Book 8: Chapter 74: DR

Book 8: Chapter 74: DR

It was a silly thing, but she preferred being called Dioname. Her full name was Dionamella, but she wanted the last three letters left off.

Dee-oh-nah-mei. That was how youd say it. As opposed to dee-oh-nah-mell-ah.

Did this matter?No. Not at all.

But it made her feel rather in-tune with the modern parlances of the day. A bit like she was keeping up with the times. That was important. For the Great General of the Ages had mastered time to an extent that few had ever reached, in this era or any other.

However, she could still not prevent her own end.

She was not immortal.

The half-Elf felt it in her bones. Her death, her likely death, would not be by sword or spell. It might be, but what would always catch her wastime.

Her age fueled her power. A sacrifice, and one she willingly made. Everything had a price, and the ability to move an army faster than they shouldnot just physically, but stealing seconds away from the world?

That it only demanded her timeand a half-Elfs time at thatwas not just unfair, but cheating. She raised a hand on the first day and spoke.

Advance, soldiers of Ailendamus. Show this Dawn Concordat why we bear Ailendamus will.

Even her voice and inflection were old. Hence her wanting a different name. The modern [Generals], she had learned once Rhisveri summoned her, were very quick. She had studied Niers Astoragon, who had not existed when she had made her name.

Forwards the left! [Snipe Charge]

And so on. Efficient, but not very graceful. She wondered if it would change how Skills developed. Skills, classes reflected the modern world. Why, there was a time when Skills were nigh on paragraphs of words.

She watched as Ailendamus [Soldiers] met the Dawn Concordat. And she twisted the world, just a second. But one second

For a thousand soldiers.

The front rank of Ailendamus charging swords was poised to meet a line of spears. A bad matchupthe spears would hit first, even as the experienced swordbearers angled their blades for a quick thrust to the helm. Of course, individual skill and lives

Each one of those [Soldiers] had their hopes and dreams. They had names she might never learn.

Dioname could not account for that. However, she could give them one thing. Justone second.

One second, in the heat of battle, to charge another step. To swing. The entire wave of soldiers blurred, and one second?

It only took that long to bury a blade in a throat. To dodge an incoming jab. To erase hundreds of lives.

One second across one thousand souls.

1000 seconds, then. Spent. She felt it, a change in herself. Not immediate aging, but a loss.

1000 seconds equated to 16 minutes and 40 seconds. Not bad. Or it would have been, if that were all she spent.

Even a Human would have considered that a fine expenditure of time to do that kind of damage.

If it were only seventeen minutes. Alas, Dioname could not trade time that equally. But she counted.

It was an obsession. Few people could know the time they spent. So as she gave orders, the tally still added to itself.

Archers, fire once and again, there and there!

Three hundred and twenty archers needed four seconds to speed up their volley. Add into it a [Relentless Reloading] Skill and an [Instantaneous Reload] among her officers.

Three volleys of arrows in quick succession.

320 multiplied 4 times is 1280 seconds. 21 minutes, 20 seconds.

It might be a year. She suspected less, but it was weeks or months, not minutes. How long did half-Elves live? She was barely over a centurybut her biological age, the true chronological time she had paid for, was well over a thousand years.

However, the Great General of Ages still fought. She could have not. She could have refused Rhisveri when he asked her to make an example of the Dawn Concordatand perhaps even the Wyrm of Ailendamus would have acceded for the deeds she had done, the wars she had paid for.

Yes, she, a mortal, knew the secret of Ailendamus. She knew them all, and if there was any one mortal the immortals respectedperhaps it was her.

Perhaps, because she wasnt sure. However, it was true that Rhisveri had personally taught her the magic she used. That Visophecin, Fithea, had given her their knowledge, the Agelum taught her self-defense.

They were still greater. A Wyrm in his full fury or Visophecin, first among House Shoel? They could slay her. Howevershe was not a single being. She had Skills. And she was a [General].

Alone, she might well be the third-most powerful being in Ailendamus behind those two. With an army at her backonly Rhisveri. And even the two of them would not guess on that outcome.

When the Dawn Concordat came against her, then. When the Archmage of Memory, this new lad, and House Veltras, the Griffin Prince, and Lightherald joined forceswell. The half-Elf was put-upon. Dioname felt that so many boys teaming up to kill her was slightly biased.

But Rhisveri sent her no backup. The Wyrm had faith in one mortal alone. That was his Great General, whom he had created.

Dioname, [Timekeeper General, Wyrmsworn Champion].

There was a time when classes used to have commas.

On the first day, she took the scope of her enemies. The Archmage of Memory descended from the heavens with magic and thunder, like some kind of storied [Archmage] of old. He had bested the young Lucifen, and the immortals of Ailendamus feared to fight him directly, lest he reveal all.

Lord Veltras and the Five Families galloped into the fray, banners shining, and an ancient Golem rained death down as the banner of House Veltras shone. A [Lord] who flew like an arrow, straight and true, the fastest man on the battlefield atop his steed, lance in hand.

Then came the Lightherald, shining, proclaiming the glories of Calanfer as he led the Dawn Concordat against Ailendamus, nearly equal in numberand in his aegis of light, fearless and resolute to their end.

Lastly, the Griffin Prince, the cursed child who darted into certain death, sacrificing body and limb without fear, woven and constantly remade by the Stitch Witchs curse.

Dioname looked at them all and thoughtnow there would be a true foe.

The Stitch Witch, the immortal spider whom even Rhisveri could not match for age, or Fithea. Though the Dryad had met her when the Stitch Witch walked her forests.

She would be a foe to which Dioname would ask every aid, use every Skill, and struggle with. A foe to count your levels againstyet fight because the victor would be the stronger in level. To kill Belavierr forever would be a battle Dioname was not certain she could win.

These fourlike Rabbiteater, she counted four threats

These four were not fully her match.

Oh, they each had something. She watched Tyrion Veltras dodge her first greeting, the spell missing him with contemptible ease. His own aura meant that she could not slow him directlyjust speed up the rest of the world. Perhaps if they were close enough to hear each others voices spoken, she could influence him.

He was too quick. He slew an officer, riding through the battle, lance ramming home through a breastplate before she could reposition.

A seasoned warrior. The Griffin Prince was truly immortal; she tried to sever the Stitch Witchs bindings, but again, could not unless she was up close. She was no expert in whatever curse or hex had been woven; her time-sped soldiers impaled his companions, and he fled, but survived even [Disintegration].

The Lightheralds armor took her spells too, and the brave champion of Calanfer was better than the Thronebearers who fell to their counterparts in her army. Dioname would have tackled any threat alone in that first hour, but together, all three were thorns. But yesthorns she could pluck and crush in the first battle.

