Mist swirled around her as Elinor proceeded through the hidden battlefield, the muffled cries of warriors filling the nighttime forest. Her emerald irises drifted between obscured scenes, watching her victims’ life force fade or be converted into a manic puppet.

The flickering aura of the spirits a dozen or so meters beyond the veil of white scattered in frantic confusion as panic set into the Ri’bot front ranks, and Elinor calmly strolled around the obvious signs of traps her many past life experiences made clear as day.

She didn’t take pleasure in this manner of combat—Irkalla wasn’t above subtly and cruel tactics in war—yet it was not her preferred method of choice when engaging her opponents.

Two styles of zombies were at her disposal: those directly under her control, and a far more deadly variant that her only constraining method was a kill switch—she’d first explored this style when in the inner mountain, confronting the insectoid army, and it was far more effective.

In a culture not steeped in the fiction of Earth’s fictional media examinations of the creatures—mixed with the shock and surprise factor of Garu’s fog—these clans didn’t stand a chance; this tactic wouldn’t win her this war, yet it was a necessary component in her early development.

A yellow-skinned Ri’bot ran out of the fog, wild-eyed and scanning for any ally turned foe in the oppressive haze; upon seeing her, he screamed and charged forward to engage.

Smoothly maneuvering around his thrusting spear at the last moment while nicking him with the edge of her own in their passing. She didn’t bother spending any more focus on the infected warrior; disengaging with a short hop before continuing her consistent drift through the chaotic battlefield.

He got halfway to her before collapsing on the ground, convulsing and gagging as the virus altered his brain, and she didn’t even leave the Ri’bot’s sight by the time he was snarling and snapping his jaws, bloodshot eyes searching for flesh to rip into.

It ran past her at a speed almost double he’d used against her, no longer concerned about reserving energy to further widdle down the ranks. Unsure what to do against the ever-growing frenzied horde of among the most feared type of Zombie in fiction, much of these two clans would be utterly devastated before she even reached their walls.

Unlike her Undead, these infectious Ri’bot were living and directly tied to her Lich abilities this Seed offered; in over ten thousand lives, this was a first for her. Yes, she had viral warfare enacted against her at times, yet this was the only time she’d used it herself.

A pack of Ri’bot broke away from the wall they’d built ahead, chased by a small wave of their sickly brethren; she gained every experience point of these kills, which was a necessity if she was going to have the needed skills for the following day.

Her gaze wandered between the littered bodies of the slain as she stepped around the bloodied forest floor, tears and panic in the eyes of the fallen, and the path she took left decayed plants and wilting trees as she sapped the area of life.

The flaming orb of Death Energy at the end of her staff only grew brighter with her slow walk, and her supernaturally enhanced vision didn’t miss the dying zombies unable to move, having what little life left in them sucked out in her passing.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the makeshift and semi-destroyed spike walls the Ri’bot had made, many of which had the infected creatures still twitching and attempting to free themselves; she drained them of life, not wishing to waste anything.

Small groups engaged her from time to time on her path, further being added to the scattering horde and, keeping track of where her zombies ran, she activated the kill switch on any that went too far.

Even the wildlife were pulled into her ravenous ranks, animals and birds assaulting the terrified clan warriors; their carcasses littered throughout the forest.

Far swifter than she anticipated, the cries and snapping grew more distant until they spread beyond her ability to see or hear; the Ri’bot’s own traps were filled with their own bodies, seemingly leading the horde to them for the pits to be filled and overflow.

The scent of death permeated the air, burning Elinor’s nose, and with a culture that rarely, if ever, used fire, there was little that could be done or even conceptualized to combat such an alien foe.

They expected the dead to assault them, not their own; and for them to turn so quickly—it truly was a tragic stratagem. A soft stream of air passed through her nose as she slowed by a small, female Ri’bot and who she assumed was her young son; she’d been infected covering him, only to gnaw on his neck, slitting his throat in the process.

Drawing the rest of her life force out to leave her withered skin and crumbling bones over the boy, she proceeded; heaven or hell, where they landed would be by their own internalized sins written into their souls, but all would rest in Irkalla.

Selectively adding Stats and Skill Points to the areas needed, she took every opportunity to exercise her chains, extending their distance, reducing their cost, and strengthening their effects on the spirit.

Her physical aptitude increased by the needed amount to make her competitive in this harsh world and, as a Supreme Goddess in corporeal form, the bindings on her divinity were breaking away, many of these feats being incorporated by the Seed.

Wandering to a hotspot where her infected were being systematically dispatched, a small smile lifted her lips upon seeing a young Ri’bot warrior of the Komath—likely less than eight years old by the vigor of his spirit—keeping his elders in a tight formation around a defensible blackthorn tree.

