Infinite Realm: Monsters & Legends

Years

King Karsoom walked over the blue grass, his long and slim tail swishing gently behind him over the tips of the grass strands, letting them tingle his skin. On a hill just outside of his city under the midday sun, he was deep in thought. He had no escort, for he rarely needed one. He was the most powerful person in his kingdom. And also, the territory was surrounded by a curtain of mist that disoriented anyone that entered it, aptly named the Curtain of Confusion, with only one way in and out of the territory that was monitored closely. This territory was the heart of his kingdom, the safest place that he could be.

And so, he walked alone, trying to gather his thoughts and make a decision.

Two years ago, the world changed at the tournament with the deaths of the majority of the High Rankers and the leaders of the great factions. Karsoom remembered when he got the news, a day after it had happened. It took a while for everyone to really learn what had happened, and even now Karsoom wondered about what he still didn’t know.

At first, he like most of the world saw what had happened as an opportunity. To grow, to expand without the fear of reprisal. How wrong he had been. The chaos erupted quickly, and everyone realized just how much they needed those on top, those who were the strongest, to keep the peace. The swiftness at which everyone turned on each other was incredible. Karsoom himself had managed to conquer two territories from his less liked neighbor. For over a year, things were looking up for his kingdom, despite the war. The rest of the core was tearing itself apart, and the fact that the main hub of his kingdom’s power was protected by the Curtain on Confusion meant that few tried to attack them.

And then… things started to go wrong. Since the beginning there had been calls for cooperation, for a joint attack on the Tournament City to take care of the monsters that had invaded it through the portal created by the Speaker for the Blind. But few saw any real danger in that, Karsoom himself doubted the reports. Yes, he was worried about what this dome meant, the fact that apparently there were more of them out there, but in the end not many monsters could’ve passed through the portal before it was closed. Even if ten times their number had gotten through, it was nothing compared to the size of armies in the core. Cut off from its leader, everyone assumed that this strange swarm would not pose a threat for long. Everyone assumed that someone else would take care of it.

Reports came in about skirmishes with strange monsters, but nothing really concerning. Until the entire region went silent. A dozen territories, all claimed by these monsters, and suddenly there were no more reports coming out. Scouts sent in were never heard from again.

Sigmund Otensson had been the loudest voice among those who tried to push for a joint attack on the monsters, with Selia Ha Jhan being a close second despite her sect having problems that, at the time at least, seemed much greater.

Now, Karsoom had received another invitation, a plea really. They wanted him and his armies for their third attempt. Two armies were sent into the enemy territories by Sigmund, and neither one had been heard of since. Once the scouts stopped coming back out, Sigmund assembled a small army and sent it in to gather information. When that one didn’t come out, he doubled the numbers and sent the second one.

He didn’t plan on playing around this time. They had no information, so his plan was to drown the monsters in numbers. Karsoom had read through his initial plan. It called on a hundred factions in the core, aiming to assemble an army of millions led by the most powerful people in the core. He wanted a ceasefire among all of them for the duration of the campaign. It was a good plan, but he didn’t know if it was a smart one. He didn’t know if others were going to agree.

Yet… He had a reason to accept, just like many others had. There had been… reports of strange sightings and missing people all over the territories surrounding the Tournament Territory. Karsoom had been reading reports citing entire villages missing, looking as if every single person inside of them had just decided to get up and move. That was what had been assumed at the start, which was why it had been months before he had been told. Now, almost two years had passed since the Night of Loss, and the big players had already grabbed what they could in the confusion. The wars had cooled down to skirmishes and slow pushes against entrenched opponents. Karsoom knew that these wars could last for decades, centuries even. But… while there was chaos, he didn’t think that there was ever going to be a better time for them to try and deal with this other threat.

He came to a stop on top of a hill, looking out at the waves of blue grass and the cattle that grazed at it. All of them were specially bred monsters just for that purpose, Karsoom had high level breeders on staff that took care of it all.

He took a deep breath, and then released it slowly.

“The world is heavy, sometimes,” a voice spoke, startling him.

Karsoom turned to see a figure standing next to him. In one gloved hand was a crook staff, made out of brown wood. Immediately he relaxed as he realized that the person was a herder, there to watch over the cattle. His long yellow robe was strange, but Karsoom felt his mind calm as that detail didn’t seem important enough, despite the figure having its head completely covered with a hood.

“My apologies,” the figure inclined their head. “I did not mean to interrupt you your majesty. It just seemed like you were in need of a conversation.”

Karsoom opened his mouth to refute that, and then he closed it slowly as he realized that the herder was right. He was conflicted, and somehow, it seemed like a good idea to listen and hear what one of his subjects had to say. After all, all that he did, he did for them.

“Yes,” Karsoom said slowly. “You are right. I am… worried.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” the herder said.

Karsoom blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You are a king, are you not?” The man asked. “If you didn’t worry, I would be the one worried. The people like to know that our leaders worry about us.”

