Rory was happy to take the rest of the day off. He felt he had done a lot. Improving his staff, raising his Sigils to higher Tiers, and then dealing with the Homeworlders had taken a lot out of him. Now he needed some time to rest.

The rest of the afternoon passed well enough, until, when evening was starting to fall, Trish and her group arrived with newcomers. They didn’t look good. While no one seemed overly injured, most of the newcomers were emaciated and were hardly conscious. Rory certainly had no space for greetings and welcomes. He simply helped the others into the infirmary, leaving Evelyn to take care of them.

“What happened?” he asked Trish.

She shook her head. Allen, Melvin, and Ned had all walked off to heal and rest up.

“We fought through a big horde of monsters,” Trish said. “But that wasn’t the real problem. Everyone we were rescuing had decided to lock themselves up to stay safe, without any provisions. They starved. You saw them. Nothing more than skin and bones.” She cursed. “Stick figures.”

Rory patted her shoulder. “You did well to get them all here. I’m sure you did what you could.”

Tish made a dismissive, dissatisfied sound. “A lot of them died but… ah, you’re not wrong.”

She walked off, grumbling a little to herself. Rory watched her go, wishing he could help somehow. This apocalypse exacted tolls in too many different ways.

Rory distracted himself by talking with Dez. The big guy had practiced alone with his flames in one corner of the palace grounds. He had stayed away from everyone, and Rory sensed he was beginning to feel isolated because of the negative impact of his Abyssal Inferno. Rory needed to focus on finding a solution to the poisonous effects of his flames. He’d just gotten distracted by other things in the interim.

Rory’s decision to try to find an answer to Dez’s problem the next morning seemed to be the right one. For that night, Arelland finally returned.

When they had just started getting dinner ready, another now-familiar warning shout came from the direction of the broken gate. Rory did his best to hide his groan as he got to his feet. He had thought that something happening this late at night was unlikely to be a good thing.

Fortunately for them, it was just their elf friend.

“You look… are you alright?” Rory should have stared off with a “hello” or something similar, but the elf did not look good. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk once you’ve rested and freshened up a bit.”

Rory led the elf towards the main hall, unable to sneak in some more looks. He did look terrible. Dirt marked everywhere his mech suit was splashed with what looked dried blood, along with bearing several scratches and dents he hadn’t seen to yet. There was even one section on the back that was broken open, revealing a mess of pipes and wiring.

Arelland didn’t stop when they reached the palace. “Can we find somewhere more… private?”

The elf looked around at the others. There was a certain wariness in his eyes that bordered on the verge of distrust. Rory frowned, spotting some of the former Neophytes in the area. Arelland hadn’t shown any distrust before. Something must have happened.

“You really need to tell me what’s been going on,” Rory said as they got to a somewhat secluded spot. “Are you really alright?”

Arelland leaned against the wall on the second floor. Rory had brought him to their officially designated Command Centre, according to the Zonal Configuration, but he hadn’t done much with it. The things that normally kept him busy didn’t require an overall sense of attention that a place like this room was supposed to provide.

The only others who had joined them were Viv, Dez, and Evelyn. Arelland didn’t seem to mind their presence.

“A lot has been happening beyond your walls, Rory,” the elf finally said. “This war… has been more taxing than I expected it to be.”

“We’ve seen some things,” Rory said. “But we don’t have a first-hand account of any specifics yet.”

Arelland laughed sardonically, the gears in his mask whirring to accommodate the motion of his head. Then he began telling them a summarized version of the war.

Apparently, the Otherworlders were, ultimately, stronger than their opponents. The Homeworlders had prepared, had trained, had presented themselves with some powerful Sigils with improved Tiers, but it wasn’t enough to stand against the sheer might of the experience the Otherworlders had behind them.

There had been several skirmishes since the first day of the war. Arelland didn’t tell them the overall numbers, but he did mention there had been four in Hillhard alone. Rory recalled that it was the thirteenth day of the apocalypse and the sixth since the war began. In other words, there had nearly been a day for every skirmish, except for some gaps in between.

But he forgot his calculations as Arelland’s story continued. Difficult though the first battle might have been for the Otherworlders to win, they were confident of learning from their mistakes an improving their approach to secure even greater victories henceforth.

