CHAPTER ASHBORN 439: AN UNLIKELY GAMBIT

Vir patrolled Samar Patag’s streets ill at ease. Every time he glanced at the city’s long-decaying walls, he wished he could be out there, helping his demons scout villages in danger of being attacked.

Yet now was not the time. Attacking the amassing Chitran armies too early would simply force them to disperse, possibly regrouping again at a later date.

No, to be done with the Chitran and establish the Garga permanently, Vir needed to deal a blow so harsh it would break the very spirit of his enemies. Victory wasn’t enough. Only an overwhelming victory, accomplished in front of tens of thousands of eyes, would suffice.

And so, Vir waited as their armies coalesced, drawing closer to Samar Patag’s walls by the day. The final battle would occur in the same field as the Ash Beast horde he’d defended the city against.

Except this time, he wouldn’t let a single one through. This time, there would be no dead children on account of his failure. Not because he, personally, was infallible.

But because he’d built an army that was.

And while his personal airship and mobility arts allowed him to traverse the sky far faster than any demon, he couldn’t compete with a fleet of twenty airships, all deployed to different areas.

No, despite his immense strategic impact on the field, his status as Akh Nara trumped even that. On the field, he might save a few dozen villagers. Back here? He could inspire thousands.

As such, Vir spent his time waving and nodding to demons as he passed—Gargans and Chitran alike—helping an old kothi woman when she was about to fall, bestowing gifts of food wherever he could, and generally serving as an anchor during these rough times. He complimented the people for their resilience. He spoke of the great times ahead, and he comforted those who had lost loved ones.

Vir almost felt like a fraud when their eyes lit up with wonder and hope.

Almost. While comforting the people and accepting their many platitudes felt to him like petty, easy work—especially when compared to his Asuras who risked their lives to protect the realm—Vir was no coddled king. While he acknowledged the many advantages he’d been bestowed, he’d built everything he had from the ground up. Brick by brick. Stone by stone.

No, Vir understood the significance of his actions here. While the ones he interacted with no doubt would sing praises of him, the many eyes that witnessed his actions—helping the Chitran, exuding an aura of calm and confidence—would also be affected, if to a lesser degree.

Word of his actions would spread, and, wanting to emulate him, the people would in turn be more willing to help one another. Perhaps even the Chitran.

While that might have been too optimistic, Vir’s actions reduced the chances of a civil war, at the very least.

Before long, Vir found he’d reached the edge of the city and turned back, choosing another street to return along.

Samar Patag was not a large city. Compared to Sonam, it might as well have been a village, though even when compared to Daha, it lacked in size.

It wasn’t just Samar Patag, either. Owing to their longer lifespans and relatively low fertility, there simply weren’t as many demons as there were humans. The lack of prana only made matters worse, reducing the land’s ability to sustain higher populations.

At least that, Vir hoped he could solve. He imagined Samar Patag expanding far beyond its original walls, dominating the forests to the north and south. He imagined several new cities popping up, all interconnected by a robust network of highways and air lanes.

Vir saw so much in the Demon Realm. So much progress, so close at hand. If only he weathered this next little while.

And then there was the Human Realm. As if one realm wasn’t enough. Vir had yet to sort his thoughts regarding the humans. Maiya’s desire to help them was understandable—that realm was her home, after all. Yet how much of his time should Vir expend there? What did he hope to achieve?

Peace, for one. If humans and demons could live and interact peaceably, that was enough for him. Maiya might have grand plans to unite that realm, but Vir honestly didn’t see himself in that role. He didn’t wish to be the ruler of the realms. Never had. He only wished to ease the peoples’ suffering… And to learn the truth behind Janak’s actions.

Luckily, the means to learn more sat just below his feet. A Primordial Chamber, just like the one he’d discovered beneath the Prana Gorger’s lair.

To think Raoul kept that a secret from me…

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Raoul. Another loose end to tie. As prepared for it as he was, the burdens of leadership only continued to mount.

“Ah, you’re here!” a familiar voice called. “Good, lend me a hand with this. I fear these old bones aren’t quite enough to lift this.”

Vir rolled his eyes. The old bones in question belonged to none other than Cirayus, who was directing repair efforts on the ancient walls of Samar Patag. It seemed his father had planned to tear down the crumbling ruins to remake them anew. A plan that was stopped dead in its tracks by the Chitran occupation, and Matiman hadn’t seen fit to maintain the old ones, either.

It was for this reason Vir was able to slip inside so easily last time, and it was how several Gargan Outcast Callings had escaped their dismal fate. At least, for those who hadn’t been caught. The others were put to death and denied the respect of cremation. No, their very bodies had been used to fill the gaps in the old walls. A bleak reminder to anyone who dared to try.

“What can I help with?” Vir asked, though he already had a pretty good idea. A section of the wall had been demolished in preparation for being filled with what appeared to be an enormous slab of stone. From where it had been quarried, Vir could only guess.

“Right, on the count of three, we both activate Balancer of Scales. Damned thing's so heavy that we can’t move it, even with my art active.”

