Chapter 181

After healing the people, and delivering his speech, Varrus had entered the war room with a steely complexion. 

Upon his entrance, he noticed Rho'dan standing nearby. The members of the Convocation, however, were not present. 

Varrus had sent out a message to gather, and discuss their next step, yet it appeared he was the first to arrive. 

To his surprise, a section leading to a side chamber had been cordoned off, and was blocked by a sea of Royal Guardsmen. 

It seemed he could confront Kael in private before the meeting began in earnest. 

Striding forth, Varrus was flanked by Syra and Rho'dan. 

“Where is the King?” Varrus demanded of the soldiers. 

“Please go ahead, First Seat. Knight Lord Dranarus is waiting for you. You may come as well, Lady Vandercross, but no other.” A guard replied, and shifted to the side, providing an opening to the room. 

Varrus didn't waste any more time with words, and strode forward. 

Thinking up a thousand inflammatory words, and a few creative insults, Varrus was about to hurl a verbal deluge upon the young King when he saw an emaciated figure within a bed. 

Standing by the bedside was Dranarus, and Jan'alai. 

The ever braggadocious Forest Troll had her shoulders slumped, and was holding his hand gently. 

Grim faced, Dranarus had been staring silently at the floor until they arrived. 

All anger at Kael disappeared in the wind at this imagery. 

It was like watching a relative do something stupid, and causing a bad car crash while ogling a girl.You hated them for doing something so costly and stupid, but at the end of the day, all you wanted was their safety. 

Staying mad at someone you loved like a brother over something stupid wasn't worth it when he was wasting away like a mummy. 

“Has Kael suffered some curse? What happened?” Varrus asked in concern. 

Moving so fast, he practically teleported, Varrus stepped to Kael’s side, and got a good look at him. 

His hair was faded, and his skin saggy, like an old grape. 

This was not the man he knew. 

Without waiting for Dranarus's reply, he cast Infinite Light on Kael, with the hopes of rejuvenating him. 

The giant influx of healing energies seemed to do something, and Kael's skin began to return to normal. As soon as Kael looked healthy, Varrus cut his spell, only to discover something horrible. 

Kael's skin wilted the second it wasn't being propped up by Varrus's magic! 

Biting his lower lip, Varrus imagined that what was going on had to be a curse. 

Swapping to Dispel Magic, Varrus shot the blue spell at Kael with high hopes. 

Yet when nothing happened, Varrus sucked in a harsh breath. 

Few things could resist Dispel Magic. 

There were only three instances Varrus was aware of when Dispel Magic did not work. 

When: 

1) Magic of a higher tier was involved

2) Continuous spells being fed mana actively (like a barrier) 

3) When the spell was of the same tier as Varrus, and contained powerful conceptual magic. 

All these thoughts ran through Varrus's mind in a second, each one worrying on their 

As a being capable of working Demigod magic, there was only one tier above his to his knowledge. And curing the curse from a God tier spell was a daunting task, one that Varrus didn't even know where to begin. He prayed this was not the case. 

The second option was much more forgiving. If he could trace the source of the continuous spell, then he could cut it off. 

As for the third option, this was potentially the easiest to cure, as ‘all’ he had to do was find the opposite nature of magic, and override whatever curse was ailing Kael with a ‘super effective’ attribute. 

If Chaos energy was hurting him, use Order, if it was Elemental Fire, use Water. This was the ‘easiest’ thing to identify, and the one Varrus hoped that Kael was suffering from. Due to his vast repertoire of spells, this should be the ailment he had the safest malaise to fix. 

Glancing down at his troubled friend in pity and sadness, Varrus marked down one more sleight amongst many that the Scourge had committed against him. 

Turning to Dranarus with a harsh glare, Varrus wanted answers. How did it come to this?! 

“Explain.”

“...This is the price His Majesty pays for summoning the phoenixes.”

“I don't understand. He had no issue when he defeated Rommath. Yet you say this is no curse by the enemy, but something inflicted upon him from his own companions?!” Varrus stated in shocked disbelief. 

Glaring at Dranarus, Varrus wouldn't allow that shallow response of his to go so easy. He would need a more in depth answer, or else he might get a little violent. 

As if sensing his mood, Syra stepped to his side, and slowly slid her massive black blade off her back, and impaled it into the tiled ground. 

No more words were said from the husband wife pair, but their unblinking eyes, and unsheathed steel communicated their intentions clear as day. 

Dranarus stared at them, seemingly unphased by the transpiring events. However, he did glance at Syra for a few extra seconds, a thoughtful look upon his face. 

“I only allowed you in here, as you are the First Seat, and you have the right to know the Sunstrider family secret so that word does not leak, and threaten the nations’ cohesiveness. That being said, keep your threats of violence to those who fear them. My body and soul are dedicated to His Majesty.” Dranarus sternly rebuked. 

“The right to know what? That the King is in a coma?” 