Save for himshe looked up and saw a half-Elf with burning wings pointing down at her. Dioname threw up her hands.

[Spell-Aegis of the Wyrm Queen]!

[Pillar of Flame, Unbounded].

Her spell covered her position, and the searing blast of fire did not consume her flesh. The Great Generals return spell and her archers arrows criss-crossed the skies, and the Archmage of Memory retreated, cursing as his barrier-spells waned.

However, he was being linked to every [Mage] in his faction, hundreds. Worse? Far worse?

She could not stop all his spells.

Ailendamus [Soldiers] looked up in confusion and saw the pillar of light for just a second before it fell and turned all to ash. Dioname looked up. When she saw the magic coalescing, before the spear of ice split the earth and shook the world, she threw a hand out.

Tarry not! Flee or die, and feet take wing!

Ancient orders and wordingor at least, a hundred years oldbut the [Soldiers] understood. They ran, and the spell, which took three seconds to unleash itself, missed them completely.

Four hundred souls given thirty-one seconds. 12,400 seconds.

Too many minutes. Too much time, but time stopped for them to move. She could have let them die, but they fell upon the Dawn Concordat, shouting her name. Dioname looked up and saw her false kins look of unease. She twitched a finger at him, beckoning him downwards.

He took the bait, and the Archmage of Memory descended. He had a sword-spell of Drath, [Disintegration] spells aiming for her heart, and a type of magic that mixed with alchemy, trying to ensnare her very nature.

She wondered if hed earned his strength. Dioname faced him down and sensed no Skills. So perhaps he was like Rhisveris kind. In which case, he was arrogant. They always were.

[ ]!

Time slowed for Dioname, the most economical use of it. His magic was blazing so bright, she couldnt slow himbut so what? The Archmages eyes went round as she cast two spellsand used a Skill befitting her level.

[Thorns of the World Tree: Bneiisrye].

She called upon a dead name that Fithea had bequeathed to her. Yet even in deaththe greatest magic of druids and Dryads shattered his barriers. Still, he swung the sword, and she reached out.

[Summon Armament: Lawkeeper of the Agelum].

Both of them suffered for that. She felt the crawl of pure lightning eating away at her. He recoiled from a searing radiance that even the Lightherald winced to behold. He backed up as she pointed a finger at him.

[Vortex Into Nowhere].

She missed. The Archmage of Memory retreated and did not try that again.

By the end of the first day, Dioname understood her foes, and not even the Archmage of Memory was her equal.

That did not mean she underestimated them. She just saw them for who they were:

Incomplete.

All four. But the two most dangerous, Tyrion Veltras and Eldavin, realized the same thing as they fought.

Tyrion Veltras looked at Dioname, the Great General of Ages, and realized he was facing a foe far above him in levels. A [Lord] who realized that the bar was higher, that he was not fast enough. Chasing, racing to improve. Faster.

Cursing his wasted time spent in complacency.

To Eldavin, the issue was far different. He had dodged Dionames magic and outmaneuvered the other fliers and attacks coming his way because he flew. Even the Griffin Riders of Kaliv were like stones falling through the air compared to his grace. Aspects of Eldavin were so refined that Dioname was convinced he had walked more battlefields than she could dream of.

Peerless flightcombined with a strange lack of understanding in other areas. Gaps in his knowledge of how to conduct a war.

To anyone else, it wasnt obvious, but Dioname saw his uncertainty when facing someone like her. He didnt knowhow to beat her. How to use his magic most effectively. So his battle tactics? To anyone watching, and people did see it, beyond even her

He was copying the Death of Magic. Extreme range, summoned warriors, and massive, contemptuous area-of-attack spells. He fought like Silvenia, another great foe Dioname knew might one day be hers

Because he didnt know how to fight himself.

Incomplete, incomplete! She might not have more high-level magics than Eldavin, and she certainly didnt have Tyrions speed, but Dioname did have the surety they lacked. Still, she failed to end the battle on the first day. The Great General of Ages tried, but both sides surprised each other, taking a measure.

And shewas slightly distracted. And did not know why. The Great General of the Ages turned her head left and right, looked up the pass, at the Archmage in the sky, back towards Kaliv where the Griffin Prince harried them, past the fortress under siegearound, towards Calanfer.

Dioname frowned uneasily.

On the second day, she realized there was something else. The others were more cautious now, trying to save the Dawn Concordat as they bled lives.

The Lightherald rallied them. Dioname focused her wrath upon him, but his armor took spells meant to kill him. He battled against her champions, and all three, Griffin Prince, Tyrion, and Eldavin, took up the mantle of protecting him.

And someone else.

Dionamella, report.

Only one person would bother her, even during the lull in fighting. Rhisveri. Dioname responded as she signaled her forces. She would happily have ignored him if need be, but she needed to communicate this.

Rhisveri. Complications. Iam sensing something off. Two matters, but one is distant. Do you feel either?

No.

His voice was terse. She wondered if that girl, the Wind Runner, was giving him trouble. The Wyrm did not like to be fallible, so he snapped.

What are the two things? Why are youoff?

He was quite familiar with how adept she was, and Dioname had lost some of her edge. Thatshe understood. If he didnt sense the other thingthe half-Elf bared her teeth.

Two guesses. Your hint? Scrying and this television.

She heard nothing for a while, then he began cursing.

Theyre using Skills on you? Who? Ill kill them all! Cancel all the scrying spells!

She interrupted him.

It wont work. They can still scry me from afar, even if you turn off Wistrams orbs. And now they know howover a hundred are trying to debilitate me or the army in some way.

A hundred?

Its worldwide. Ill manage.

The problem with technology was that it changed how even wars were fought. The King of Destruction, among others, had shown every [King], [Commander], and Skill-user that you could, with great effort, toss your Skill across the world and change the course of a battle. Of course, it was exceptionally difficult, and only the highest-levelled people could do itor someone with a genuine connection to this battlefield or who was close enough.

She suspected Avel, Desonis, even Nadel, Pheislantthose were definitely nations who wanted her to lose. But perhaps even Chandrarians, Balerosians, Izrilians, and more considered that it would be best if Ailendamus lost this pivotal battle.

Over a hundred? Oh yes. But they had one huge problem: her aura. Their Skills against her or on her were far reduced by her own presence.

Stillit kept the Dawn Concordat in the battle the second day. As for the other thing, which even Rhisveri didnt sense?

Perhaps it was her class. He had no class. In some ways, Dioname was stronger than Rhisveri simply because of her levels. She had risen close to his power in her short time alive.

