Cultist of Cerebon

Zareth anxiously paced back and forth as he waited for the residents of Jabal-Alma to return with a [Healer] for Skaara.

Or rather, it was more accurate to say that he was waiting for them to bring their so-called [Crystal Speaker]. It wasn’t a Class that Zareth had ever heard of before, nor could he guess its capabilities from just a name like that. Instead, Zareth was stuck anxiously hoping that these strange and isolated ogres were capable of healing the only person who could prevent him from being stranded in the middle of nowhere. This was a tall order, given that Vidhatri’s [Greater Purify Flesh] only stalled Skaara’s poison temporarily.

Upon descending into Jabal-Alma, the pale ogres had escorted Zareth and his retinue through a relatively large tunnel carved into the walls of the cenote which lead to an expansive cavernous space that served as the village’s hospital. The dimly lit interior was lined with beds filled with sickly and frail looking ogres, each of them surrounded by strange, brightly glowing crystals. Vidhatri placed Skaara on a medical bed in a recessed, secluded area separated by a curtain before the ogre guards surprisingly left Zareth and his retinue alone to help with other tasks in Jabal-Alma.

Zareth didn’t think it all that wise for the locals to leave a bunch of strangers unattended in the middle of their village even if they had been disarmed. However, the guards had cited supposed manpower issues and a belief that he and his retinue wouldn’t be able to do much harm.

He didn’t know where that confidence came from, but it was likely true that the ogres were needed elsewhere. Zareth had picked up on an abnormal undercurrent of anxiety and urgency within the locals he’d passed while being escorted to the hospital.

The best way to describe it was Jabal-Alma reminded him somewhat of an upturned beehive.

Even the hospital seemed unusually busy, with far more sickly-looking ogres than Zareth had expected from such a small settlement seeking medical attention. He’d attempted to probe his guides about what had caused so many people to fall ill, but the ogres had shut him down hard and unambiguously. They claimed that it was ‘nothing for outsiders to be concerned about’ and that ‘all questions should be directed to Chieftain Murog’.

Jabal-Alma had reportedly given a similar response to the representatives sent by High Command when Tal’Qamar first conquered the area. It was likely that things had changed significantly since then, but while various means of long-distance communication existed in this world, they were nowhere near as convenient or straightforward as back on Earth.

He very much doubted that High Command would accept that kind of answer from such a weaker party under normal circumstances, but these were far from normal times.

The Southern Legion already had its hands full with Anket and couldn’t afford to waste time disciplining such a relatively small settlement, which was why High Command had handed the matter over to the Hierophant Council. In addition to getting these people in line and purging any Conclave influence, High Command had heavily suggested that they would prefer for Zareth to deal with whatever was ailing Jabal-Alma.

Zareth hadn’t understood why they would care at first, but seeing how so many of Tal’Hadin’s fighting age populace were conscripted for the war implied a motivation which he… wasn’t all that eager to fulfill.

He understood that war was barbaric, but these people would eventually be his responsibility and he had very little interest in seeing them thrown into a meat grinder.

Although, he did wish that they could become a bit more friendly…

“What nonsense. How can they ignore my questions when I’m stuck waiting because all of their healers are busy,”Zareth muttered angrily before taking a deep breath to calm himself down and smiling wryly. “If I survived my second assassination attempt just to run into some kind of plague on the same day, I’m not going to be happy.”

“It is doubtful that these people are suffering from such a calamity,” said Vidhatri, responding seriously to his half-joking remark as she peeked through the curtain to the rest of the busy hospital. “The specter of death and hopelessness does not hang over them like it otherwise would.”

That was certainly true. The presence of the System and the Vitality Stat meant that things like plagues and famines were unlikely to occur when compared to back on Earth. This also meant that when they did happen, they could almost always be traced back to some kind of magical or supernatural source.

Needless to say, any magical plagues virulent enough that a nation couldn’t deal with it by hiring the Healer’s Guild or Mage Academies were almost always apocalyptic in scale. Jabal-Alma would already be a village of corpses if that were the case.

“I agree with Zareth that these people could be a bit more forthcoming,” said Rizok, expression tired as he leaned against a wall, arms crossed. “Stripped of our weapons, exhausted from surviving a well-planned ambush that resulted in multiple casualties, and waiting blindly within the territory of a less than friendly populace facing some manner of unknown threat. Our day could certainly have gone better.”

Vidhatri glanced toward Rizok, likely hearing the same carefully restrained frustration and sorrow in the soldier’s voice that Zareth felt within himself. As the highest-ranking soldier within their group, Rizok had naturally taken on the role of their leader and protector.

Zareth had no doubt that Rizok blamed himself for the lives that they had lost.