“Precisely, First Seat. Think about it for a moment, would you? Imagine the chaos if the people were to learn that their leader was not at the reins? During peacetime, schemers and opportunists would seek to advance themselves. During war, the army would lose all morale, defeat is but a surety.” Dranarus explained his position, and began to pace back and forth. 

“You speak as if this is a common occurrence. When will Kael return to normal?” Varrus narrowed his eyes at the man, and asked in a critical tone. 

“Oh, do not blame me, First Seat. I am not the orchestrator of his current condition. Nor should you judge so harshly his decision that left him so wretched. You witnessed the carnage before arriving here, you know what he sacrificed was for the people. He is more King than you'll ever be.” Dranarus remained calmly composed in his speech, yet his words were harsh as he defended Kael. 

“...answer the question. Knight-Lord.” Varrus snapped. 

He was done getting the work around

“His Majesty will be alright. As this is his first time calling upon the phoenix, he shouldn't be asleep for longer than a week…possibly to a year.” Dranarus said in a composed tone, as if he had seen something just like this a thousand times, and was discussing the weather. 

To Varrus, it was as if Dranarus was saying that based on his almanac, tomorrow should have some rain.

“What a shitty power up.” Varrus scowled. 

“Yes, they are quite greedy creatures, yet their power is undeniable. Your father, Vandercross ought to be King. The magic he developed was extraordinary, and his wife a master of warfare. Yet imagine it, a plane of pure conceptual mana. Life, Fire, and Light given form. Its exploration is what gave birth to the name Sunstrider.” Dranarus said in a hushed, awed whisper as he glanced down at Kael lovingly. 

Seeing Dranarus acting like this, Varrus slumped his shoulders, and realized the old guard was being defensive. Rho'dan would act the same if he was in a comatose state too. 

Closing his eyes and softly exhaling, Varrus knew that if he tried, he could cut Kael's connection to the phoenix realm. He could cure his best friend of this ailment. 

But in doing so, would remove Kael's trump card, his very claim to the Sunstrider name and the legitimacy to his crown. 

Looking down at his emaciated friend, Varrus felt pity for him. Pity for Jan'alai. 

Ultimately, Varrus didn't receive any satisfying answers, but that was life. 

Even people like him, with all his incredible power, couldn't fix everything. 

Weakly chuckling to himself, he was reminded once again how fragile the world was. 

Syra held him close for a side hug, and sent him a hopeful, bright smile. 

Nodding back at her, Varrus was reminded of what he fought for. 

Feeling a ping in his pocket from his scrying orb, Varrus suspected it was Rho'dan messaging him about the Convocation gathering. 

“Guard him well.” Varrus said to both Dranarus and Jan'alai, then turned to leave. 

“Fare thee well, First Seat…Princess.” Dranarus softly intoned as the door closed behind them. 

Exiting the side chamber, Varrus returned to the war room, and strode up to the meeting table with his hands behind his back. 

Seated at the table were the leaders of the Convocation, as well as Tess, and Karwl. 

“Good, now that you are here Vandercross, the meeting can begin! We have won the battle for Stratholme. The regional capital of the Eastwald is ours, and the warlords of this region are slain. One third of Lordaeron is under our purview. Congratulations, despite Vandercross. Despite my misgivings, we have achieved another stunning victory.” Tae'thelon said in a congratulatory tone, and conjured everyone a glass of wine. 

“Victory over a city does not mean victory in the field, Headmaster. The land must be secured. Countless Undead roam the forests, hamlets, towns and hills.” Lor'Themar cautioned as he eyed his conjured goblet, refusing to partake. 

“The people are suffering, our losses were great.” Liadrin said, crestfallen. 

“So what do we do, rest and regroup, or strike while the enemy is broken? Since they are dispersed, it will take a lot of manpower to clear out every creek and field.” Koren spoke up. 

“Liadrin is correct, our losses were significant. Before we rush to make a decision, please, let us assess the strength of our army. Here is a folder detailing the numbers, Rho'dan, if you would.” Varrus gestured towards his aide. 

Stepping forward, Rho'dan passed out a document comparing the figures depicting troop deployment numbers before and after. 

[Human: 200,000 -> 148,000

Kobold: 300,000 -> 217,000 

Elf: 110,000 -> 102,000 

Losses by percent: 

Human: 26%

Kobold 27%

Elf: 7%]

Upon reading this figure, several members of the council expressed radically differing views. 

“Hunt them all down, every last one.” Tess blankly replied, the shadows oozed and recoiled around her as if they had a life of their own. 

“A pity more of the mmm, lesser races didn't protect their superiors.” Tae'thelon scoffed between sips of his wine. 

Tess reacted to this insult by drawing a dagger, and throwing it at the famed instructor. 

Tae'thelon was not expecting this, but he was a legitimate Hero, and was quick to block the weapon with a magic shield. 

“So the child has shown her teeth, good, I was beginning to tire of Telonicus's bland tedium. With Thaladred gone, it is somewhat appreciative to have another sharp thinker on this board.” Tae'thelon antagonized with the full might of a smug Elf. 