Was that fair? Of course not. When they had first met, the Wyrm had told her he was going to be extremely unfair. If nothing elsethis entire road and her life she had chosen? Dioname had known from the start what it would be. Rhisveri was honest about that.

You are worthless.

The Wyrm was, at that time, a half-Elf. He hated looking like that, and so in thirty years he would change his assumed form and begin pretending to be the [King]s brother or other family member. He also preferred to appear older, at least middle-aged.

At the time, she had naively thought it meant he would hate her more. But the cold disdain of the man had swept over all the children he had gathered.

Over a hundred years ago, Rhisveri had addressed a group of children like this.

You are all worthless. The children no one wants. You have no future. Each nation and city and town has no place for you. [Beggars] and [Outcasts] and [Street Urchins].

A strange project. He had gathered them all up and placed them in this room. The half-Elf looked at the terrified half-Elf girl, as wary of him as some of the others around her. A few children were contemplating his death or looking for things to steal.

Effortlessly, he stopped a [Rogue] in mid-escape. Let the dangling child hang there in the air as he continued.

I am giving you one chance, you worthless lot. Make something of yourselves. You will have the finest education and training; squander it and I will let you go and waste the only opportunity you have. Serve me and I will reward that. This is more than you deserve. You are worth nothing, but you have one chance.

He looked at Dioname, passing over her and all the others. What caught her, what she saw, even back then, was the slightest catch in Rhisveris voice. The way he looked back at them as he spoke.

I was like you. Rise or fall. There is never any other option.

Over a hundred years ago, she had begun her studies. True to his word, hed let the children make of themselves what they wanted. Some had taken jobs as artisans; some had run off, and she never knew what became of them.

Some, like her, rose.

At first, the Wyrm left it all to teachers. Even later, when there were only a handful of the best, he didnt reveal to them who he was.

Only two ever learned his identity, and Dioname was the one he taught time magic. She remembered the first time he realized she had surpassed everyone but himand later the Lucifenthe look of exasperated pride hed tried to cover.

It seems you are the best. One gem among all the others. Which means I have to teach you. Very well. Time magic. Youre already familiar with it? Its tricky, even for me. Time is so difficult to harness that the only way that [Mages] have found is to use tricks to use it effectively. Sacrifice and oaths. Lets begin with the basics. I need you around, so one of the Oaths of Time will do

She had learned to sacrifice her own time later. He had not stopped her and even helped her refine that aspect.

Later onit would lead to one of the most famous events in Ailendamus two-century history. Which was the destruction of the old palace.

This was all old history, when the Lucifen and Agelum had sought Rhisveri out to make a pact. One of the many clauses in their deal was something both families stood for, albeit for different reasons. One, moral, ethicalthe other more practical.

No child soldiers. Rhisveri, the Wyrm, had agreed to it and neglected, in his arrogant way, to mention the existence of Dionamella and the others. The Wyrm had tried to argue his way out when Visophecin found outit was already in progress, they were already children, and you only specified

Well, that was what happened to the first palace. It had only ended when Dioname herself got involved on Rhisveris side.

Ever after, Rhisveri was more cautious of the Lucifen and his allies. Yet even when they asked and offered her a way out, Dioname continued. She sacrificed her time and won the respect of Ailendamus immortals, and they wondered why.

Why, for them? Why?

Because Rhisveri gave her what she wanted. For loyalty, for pride, and because he was right. She had always believed that, from the start.

Rise or fall. Rise or fall. You had only one chance. She wanted to see how high she could go.

By the third day, Dioname knew the true danger, and it was this: winning was something you needed to know how to do.

Winning was an art. Especially because it was so easy to fail at.

She had the upper hand, so the Great General of the Ages realized that the danger would come when she was most overconfident. She could not lose focus. She had seen it before; it was when the opponents back was against the wall, when they were on the ropes, that they counter-levelled. In the moment before your sword struck them, they could turn that tide around. The overdog had to watch out for the underdog because they always leapt.

With another army, Eldavin might have won or stalemated her. He was a devious foe, and his mana supply exceeded hers! Howeverthe Dawn Concordat were taking too many losses. Lose the army and they lost.

Lose Tyrion, Eldavin, the Lightherald, or the Griffin Prince and they lost.

Take the [Princesses]? Dioname was now exploring other options, but the battle was quite literally revolving around a single moment. And not for her to lose.

Tyrion Veltras rode out of the fog of acid, burning, skin searing. Another second and he was dead. The Lightheralds shield barely caught the ray that would have disintegrated his face through the visor, a needle.

They were dancing on life-and-death. The Skills from afar trying to harry Dioname were actually growing stronger. Peoplewere getting worried.

Even the Blighted Kingdom. Probably because they looked at Dioname, and then looked at one of their greatest [Mages]. Nereshal, another [Chronomancer]. Nereshal, greatest in his continentat least in the Blighted Kingdomcould slow, perhaps even reverse times effects upon himself, the Blighted King, and a handful of others.

By his power and magic and talent, and with time stolen from others, he could arrest age itself. That was how he could manipulate time.

Dioname? She could make time dance and roll over.

Even so, they nearly killed her on the third day.

House Veltras went for her. They had danced around the periphery of the battlefield before, refusing to be caught and surrounded, but Lord Tyrion Veltras must have seen that the Great General of Ages was the most pivotal element in Ailendamus army.

More than any other [General]if she died, Ailendamus lost. So he went for her.

The first sign of it was the Aegis of the Bow, the Golem of Terland, turning and unleashing a hurricane of fury onto the command center of Ailendamus army. The Golem was well-protected; the Archmage of Memory had personally warded it to prevent Dioname from destroying it.

The deadly arrows raining down did less than Tyrion wanted. Sturdy shields and barrier Skills mitigated the damagethe arrows slowed, and some just plinked onto the ground. One struck someone on the head as he passed by, galloping with his vanguard, and he heard the voice.

Ow.

It was a helmetless head. Tyrion turned backjust onceand saw someone rubbing at a cut. How?

The arrows which flickered through the air with a longbows force suddenly dropped like stones. Yet even if you froze them in time, they kept their momentum.

Ah, but what if you froze the air around them in time? Then the volley of arrows lost all momentum, dropped to the ground with no force. A [Time Mage]s tricks on a battlefield scale.

Who is she?

Pellmia, the [Lord of Love and Wine], breathed. His armor was scorched, and Tyrion had lost more people in these three days of fighting than the rest of the entire war. Tyrion surged across the battlefield, cutting left.

Griffin Prince and Archmage are diving.