Just as he was about to offer his friend what comforting words he could, Vidhatri beat him to it as she walked over to Rizok and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Rizok leaned into the touch and looked back at the shivarath with a grateful smile, who also wore a rare expression of sympathy.

Zareth couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy at their bond as he was also upset by the loss of those soldiers.

While he hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to become best friends with the members of his retinue, it wasn’t as if he could simply brush off their deaths. Not only had they literally given their lives to protect his well-being on an expedition that he had chosen to undertake, but these soldiers were ostensibly under his command. Whether it be when he was in a gang, the head of a cult, or the leader of these soldiers, Zareth always considered himself to have a responsibility to those who followed him.

That he failed in that goal, losing lives to an ambush which he had every reason to expect, was not a good feeling.

“These Borvulk are unlikely to share any information with you before you meet their [Chieftain]. They are even more averse to outsiders than we Gruvulk due to their isolation.”

Zareth was pulled from his melancholic thoughts by a deep rumbling voice and glanced at the source to see that the words had been spoken by the same massive ogre he’d hidden behind during the ambush.

“What do you mean, Sergeant Grunlok?” asked Rizok, much to Zareth’s relief. He really didn’t want to admit to anyone that he actually hadn’t memorized the soldier’s name. “Unfortunately, I’m only as familiar with your people’s culture as much as the ogre soldiers in the military have shared with me, which is less than I would like. What is a Borvulk?”

Zareth was also a bit curious. While him being a human gave Zareth a connection to the Desharin, he had no such access to Tal’Qamar’s similarly insular ogre community. He’d heard a few of the ogres refer to themselves as Borvulk before and thus knew that the word referred to them as a community, but they were generally uninterested in sharing more about their culture.

“Hmm… that is a difficult question to answer without first explaining a unique… quirk of ogre biology,” Sergeant Grunlok said after a moment of thoughtful silence. “Have you ever heard the term ‘Thaumagenic Bioadaption Quotient’? This is the official term those [Mages] at Veilspire Academy created to describe the relevant phenomenon.”

Zareth suddenly felt like he was back in college randomly hearing such an academic term out of nowhere. He vaguely recognized the term, but he couldn’t remember from where and certainly didn’t recall any details.

“Thaumagenic Bioadaption Quotient, or TBQ, is essentially a measurement of how well a being's physiology can adapt and integrate with ambient magical energies,” Vidhatri said immediately, her expression growing interested as she turned her attention to the soldier. “It’s a term which I learned during my studies to become a Senior Fleshwarper, but I’m confused as to how this relates to your people. There are very few ogres in Zumair, as far as I know.”

“That’s correct,” said Sergeant Grunlok, a hint of surprise showing in his rugged features at Vidhatri’s knowledge. “To be clear, TBQ is how those smart [Mage] and [Scholar] types explain why creatures always seem to adapt to what’s around them. Like how giant worms living underground can grow skin made of crystals and manipulate the earth while monsters in forests sometimes start looking like trees or learn to control plants. It's also why our humans are darker and better at handling the Qahtani Desert sun than the ones over in Eldamir.”

Rizok and the rest of the retinue seemed confused at first when they heard Vidhatri’s explanation and then enlightened at the Sergeant’s follow up, but Zareth was a bit less convinced that magic was the only factor.

Now that he’d heard their explanations, Zareth recalled that he had first seen the term Thaumagenic Bioadaption Quotient, and its Nephalan alphabet based acronym, while reading an academic book on magical biology which he’d purchased from House Vhelan.

It referenced a unique magical phenomenon in which the people or creatures of this world became gradually and unnaturally changed by the magic of the area they lived in.

Zareth hadn’t recognized the term at first because he’d just ended up renaming it ‘Magical Evolution’ in his head. Given that high concentrations of magic very much did change people’s biology in this world, it was difficult to pick out what could be attributed to natural selection and what was the direct result of magical influence.

Still, he was quite interested in learning what TBQ had to do with these unusually pale ogres and encouraged the Sergeant to continue answering Vidhatri’s question.

“Sir, it's related because we ogres happen to possess the highest TBQ of any sapient race,” said Sergeant Grunlok, his shoulders tense and uncomfortable as he offered an explanation. “This means that magic mutates our body far quicker and more deeply than anyone else. I’ll spare you the tedious history of it all, but the important part of it is that the Gruvulk favor heavily exploiting this phenomenon while we Borvulk do not. The Brovulk separated from the rest of our kin to settle in isolated areas thick with their chosen varieties of magic, while we prefer to live among other civilized races. Our… differences in philosophy mean that we generally don’t get along.”

Zareth winced as the Sergeant finished his explanation, anticipating that the citizens of Jabal-Alma might be a tad bit more difficult to get along with than expected. Any group that isolated themselves to pursue what sounded like an ideological agenda would naturally be more resistant to outsiders than most.