Unfortunately, the Homeworlders had the same idea, and they coupled it with better execution.

After losing the next few battles, the Homeworlders rallied themselves furiously. Their tactics changed a lot, their use of Sigils improving drastically, almost as though the previous showings had been specifically orchestrated to lull the Otherworlders into a false expectation of inferiority. And they used that sense of complacency to devastating effect.

The Homeworlders had sprung surprise attacks on several Otherworlder positions and routed them with surprising ease, even forcing powerful regiments to retreat. Arelland’s party had been one such misfortunate band. They’d been caught in a Homeworlder trap, suffering heavy casualties even as they had retreated. Every counterattack the Otherworlders had visited upon their enemies had been foisted as though the Homeworlders were prepared for them.

They eventually found the reason why—the rebel Otherworlders.

“Wait,” Viv said, holding up her good hand. “Why is your condition like this then? The way you look, it’s as if you came straight from the battlefield.”

“Our forward bases are running low on supplies. They didn’t have what I needed to repair my suit, nor did I wish to waste time cleaning up too much since the dirt and blood will reappear before long. There was no point. So, I stand before you, filthy and dirtying your home.”

His eyes crinkled, and Rory got the sense he was smiling mirthlessly at that.

“That’s another thing we have experience with,” Rory said quietly.

“Are you running low on supplies?” Arelland asked.

“Oh no, I mean the rebels.”

“How do you mean?” Arelland’s voice grew dangerous. “Did they contact you?”

Rory explained how some of the dying Homeworlders had arrived on their doorstep. He didn’t mention specifics, of course. Rory wasn’t inclined to put any of the people he had helped in danger. Though, now that he thought about it, he wondered if Sylvia or Linus had been injured—or worse, killed—in combat against an Otherworlder.

“Wait.” Arelland stood up straight to his towering height. “You helped wounded Homeworlders? They’re alive because of you.”

Rory didn’t back down. He had expected a reaction like this, and imposing though Arelland might be, he wasn’t about to admit that he had done anything wrong.

“I did,” Rory said.

Arelland looked away. He seemed to be struggling with his words. “You realize that, if word of this reaches the Otherworlder Coalition, there are many who would immediately paint you in an unfavourable light?”

“I was, and am, aware of the risks,” Rory said. “It’s not something I regret.”

“Even if it leads to harsh consequences.”

“Even so.”

Arelland stared at Rory, and he stared back at the elf. Eventually, Arelland sighed and looked away. “For all that you are no warrior, Rory, you certainly act no less.”

“Noble of heart, you mean?”

The gears in Arelland’s mask whirred and his eyes crinkled. He was grinning. “Stubborn.”

“Can attest to that,” Viv said from behind. “But yes, we support the decision. The Homeworlders came to us for help, and if you must know, we helped out some Otherworlders who had recently gotten stuck as well.”

“What?”

Rory cleared his throat and mentioned meeting the other elf and his party, and of forming a deal with Talvic the dwarf minelord.

Arelland’s eyes widened as he finished. “You have certainly been busy, haven’t you?”

Rory laughed. “I have. But I can say the same thing about you.”

Dez cleared his throat. “So, about the rebels…”

“Yes,” Arelland said. “Tell me more about your interaction with them. What did they say and who did you meet?”

Rory expanded on his earlier, shorter story of the meeting with the rebels after the Homeworlders’ first departure. He recalled Stormvir and Guvoric, the elf and the dwarf who had threatened to tell the Otherworlders everything about him helping the Homeworlders. “I suspect they have a connection within your Coalition’s ranks.”

“I suspect it as well. The way the Homeworlders are prepared for much of what we do means the rebels are providing them with reliable information.”

“Which they can only do if they strong liaisons in your ranks,” Dez said.

“Correct.”

There was an uncomfortable silence afterwards. It was understandable. Arelland didn’t have any easy answers to what he could do about the rebels, and Rory understood a solution wasn’t easily available.

Rory decided to tell him about his plans regarding getting the Otherworlder Coalition’s approval. He was hoping to get more information regarding the different weaknesses the various races suffered on this world. Rory even pulled out the Sigil he had meant to give to Arelland and handed it over.