They went for one of the lesser [Generals]. Just as planned, as Tyrion cut towards another one. The Great General reacted, guarding her commanders.

It was a good feint. Tyrion saw Jericha baring her teeth and checked his group.

He rode with Swey and Pellmia; Buscrei was climbing with her [Archers] to a position on the cliffs. Literally; the Archmage of Memory had provided invisible [Light Bridges], and they were relying on stealth Skills to avoid magical detection.

The other [Lords] and [Ladies] didnt have applicable Skills for this encounter. Andwell, Tyrion glanced sideways. In the decoy-force, one of Els [Ladies] was leading her [Mercenaries], who would benefit from her Skills. Tyrion made a split-second decision as he saw Ailendamus rotating to face him.

Time again. They were set and ready even as he galloped at a speed beyond any regular [Lancer]. Tyrion looked right and spoke.

Pellmia. Lead the distraction force.

What? Im bound with you, Tyrion!

Your Skills arent necessary. Distract her and peel off.

It wasnt entirely true. Lord Pellmia could definitely aid their advance. Howeverthe [Lord of Love and Wine] was an experienced campaigner. He didnt argue.

Besides. Tyrion wanted, needed him to return to House Quellae and share his class with his family. Tyrion shifted, and his forces broke right, splitting from the diversionary force like a bolt of lightning unleashed.

Jericha, raise the Banner of House Veltras!

Tyrion! Luck!

Pellmias voice followed Tyrion as the [Lord] lowered his lance and rode. The Great General was focused away from him, but she saw him coming. He couldnt get there fast enough.

Who is she? Why have I never heard her name?

Half-Elves. How many more were like this, hidden away? Tyrion didnt know. For once, he didnt think of Ryoka Griffin. He couldnt, not even of Sammial or all of what he had seen and feared.

He had to focus.

The Great General had a personal bodyguard of only two dozen figures. He had never seen them fight; Eldavin had sieged her camp once, but the magical battle had been too fast. Tyrion had never gotten this close, and he saw the forces trying to halt him being swept out of the way by one of Eldavins spells.

Dimensional magic to counter time. Tyrion just rode, his people behind him bearing down in a lance-charge on the Great General of Ages.

[Knights Challenge]. Lord Veltras

He met a [Knight] and ran them through. Tyrion let go of the lance, and someone slowed to retrieve it.

Lance!

[My Lord, Ever Armed]!

Jericha had one in his hands. Onwards! The Great General was waiting, now. Buscrei in the shadows, Swey at his side.

Lets get them, Tyrion

They needed an opening. A [Bodyguard] could literally sacrifice their lives for the Great General. Tyrion could bypass that Skillperhaps. He had saved every Skill for this moment.

[Might of Four]. [Piercing Thrust]. [Thirty-Foot Thrust]

A lance flickered through the air before they were even close. It went for Dionamellas heart, or seemed to. In truth, it was aimed at the figure just to her left. She was no warrior, and the Great General had a moment of hesitation.

The weakness of [Mages]. Tyrions lance shot towards a leather-armored chest. Wyvern? Something else? In that flicker of time between time, not Dionames but Tyrions, a warriors reaction

He saw pointed ears. A hood.

The half-Elf deflected the lance-strike with his sword. Tyrion Veltras felt his strike go wide and reset himself. He locked eyes and saw a mere twenty bodyguards, half the size of his force, waiting for them.

Each one a half-Elf. Each oneold. Tyrion Veltras had learned to fear old people.

They tended to have high-level classes.

[My Sword Sings Twice].

[Lancing Hydrastrike]

The [Blademaster] and [Lord] switched to swords as his second lance-strike was deflected by a [Bastion Shieldbearer]. House Veltras finest met the half-Elves and bled.

[Grand Fireball]! Dead

A knife went through one of the [Riders] next to Jericha. Her own magic fizzled as a half-Elf calmly canceled her magic. Another veteran of House Veltras whirled down a halberd and exchanged five blows with a half-Elf on the ground. Jericha saw the woman fall as the [Hydrabane Assassin] resheathed her blades, preparing for another instantaneous draw from the poisonous sheaths.

Theyre all over Level 30! Advance

The Great General had a bodyguard worthy of her. House Veltras on the charge met themand one died.

Tyrion Veltras duel with the [Blademaster] ended in him peeling away. As two more [Soldiers] engaged a half-Elf blocking their swords with his hands, he struck down and slashed through a neck. As the half-Elf fell, a palm-blow struck Tyrion in the side, and Jericha thought she heard his ribs pop.

One. The Great General of Ages cast a spell, and dark magic slew eight warriors. Jericha saw Swey abandon his mace, trying to grapple with the [Blademaster].

Swey!

The [Climbing Lord] lunged, and his hand closed around the half-Elfs throat. They had to win! The half-Elfs greatsword was askew, not suited for the close-ranged combat of the [Lord] who had climbed mountains.

The other, gauntleted hand came up.

[My Hands Were a Second Blade].

The [Blademaster] cut Sweys gauntleted hand off, even as the fingers tried to tighten. Swey recoiled, staring at the stump of his hand.

Fall back! Fall back! Reform the charge!

Tyrion was circling, pulling them back for a second pass. They would get no third one.

All of this was seconds. Five seconds of fighting and the Great Generals bodyguard and she herself had left over a fourth of their number dead. She was preparing a spell for Tyrion that he couldnt block. But he had to ride at her; if he ran, he died.

There was no opening, though. The half-Elves closed ranks, and the [Blademaster] tugged at Sweys hand as the [Lord] stumbled back. What would he do? If he even lived

In that gap, as they circled, as Dionamella waited, over the fighting, in the din of battleeveryone heard the faintest

Crunching sound. The Great General glanced sideways. The [Blademaster]s hand was locked around the severed digits clinging to his throat. He had a knifehed dropped the greatsword and was trying to cut the fingers away.

Yet the hand kept gripping. Another half-Elf wavered and tried to remove the fingers, but they dug deeper, deeper, bending the mithril gorget, a grip that not even the [Blademaster] could remove. He severed bone and flesh, but the fingers kept tightening

Once, Lord Swey, a young man, had lost a friend while climbing. It was an old story. His grip had slipped.

Everyone had suffered loss and tragedy. Their experiences made up their levels, classes, and Skills. Swey, drinking a potion, slowed and watched as the [Blademaster] fell, choking.

[I Will Never Let You Go].

They rode. Tyrion Veltras charged into that moment of distraction, into a hand traded for a life. The half-Elves raised their weapons, and the Great General of Ages pointed at him.

