Chapter 714 - Upheaval

The repercussions of Terra’s death, which followed closely on the heels of Simeon’s demise, echoed throughout the universe.  From everything Zeke had been told, the Nexus was awash with rumors as to who would come next.  Some believed he would attack Aja.  Others, Oda.  Still others thought he’d go straight to the top and target Shar Maelaine. 

It surprised him to learn that everyone seemed to know that the enmity with the latter was a well known detail.  Not everyone was aware of the reasons behind it, but most knew that there was a good deal of hatred between them. 

“She’s building her forces,” said Jasper.  He still hadn’t ascended, but he served a vital function within the tower – that of spymaster.  Of course, he referred to himself as the head of information services, but everyone knew the truth.  He’d also been responsible for quite a few assassinations over the years. 

As for his personal development, the dark elf had reached the peak of the realm, but he had chosen to remain behind because, according to him, someone had to be the responsible one.  He did lament that it’d fallen to him, though.  Loudly, and without ceasing, according to Pudge’s stories. 

“I thought we conquered them,” Zeke said.  “The Radiant Host –”

“Was just one of many armies under her banner,” Jasper stated, leaning back, his arm draped over the back of the chair.  Others sat around the conference table, but they didn’t interrupt as he continued, “There are two other continents, one of which is entirely ruled by Shar Maelaine’s subjects.  And that’s not even considering the ones that escaped.”

“They’re like cockroaches,” Tucker interjected, his elbows on the table.  “You kill one, and another skitters away into the darkness.  There’s been a bounty on them for years, but we only control about a quarter of the world.  The rest is under her.”

“All of it?” asked Zeke.

“One way or another.  Sure, most are just vassal states, but everyone knows where their real orders come from.”

“Not even considering the Mortal Realm,” Jasper added.  “We have no presence down there, but she’s got most of the realm under her thumb.  Each person doesn’t produce much in the way of divine energy, but there are so damned many of them that it adds up pretty quickly.  It’s why she’s the strongest god around.”

“Except the Waymaster,” Zeke countered.

“Except him.”

Of course, that didn’t  make much sense.  As far as Zeke could tell, the Waymaster didn’t have worshippers.  The way he understood it, that meant the greater god should have been too weak to hold his position.  But Zeke had felt the Waymaster’s power, and it far exceeded anything else he’d ever felt – bar the eldritch creature trapped within the Framework or the Creator himself. 

One day, he’d have to ask the Waymaster about it.

For now, he could only shake his head in disappointment.  “Do we have any way to counter the build-up of her worshippers?”

“Besides killing them all?  No.  And that’s not possible anyway.  Even if we scoured the entire Eternal Realm, she’d still have plenty of worshippers in the Mortal Realm.”

Zeke let out a sigh.  “Any ideas?”

“I have been running counter propaganda for years.  There is some civil unrest in cities controlled by her worshippers, but I fear it’s too little to make a difference,” Jasper stated. 

“And we don’t have the military capability to just invade and kill them?” Zeke asked, glancing at Silik.

“We do not.  Our focus has been to ascend as many people as possible,” the kobold general answered.  “If we’d left more behind…”

“No.  I get it.  You made the right choice.  Priorities are up here,” Zeke acknowledged.  Without peak fighters, the army’s capacity to sustain an invasion – especially at the scale suggested – was severely hampered.  “So, what do we do about her?”

“We’re working on it,” Oberon said.  “The dark elf is not the only one with an intelligence network.  My faeries are everywhere.  But I suggest we wait until we have more information before we attack the Sun Goddess.  She has allied herself with powerful creatures, and she will not go down as easily as the others.”

“Terra did not go down easily,” Zeke stated.

“In comparison, he did,” Oberon pointed out.  “In fact, you should expect things to become even more difficult going forward.  Oda and Aja are more than a single step above Terra.  Fighting either one will be a nightmare.”

“No convenient temples to destroy?”

Oberon shook his head.  “No.  Nor can we easily kill their followers.  Almost all of elvenkind worship Aja.  They have no presence in the Mortal Realm, but there is an entire nation of elves in the Eternal Realm.  In addition, they have a significant presence in this plane.  You will not weaken her as she did Terra.”

“What about Oda?”

“Even worse.  He is to that side of reality as Shar Maelaine is to ours.  He has worshippers in every realm.  The only reason he is not more powerful than the Sun Goddess is because his followers have a tendency to kill one another,” Oberon explained.  “He is more powerful than his sister.”

Zeke leaned forward, then looked at Jasper.  “We know where the elves are, right?”

“Most.”

“Can we get armies there?” Zeke asked.

Jasper shook his head.  “Not without hardship.  We will lose ground in some of our other conflicts,” he answered. 

“But we could do it.”

Jasper shrugged.  “We could.  Taking them will be brutal and bloody, though.  Are you prepared for that?”

“War is always brutal,” Zeke answered.  He glanced at Silik.  “Draft a plan of attack.  The goal is not to take land.  We don’t care about resources.  Our only aim is to kill as many elves as possible.”

“Are you sure about this?” asked Jasper.  “This will –”

“I have to be certain.  The greater gods must die.  I know that down to my core,” Zeke said.  “Do I want a bunch of innocent people to die?  No.  Of course not.  But saving reality comes with a price that I have to be willing to pay.”