Elinor moved her staff behind her back, holding it against her butt on either side as she observed the struggling group of twenty warriors at the edge of their sight; a few non-combatants near the top seemed to have gotten caught up in the mix, or foolishly thought they could support their soldiers.

How typical of so many races, including humanity; the pride of believing they are prepared for the carnage of war without grasping the totality of the word… Heroes are fashioned in these conflicts, and cowards exposed… Each in his place.

“Watch the left branches! They can jump to them—we need more blackthorn barbs—Heskar, keep watch on the base; we can’t let them regroup!”

“We’ve almost destroyed this wave—”

“A light, Ye’dran!”

“Don’t let up! We saw them run in packs, and another horde could be…” the youth trailed off, yellow face turning a shade of pink as he followed the hand to her flickering staff and silently observing posture.

“The Pit Fiend…”

Elinor stepped through the veil, easily predicting the trajectory of a few barbs the panicked Ri’bot warriors sent until Ye’dran shouted, “Stop!”

She could feel his spirit trembling as if he were looking at the devil incarnate. “I said enough! Focus on—”

Her staff swung around as she neared the base of a tree, their dread centering on her; every zombie began to wilt around the base, causing the pile to collapse with the life sucked out of them.

Death Energy wasn’t her primary concern at this point, but the experience and achievements she’d gain from this venture, and she was on the lookout for heroic spirits. So, with a curious smile on her tinted green lips, Elinor waited for their response in the ensuing silence as all the infected clambering to get to the warriors became husks.

“W-Why is she…”

Almost a minute passed, the soft gust blowing around her pulling her braided hair back; Garu had done his job flawlessly, but he had his limits, and the mist would thin soon.

“What is your intention?” Ye’dran asked, an unmistakable quiver in his dry throat.

Returning her staff behind her back as she turned and walked several paces away, the relief in their sighs caught when she came to a halt, her chilling voice the only sound in the silent forest. “Will you fight or run?”

Several seconds later, Ye’dran dropped to the ground, knife shaking in his hand when she altered her position to study him.

“I do not believe we would stand a chance if we all attacked you at once, Pit Fiend… If I offer myself, will you allow the others to escape your carnage and… madness.”

“Mmh… If they wish to live, instruct them to go to the humans and follow the instructions I gave, but I will not stop the hordes from chasing them; I suggest they try to limit their sound and keep to the canopy.”

He hesitantly gave her a respectful bow she’d seen from the other Ri’bot, showing himself honorable. “Thank you… for the advice.”

Ye’dran jumped into the trees to deliver her message as Elinor casted her vision to various directions to track other groups of infected that were being held off; four prominent ones caught her attention.

After a short explanation to the older warriors, Ye’dran sent them off before landing on the blood-soaked grass to kneel. “I am ready…”

“Mmh. So you are… Come with me.”

Making her way to the next cluster, the young warrior shivered while falling into line and dropping his weapons; Elinor didn’t care if he’d kept them, but it showed he had accepted his fate.

Ten minutes passed, and eight zombies lunged out of the fog on their journey, yet they didn’t get five meters from Ye’dran before collapsing to the dirt.

“Why… are you protecting me?”

“I have my reasons.”

He observed, hugging himself in fright as she moved to each of the notable locations; identifying the heroes keeping rank and directing the panicking forces. Elinor brutally broke through desperate defenses, locking their more skilled warriors in chains to helplessly watch the waves climb the trees to overwhelm their comrades, left without leadership.

Allowing the new horde to go their own instinctual direction if it wasn’t toward Ye’dran, it was at the last camp that the warrior spoke again.

“P-Please… will you spare them?”

Elinor gave him a slight smile as her new skill blocked their desperate projectiles—Death’s Wall—flashes of green sparked at her back, momentarily illuminating the force field; it would evolve to Irkalla’s First Gate when this was said and done.

“Did I not give your clans proper warning?” she asked, glancing at the zombies as they gained ground; it was a cycle, their snapping jaws and growls drawing more and more into the flood from other areas. “How many warnings should I give before an example needs to be made, and did I not provide a means for mercy already?”

“You have… but we were not expecting… How could we have expected this?”

“Hmm-hmm. Is it my fault you were unwilling to bow before a Supreme Goddess? You pointed your blade at me, and I am supposed to treat you as children?”

“I don’t know what you expected of us!”

“What did I expect? Humph. Existence has seen fit to grant you the gift of Intelligence, yet you failed to use it. Cause and Effect is not bound to the whims of mercy, and still, I offered relief for those you loved, should you have heeded my warning.”