Buscreis arrow, enchanted by Archmage Eldavin, loosed from behind with three dozen others, flickering through the air. They hit Dionames barrier. Buscreis arrow vanished out of existence, reappeared, and struck the Great General of Ages through the back.

Not a killing blow, but it went through the base of her spine, and the magic on her fingertips failed. Falling to her hands, the Great General looked up as Tyrion Veltras rode at her. She whispered as that lance dipped down.

Dioname twisted as the arrow flew, and it passed under one arm. She pointed.

[Law of the Lucifen: Punish Arrows]!

Wh

Buscreis bow erupted into flames, and her squad screamed as dark fire engulfed them. Tyrion Veltras broke off his charge as Dioname turned to him.

Retreat!

Her spell was still off. The Great General cursed as House Veltras retreated. Panicked. Not knowing how she had done that.

It was the perfect attack! How? The wide-eyed [Mage] knew. Jericha looked at Dioname and received it.

Justa simple spell, blasted publicly, no encryption. Nothing great. A Tier 3 spell.

[Message].

ARROW BEHIND. DODGE.

But how had she?

The [Timekeeper General] exhaled. She feltdrained beyond belief. The amount of mana it took to cast a [Message] spell was miniscule. Some Skills even removed the cost altogether.

However. Casting even that spell through time?

[15 Second Message].

Anda Skill for her level.

[Fate, I Take the Other Path]. Dont let them escape. I must rest.

On the third day, House Veltras desperate gambit failed. A close call.

Do not lose focus. Dioname realized she was distracted. Not just by the Archmage, nor the Skills. Her head turned left and right as she drank a mana potion that Fithea had personally brewed, and Rhisveri demanded to know if she was alright.

What am I sensing?

On the fourth day, Archmage Eldavin unleashed everything he had against her. He cast spells for six hours straight, trying to consume her, her army, roaring his fury, incredulous as he failed to defeat a mortal.

For he wasshe could see it on him. Pride. An inability to admit that he was lesser. Someonethe Wind Runnerhad poisoned him with more than just betrayal. He knew he was better than her. So he lost.

On the fifth day, the Dame of the Hills slew the Lightherald.

The Great General watched. His armor did not break, but his body did. She had seen brave champions like this before, and if he had left or yielded, she would have simply used a Skill to prevent him from re-entering the battle.

But there was a chance he could have won. So he fought and died. Afterwards, Dioname ordered Dame Merila to the rear, to the fortress where honor had meant the [Knights] failed to take the keep.

Do what you will, Dame Merila. I will end this.

The last [Princess] who knew Rabbiteater had seen it all. His lowest moment. His glory! Helpless, stranded a continent away, and chasing after her daughter

I have to go after her. I will not go home. If I could have even gotten there and helped.

Lyonette du Marquin gazed at the wounded [Knight] as he rose. The silent Thronebearers watched. Yet Ser Dalimont, seeing Princess Seraphel held back, saw something.

A glimmer of light. A tiny spark ofmagic. Aura?

Or just hope. The [Princess] lifted a trembling finger. She had never tried this.

It felt like she was trying to lift a mountain with a single finger. The vast distance, a hostile battlefieldit weighed against her.

She pushed at it. If Erin Solstice could defy a Wall Lord of Salazsar, if Rabbiteater could challenge a half-Giantwhy not her?

She was the 6th Princess of Calanfer. Lyonette the Fiery! Lyonette the disgrace! She had not deserved her class. She had been low-level, and few [Princesses] ever gained high levels.

But she had risen. The [Worldly Princess] voice shook as badly as her hand. Forcing the words out.

[BB]

Princess?

One of the Thronebearers thought she was having a panic attack! Ser Sest tried to touch her, and Dalimont shoved him backwards.

A light was growing. A flickeringLyonettes nose started bleeding. Even so, she pushed back.

I have to go to Mrsha. But youyou! My kingdom. My people. Even my sisters! Rabbiteater!

She shouted his name. You, who went so far from home! She wrestled with the power of the Great General of Ailendamus. Even though it was her nation and he fought for her peopleit was so hard!

Then Lyonette remembered something. She was not the first. An [Innkeeper] had stood there and given him her blessing. He had been at her inn.

So Lyonette traced the path across the world. Just like Erin Solstice, she sent her will across this world. The only thing she could give.

To Rabbiteater, her friend, her guest. That brave [Knight].

Come back home safely.

Someday, we will meet again.

A sigil traced itself in the air. A glowing crest. It looked like a radiant throne. The symbol of House Marquin. The royal seal of Calanfer. It flashed, and Lyonette screamed the words.

[Boon of the Princess]!

At firstit seemed like nothing happened. Lyonette, shaking, looked despairingly at the scrying orb. Nothing happened. Rabbiteater struggled, with only blood on his armor. Then she remembered something Drassi had told her:

The scrying orbs were on a five-minute delay.

A light began to shine from Rabbiteaters armor.

He felt something. Something

Even as the sword crushed him down to the ground. Even as he fought on, against a foe he knew he couldnt defeat.

He heard no levels. No class consolidation because he was doing what was really impossible. Not valorous or brave, or even pivotal. Just stupid.

Yet he felt as if someone did have his back. Whywhy did he think of blue eyes? Red hair? Someone chasing after a little furball and laughing?

A kindly smile?

It was bright. Rabbiteater did not see the first glimmers of light. He did not hear the gaspsonly saw Merilas face as it grew uncertain.

What is

She threw up a hand as the first golden ray of light appeared. It was tracing something in the air. On Rabbiteaters armor. All those who knew their heraldryeven the basic flagsrealized what it was.

The seal of Calanfer. Seraphels eyes went wide.

Father? He cant

There was no other explanation for it, though. Rabbiteater felt as if the world were growing brighter. He felt

Stronger. His wounds were healing? Or maybe he just felt better. But if it was just brighter for him

My eyes!

Merila shaded her gaze, trying to see. She had taken precautions against the Lightherald, but the unexpected searing light blinded her! And the Hobgoblin

[Temporary Skill Radiance of the Dawn obtained!]

[Temporary Skill Might of the Homeland obtained!]

He leapt. One of the Hobgoblins hands carried him up the Dame of the Hills armor as she swiped at the ground, lashing out, unable to see. He climbed, and she twisted.

[Omnidirectional Slash]

She missed. He threw himself up, springing off her knee as the panicked Hill-Knight slashed. Her blind eyes looked up as the [Knight] raised his axe.

Rabbiteater landed on Merilas shoulder, and his brothers axe rose. To terrible purpose.