Karsoom nodded his head, that seemed reasonable enough. “Yes, well. I…” he paused, nearly telling this simple herder everything. Then he thought about, nothing that he was thinking about was really a secret. It wasn’t as if he a simple herder would be able to do anything with the information—somehow all of that made perfect sense to him. “I’ve been… invited to a joint coalition, one meant to fight and clear the territories surrounding the Tournament Territory.”

“Ah,” the herder said. “I’ve heard something about it, that notification? Monsters right?”

Karsoom nodded. “Yes, a test from the Framework itself. It was initiated early, though only a fraction of the monster’s power is in the core, the threat has only grown stronger as it was ignored. I understand this, though I still don’t think that it is something that all of us need to worry about. After all, what can a fraction of this monster swarm do? Even if it is intelligently led.”

“So, you are not certain if you want to participate, my king?” The herder asked.

“I am trying to decide. We’ve gained much in the past two years, but ultimately, this threat is not something that is immediately relevant to my people. There are thousands of other factions in the core that are closer.”

“Of course,” the herder said. “Well, I do not know what you should do, I am a simple herder, and all that I worry and care about is tending to my flock.”

Karsoom blinked, something about those words struck him as important. He realized that in a way, he was like this herder, and his people were his flock. The herder was right, it all made sense to him, he didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before. What did he care about the others, he needed only to make sure that his people were safe.

Karsoom turned to thank the herder but found that he was alone on top of the hill.

The yellow shrouded figure walked across the land, searching for the next soul in need of advice.

Fethum Starseeker of the Unchained ran across the forest floor. He was exhausted, for fifteen days and nights he had been running away from a mysterious pursuer. He didn’t need to rest often, but this pursuit had done a number on him. He didn’t know who his pursuer was, he had been staying away from him, trying to keep him at the edge of his senses.

During the day, the pursuer kept up, gaining distance as Fethum ran but, as soon as night fell his pursuer slowed, just maintaining the distance that he had gained during the day. It was strange and had been nagging at him constantly. At this point it had been impacting his mental state more than his overall tiredness. He had been on a mission for Kael, far away from any support. He couldn’t call for backup, nor did he want to lead whoever this was to any of their hiding places. The entire core was on the hunt for them, had been for every single day of the last two and a half years when Kael unleashed a dome and so many in the core died. They had attributed the crimes of others to them, but in the end that didn’t really matter, they had done what they had wanted. The chaos that had filled the core had not yet reached its peak, but the signs were there, great factions had started to fall. And the Unchained had been in the hiding; they didn’t want to give them anything that could unite them again, like catching Kael. So Fethum ran, because all it would take was one slip up and they would have entire armies coming down on their heads.

Near the end of the night, he reached the edge of the forest and came to a stop in the open. His build was best when he had the room to use it, and he had grown impatient. He needed to deal with this before he was too tired to fight, or his mind turned on him.

His pursuer kept coming, narrowing the distance between them until he finally reached him. He stopped in the shadows of the forest, just a shadowy form that Fethum couldn’t quite make out in the pale light of the moon.

“Tired of running little rat?” The shadow spoke, his voice carrying across the distance.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Fethum asked.

“I want to know where your leader hides, and by the time this is over, you will tell me.”

“Nothing that you can do will make me betray him, you must know that,” Fethum said, the Unchained were a loyal group, he truly believed in their cause—he wouldn’t betray Kael.

“We shall see,” the figure said as finally the moon’s light turned from pale blue, to pale yellow, announcing the start of the daytime. The figure stepped forward into the now yellow light and Fethum saw him fully. He recognized him. He wore a simple vest that left his muscular and deep red in color limbs bare, his chest was tanned but of a different color just as his face was. A side-effect of his birth, of carrying the lineage of two different races. His golden hair was slicked back, and two small horns rose from his forehead, nowhere near as large as those of the full blooded demasi. His eyes blazed with orange light and he raised his eyes up to gaze at the sun.

“Ah…” He sighed as the light of the sun landed on his face, the air around him trembled a haze shrouded him. “You will tell me what I want to know, Starseeker. By the time this day is over, I will know where my family’s killer is hiding.”

Fethum knew now why he had kept his distance, why he had only tried to catch up with him during the day. Fethum knew that he was fucked, because one did not fight Heor Darkhoof, the Beloved of the Sun, during the day. Qi blazed out of his core and he prepared to meet his foe.

Eratemus walked through his fortress anxious and disappointed. He had just gotten word that the Grey Horde had arrived to her main territory. Her journey across the Settled Territories had been too long, and she had been forced to go ahead of her army. She could’ve arrived sooner, but as wars broke out it became impossible to use the teleporters that connected everything, most of them at least. Every faction that was engaged in wars, shut theirs down to prevent any infiltrators. It had taken years for the Grey Horde to get back to their territories. She had gone to her own territory with her strongest champions, leaving the bulk of her army to travel through the Under along with his undead.