He doubted that he would have ever been allowed to step foot into Jabal-Alma if not for the whole military occupation thing.

It also sort of explained why the ogres in Tal’Qamar seemed to have so much distaste for physical deformities, and made him wonder why any of them were willing to join his cult.

“Why is that, Sergeant Grunlok? Given that you accepted my offer to augment your body, it doesn’t seem like you have some kind of moral objection to being changed by magic,” Zareth asked curiously, eager to learn more about a populace who would likely one day be under his stewardship.

“It’s different, Sir,” Sergeant Grunlok immediately protested, a faint scowl making his opinion of the comparison clear. “Your abilities are superficial and have few negative consequences, other than making me fit through even fewer doors than I already did. For our people, we are so sensitive to magic that excessive exposure leads to our very essence being altered, causing drastic changes in personality or physical form. These Borvulk are hardly even ogres.”

There was a degree of disdain in the Sergeant’s tone that made Zareth feel uncomfortable and didn’t make much sense from his perspective. The residents of Jabal-Alma may be a bit more slender, have paler skin, and have longer ears, but they were still unmistakably ogres.

Although… now that he gave it some thought, that same description would apply to the differences between humans and elves. Zareth had never actually seen or met an elf, but everything that he had heard suggested that comparing them to humans was simply a creative way of committing suicide.

“I see. Thank you for the information, Sergeant,” said Zareth, deciding that he would reserve judgment on the topic until he learned more. “I only have a few more questions. Do you know what kind of magic these people expose themselves to? Also, do you think any of the side effects related to their absorption of magic could be the cause of the unusual number of sickly people we saw in the hospital?”

Zareth wasn’t asking that question baselessly, given what he could sense from them in the Etherveil. Ever since he had acquired [Ether Attunement], he had gotten used to constantly feeling the ebb and flow of magical energies around him, but Jabal-Alma felt like a complete void in the Etherveil from the moment he had descended into the settlement.

The only source of Ether that he could sense came from the locals, but even they felt… wrong and fake in a way that was difficult to describe. The worst of these was the sickly ogres that he’d studied with [Eye of Cerebon] as he passed by them in the hospital.

“I don’t know much about these people other than that they worship the Conclave’s twin gods, Nuriel and Amareal, so I would guess that they prefer magic related to their domains,” Sergeant Grunlok said with a careless shrug. “If so, you’re going to have a hard time convincing them to turn away from the Conclave. As for your other question, it’d depend on a lot of factors. I’d recommend that you talk about it with whichever unfortunate officer High Command decided to assign to this ancestor forsaken hole in the ground.”

Zareth fell into a thoughtful silence after thanking Grunlok for sharing what he knew. Nuriel and Amareal were the Gods of Restoration and Degradation respectively, but he strangely couldn’t sense any exceptionally strong devotion from the residents. That conflicted with all the reports he’d read from High Command about Jabal-Alma, who were supposed to be quite loyal to the Conclave.

Zareth made a mental note to suggest that High Command include attachees with [Devotion Perception] whenever they send people to survey new settlements.

It was in his interest to learn as much as he could and fix whatever problem Jabal-Alma was dealing with in a way that hopefully got him on their good side. Not only did he need their help in finding the Nephalan ruins and discovering the source of the magical mirage disrupting the region, but his life would be much easier if the people already living in his future territory actually liked him.

The sergeant’s suggestion that he speak to the local military overseer was a good one as they had almost certainly learned more since the last time they sent back a report. In fact, it was surprising to him that the overseer hadn’t already sought him out as soon as he had entered Jabal-Alma.

Just as Zareth was about to ask Rizok if he had any idea why that may be the case, he was interrupted by the arrival of an exhausted, gray-haired ogre woman carrying an arm full of crystals.

“Hello, I assume that you must be the [Crystal Speaker]?” Zareth greeted the woman, smiling politely as she walked toward Skaara and began placing crystals around her bed. His smile grew strained after the woman responded with only a tired grunt, but he decided to continue nonetheless. “Do you think that you’ll be able to heal our guide? I don’t mean to question your abilities, but the poison has proven resistant to our best attempts at removing it.”

The elderly ogre let out an aggrieved sigh and looked up at him with clear annoyance, but still took a moment to respond.

“These are the best quality healing crystals in Jabal-Alma, left behind by Lord Nuriel’s highest leveled [Priestess] before you outsiders chased them off to Anket. Your lizardkin friend will be fine. We don’t have many of these crystals left and would be better off using them on our own people, so I hope that you appreciate our generosity.”

Everyone in his retinue bristled at the woman’s disrespectful tone and Vidhatri looked as if she was ready to turn back into a murderous flesh abomination right then and there, but Zareth’s attention was elsewhere.

Specifically, he was trying to figure out why the ogre had just blatantly lied to his face.

