. Solera had just laughed it off as awkwardly as he could. Chip, true to his word, kept his mouth shut, but he continued to pester Solera. He no longer seemed cold and aloof, but rather annoying.

Reinforcements still had not arrived. The food stores were still abundant, though, from what Solera heard. Though battles occurred everyday, Solera did not participate. Being hemmed in by the United Duchies was actually quite boring. Even now, Chip was babbling to Solera.

“The requirement for immortality is merely to cultivate your body.” Chip was explaining after giving him a bottle of pills. “Only the ones rich enough or lucky enough to get the resources can become immortal. As a creator, I -”

Chip’s eyes narrowed as he peered past Solera. “Uh...”

It was at that moment the shockwave hit them.