“It’s a Sigil of Atmospheric Control. I felt like this could give you the exact kind of control you needed for your… breathing problem.”

Arelland looked sharply at him. “Breathing problem?”

Rory pointed at his metal mask. “The reason you have your face covered is because the elves can’t process the air here properly, right? You need to reduce certain components into manageable quantities. With this Sigil, you can do that automatically instead of having to rely on masks.”

Arelland took the new Sigil with a strange look in his eye. They seemed to be glazed over and a bit lost, as though he was seeing something far away and not really taking the Sigil in.

“This is incredible,” he said eventually, his voice hushed. “I never thought I’d see something like this in my lifetime.”

“You’ve seen something like this before?” Rory asked.

“There are stories of such things existing in other worlds, where my people originated from. But it is only something available to the wealthy and the powerful.”

“I can imagine why.”

It was the same situation as Talvic had warned him about. The masks had to be made and purchased, which meant that someone was profiting off them. That profiteer wouldn’t want that demand to be jeopardized in any way.

“I have something for the dwarves too,” Rory said. “And I’m guessing they’d have to deal with something similar.”

Arelland considered him for a while. Then something seemed to click in his eyes. “Ah, you seem to be a step ahead of me. You are correct, the impact of this will have large consequences, just on you even if we cannot successfully introduce to the general public.”

“Which means it’ll have to be managed carefully,” Viv said.

“But that proves how valuable Rory can be, right?” Evelyn said. “He should be a shoo-in for your trading deal and recognition letter.”

Arelland smiled. “So, one would think. But if you consider, while there would be many who would want his powers available in an official capacity, this sort of usage will procure powerful enemies as well.”

Rory nodded. “I’m willing to take the risk.”

“As you were with the rebels?”

“Correct. The rebels you haven’t done anything about.” There was a tension in the air Rory didn’t like, so he ploughed on. “But I trust you to deal with them, somehow. What I really need help with is determining how I can make something for the giants and the kobolds. Do they have similar weaknesses I could try to help with?”

“You don’t really need to help the kobolds.”

“I don’t?”

Arelland shook his head, a sharpness infiltrating his eyes. “No. It is likely they are already in favour of the Imps and nothing you do will convince them otherwise. They already have an under-the-table deal with them, as far as I can tell, and are benefiting greatly.”

“That’s not fair,” Dez said.

They all looked at him. It took him a second to realize why, and then he flushed. Rory shook his head. He couldn’t blame the kobolds of siding with the ones they thought would help them. After all, Arelland had basically thrown his lot in with Rory.

“The giants, then,” he said. “What are they having trouble with?”

“Mana,” Arelland said.

“Mana?”

“To be specific, Mana consumption. Their larger bodies require a far greater amount of Mana than anyone else. They consume so much, we have to modify the whole chain of Mana collection and processing to satisfy their needs. If you could help with that, that would solve another major issue we are facing.”

Dez snorted. “While procuring more enemies at the same time.”

Arelland’s eyes said he was smiling too. “Correct.”

“That’s good enough,” Rory said. He didn’t particularly care for vague Otherworlder threats he couldn’t do much about, thought it would be good to head them off early on. “I can find a solution to that, I’m pretty sure.”

“You can?”

Rory nodded. “I’ll just need a Sigil of Mana Efficiency or something similar.”

He could see himself making something like that, which essentially solved their problem of getting the Otherworlder Coalition things they could really need.

“So, the Homeworlders are actually winning,” Viv said in slight wonder.

Arelland took a moment to nod. “For now. However, we have our plans in the works, and our reinforcements should turn the tide in our favour once more. Unless they have more surprises…”

“All thanks to the rebels.”

Arelland was silent for a moment, before finally sighing through the gears in his mask. “I will look into the matter. Believe me, we are investigating and trying to expose the rebels and their secret allies, but it is proving… frustrating. We shall attempt to address the issue, however.”

“Thank you,” Rory said.

Arelland nodded. Soon enough, it was time for him to leave. He warned that he would be unavailable for reliable contact but said the Otherworlder Coalition would come as a group soon. They had been thrown off their schedule by the recent turns in the war.

Rory waved the elf goodbye, feeling slightly mollified. He had a clearer path to getting the approval to get the business up and running. All he had to do was actualize it.