While he could sense the kind of Divine Essence that he would come to expect with crystals filled with a God of Restoration’s power, it came with the same kind of inexplicable wrongness that he could perceive in the local Etherveil. That alone wouldn’t normally be enough to convince Zareth that she was lying, but his third eye’s visual acuity revealed a subtle tension and shiftiness in her that practically screamed deception.

Interesting. Just what are these people hiding? Zareth mused as the woman grew increasingly uncomfortable under his gaze. It’s best that I learn more before confronting them, or I risk them just playing dumb and refusing to answer.

“Of course, we’re very grateful for any assistance that you can provide,” Zareth said respectfully, keeping his suspicions well hidden and maintaining a cordial facade. “We understand how much this war has affected everyone in the region and intend to do our best to help ease the burden in whatever ways we can.”

The [Crystal Speaker] seemed suspicious at his agreeable attitude for a moment, but the subtle tension in her expression eased and she nodded stoically.

“Good. I hope you keep that attitude when you meet with our leaders. There are some men outside ready to lead you to Chieftain Murog and the other Elders. I hear they’re having a big argument with the representatives sent by your military, so it’d be best not to keep them waiting.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to stay a moment and watch the process. It would be a burden off my shoulders to know that Skaara will be okay,” said Zareth, only partially truthful. While verifying Skaara’s recovery would be nice, his genuine motivation was to see if he could discern anything about the true nature of the crystals.

He saw out of the corner of his eye as Rizok glanced at him with clear suspicion, but paid it little mind.

Despite her reluctance, the [Crystal Speaker] didn’t have any reasonable excuse to deny him and finally gave a curt nod. “Very well, but don’t interrupt me, or I’ll call for someone to show you out.”

After Zareth and his retinue acknowledged her warning, she turned her attention back to Skaara and finally began her healing ritual. The [Crystal Speaker] closed her eyes and started to chant softly in a language that Zareth didn't recognize, her hands hovering over the crystals as they began to glow with a soft, pulsating light. The light flowed from the crystals and into Skaara, enveloping her in a shimmering aura that was both beautiful and, to Zareth's attuned senses, oddly disconcerting.

At first, it carried the same nearly overpowering potency he associated with Divine Essence, but the energy gradually began to shift as soon as it left the crystals. It only took a few moments of concentrated observation for Zareth to confirm that the [Crystal Speaker] had indeed lied and that Skaara was not being healed by Divine Essence.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Rather, the crystals seemed to contain healing-attributed Ether that was being concealed by some kind of magical obfuscation. He had likely noticed only because [Eye of Cerebon] specialized in seeing through illusions.

The only question was why?

Anyone aware of how much of Tal’Qamar’s economy depended upon the harvesting of Sunstones knew exactly how valuable objects capable of storing Ether were. Jabal-Alma could be one of the richest cities in the region if his assessment was correct and these crystals behaved the same way as Sunstones.

Zareth felt a surge of excitement and greed rise within him before he forcefully suppressed it.

The fact that the locals had gone to such lengths to conceal the true nature of these crystals meant that there was a good reason why they weren’t selling them and becoming filthy rich. Perhaps they were simply too worried about attracting attention too dangerous for them to handle, but they shouldn’t have found it difficult to find a sponsor willing to provide security in exchange for a share of the profits.

Even the Conclave, as corrupt as they may have been while ruling Tal’Qamar, had allowed the Desharin to keep most of the gold they earned from harvesting Sunstones. They understood the benefits of stability and not ruining a profitable arrangement.

I wonder how they managed to hide this from the Conclave and their gods, Zareth wondered, impressed at the ingenuity and daring of the residents of Jabal-Alma. I’ll have to tread carefully. This situation could become dangerous if handled incorrectly, given how badly outnumbered we are and how isolated this place is by the mirage…

Zareth continued to consider the situation until Skaara began to show signs of recovery, her shallow breaths becoming deep and even. After both he and Vidhatri verified that the poison within her body was being neutralized, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. The [Crystal Speaker] was quick to inform him that it would take a few weeks before Skaara would fully recover, but the immediate danger had passed.

“That was a nasty magical poison, most likely made by a high-level [Poisoner] or a specialized [Alchemist]. It flares up in response to healing magic and will need careful handling. Whoever ambushed you really wanted your friend dead, and she would be if you hadn’t made it here in time.”

The result was bittersweet. It was good that Skaara would survive, of course, but the ambushers had succeeded in trapping him in Jabal-Alma until such a time that she made a full recovery or until High Command sent someone else capable of navigating through the mirage. Given how influential the Great Houses were, he had no doubt that there would be plenty of ‘accidents’ and ‘complications’ which delayed their arrival.

For that and for the two soldiers who had given their lives to protect him, Zareth silently swore to himself that House Khysar would pay a price for their actions.