She looked up at the Ri’bot as chains locked their warriors in place for the zombies to overtake them. “I am merciful… but not a fool or to be taken as such.”

Her shimmering, emerald irises turned to him as he fell to his knees, the wave behind her becoming dust and bone in her ever-evolving Life Leech Aura. “Do you still think me a Pit Fiend?”

Blood leaking down his ripped lips, self-inflicted by seeing his people turn on each other, he cried, “I don’t know… I don’t know what you are… The Supreme Chiefs don’t come to our aid… as if they fear your powers. We scream for help, yet all we see is our own turn against us as if possessed.”

Elinor walked forward to place a hand on his shoulder, making the boy flinch. “I empathize with your position… I do. Yet, I gave you every opportunity to prevent this slaughter. Take me to where the humans are… the dead, not the living.”

A confused look crossed Ye’dran’s face before realization came. “The dead…”

His fear was palpable, but he still rose, stumbling to the east; Elinor knew why he would be terrified to see what he knew awaited them.

On their path, they passed a few lingering survivors who had managed to kill the hordes chasing them through utilizing the trees and the zombie’s mindless nature, and she had them join her infected host to find any others that lingered.

By the second hour of her assault, most of her zombies had either been killed by her when they went too far, the ghosts she sent to guard the survivors, or the elite warriors near the humans, leaving a somber, deathly stillness in the partially veiling forest.

Elinor glanced at the heavens as she felt the first splash of rain; a light shower would be passing them, but she pressed on to the graveyard the Roxim had created—a place of butchury to demonstrate to their warriors how to kill a human—Ye’dran couldn’t look at the scene when they came to a halt.

Most were women, teens, or little girls, which would have turned any human’s stomach, drawing on images from the holocaust—perhaps worse—considering the dismemberment and living torture in their name of learning how they would respond to pain.

“Haaa…”

A flurry of flaming butterflies exited her staff to illuminate the dark space, making Ye’dran shift nervously; yet, after a minute of silent examination, she allowed the Death Energy to fizzle out, contacting Sari’aél, who hovered nearby.

As I feared… Something has carried away a certain number of spirits before they could enter my gates; still, there are several more humans with Seeds in the mix that can be used. What is happening inside the River of the Dead that is destroying their spirits? she whispered.

Glaring up at the heavens, her daughter and son came to mind. Nungal and Namtar will have much to report when we meet.

“How unfortunate, Empress. Including the Ri’bot?”

Yes. I need answers, which means I need to revive Ishtar… Retrieve these human bodies and do with them as I previously instructed.

“Understood, Empress.”

“Is… there anything I can do to make up for what we’ve done?” Ye’dran mumbled, unable to look at the horrors the Roxim had done.

“Do not hold sins that are not your own,” she advised, feeling her Seraph closing in on the location. “Hmm… It’s time I faced the ones responsible.”

Leaving the area, she moved north to meet the two chiefs and their greatest warriors.

Light rainfall slickened her hair and face, yet most of her body was well protected by Violet’s silk-based garments, and after another twenty minutes, she caught sight of the small brigade of warriors that hovered near the glowing ectoplasmic lines that had been drawn to show the area of protection.

Hundreds of dead Ri’bot were littered around it, many more piles elsewhere as Zargoth and Krava issued orders; all of that came to an abrupt stop when she stepped through the soft mist, falling from the heavens.

“You!” Krava spat, his warriors instantly throwing barbs or knives her way, only to be deflected by her barrier. “You’ve killed… thousands of our people—the Pits are…”

“Are what?” Elinor calmly replied, allowing herself to be surrounded by the thirty or so warriors in the area, the Ri’bot backing themselves to the edge of the ring.

A frown touched her lips as she saw several human girls with blades at their throats—Tegrim had killed any zombie that attempted to attack them—a desperate tactic to remain outside of her protective circle.

Lacerations on their bodies, half delirious with fever, and malnourished to the point of seeing many ribs, they couldn’t struggle or cry out if they wanted to; it was bad enough that they were trying to catch rainwater with their open mouths.

The elderly Ri’bot walked forward, glaring at Ye’dran. “You—you would take her side… to save your own skin?”

He didn’t respond, head lowered to the ground, and Elinor was about done with the false sense of honor these supposed heroes and chiefs had; Roxim had lately shown itself to be an utter sham of what they claimed to be, and for all the talk she’d heard of Krava being this great Fire Wars hero, she couldn’t see it beyond the hubris.