A howl rose from Merilas [Squire], and the [Knights] of Ailendamus looked up as Ser Solstice raised his battleaxe. Rabbiteater swung, as Merila looked at him. A moment of resignation, and he struck

Merilas head didnt go flying. The enchanted edge of the axe drew no blood.

Rabbiteater held the blade there, kissing her throat. The Dame recoiled, the expectation of death fading.

You

You are bested. Cant fight.

The Goblin looked Merila in the eyes, and she thought she saw a toothy grin behind the helmet.

[Knight]-logic.

Then he leapt. The half-Giant was so stunned she saw him land, charge for the gates, and he was halfway out before she turned.

Wait! This is not ended, Solstice! Fight me!

She roared, outraged. She had fought every other foe to the death! How dare he spare her? Was it contempt?

Ora Goblin unwilling to kill the only other non-Human [Knight] he had met. He was running, racing down the hill at the surprised [Knights]. Merila reached out to slash at him and hesitated. Honor.

SOLSTICE!

Her furious bellow followed him down the hill. Rabbiteater laughed as he ran.

And still, he shone. The blinding light came down the hill as he ran, brandishing his battleaxe. With one target.

Only you, sister. The Goblin looked up, and his eyes fixed on a confused face, half-shielded by a hand. Not a bad face. A warrior who knew something of honor.

Yet he still raised Headscratchers axe and threw it.

The enchanted edge of the gold-jade axe whirled through the air, a scything blade so huge it cut through space. It killed the poor warhorse. One of the [Strategists]. The [General of the Line] lowered his hand and the axe lodged itself in his chest. He was a valorous leader, a good warrior. But all it took was a moment.

The fourth [General] of Ailendamus fell as the Goblin grabbed a horse and swung himself onto it. He yanked the axe free and galloped away from the still-blind, stunned soldiers and [Knights].

Great General Dionamella was struggling only slightly.

They came for her, the Archmage raining fire down, Lord Tyrion Veltras tilting at her, clashing with her bodyguard, and the Griffin Prince. At last, she caught him.

Kaliv

He tried to cut at her, but the spell lifted him up. Dioname twisted, and a gigantic firestorm vanished into a point of darkness in her hand. She tossed the vortex back at Eldavin, and he flew away, cursing.

Even that would not kill him. So Dioname simply whispered.

[Teleport].

The Griffin Prince vanished. His Royal Griffin screamed, and the Wing of Shame circled, searching for him. Even if they found him, he was thirty miles away. And two hundred feet below the ground.

Dioname turned. The lance came at her, a [Lord], his aim impeccable. Very well.

[Lance of the Bone Giant]

A giant, spectral warrior raised a deadly weapon, and Tyrion turned to avoid even as he struck at Dioname. The Great General

Flinched. She ducked, and Tyrion dodged away. But he hadnt struck at her! Her spell went wild. What had

[Blade of Calanfer]!

Queen Marquin swung a sword at Dionames head, but it had no weight or substanceand shed made up the Skill, too. The dead had no Skills or levels.

But the Great General had flinched. She was suffering from her abilities. Rhisveri had taught her too much. The [Eyes of the Wyrm] were letting her see the ghosts. And they were

Distracting.

Dioname cursed and turned, ignoring the [Princess] trying to slap her to no avail. At first, she thought that the light was her imagination too.

The Lightherald was dead, after all. The Dawn Concordat was breaking before the Five Families. Calanferian [Soldiers] surrendered, and the half-Elves and people of Kaliv were beginning to follow suit. Then they looked up as they saw a familiar light.

Did you believe in miracles? A figure rode towards Ailendamus lines from the rear. He was unstoppablehis axe swung left and right, an enchanted edge cutting down foes with all the reach of a lance. Even Tyrion Veltras stopped when he noticedbut took advantage of the moment.

The encircling army around the keep where the three [Princesses] lay trapped had abandoned the siege and were chasing after him, but too slowly. All except the Dame of the Hills, who was pounding the ground in helpless frustration, bested.

He looked far different than the Lightherald. For one thing, he was smaller. Perhaps he did not glow so brightly, and he carried an axe and cloak of red liquid, not the sword and shield.

Even so. To the despairing men and women, the sight of that figure charging an army alone was enough. Their officers screamed, and the Thronebearers cried out.

The Lightherald of Calanfer! To the light! For Calanfercharge!

Who is that?

Dioname squinted against the radiance. Then she saw House Veltras and Eldavin charging. She turned her head as Marquin shouted in her ears.

Diplomacy!

All distractions. But all it took was a single charge. One moment of weakness

What is it? Its coming

The new Lightheralds charge upon Ailendamus was the break Tyrion Veltras sought. He rode at her as Eldavin descended.

an end to this. [Valmiras Falling Starry Sky].

He crashed down with the greatest spell of Archmage Valmira. Veltras pierced the lines of her soldiers, riding for her. The Lightherald was moving Calanfer to overrun!

The victor must watch for this moment. Great General Dionames lips moved.

[Out of Time, Kept]/[They Waited, For My Hour of Need]/[We Unleashed Our Truest Potential].

A rift in the battlefield opened. The charging Dawn Concordats forces, the Lightheraldsaw shapes moving.

Riding out of time itself. Only a thousand.

They bore Ailendamus crest, but an older version. Their armor came from older times, and they looked upon a far different battlefield. Yet they had sacrificed as much as she.

The Great General of Ages calls us hence! Charge! Charge in the name of Dionamella of Ailendamus!

The thousand warriors held in stasis surged forwards in the silence of despair. Dioname looked at them and bowed, just slightly.

Its Dioname, actually

There was always the last stand. The final comeback. She was the one who had to crush the last ember of hope. It was not easy. Never falter, never relax.

Not even till the end.

So why do I still feel dread creeping over me? Dioname exhaled, and the Lightherald, Ser Solstice, slowed.

So this was it. They surrounded him, and the foreign thousand were aimed straight at him. Unfair to the end.

But I got this far. Thanks, Lyonette. Rabbiteater looked at the Great General and saw the futility of his death. So he raised his gauntlets.

I y

Someone blew a horn at his back. Rabbiteater jerked as his yield was cut off. There was someone wailing on a battlehorn. Not just blowing one sonorous call, but a piping blast of music. Triumphal. Desperate?

The [Knight] looked over his shoulder and saw the gates of the keep open. The flag that flew Calanfers colors over the top was gone. He thought, at first, that they had surrendered or something.

Then he saw the stream of bodies charging out of the gates. [Soldiers], running downhill. Men and women on horseback, racing forwards in a flash of colors.

Kaliv, Gaiil-Drome, Pheislant, led by the brave Marshal Huges, but most of all, running or riding with every scrap of energy they had leftCalanfers people.