Once he finished asking the [Crystal Speaker] a few more questions about Skaara’s treatment, Zareth began making his way out of the hospital with the intention of meeting Jabal-Alma’s leaders. Just as he had been told, there was a pair of guards waiting for them with impatient expressions. He was told that his retinue would be brought to the same lodgings assigned to the other representatives sent by High Command. Zareth had no issue with this, but he requested for Vidhatri and Rizok to stay with him. The guards only agreed after a short argument.

The three of them were then escorted through the streets of Jabal-Alma until they reached the other side of the cenote and the most densely populated area of the settlement. They were treated to curious glances by the local ogres, but the guards kept them moving briskly through the throng until they arrived at a large, carved out chamber similar to the hospital entrance. He’d expected at first that one of the large wooden buildings surrounding the settlement’s water supply would serve as their center of power, but it became clear why they chose the underground chamber as soon as they stepped inside.

The architecture of Jabal-Alma reminded Zareth distinctly of the underground city he had seen while traveling through the mirage during his trip to the city. The ogres had managed to carve a surprisingly sophisticated system of tunnels and chambers that allowed them to greatly expand the space they could utilize for their settlement. That being said, it was nowhere near as advanced as the ancient, sprawling underground city he had glimpsed through the mirage.

However, the chamber that they had just stepped into was still quite impressive. It was more expansive than the already large hospital area and had several statues of heroic looking ogres adorned around the chamber. There were many people walking through tunnels and passageways, each moving with a sense of urgency, and even staircases leading to upper levels that hinted at a complexity to the settlement that Zareth hadn’t really anticipated.

Though, perhaps that expectation wasn’t fair given the existence of [Geomancers] and [Masons].

It was quite the sight, ruined only by the sound of angry shouting emanating from deeper into the chamber. The residents of Jabal-Alma were seemingly unconcerned with keeping their leader’s meeting confidential because there were no privacy wards or Skills of any kind in place. It wasn’t long before Zareth’s enhanced senses managed to pick out words as the guards led them toward the source of the commotion.

“More than a dozen of my soldiers are missing to those cursed tunnels! Sent to aid this tiny little village, yet you still have the audacity to refuse to repay the Southern Legion in kind. Do you truly fear us so little, or is it that you value your own lives so poorly?”

“What you are asking for cannot be given, outsider! Not while Lord Amareal’s curse still afflicts our people. If you cannot understand that, then it is you who seeks an early grave!”

“Blatant lies! Do you take me for a fool?!”

Zareth shared a concerned glance with Rizok as the argument continued to escalate, voices overlapping while accusations flew and tempers flared. Thankfully, it momentarily paused when they finally stepped into the large, domed chamber furnished simply with a long table, several chairs, and a few decorative banners hanging from the ceiling with symbols that he didn’t recognize.

The short reprieve gave him an opportunity to take in the room and study the people who sounded as if they were seconds away from tearing out each other’s throats.

Sitting at the very end of the table, Chieftain Murog looked exactly like Zareth had imagined he would, large and muscular even for an ogre with a presence that dominated the room. He wore a set of dark leather attire that seemed both practical and designed to show off the many scars and tattoos on his pale skin. The unique features that separated the ogres of Jabal-Alma from those in Tal’Qamar seemed even more pronounced in the chieftain, with skin so pale that it was nearly translucent and eyes that glowed dimly with Ether.

In fact, that seemed to be the case with the other ogres sitting to his side. This implied that the higher-ranking members of the Jabal-Alma’s society had better access to whatever kind of magic that shaped their community.

Zareth wondered how that worked, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on those thoughts. Turning his attention to the other side of the long table, Zareth was somewhat surprised to see that the representative sent by High Command was a grizzled, middle-aged human man rather than a naga. His crimson cloak had a golden trim that marked him as an officer of Tal’Qamar's military and he stood with an air of authority.

Both the officer and the aides at his side wore expressions of frustration and anger, though an intriguing glimmer of relief flashed through the human officer’s eyes when he noticed Zareth and his party entering the chamber.

“I’d ask who you are, but I doubt that there are many three-eyed humans traveling alongside Master Sergeant Rizok in the middle of nowhere,” the officer said, his tone wry as he nodded respectfully to both Zareth and Rizok while gesturing to a few empty seats. “I apologize for not meeting you when your party arrived, but as you can see we’ve been… preoccupied. I am Major Idris of the Southern Legion, and it's good to see that you’ve reached Jabal-Alma safely, Apostle Zareth. Or perhaps you would prefer to be referred to by your prospective title, Lord-Marshal?”

Lord-Marshal?