Chief Zargoth held up his hands for his warriors to stop, unable to damage her by their ranged assault, and Elinor noticed as a female Ri’bot stepped out from beside the others—she recognized her ax.. “Hold! Elinor, will you face our warriors honorably… or fight as a Pit Fiend until the end?” the Chief proclaimed.

“I will face her!” the ax-wielding woman roared, nose twitching with fury. “She has taken everything from us… taken my father! I will avenge him and all of our corrupted comrades!”

“Careful, Hestine,” Krava growled. “A single cut will be your end, and if you get near her, she will drain your life by years.”

Fingers tightening around her staff, Elinor didn’t give Hestine a moment of her time, vision centered on Zargoth and his warriors, blades still to the humans’ throats; by the dead inside the ring, she assumed several Ri’bot reflected their Chief’s proposal to use hostages—meeting an untimely death.

Foolish leaders and the sheep that follow them… Only a few competent individuals in two clans could see the writing on the wall. Existence’s gift of Intelligence… squandered to such a degree, is truly a tragedy.

“Haaa…”

Ye’dran and several others flinched as she slammed her spear into the ground, making Hestine and three other Xaria around Krava shout and blur into motion to meet her, Krava and Zargoth joining them.

“Monster!”

“I will avenge my—”

“For the Supreme—”

“My father will look down—”

Taking a step forward, lips parting, and tone as cold steel, Elinor’s fingers closed into a fist; a hundred chains ripped through space to cut off and ensnare all thirty screaming warriors, suppressing all noise but the soft patter of rain and her frigid words.

“I gave very clear and simple instructions, Chief Krava, Chief Zargoth… Yet, you blatantly disregarded them.”

Pulling a knife from the nearest Xaria’s belt, Elinor placed the wet metal against her throat, the woman’s fear radiating out of her spirit as she slicked the steel with its owner’s blood, dropping it to the mud while moving to the next to do the same.

“I gave very clear orders—and need I remind you that the death of others is not something I fear is… telling as to your impotence and overinflated egos.”

She came to a stop in front of Hestine, looking deep into her soul and causing an internal tremor in the vulnerable little girl trapped within. “Why would I give more than a minute of my precious time to those that believe themselves above their own gods?”

Elinor used five more chains to bend back Hestine’s spiritual fingers until they snapped, feeling every painful centimeter of her spiritual appendage being amputated and made useless before snatching the ax out of the air as it fell.

“In the heart of your souls, you think yourselves strong enough to overcome the Divine and Infernal without the assistance of something on that level… The hubris is not amusing… I am insulted by the cowardly pride you hide behind.”

She sank the weapon into her gut, leaving it in place for the woman to bleed out, and moving onto the next Xaria as she methodically worked her way to the Chiefs; a few of the Ri’bot women and children within the circle drew closer, still hidden but listening to her one-sided speech.

“There is a popular saying among the Divine… Do not cast pearls before swine, and despite my better judgment to those who would treat my wisdom as less than waste, I give you a chance—a warning for what condemnation awaits you in Irkalla… And time and time again, I am disrespected for all my effort in laying out a path to redemption, yet… still I persist at it.”

One after another, she made mortal wounds against the last resistance of the Roxim and Komath; her words touched the ears of many Ri’bot women and children in the circle, continuing to cycle forward in the light downpour.

“Many of your kind have seen the ordered future I bring… The peace and prosperity that can be had if only you obeyed my laws… simple and freeing laws. Instead, to those that wish to make peace, Krava… you put a blade through their chest because they challenge your leadership.”

Sinking a blade through the twenty-eighth elite warrior’s throat to stop in front of the internally gnashing spirit of the Komath Chief, Elinor glared at the spiteful man, seeing beyond the scope of his outward platitudes to the vile fiend within, which he tried to hide with his station and achievements.

“You think yourself worthy of being equal with your gods for your supposed achievements in the Fire Wars… That you will ascend to the glory of a Supreme Chief, and I am the crowning jewel of your rise into the eternities… The arrogance.”

Not recalling her weapon, Elinor walked a few paces away, turning her back to the enraged Chief to stare up at the weeping nighttime sky. “I will tell you, there are such beings as the Supreme Chiefs; I do believe there were many great Ri’bot in your Existence that produced valiant spirits I would have enjoyed the company of…”

She released his chains for him to charge at her, flipping his blade around expertly in his age while spitting thorns at her back, a snarl in his throat; her barrier deflected the thorns and, allowing him past her shell, Elinor pivoted his lunge to guide his steel into the aged Xaria’s own chest without much effort.

Now staring into his wide eyes, strength leaving him as he grasped at her shirt front, fear only now blooming in his spirit, Elinor leered at the fool.