Including the [Fortress Keeper]. Every hand had abandoned the fortress. Do or die.

The most outrageously insane move that Rabbiteater had ever seen. Even the Goblin was taken aback. But as the twice-despairing [Soldiers] of the Dawn Concordat looked up, fingers pointed.

Calanfers [Soldiers] lifted their heads. Some rubbed at their eyes, and the Thronebearers, the much-maligned [Knights], abandoned their positions and possibly their minds. They raced forwards, heedless of the danger, charging the surprised Ailendamus [Soldiers]. There was a cry on their lips.

Beyond the Lightherald. The mysterious warrior whose name no one knewmore than even his presence, the people of Calanfer pointed to the flag waving as it was carried down the hill. The shining tiara, and the terrified woman holding it.

The [Princess] of Calanfer!

The 4th Princess of Calanfer, Seraphel du Marquin, rode towards Rabbiteater as he watched. Her face was as white as a sheet, and she was in danger of being thrown from the equally-terrified mare. Yet the entire force of the keep followed her. Rabbiteater heard the Thronebearers shouting.

To the [Princess]! To the [Princess] and the Lightherald! The Eternal Throne rot your cowardicecharge!

There was no logic to itCalanfer just charged. [Archers] in the back, Thronebearersthe chaos of every hand and body rushing Ailendamus from every angle took even the Great General of Ailendamus back. Calanfers people threw themselves forwards.

And Ailendamus officersbegan to worry. They hesitated. Not just because of the surprise. Because they had studied Calanfer.

Calanfer and the Thronebearers, who preferred words over swords. No [Princess] of Calanfer had ever died in battle. What did they know? Where were the reinforcements?

They looked for something that didnt exist, and as they didRabbiteater just watched Seraphel. Their eyes metand then he was galloping next to her.

Wear armor, stupid!

She just gaped at him. Then Rabbiteater was swinging his axe as they plunged into the fighting.

Kill that [Princess].

Dioname gave the order quietly. Her bodyguard took aim. Live or dieshed thrown the army into chaos, but the Great General couldnt risk it. No matter what

The arrow flew, and the [Knight] blocked it with one of his arms! Dioname cursed.

Archers! Volley!

Regular [Archers] spun and loosed a shower into the air. The [Soldiers] charged into the chaos. Even if she had charged, the keeps defenders were few, and most were still running on foot. There was no actual force there, just one elite [Knight].

And the undead.

Huh?

Dionames head snapped back. She saw a pale face, turned blue from lack of oxygen, still swollen around the place where a blade had chopped halfway through a neck, rising. A zombie wearing Calanfers colors rose, and a terrified [Soldier] stabbed it down. But the ghoul that leapt on the [Soldier] was one ofhundreds.

The dead are rising! Its her! The Cursed Princess of Calanfer!

People were shouting in confusion. Someone else roared.

The disaster of Ovela has come to haunt us! To arms!

A small army of the dead was rising, fighting around the [Princess]and empowered by one of Seraphels Skills. General Dionames head twisted. She held up a hand.

It is just low-level undead. Surround and cut them off! Its not her raising them. I hear

She cupped a hand to her ear. The origin was far distant, but Dioname still heard it.

Someone was singing.

Rhisveri. Music? I hear a female voice. Feren, the [Necromancer] we thought turned traitorits not him.

Elsewhere, the Wyrm stirred. A few pieces from last year began to fall into place. Yet they had no time to puzzle it out.

They had no context. Not for the 4th Princess of Calanfer. Not for the Singer of Afiele. Dionames eyes lingered on Seraphel and Rabbiteater a moment too long.

Eldavin descended on her. Lord Tyrion Veltras galloped through her bodyguard as they fought House Veltras, and the Great General saw it.

[Time Slows For All But Me].

She didnt know how much she spent? A year for each second?

The galloping [Lord] and Archmage slowed. Eldavins eyes were wide with incredulity as Dioname raised a slow finger. Even she was caught in her Skill, but she moved far faster.

She put three holes in his chest. One straight through his heart. The Lucifens own magic seared a hole through him, and the Archmage staggered.

But he refused to die. He tried to fall back, and Dioname saw her hands

Fading.

The skin grew grey and withered. Yetand yetshe saw someone coming for her. The Archmage of Memory was helpless, slowed to a crawl. A tenth of regular speed?

He was still so fast. Lord Tyrion Veltras had a lance and sword in hand. His arm struck at her with a Skill, straining to reach hershe dodged the strikes, physically avoiding them.

So quick! That lance turned, and she increased the magnitude.

Slower still. Eldavins eyes were locked on her, and yet his magic kept fighting hers. She murmured, teeth bared.

What are you?

Dioname saw the ghosts trying to block her way as Tyrion Veltras turned, the lance raised. She looked at him, her hands brimming with magic. Her gaze rose. And rose.

The Great General of Ages looked up. Past Tyrion Veltras, and her eyes grew wide with horror. She stood there, despite the battle, despite it all, transfixed. She could not help it.

Some things mortals were not meant to see. In all her ages, in the company of immortals

She had never seen something like this.

What is that?

The [Timekeeper General] beheld her very end as it struck her. She staggeredEldavin recoiled, choking on his own blood, yet preserved by the magic that gave him life

Lord Tyrions lance struck Dioname through the heart.

The Great General of Ages aura collapsed. Her Skills winked out, and everyone came to a standstill. Those who had known her, the thousand warriors, her bodyguard, realized it instantly.

She had died. It was beyond a mortal wound; the enchanted lance of House Veltras had gone through her chest, and Dioname possessed no magic to turn back fate that far.

In that moment, the half-Elf heard a shriek from a Wyrm calling her name. She almost rejoiced, because she had not known there was emotion left to give in Rhisveri.

She was dead, struck, and yet she lived. Tyrion was trying to pull the lance back, Eldavin, to destroy Dionamella completely, when the hand grabbed Tyrions arm. He froze, unable to pull back, and Eldavin was caught by the throat as the Great General rasped, blood bubbling from her mouth.

You have been my end. But II am the Great General of Ailendamus. And I will only rest when I have said my piece.

They struggled, but she had no life left to kill. Her heart had stopped, but like those of her level

She refused to die. Just for a moment. Dioname threw back her head, and her voice echoed.

Bear witness!

Her [Soldiers] and the Dawn Concordats looked up at her as she shouted, blood running down her face.

This day, Ailendamus has lost. This daya Great General is slain. But remember this: this day, a common-born half-Elf girl who has never known the shade of the eternal trees held down a [Lord] with blood as old as the Hundred Families from which monarchs are struck and an Archmage from the halls of magic itself. Wistram and Veltras alone could not slay me.