“Lord-Marshal? This is the one who you claim your superiors intend to give these lands?” Chieftain Murog said before Zareth could understand what was happening, tone surprised as the ogre turned to study him with an incredulous expression. “He looks barely more than a babe, yet you presume him strong enough to lead us? Ridiculous.”

“You should remember why we are able to make such presumptions in the first place, Chieftain,” said Major Idris, his mouth twisting into a sneer as he interrupted Zareth before he could offer a response. “We offer your people protection from the Conclave and have even agreed to exempt you from the same taxes for half a decade, yet you offer lies and excuses when the Southern Legion makes even the most basic of requests. Even if you feel no shame behaving so dishonorably with me, you should be very concerned with offending the Lord-Marshal in the same way. General Nasrith will not tolerate such disrespect to someone who holds his favor.”

“Is that a threat?” Chieftain Murog growled, his expression growing furious.

“I thought that was obvious. Do I need to use smaller words?” said Major Idris as he glared defiantly at the Chieftain.

Although Zareth barely even understood what everyone was arguing about, he could tell that the situation was threatening to spiral out of control. He needed to intervene and fix this, but in a way that preferably didn’t ruin his relationship with the Southern Legion or Jabal-Alma before he could even figure out what was going on.

“Rather than judging my capabilities from my appearance or making assumptions on what would and would not offend me, I would prefer if we spoke to each other like adults and leaders,” Zareth said loudly, his voice firm as it cut through the yelling. “I will not stand here and be treated like a tool in an argument that nobody seems interested in explaining to me.”

The chamber was quiet for several moments as everyone in the chamber turned their attention to Zareth, who forced himself to stand straight and unbothered under their scrutiny. He didn’t need [Leadership] to know that this was a crowd that would look down on any kind of perceived weakness.

Eventually, both Chieftain Murog and Major Idris seemed to relent as the tension in the chamber simmered down a notch, even if it was still clearly present.

“Good. We can start with an explanation about the Southern Legion’s business in Jabal-Alma, after you explain why you chose to refer to me as Lord-Marshal,” said Zareth as he finally took a seat and turned toward Major Idris. Vidhatri and Rizok went to stand at the edges of the room with the guards. “It was my understanding that fiefdoms would be distributed after the war concluded, and not before.”

He was most upset about that as he didn’t want his relationship with the locals to be sabotaged before it could begin to develop.

This wasn’t the appropriate place to say it, but it also surprised him that the Major used ‘Lord-Marshal’ when the Great Houses were pushing for noble titles similar to that used in Eldami. In a world where culture and titles often affected the Classes offered by the System, these kinds of distinctions carried a lot of weight.

It certainly implied a lot about how willing General Nasrith was to act against the Great Houses’ interests and made Zareth worried that there was trouble brewing in the background.

“As there have yet to be any other claimants in this area, I felt it appropriate to address you with the respect your prospective position warrants and to inform these people that they should do the same,” Major Idris said unapologetically. “Regarding the Southern Legion’s interests in Jabal-Alma, it’s quite simple. Our front against Anket is proving more difficult to hold than expected and this settlement needs to be used as a staging area for reinforcements and supplies, which the Chieftain is refusing to allow.”

It was obvious to everyone listening that the man had just wanted to use the threat of Zareth’s future authority to strengthen his negotiating position, but that remained unsaid.

Chieftain Murog looked as if he wanted to start yelling again, so Zareth interjected before that could happen. He didn’t want the conversation to get pulled back off track.

“I was told that the Southern Legion’s defensive position was near unassailable. What went wrong?” Zareth said as he glanced toward Rizok, who looked just as taken aback as he felt. “Also, what were you talking about when you said your soldiers were disappearing into tunnels and you referenced Amareal?”

“It was unassailable, until those damned worshipers of Suhail caused the desert sun to turn our position into a fucking inferno,” Major Idris growled, his frustration directed at someone other than the ogres for the first time since the discussion began. “The Southern Legion is the best defensive force on Valandor, and we’ll hold off anyone on the battlefield, but even we can’t last without water! Jabal-Alma’s cenote is the best source of water in the region, and we need to set up a supply chain if we don’t want Anket to push the lines back to Tal’Hadin! As for your other questions, you’re better off hearing the ogres explain that themselves.”

If the situation near Anket was truly as dire as Major Idris implied, then Zareth could forgive some of his actions to convince Jabal-Alma to fall in line. He had no doubt that the Southern Legion would have simply conquered the settlement outright if not for the mirage and potential manpower issues on the frontlines.

Zareth resolved to pay particularly close attention to the Chieftain and his advisors as he prompted them to give their explanation for their objections. He was already aware about one thing that Jabal-Alma was attempting to hide from outsiders, and he didn’t want anything else to slip his notice.

