It would be even better if Thalassar’s rampage dragged on, causing significant damage to the Order of Ember. This way, the Hightower could regain some of the influence they had lost when Golden Scale’s plan backfired.
(Recap: The Golden Scale’s plan was to let Daniel crumble under the immense weight of responsibility, thus creating chaos for him and diminishing his influence. At the time, Daniel’s name carried considerable weight as the most powerful mage and artificer, attracting many mages to his camp, which in turn weakened the Hightower’s influence.
On top of that, the Hightower had nearly exposed the existence of magic to the public themselves, forcing them to shift responsibility to Daniel. The Golden Scale believed that as a newcomer, Daniel wouldn’t be able to manage the Curtained World, but they were wrong. This miscalculation led to a significant loss of influence for the Hightower in the Curtained World.)
So, aside from reinforcing the border between the Ottoman Levant and Turkey to increase their chances of resisting the first wave of attacks before negotiations, the Hightower had done little to ensure the survival of ordinary people or minimize collateral damage.
A bounded field was established, and the magic shield was prepared. Many mages worked in secret, tirelessly engraving magic circles on the ground, one after another, to strengthen the existing shield in preparation for Thalassar’s assault.
— Ottoman Levant —
The undead army marched through the dark night as the floating ziggurat rose, following their path toward the nearest populated city. The Ottoman Levant had used the time during Thalassar’s ritual to evacuate civilians, leaving fewer people in the city—most of them opportunists seeking to enrich themselves.
These looters stole, looted, and plundered the riches of the unmanned city, reveling in their greed. They either believed that the danger would strike elsewhere first, or were too foolish to heed the government’s warnings.
In a small city not far from the ritual site, thousands of opportunistic looters celebrated, pillaging without restraint or fear.
At that moment, a black silhouette appeared on the street, marching toward them. Behind it loomed the obsidian ziggurat, floating ominously as Thalassar sat atop the black throne.
The voices of the dead grew louder with each step, the synchronized march of hundreds of thousands creating a fearsome sound as they advanced down the vast road.
"What... the hell... is that?" one of the looters murmured, halting mid-robbery to stare in the direction of the approaching noise.
One by one, the looters stopped and squinted, trying to make out what the dark shape truly was. Sensing imminent danger, one looter with sharp instincts scrambled into a car and started the engine.
Suddenly, the wight vanguard surged toward them, moving with a speed that rivaled a car. Its black blade swung down, mercilessly ending the looter’s life.
Since the Hightower had done nothing to address the situation after several hours had passed, the president believed they no longer cared about maintaining the secrecy of magic. Besides, he needed his people to be as informed as possible so they could assess the situation effectively—and maybe, just maybe, prevent unnecessary losses.
"This thing you saw, called a lich, to be exact, is Archlich Thalassar, who had been lying dormant beneath the sands, awaiting his revival. He is one of the hidden threats this world faces, and it was confirmed that his tomb, or mausoleum, was buried under the sands of the Ottoman Levant," the president explained.
"Then why didn’t you bomb his tomb before he had a chance to revive!? What the hell were you doing!?" one of the officers erupted, roaring at the president.
"No... we tried to find his tomb. For years, we never rested in our search. I even pushed for a large-scale project to survey the new oil fields, even though I knew the area I wanted them to survey had no oil.
But I was stopped by a lot of people who thought the project was part of my corruption, and I nearly lost my position." The president’s explanation caused some officers to wear complicated expressions, as they had supported efforts to bring him down.
"Then why didn’t you tell us directly that we had a monster sleeping under our feet!?" another officer demanded, trying to deflect his guilt.
"Tell you what exactly? That magic is real and that an ancient undead king is buried beneath us? That we need to push a hundred-million-dollar project to survey the area before he revives? Would you have believed me back then?" the president asked with a derisive snort.
The officers smiled wryly, knowing deep down that if the president had told them the truth, they would have thought he had lost his mind and likely sent him straight to an asylum. Ottoman Levant’s political scene was highly competitive, and some worked directly for the president’s rivals.
"What about the existence of magic? Why are you telling us now?" the general asked.
"Because the authority overseeing this situation hasn’t done anything, even after several hours have passed. Your memories haven’t been altered or erased—there’s been no attempt to conceal the existence of magic from you. That means the Hightower might not care about secrecy anymore," the president explained.
"The Hightower? Are they the organization responsible for handling things like magic and these... abnormalities?" the general inquired.
"Yes," the president nodded. "There’s a lot I need to tell you before you make any move against that Archlich. I’ll share everything I know so you won’t go in blind. But you need to understand that in the world of magic, I’m at the bottom of the hierarchy. I only have the right to know that magic exists, so I don’t know much. But I’ll do my best to help."
With that, the president began explaining to the general and the officers in the High Command what he knew about magic, its politics, the Hightower, and the latest news—including information about Daniel. He explained that Daniel was the greatest artificer, and most of his sci-fi-like technology was likely magic disguised as advanced technology.
Since the president was low in the hierarchy of magical society, he didn’t know about the Order of Ember or the fact that the Hightower was currently fighting them.