“You will see nothing but a reflection of your own conceited nature and fragility for all eternity if you enter my gates, Krava—you will never be my equal in any Existence… Heh, but at least you will escape the fate of a fractured Intelligence that comes from wandering the River of the Dead for all time… Lost to insanity and to be tormented in the Creeping Shadows. You will not be remembered.”

Pulling her blade, she allowed the other twenty-nine warriors to collapse into the bloodied mud to twitch or die slowly, leaving only one opponent in the thousands that had been the Komath and Roxim Clans.

The humans fell to the earth, no longer held by their oppressors, and Elinor gave Chief Zargoth a pointed look as he stumbled to drop to his knees, unable to process what he’d just been forced to witness.

“You don’t see yourself as a god like Krava, Zargoth… For you, it was simply the fact you would have to bow to me. You would put your own ego as a Chief above even the lives of your own people you swore to protect. What do you suppose awaits you after this life?”

“Why…” Bending over to claw at the mud before slamming his fist into it, he shouted again. “Why did it come to this?! The Supreme Chiefs abandoned us—you’re saying they exist in the heavens—then why have they not come to our aid?!”

In the ensuing silence, she could see many Ri’bot within the circle looking at one another, questioning the same thing; the humans were so sick or delirious, they didn’t know what was happening.

Her footsteps caused many to shrink back as she stood over the crying and lamenting Chief after losing everything. “Have you ever stopped to consider they have all died… or are too frightened to act when true Supreme Deities walk your planet, and why would they wish to come between us when you started this conflict and refused to reconcile?”

Hand rising to her side, The Staff of the Dead teleported into her grip. “Take solace in knowing I will treat those of your clan that remain well… if they follow my instructions and rules.”

Ego and pride broken after losing all control, Zargoth died a pathetic death, having no faith in his gods after her plague had devastated any semblance of normality and warfare; her spear penetrated his chest.

Liquid dripping down her face, Elinor yanked the weapon out of the dead Chief’s chest; she’d obtained everything she wanted from this venture. It was time to move on to stage two.

Sari’aél.

“Finished, Empress? I have buried the bodies in the designated location you have instructed.”

Excellent. Fly these humans back to Nethermore and see my maids attend to their needs.

“I will need to take multiple trips, so I will prioritize the direst cases. Will you be joining us?”

When I am finished inspecting the next battlefield; there are still things I need to accomplish.

“I will see it done.”

Elinor turned her neutral stare to Ye’dran as he looked around at his fallen heroes, still in shock at how easily they’d been killed and her declaration. “Will you follow my orders?”

“Y-Yes… What should I call you?” he stammered, forcing himself to his feet.

“Empress Irkalla. You will hang the Chiefs and their warriors from the tree branches to be seen by the Great Chiefs when they come to inspect the carnage… Make them obvious.”

“I… will do it at once, Empress Irkalla…”

As he was about to run to get ropes, she added, “And Ye’dran…”

“Yes?”

“You will be the new Chief representative of those that remain; learn quickly from the other Chiefs when you return. Now, get to work; it is your duty to set an example for your people.”

A little stunned by the new office and responsibility, he gave her a salute. “Thank you for your mercy, Empress Irkalla.”

Tears came to his eyes as he saw the craftsmen and warriors he’d sacrificed himself to save within the circle, awe coming to many as Sari’aél’s radiant aura descended upon them. “Thank you… so much!”

Leaving him to accomplish his task, Elinor made her way through the damp forest, deep in thought at what she’d discovered.

Something either swept a few souls in the River of the Dead away before they could arrive at Irkalla… Mmh, possibly blown into another Deity’s afterlife, yet no… If that were the case, it would have then been a tug-of-war to fight for it to be pulled back into the mortal sphere. I didn’t experience that.

Some are unrecoverable, meaning their spiritual ties have been corrupted beyond recognition, severed, or… eviscerated. My subjects are putting up a valiant fight, it would seem, if I am still capable of recalling these spirits, but it is not one-sided, and it appears my gates are not always open, as they should be… Who is this enemy Apollo sees as our opposition? If only I could speak to him now, yet he made it clear that would not be an option.

Arriving at the wide river before a hilly plain that led to the steep cliffs into her valley, Elinor’s eyes narrowed, seeing what she would face in tomorrow’s conflict; when morning came, she would need to return to the battleground behind her to meet the two Great Chiefs, and that would be the mark of the true conflict.

Forcing the heavens open is my only solution. I will have my answers… one way or another, and Ishtar will bridge that divide.

Signaling her Seraph as she continued to make her grounds, Elinor returned to the city for the next step in her plan; her daughter or son would heed her call, and, if need be, she would chain Ishtar’s musical twins to her service.