Chapter 1073: A Message in the Moonlight
“Let them come,” Orion murmured to the empty air. He turned, leaving the quiet threat to hang in the silence.
A moment later, he reappeared as a streak of light on the hill where Dirtclaw waited.
“My lord,” the hound asked, his voice rumbling with awe. “Is the enemy dead?” He had heard the violent clap of thunder and the concussive boom that followed.
“Dead.”
Orion’s tone was flat, but to Dirtclaw, that single word was the very definition of absolute power.
“Take this.” Orion tossed a single beast tooth to the hound. Dirtclaw caught it in his maw and swallowed, storing it safely in his dimensional gut. He didn’t know what it was, but if his lord wanted him to have it, he would guard it with his life.
“Let’s go,” Orion said, turning south. “We continue driving the demonic monsters forward. I have a feeling our true enemies are not far off.”
And so, man and hound bathed in the pale moonlight, herding a sea of monsters as they pushed ever deeper into the south.
***
Staghelm City, at the site of the Moonwell.
Under the clear night sky, the water of the Moonwell shimmered with captured starlight. Beside it, the Moon Elf Isilra meditated, her entire form glowing with a soft luminescence.
“Isilra,” a gentle voice murmured, as calming and clear as spring water. “With your talent, it won’t be long before you ascend to the rank of demigod. When that day comes, Staghelm City will have more options. Our situation will not be so dire.”
Isilra was a Moon Elf, a being akin to the elemental sprites. Wherever the moonlight touched, she could train and recover her strength at an astonishing rate. Gima, the demigod of the Moonwell, believed her potential was boundless. Isilra would not only reach the demigod realm but climb far beyond it.
“Mother, I feel… incomplete,” Isilra said, opening her eyes. A flicker of frustration crossed her beautiful features as she sighed. “I’m missing something. I can’t find the catalyst to break through.”
She was already at the Archlord-Peak, a formidable warrior in her own right—her victory over the Witch’s avatar was proof enough of that. But she was stalled.
“Do not rush it, my child,” Gima soothed. She was the consciousness of the Moonwell, and Isilra was the most gifted of all the children she had birthed from the moonlight. “Power is a gradual accumulation. When the time is right, you will feel it, and the moon will guide your way.” She paused. “Is there any news from the north?”
Isilra shook her head, knowing what her mother was truly asking. “Our scouts could not sense the Tree of Life’s aura. We have to assume the Wood Elf race… is gone.”
The Moonwell fell silent. Had the Tree of Life been rooted in Staghelm City, their lives would have been far easier.
“Then what of the demonic monsters?” Gima asked. “Did your scouts discover why they migrated north?”
Isilra shook her head again, then nodded grimly. “The monster horde was too dense, and scouts reported powerful entities from the Black Tower operating in the region. We lost eighty percent of the people we sent out.”
Her brow furrowed. “All we know is that a new faction has appeared in the north. They also seem to be from the Black Tower. Our surviving scouts didn’t dare get close, they could only observe from a great distance using sympathetic magic through plants and moonlight. But this new power is strong.”
The implication was terrifying. An enemy from the Black Tower was an enemy of Staghelm City, period. The horde outside their walls had moved north, granting them a temporary reprieve, but Isilra knew it wouldn’t last. If these two Black Tower factions were to join forces, she couldn’t begin to imagine the consequences.
“A civil war, then? Between Black Tower factions?” the Moonwell demigod mused. “Perhaps things are not as bleak as you imagine. Something in the north threatened them, forced them to move their entire army. Whatever it is, it must be more powerful than we are.” A decision was made. “I will see for myself.”
The water in the Moonwell began to churn as Gima drew upon its power, pulling on the threads of moonlight that stretched far to the north. Soon, the surface calmed, becoming a clear, transparent screen reflecting a series of images.
The first vision was of the Black Tower in Augurath Sanctuary, tirelessly converting living beings into demonic monsters. Each creature that emerged immediately began marching south.
“Mother… is that the northern Black Tower?” Isilra’s voice trembled. “They’re making more monsters… and sending them south. Are they going to merge the two hordes?” If that happened, the pressure on Staghelm City would become unbearable. If her mother’s power failed, the city would fall in days.
Gima didn’t answer, her focus entirely on the scrying. The image shifted.
Now, the water reflected countless legions of the undead. Skeletons and shambling corpses bathed in the moonlight, slowly absorbing its essence, their power growing with each passing moment.
“Undead!” Isilra gasped, swallowing hard. The demonic monsters were bad enough. If they had to face an endless army of the undead as well, Staghelm City was doomed.
Then, the reflection changed again. A man and a hound stood on a small hill. The man was tall and powerful, his cape billowing behind him, cutting a heroic silhouette against the moon. The Hell-Drake Hound beside him was a creature of myth, its body covered in glowing runes and wreathed in perpetual hellfire.
“Mother, who are they?” Isilra whispered. “It looks like… they’re the ones herding the demonic monsters!”
Before she could ask more, the scene shifted perspective. A shadowy entity, hidden in the void, was spying on the man and the hound. Suddenly, lightning flashed, space itself collapsed, and the hidden being was trapped and utterly destroyed.
The vision tried to shift one last time, back to the northern Black Tower. But when Gima tried to pull on the moonlight that fell upon the tower itself, she was met with a wall of nothing. The light that entered the tower never came out. It was a black hole, absorbing everything.
At the same time, the surface of the Moonwell began to heave violently, shattering all the images.
Whoosh.
Gima released her hold on the moonlight, and a wave of exhaustion emanated from the well.
“The master of the northern Black Tower has locked down the moonlight,” she said, her voice weary. “I cannot see any more. In trying, I have exposed my location to him. But I sent a sliver of goodwill along with the scrying. If they are not allies of the Cult of Four… I believe they will find us.”
The demigod sounded drained but resolute. She had seen similarities between the two towers, but she had also seen differences. And that brief, violent encounter on the Hydraea Plains… it had given her a sliver of hope.
Perhaps this new power in the north was not an enemy after all.