He didn’t have any more teleportation scrolls, and it took too long to make them and they were too expensive anyway. He made a mental note to try and try and make some that were able to transport just a single person across the same distance.

Still, he had spent the last two and a half years fighting off invaders, depleting his already depleted forces. Thankfully, he had spent a thousand years fortifying his territories, and he had never held that many of them in the first place. After the clash with the third Iteration, his main army had been reduced to barely a fifth of its power, and while he had made new undead over the last two years it wasn’t nearly enough. His army was in the Under, and it would be months still before it could arrive in the core, and a bit more for the Grey Horde’s army. His undead could walk without stopping, though the terrain and the threats in the Under did slow them down some, but her army needed to rest.

Everything was falling apart. No one listened to their warnings, every single one of the people they reached out to in order to gather an army to attack the Tournament Territory had refused them. Enough so that Eratemus had gotten suspicious. There had been people that owed him favors, who he believed to be honorable that had broken their word to him. Too many for it to be a coincidence. Something else was going on, but he didn’t yet know what.

He didn’t know what they were going to do, they were too weak at the moment. The core had lost nearly all of their High Rankers and the leaders of the great factions, many of the midsized factions that had representatives at the gathering when the Reaction Engine hit lost a lot of power too. Yerala and Raela were dead, Zenker and Yirrel presumed dead. Dracael had retreated to the island of dungeons, trying to keep the adventurers from tearing themselves apart as a hundred different factions appeared following Venges’ death. Sigmund had spent two years smashing down every invasion against his factions, and was now too weakened to attack the Tournament Territories on his own. Eratemus had enough undead to protect his own power base, but until his army came, he could do little. The Grey Horde had arrived to the core to find her faction attacked from a dozen sides, everyone taking advantage of her absence to carve a small piece of her territories for themselves. Without the bulk of her army, she was losing, until her army arrived, she wouldn’t be able to help either.

Their newest member, Selia Ha Jhan was in the worst position. The Zenshuen Sect had been hit arguably the hardest. And despite them having more powerful individuals than most, they were getting overwhelmed.

There was no one left who could focus on the threat in the heart of the core. And the worst part was that Eratemus knew that they were doomed if they didn’t deal with it soon. His spies in the Third Iteration Empire had told him what had happened there. Half of the Empire was gone, overwhelmed and rolled over by the endless armies that could multiply. The only reason they still held was because they were paranoid beyond compare, because they prepared for the entire world to be turned against them. Their great wall, in the center of their empire stretch across the entire length of their territories. It had been intended to protect them from an attack coming from the north, instead they had been hit from the south. They’ve lost most of their preparations in the south, their food growing farms and cashes, but they were still holding.

He had even had one of them attempt contact with the Third leadership, he needed better information, and he needed to lay the foundation for the future.

They wouldn’t for long, he knew. This was no time for waiting, they needed to take care of the monsters in the core and then all march south to help the Third Iteration. Yet… Eratemus knew that it would take years for the matters in the core to settle, for anyone to even be willing to listen.

He just didn’t know what to do.

Selia Ha Jhan watched from her mount, sitting at the edge of a cliff, as the fire spread far in the distance. Her home, the mighty fortress city in the mountains had fallen, and with it fell the Zenshuen Sect. Too many enemies, and not enough allies, had led them to this outcome. Before all of this she had believed that the Zenshuen Sect had many allies, now she realized that most of them had just been opportunists, leeching off of them and waiting for a chance to strike. The few sects that had stayed loyal had paid the price for that loyalty along with her sect.

She glanced to her side where Eari Ji Van stood with Reki, they had fought by her side for years now and she was grateful for them. Erdania stood on her other side, her eyes focused on the burning mountain. The two of them were more powerful than anyone else in this conflict. Alone, they had been able to take down entire armies, but what did it matter when there were a dozen more ready to take their place? They had been overwhelmed, ground down over time by an unending attack from all sides.

She had tried to negotiate, to offer compromises, because she knew what the real threat was. Because she knew that they couldn’t afford this. Yet that had only served to make everyone believe that they were weak. And in the end, they had lost.

“What do we do now?” Erdania asked.

Selia closed her eyes. In the back of her mind, she felt another presence, one that had become an ever present one since the Night of Loss. She had spoken through their link only sparingly; she hadn’t really known what to say or do. She wasn’t equipped to handle whatever their link was, not quickly at least, and she had no time to pause and think as she fought wars. She and Erdania had talked about it, but… for the most part, they ignored the link, tried not to bring attention to it.

The emotions she felt through it were muted now, the distance making it harder to read. But now… they didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“We leave, we grow strong enough to take everything back,” Selia said. She knew that Sigmund had the League working on trying to find what was happening in the Tournament Territories, even while he worked with what was left of the Cabal to gather people together for an attack. She wanted to help, but in the state they were, with just a few thousand people she had left under her command, there wasn’t much that she could do.

She needed to talk with Erdania, and then, perhaps she would reach out through the link inside her head and see what other choices she had.