“Karwl says we pray to the Great Candle. Its warmth calls to us, makes us happy. Makes us strong. Kobolds is knowing we doing right thing. Sharp thinking is good thinking.” Karwl gave his own opinion, completely missing Tae'thelon's blatant aggression. 

“A sermon is a good idea, Karwl. A palate cleanser to reinforce the soul will empower the faithful, and lift spirits.” Liadrin smiled beautifully. 

Varrus slightly inclined his head. The Light engendered feelings of hope, and literally made people stronger, and endure hardships easier. 

Religion was a touchy subject for Varrus since he might technically be the grandson of Akatosh, but worship of the Light was rather ambiguous, and carried with it few negatives. 

“A sound idea, perhaps after a day or two of rest, we can begin systematically clearing the region. At the same time, we send out scouts, and begin to root out other gatherings of warlords that might require a coordinated strike.” Varrus suggested his plan, and looked to both Lor'Themar and Nightsong-seeing as they were the resident military minds-to see if they approved or had any amendments in mind. 

“It is too soon for a systematic sweep. Our army is already so few in number, dividing it even further threatens to overwhelm us.” Nightsong spoke calmly, yet Varrus took every word of hers as if it were gold. 

“Then what do you suggest?” Varrus asked. 

“Ignore the Eastwald.” Nightsong replied without any hesitation. 

“Lor'Themar, your thoughts?” 

“Hmm. What General Nightsong suggests is dangerous. I see where she is coming from. She wants to seize upon the momentum of our victory, and advance into the Western Plaguelands. To act upon the enemy whilst they are only now learning about Stratholme's loss. It is ambitious, but like I said, it is dangerous because it leaves our flanks exposed.” Lor'Themar said in thought, and moved a few pieces around the map, showing visually what he had just verbally explained. 

“Disorganized and scattered. They pose no threat to us. Hunt them down and we will be bogged for months. Detach a unit of Elites to act as hunter killers. Let them act as the beacon attracting the ravenous Undead. Ignore the forts, towns, and hamlets. Advance if you desire victory.” Nightsong replied. 

“But if we do that, we won't have any fall back points!” Koren exclaimed. 

“Quel'Vanar is the fallback point. Vulnerable as this engagement proved the city to be, Quel'Vanar possesses teleportation capabilities. If utilized properly, the enemy can be smashed in separate pieces before they can gather. Then, once they are forced to come together, we shall cut off the last remaining heads of their leadership, sending the Scourge into its final death spiral.” Nightsong patiently explained. 

“Yess, you are Varrus's mother? I like the way you think. Strike at the Scourge from the shadows, then retreat or reposition to strike again. Gilneas supports this plan.” Tess's shadow roiled with glee. 

Varrus wanted to rub the bridge of his nose, or maybe even laugh at the teen's edginess, but he also wanted to shake his head at himself, as he felt responsible for this development. 

“It seems General Nightsong and I will have to disagree on this motion. I do not believe a blitzkrieg is necessary at this time. Nor, necessarily, do I think we should systematically clear the land either. However, by holding the land, and showing our advance, it gives more time for the Kobolds to mine resources, and the Goblins to create their weapons of war. Let us not forget the loss of golems and our floating towers.” Lor'Themar cautioned. 

“The Dragonhawks could use a rest. I won't let you down, Varrus, if you call upon us, but casualties will be high if we go on a rapid advance.” Koren sighed, and ran a hand through his short blonde hair. 

Varrus felt extremely conflicted when he heard both their arguments. He wanted to get this war over with, and was partial towards Nightsong's plan. Yet Lor'Themar raised some very good points too. 

Hesitating, Varrus was going to give his stance on the matter, signaling where he stood, then put it to a vote. 

However, before he could do that, Telonicus dumped some interesting news on them. 

“Teleportation is not possible for at least the next 5 days, and we can barely remain afloat as is. Repairs to Quel'Vanar are underway as we speak, and I have wasted enough of my time attending this meeting as it is. Goodbye.” Telonicus said all in one breath, then left without another word. 

‘Bless his autism.’ Varrus thought to himself in shocked wonder.

The chief engineer of Quel'Thalas said what was on his mind without a filter, then got down to work without giving two fucks what anyone else thought. 

“...well, it seems we are tentatively going with the Ranger General's plan then. Since that is the case, let's plan which areas need to be taken, and which we should ignore.” Varrus said, gesturing towards Lor'Themar to make his recommendations. 

“The first place we should target is-” Lor'Themar nodded, and began to detail his strategy. 

Whilst Varrus was busy listening to and engaging in the meeting, he couldn't help but feel as if he had forgotten something. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“By the Light Helios, you said they would arrive in three days!” Mograine shouted over the din of combat from the top of the walls. 

“Three days? I meant nine!” Helios yelled back as he decapitated a zombie. 

‘C'mon Vandercross, show up already!’ Helios worried to himself as a never ending tide of Undead launched wave after wave upon the slowly crumbling walls of Hearthglen. 

~~~~~~~~

Varrus shrugged his shoulders, nah, couldn't be anything important if he forgot about it anyway.