Vir eyed the dozen-odd Asuras who’d taken up positions around the slab and nodded.

“Then, One. Two… Three!”

With the combined might of their arts, the demons managed to lift the slab into a vertical position. Vir was forced to reduce the area of the ability as they did. It was something he struggled with, but he couldn’t complain. Opportunities to practice and hone his skills were few and far between these days.

A few more bursts of effort, and the Asuras erected the enormous slab, sandwiching it between the two other wall sections.

“We’ll have to fill in the gaps with mortar and smaller stones, but this ought to fix this vulnerability. At least, until you commission a new wall. Something I’d prioritize if I were you. Even the good sections aren’t long for this world. Not to mention the, er, bodies.”

Vir winced. “Yes, well. If things go according to plan, there won’t be a need for these—”

“Lord Ravager! Lord Ravager!” an Asura cried, sprinting as fast as he could. “I bear news!”

It was only when he arrived at their position that he seemed to realize Vir was present, which, of course, brought him to his knees.

“Rise,” Vir said. “What word?”

“It’s Tara, Akh Nara. She’s been captured by the Aindri forces amassing to the east!”

Vir frowned. “Captured? How? Didn’t she steal an airship?”

“That’s just the thing, Akh Nara. They captured her airship, as well as the caravan of Ash’va wagons she was leading. Wagons full of supplies.”

Vir’s frown turned into a look of wonderment. “Well, I’ll be…”

“How will you react?” Cirayus asked. “Shall I sortie? Or shall we redirect nearby airships?”

“Neither,” Vir said, his lips creeping up into a devious grin. “Fetch Ashani. There’s someone who owes me a favor. Or ten. I think it’s about time I called in.”

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Tara sat with her arms crossed, forced into her fully human form in the tiny cage clearly not built for nagas.

She’d have to have a word with Vaak about that when she got out of here. It was a travesty!

She’d been sealed in the brig of her very own airship, for Badrak's sake!

Well, maybe not hers, seeing how she hadn’t exactly asked permission to take it. But reprimanding her would be the last thing on Vir’s mind when he saw the convoy of thirty Ash’va-drawn wagons, all packed to the brim with food, clothing, and medical supplies. To say nothing of the three hundred naga healers she’d brought along.

Tara could only blame Fate for this injustice. How could she have guessed that the Chitran and Aindri would choose her exact route to congregate along?

Besides, even if she had, there was but one road connecting Vraj Parah to Samar Patag. An old, worn road at that. They’d had little choice. Even with her scouting ahead with her airship, they’d been discovered. Aindri scouts had found them. Difficult to conceal such a large caravan when your opponent had some of the best scouts in the damned realm on their side.

“Annas,” Tara hissed. “If only it weren’t for him…”

Tara had seen firsthand just how devastating Vaak’s Asuras were. Each of them was easily worth at least fifty normal Warriors. Yet with just a dozen, they couldn’t hope to match an army of twenty thousand.

Nor were the three hundred Nagas of any great help. Most of her kind hadn’t learned a single combat spell, and those who did, did it purely out of a need for self-defense.

Her people weren’t fighters. In fact, most abhorred the very idea of participating in combat. A weakness Tara had always lamented. The world wasn’t so gentle that they could hide behind the protection of their status forever.

Still, she grumbled to herself, can’t deny it helps in situations like these.

The unwritten rule among all the clans was that the Panav were not to be harmed. All demons bled. All demons died. Only the Panav could save them. The threat of antagonizing her clan and losing access to their life-saving arts was too great to risk.

And so, clans went out of their way to keep her people alive. That didn’t stop them from collaring and enslaving them. Or treating them like animals, but it did at least keep them alive.

Tara ground her teeth as she recalled the bargain she’d struck with Annas.

Accept imprisonment or be collared and forced to heal her enemies. That went for Tara and the rest of her people alike.

Only the Asuras were excepted. They were needed to operate the airship, after all. They were all collared, though Tara had to wonder if such measures would do anything against such powerful Warriors.

Even she, with a body tempered by the prana of the Ashen Realm, could easily break out of this cell, should she choose to. It wasn’t the bars keeping her here, but rather the threat of what Annas would do to her people if she broke their bargain.

Even so, would anyone really notice if she bent the bars? Just enough to curl up in her naga form? Surely, Annas wouldn’t care?

Tara had only just bent the first bar when shouts broke out above decks.

“Ash-damn it all!” she cursed under her breath. They couldn’t have discovered her that quickly, could they? Had Annas installed some sort of detection inscription upon the jail cell? Tara didn’t see any.

Her confusion deepened further seconds later when a demon ran down the steps to her cell.

Not a kothi. A Gargan. An Asura.

“Your collar!” Tara blurted. “It’s gone.”

“Come quick!” he said, wrenching the bars of her cell with such force that they snapped.

“Has the Akh Nara come to rescue us?” she asked, stepping out of her cell.

“No. Well, yes? I’m unsure. It’s the Iksana. They’re annihilating Annas’ army!”