“Our people relied deeply on the churches of Lord Nuriel and Lord Amareal before your war forced the Conclave’s servants to flee to Anket,” Chieftain Murog began, not-so-subtly laying the blame for Jabal-Alma’s current situation at their feet. “The God of Restoration blessed us by seeding the vast underground caverns connected to Jabal-Alma with his healing crystals, from which we absorb and feed off their divine power. However, it was only with the aid of the God of Degradation that we were actually able to safely navigate through the many dangers within.”

Zareth couldn’t help but feel impressed by the Chieftain’s fabricated story and how it stood up to scrutiny at first glance. [Devotion Perception] revealed that he and advisors seemed as faithful to the twin gods as their story would imply, and he had no doubt that one of Major Idris’ aides had a variant of [Detect Truth] active throughout the explanation.

“What about the curse? And how does this relate to the Southern Legion’s request?” asked Zareth, keeping his suspicions hidden.

“I’m told that you brought one of your own to be treated, which means that you have already seen the many sickly ogres in our place of healing,” said Chieftain Murog, a flash of what looked like genuine grief flashing through his eyes. “This is Lord Amareal’s punishment for our treachery and can only be cured with Lord Nuriel’s crystals. I’ve had no choice but to prohibit the Southern Legion from Jabal-Alma lest they fall victim to the curse while sending brave warriors out into the tunnels in search of a source of crystals large enough to rectify this situation. This unfortunate reality upsets Major Idris.”

“I’ve said time and time again that the Southern Legion is willing to take that risk,” Major Idris immediately responded, hands balled into fists at his side. “We’re already at war with the Conclave. Why would we fear what their gods could potentially do when we’re being roasted alive in the desert? You’re clearly just making excuses to support your gods!”

“I see. I assume that these tunnels are filled with all kinds of life-threatening dangers, and you attempted to send soldiers to directly resolve this situation by finding these crystals?” Zareth asked, struggling to keep his expression neutral.

“Aye. Twelve veteran combatants and the only high-level [Scout] that the Southern Legion could afford to spare to guide them,” said Major Idris, before going on to explain the kinds of dangers that could be expected in the tunnels.

Unusually powerful creatures, strange magical anomalies, and a lack of any rigorous maps of the tunnels. But the greatest danger seemed to be pervasive magical darkness of unknown origin that made it nearly impossible to navigate the ever twisting tunnels without getting lost.

Amareal’s [Priests] apparently used their god’s power to ‘degrade’ the darkness enough for people to travel the tunnels, according to Chieftain Murog. Everything else could be dealt with by a powerful and well prepared group, but nobody had found any other means of seeing through the darkness.

“It’s a shame that so many brave warriors were lost to the depths,” said Chieftain Murog, his face the picture of a regretful leader solemnly remembering the fallen. After a moment, he turned to Zareth with a considering expression. “But perhaps you may succeed in their stead. I’ve been told that your retinue is quite capable, and there are many in Jabal-Alma who would be endlessly grateful for your assistance. It may even be enough to convince them that you’ll govern these lands better than the Conclave.”

Zareth felt a flash of intense anger that he only barely prevented from showing on his face. Not only at the Chieftain for his attempted manipulation, but also at himself because he had no doubt that he would have fallen for it if he didn’t already know healing crystals had nothing to do with Nuriel.

He could easily imagine himself being presented with an opportunity to ingratiate himself to his future subjects and agreeing without further thought. Especially when that fed the narrative of a relatively small settlement suffering under the thumb of the Conclave’s gods, which would naturally make it child’s play to recruit here once he returned as their savior.

But that wasn’t what was being offered to him.

Instead, Chieftain Murog had already directed thirteen soldiers to their deaths with false stories for unknown reasons and was attempting to do the same to him. Oh, he had no doubt that parts of the story were true and the locals might have a good reason for their deception, but that didn’t change the fact that Chieftain Murag was responsible for the deaths of everyone they sent into danger under false pretenses.

And he likely would have successfully done the same to Zareth and his retinue if not for [Eye of Cerebon] and its ability to see through illusions.

Any inclination of cooperating and earning the respect of Jabal-Alma was immediately discarded from his mind as Zareth's thoughts raced to find the best path forward. He still couldn’t afford to directly call out the Chieftain on his lies, not without knowing the full extent of Jabal-Alma's secrets and the potential repercussions of such an accusation. However, he couldn't simply accept the situation as presented either.

It was only when his thoughts drifted to how he discovered Jabal-Alma’s deception in the first place that a plan began to form in his mind.

“Unfortunately, I’m no Adventurer. It wouldn’t feel right forcing my retinue to protect someone as weak as me while dragging them into danger,” said Zareth, refusing the Chieftain’s suggestion as diplomatically as possible before turning to Major Idris. “You said that the magical darkness is the primary obstacle in navigating the tunnels and finding the crystals that Jabal-Alma requires, correct? If I had a means of allowing a person to see through this darkness, then how much would that help the situation?”