It was Kianma that spoke up next.  The spiritweaver’s voice was soft, but it carried through the room.  “The elves deserve what they get.  They have a long history of killing anyone who offends them.  They drove the dwarves of Min Ferelik to demonic influences.  They killed or enslaved whole generations of dryads.  We have yet to go to war with them, but only because they know they cannot defeat us.  This invasion will not be as unpopular as you may think,” she said, staring a hole in Jasper.

“It’s wholesale slaughter.”

“It’s war, and a justified one,” she countered.

Silik raised his voice.  “We are Ak-toh’s spear.  We go where he points us.”

Jasper abruptly stood.  “I will not stand idly by and sanction the unprovoked slaughter of –”

“Enough!” Zeke shouted, slapping his hand against the table.  Even though he’d tried to control his strength, the surface nearly cracked beneath the blow.  Everyone went silent, and Zeke once again said, “Enough.”

“Zeke…”

“I understand your issues, Jasper.  If the stakes weren’t so high, I would even agree with you.”

“But you don’t.”

“I can’t.”

“Where do you draw the line, then?  When does the greater good not justify the means?  How many innocent people need to die before it tips the balance into atrocity?” Jasper demanded.  “Ten thousand?  A million?  Billions?”

“I’m fighting for the fate of our reality.”

“And what does it matter if you leave a trail of bodies behind?” Jasper asked.  “Morality –”

“Morality is a social construct,” came a disembodied voice everyone there recognized as belonging to Eveline.  “There is no right and wrong.  Only means and ends.”

“Not now, Eveline,” Zeke said.  “My point is that I need to kill Aja.”

“To save our reality,” supplied Jasper.  “You say that, but what does it even mean?”

“It means that the greater gods perpetuate a system that is bound to fail, and they’ve been doing it for eons,” stated Oberon.  “The cracks are there for anyone to see them.  They…we know it, too.  We can see it as well as anyone else.  Believe me – every single one of them knows exactly what’s happening.  They realize that they’re riding a wave that will end with everyone being snuffed out of existence.  And yet, they choose to do nothing because they fear what happens if they ascend to The End and fail.”

“Is that why you haven’t gone?” asked Jasper.

“It is,” Oberon answered without hesitation. “I make no other excuses.  I have not gone because I am afraid to die.  Or I fear what comes next.  The unknown beckons, and I turn away in terror.  The others are the same, choosing to remain in this small pond when an ocean awaits.  Here, we are greater gods.  There are no challenges to our power.  Not really.  But up there?  Footsoldiers in a neverending war.  They…we chose this fate.  Make no mistake.  We did this to ourselves.  We deserve it.”

“And you will sacrifice yourself, I’m sure.”

“Of course.  Now or later, it makes no difference.  I will not survive this endeavor.  One way or another, I will meet my fate.  I leave it up to Zeke to decide when that will happen,” Oberon answered without a moment’s hesitation.  “My contemporaries will not go so quietly.  They will kick and scream, claw and fight – they will resist at every turn, even going so far as to sacrifice their followers if it gives them even a chance to win.”

“There is no good side here, Jasper,” Zeke said.

“Shouldn’t there be?” the dark elf countered. 

Zeke did not have an answer to that question.  Or maybe he just didn’t want to give it voice.  The fact was that there should have been an unquestionably moral choice.  But that wasn’t how the world worked, and it wasn’t how wars were fought.  It certainly wasn’t how wars were won. 

Jasper sighed.  “I won’t participate in this,” he said.  “If that means…I don’t know what it means, but I can’t be a part of unprovoked slaughter.”

“I understand.  You may go,” Zeke responded. 

For a moment, Jasper looked surprised.  Then, as he rose and left the room, he bore a resigned look upon his face.  If it had been anyone else, Zeke might’ve made certain that he was followed.  Once the war machine got moving, there would be no stopping it, but a word in the wrong ear might cost his forces dearly.

After Jasper was gone, they got down to the business of planning.  As they outlined the intended attacks, Zeke was impressed with just how much things had changed.  The armies he could bring to bear in the Ethereal Realm were impressive, but they were just a fraction of the total might of the Crimson Tower.  He could muster at least ten times as many fighters in the Ethereal Realm. 

Many were little more than cannon fodder.  Weak and unimpressive.  They would never ascend.  Yet, they could assist the effort in the Eternal Realm. 

Just as impressive was the degree to which they’d already spread across the world.  Almost an entire continent lay under their sway, and they had footholds on the others as well.  Those would be the beachheads for their invasions. 

“Do we have any notion of potential casualties?” he asked mid-way through the planning session.

“Millions,” Silik stated.  “If everything goes according to plan – which it will not, to be clear – we will lose at least fifteen percent of our forces.  If things go horribly, that number could grow past fifty percent.  Even if everything goes wrong, we will not lose much more than that, though.  Our redundancies and planning will prevent that.”

Millions.

It was a staggering number.  And yet, Zeke knew that they would pay that price willingly.  The kobolds didn’t just worship him.  To them, he was their savior.  A god.  The one handpicked by their long-dead mother. 

They would charge headlong into hell if he ordered them to.

“Continue planning,” he said.  “Let me know when everything is ready.”

“Yes, Ak-toh,” Silik said.

After that, Zeke left them to their own devices, retreating to his manor and, pointedly, to Talia, who welcomed him with open arms.