The Archmage was trying to break free, but she had a deathgrip on his throat. Dioname struggled for words. She was fadingbut she had to say it.

My kin. Do not waste your lives in our ageless villages. Each second must be treasured. For my life I have givenmy promise will endure as long as Ailendamus. The Kingdom of Glass and Glorywill never persecute our kind.

A wish. Rhisveri had offered her one wish. Just like all the others. It was done. Dionamellas voice and magic were fading, but she shouted. A desperate warning.

It was not House Veltras who slew me! Something is coming! They are coming upup, but you cannot see it! Guard the gates! Make ready, or all will be l

Eldavin tore himself free, and a hundred lances of fire struck through her. Dionamella staggered.

Damn you.

The Archmage was fleeing, to his victory. But it would not be that easy. She caught him, and he turned, face grey with fear. Well he should be.

The last power in Dionamella was still the full might of her class. And she had no fear of death, now.

Time slowed. Then stopped. Eldavin stood with her hand on his shoulder in a world that had no continuation. She focused the very nature of her magic on him and realized the truth.

You have no end. Only a beginning.

He was immune, like the rest of them, to the heart of her magic. What a terrible irony.

He was beginning to break even time itself. Bitterly, she realized she couldnt kill him.

At leastthenyou imposter to my kind. At least feel the weight of your years!

She struck him once, and he recoiled. Eldavin staggered backwardsand suddenly his breath caught. He wheezed and looked down at the first true wrinkles on his skin. His perfect form, aged in a breath.

He fled. Now, the darkness was closing, and Dioname felt someone trying to break her grip. She looked at Tyrion Veltras.

My lord. My friend. This lance comes for you. This terrible lance, my friend, which has slain me. To you, my mentor who gave me might and chance.

She was whispering now, to Rhisveri alone. Dioname drifted, but she clung to ither last duty.

Youcan yet be a good rulerbecause you have forever to learn. You will never forget me.

Her other hand touched Tyrions face, now. Dispassionately, Dioname looked into his face as he struggled.

So this lance I cannot remove from my heart. It aims at you. I cannot kill it.

Fading away.

The most precious gift I can, I give

She focused, and the [Lord] fought her, aura against hers. Pride and strength. As if he were the only one who had ever known struggle. Dionamella threw him as she declared her last gift.

To the immortals of Ailendamus, the most precious thing:

Time.

Lord Tyrion Veltras stumbled, and she counted.

Thirty?

Nothe power was slipping away far too fast.

Twenty?

She tried. Ah, but now she felt something tugging her. Sixteen, then.

Dionamella looked up, and Tyrion Veltras, howling as something engulfed him, the last wrath of the Great General of Ages, saw Dionamella suddenly jerk.

Something snatched her up. He saw a fighting, screaming half-Elf blasting a horror he had only seen once, washed up on Izrils shores

And then she died.

What happened? No one, not even Tyrion and Eldavin or Rhisveri could answer that.

The Great General of Ages diedbut to what? What had she meant?

And what had she done?

In the aftermath of battle, Ailendamus forces were surrendering or retreating. They left. Their Great General had fallen, and none had the will after that.

A Wyrm lost his mind. The one mortal he had ever respected died there, and he vowed a vengeance unlike any that had ever come before or would ever come after.

Men and women levelled, and a [Princess] stood with a [Knight] amid cheering Calanfer. Yet Ailendamus wrath would come.

At leastat least an Archmage stood against them. And the [Lord] of House Veltras. Even someone to replace the Lightherald, and the Griffin Prince, who could not die?

Yet Eldavin ached with time, which would not leave him. The second-to-last deed of the Great General of Ailendamus. She could not use time to slay someone who was immortal, even this copy.

But what had she done to Tyrion Veltras? He stood there, looking at his hands. For a moment, he had known such agony that he had screamed and begged for it to stop.

Now the pain was gone. Yet he waspuzzled. In the moments when he reappeared, when Jericha turned and the [Bodyguards] still living put down their blades and surrendered, weeping for their comrade, Jericha approached.

Tyrion? Lord Tyrion? Are you?

Are you alright? She stopped, as if run through herself. He turned to her, and she heard a strangers voice.

Jericha? Am I wounded?

He didntfeel wounded. With the last vestiges of her power, Dioname had cursed him? Orwhy did he feel better?

Better, suddenly. A spring in his step that he didnt know hed ever lost. It had faded and hed made do, but now it was back, he felt it. A feeling as though he could run and jump and do everythingand wanted to.

And his hands! They lookedthe same? Same size, but as Tyrion tugged off a gauntlet, he realized what it was.

They were less weathered. Veins less pronounced maybe? As if

Then he put his hands to his face, and the younger [Lord] realized what had been done.

Sixteen years. Dioname had used the last of her strength to throw himsixteen years into the past.

Some basic math occurred to Tyrion, though he was so shocked he might have gotten it wrong.

44 16 = 28.

Twenty-eight. That wasyoung. But why? Why not throw him into his sixties? That would do far more. Tyrion thought it was almost a blessing until something occurred to him.

Slowly, he raised his hand.

[Lancing Hydrastrike].

The Skill that he had long-ago gained and mastered, a superlative eight blows with a sword or lancedid not activate. Tyrion saw Jericha grow pale and then realize it herself.

Shed taken him back in time. Not his memories or personality

Shed taken his levels.

On the fifth day of battle, Great General Dioname of Ailendamus perished. The loss of the greatest army of Ailendamus marked a turning point in the war, as its armies withdrew to the homeland and the Dawn Concordat advanced for the first time.

Dioname, as the Duke Rhisveri would later inscribe upon the many statues and tributes to her, had single-handedly held off every foe against her. He would write this on one of her statues:

If lesser men had not gathered to bring her down, she would have never fallen. If worms had not let her die alone, she would still be here. Mark me. She will be avenged.

Authors Note: Day 6. Still on progress.

Hope you enjoyed. One more dayand perhaps it will be a shorter chapter since I know I havent much energy left. I hope this one was done well enough. It should bebut I am willing to try, even though I should have all the energy and revisions in the world to write Dionames end.

But I dont, and the nature of writing this so quickly, day-by-day, is fitting. Its a way to write. It cant go forever and it has plenty of flaws, but it is immediate and a style. I just hope its good enough. See you tomorrow for the end of this.

High Passes and Goblin by painterinthesky!

Crab Mrsha by /boboplushie

Ryoka and Fierre by VulpyDoodlesStudios, commissioned by Spanner!