“Considerably. This matter is important enough that the Southern Legion would redirect significant resources and manpower to support such an endeavor if proved feasible,” said Major Idris, both he and his aides perking up as their expressions grew hopeful. “Is this something that you’re able to provide, Apostle Zareth?”

“I can’t say for certain until I’ve actually tried, but almost certainly,” Zareth said confidently, a small smile growing on his face as his plans began to seem more realistic. “[Eye of Cerebon] was awarded to me by my god. If Amareal’s [Priests] could affect it, then I sincerely doubt that the magical darkness is strong enough to withstand its penetrative gaze. Not only that, but I can share it with other people…”

Zareth went on to explain how [Eye of Cerebon] functioned to everyone gathered, though he naturally kept a few… important details to himself. It was fortunate that he had already thoroughly tested the Skill by implanting the eye into a few willing members of the cult. Otherwise, he would have had no idea that it could do more than serve as a makeshift camera and actually allowed those who possessed it to share the same level of perception he enjoyed.

The longer he talked, the more Major Idris and his aides seemed to grow excited while Chieftain Murog and the other ogres began showing subtle signs of unease. Even if he couldn’t see their every microexpression and was already aware of their deceit, Zareth would have noticed their discomfort.

Major Idris seemed disgusted for a moment when Zareth offered to give him an [Eye of Cerebon] of his own as a demonstration, but the officer’s practicality soon overcame his revulsion. One wet plop and a few uncomfortable moments of grafting Zareth’s freshly removed third eye into the Major’s forehead later, and the atmosphere in the chamber shifted dramatically.

Major Idris’ initial discomfort was quickly replaced by a look of sheer astonishment as he adjusted to the new perception granted by the eye.

“This... this is remarkable,” Major Idris muttered, all three of his eyes scanning the room in a way that suggested he was seeing it in a completely new light. "I can see the Ether flow, the smallest features along the walls, and quick movements easily enough that it feels as if I just drank an Agility Potion! The Southern Legion will definitely agree to send a new round of personnel into the tunnels with this kind of advantage. Although, we will demand that Jabal-Alma commits to allowing us access to their cenote so long we solve their little crystal problem.”

Zareth was more than satisfied with that arrangement. He had no doubt that he would be able to learn more about Jabal-Alma’s secrets once the Southern Legion ventured into the tunnels.

Something dark flashed through the Chieftain’s expression so quickly that Zareth almost thought he imagined it before the ogre traded a few meaningful glances with his advisors.

“That… won’t be necessary. So long as your [Eye of Cerebon] works as you claim, our own warriors will be sufficient to secure the tunnels and find what we need,” Chieftain Murog, his voice calm but unyielding as he offered Major Idris a conciliatory expression. “You’ve already lost several of your soldiers while attempting to help my people, and it would dishonor us to see any more lives lost on our behalf. Let our warriors shoulder this burden.”

Major Idris’ expression grew suspicious, but Zareth struggled not to grin like a predator scenting prey. Not only was the Chieftain’s refusal extraordinarily telling, a clear sign that there was indeed something in those tunnels that these people desperately wanted to keep hidden, but they had just given him the perfect means to figure out what it was.

“That’s a very generous offer, Chieftain Murog, and I see no reason why we shouldn’t accept given the several weeks it would no doubt take for the Southern Legion to mobilize another expedition and transfer them to Jabal-Alma,” said Zareth, his voice as smooth and grateful as he could manage. “It would make perfect sense to send your warriors in there during that time, and hopefully resolve the situation swiftly. I can’t say just how much it pleases me to know that you and the rest of your people are so committed to cooperating with us, despite the difficult circumstances.”

Zareth was worried for a moment that he had laid it on a bit too thick when he saw a flash of doubt and unease cross Chieftain Murog’s face. However, the Chieftain quickly masked his reaction and nodded curtly in agreement.

Major Idris didn’t seem entirely enthused by the arrangement, but he didn’t have any reason to complain and the promise of the Southern Legion being allowed to resolve the situation if the ogre warriors failed quelled any protests.

The next hour of discussion was far less tense than it had been when Zareth first entered the chamber, aside from a subtle undercurrent of apprehension amongst the ogres. Vidhatri and Rizok both sent him suspicious glances every once in a while, but Zareth merely gestured for them to drop the matter until they were private.

The talks revolved around matters such as logistics, resource allocation, and establishing a realistic timeline for the expedition, but he barely gave those things any attention. After all, most of his focus was on holding back his laughter at the fact that Chieftain Murog unknowingly agreed to have his most trusted warriors be implanted with what were effectively cameras that only Zareth could access.

If he had any doubts before that he would sniff out all of Jabal-Alma’s secrets, he now had none.

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