211, 2/2

Ten hours later there had been no attacks on the Greater Candlepoint Area.

Burhendurur reported zero incidents aside from normal incidents, but even bar fights and otherwise were way down; everyone had heard of the declaration of war from the Sovereign Cities. Mephistopheles and Slip reported nothing at Candlepoint. Weald was silent. Gambler’s Rest reported nothing, though there was a marked increase in both parties, and in war preparations. Even on the other sides of the Gates, nothing happened, except for a lot of trading, as usual. The Gate District never slept, for it was always day time somewhere.

A lot of traders on floating Platforms did move a lot faster than usual, though, hurrying to get through customs and onto their next destination before the Gates possibly closed forever, if the Cities actually managed to pull off the impossible and kill Erick.

From what Erick had seen last night, as Ophiel flew across the Cities, righting wrongs, he very much doubted the military might of these asshole humans.

In the course of the night, Erick had directly saved the lives of around 2,000 people, and [Reincarnation]ed 1,229 people into their own forms; younger, in most cases, and with a better life trajectory in every single case. Under the power of [Reincarnation], Erick saw the natural flow of futures of every single person he touched. They all had anywhere from 40% to, in one case, 95% of all futures as violent ends, either due to their own actions, or the actions of others. Killers, rapists, poisoners, muggers, thieves, violent mercenaries committing small and large acts of violence against other people for their whole lives, violent nobles using their violence against others to force them to capitulate to the nobles’ wants.

But Erick picked the better end for all of them.

He knew that what he was doing was a horrible violation.

A war crime that was king among all other war crimes.

“And no one in the Cities cares?!” Erick said, slamming his hand atop a fresh batch of letters from the Sovereign Cities. “They’re taunting me? What the FUCK!”

Zolan said, “In many ways this is a good outcome. The letter from Charme is most revealing.”

Erick grabbed up that letter and read off the part Zolan was referring to, “ ‘If this is the level of threat that we are to expect from you, then perhaps you are no actual threat to the world after all. Therefore, surrender now, Wizard of Darkness, or be invaded by forces you cannot comprehend.’ What the fucking fuck!” He looked to Zolan. “The only respect I got at all was from the fucking angel who offed herself rather than complete her contract to fight me—” Suddenly, all Erick’s anger came to a head, and then boiled over, releasing all that anger into the void. Erick blinked a bit, then looked down at the letters again. “Oh. They’re fine with me cleaning up their cities.” He looked up at Zolan. “Is that what they’re really after?”

Zolan stared at Erick like Melemizargo had popped up behind him.

Erick turned and looked at the shadow on the wall, and it was a perfectly normal shadow. He turned back to Zolan.

Zolan said, “Uh. No. I doubt that… scenario, sir. I think a more accurate thing to say is that they do not care if you harm their people. They believe it must be those peoples’ own faults for being harmed in the first place.”

“… Oh.” Erick picked up the letter from Charme again, and then read off a different part, “ ‘The culling of the weak matters nothing to us, for if this is the level of threat… yada yada’.” Erick stared at the letters for a while.

Zolan was right.

They truly did not care about the commoner person over there.

Zolan waited while Erick comprehended that.

Erick looked up, and said, “Then… I’m going to do this every single night, and I’ll start sending the remade people to Gambler’s Rest… Perhaps—” In that moment, everything seemed too weird. “Holy shit, Zolan. This is such a fucking weird war. Like… Is it better to transform people into better forms, when they would have died, or committed murder and then be executed anyway because they’re murderers? But only if they’re found out and someone even cares to prosecute them— The nobles over there wouldn’t be prosecuted, though! They have the same problem Songli has; the nobility operate under different laws than the commoners.” He looked to Zolan. “Is it right to take people who would have died, and make them better? And then… to continue doing that? Because this is a very grass-roots way to transform a nation, and it will work. Might even work as soon as a few years… Unless they’re all murdered by the nobility when they start actually linking hands and forming a power bloc.”

Zolan readily answered, “So don’t [Blessing of Empathy] them anymore; just [Reincarnation] them. Transform their futures from continual horror, to a future of helping each other, and then let them gather and make their own nation. Let them fight their own wars. Either way, the meeting with the five Cities is happening in an hour. Perhaps you should not get caught up in whatever ‘war crimes’ you think you’re committing, when you are still saving lives and making the world a better place in the process.”

“… But they are war crimes though,” Erick said, looking directly at Zolan.

“… By certain definitions, yes. But then again a Breach Demon uses Soul Magic to destroy human souls and conjure demons in their place, and the Converter Angel converts people to the Will of Celes. Incani transform people into demons when they go to war, and humans annihilate incani souls when they can. The Life Binder transforms people into new forms all the time. The Necromancers of Songli summon the dead back to life for bureaucratic purposes.” Zolan said, “By comparison: your [Reincarnation] and [Blessing of Empathy] have already proven themselves as boons of unparalleled opportunity and growth. While this… particular application of this magic leaves a bad taste, personally I feel it is better than the alternative, when the alternative is total war with potentially hundreds of thousands dead and an end to the chance to reach new worlds.” Zolan said, “You are a good man, Erick. You are the treaty which will bind the world together to a better future, and if some people have to be transformed to make that future happen, then that is for the best.”

Erick was still having trouble with the whole idea, though.

Zolan added, “Perhaps you should involve the people from Gambler’s Rest in these sorts of decisions, then. Perhaps the opinions of locals on what needs to be done to the people in power will either assuage or confirm your fears.”

Erick almost groaned. “Yes. Yes. I should do that, shouldn’t I— I got… I got caught up.” He looked to Zolan. “That place is worse than anywhere else I have ever seen on Veird except for Ar’Kendrithyst when the Shades were active.”

Zolan raised an eyebrow. “Then you’ve never been to Continental Nergal? The Fractured Citadels? Some of the worse-off places in Nelboor?”

“Not fully, but yes I have, at least a little. And yet! On a ratio of bad things happening per night, based on last night: Yes, Zolan. The Sovereign Cities were worse than almost anywhere else that I have ever personally seen. I held back from doing everything I could have done at the Cities last night, but I could have done a lot.” Erick said, “I saw hard drugs in their markets; not blue weed, but fang snapper and illusion’s grace for sure. I healed tens of people who would have died from overdose. I saw flags of the Cinnabar Hand in some underground hideaways; the same Hunters who targeted Spur, who helped Caradogh Pogi to kill the Farms. I found face stealers in the process of stealing faces. I saw… I saw a lot. A lot of things that Harridon and Bobbi and everyone else didn’t even talk about yesterday, and I have no idea why. Probably just because there was too much to talk about.”

Zolan showed no surprise at all as Erick spoke of drugs and Hunters. He simply said, “Whatever you do to the Cities you’re likely going to want to repeat with the slavers of Continental Nergal, and the necromancers of the Citadels, and with all the other terrible little murderous clans hiding out in Nelboor who have nothing to do with the Darkness at all. I advise you to consider that you are stretching yourself too thin, and that if you continue, you might break. I also reinforce your decision to use this newfound information and talk to the Dicers again, to get a better understanding of what you saw.”

“… You’re right, of course.” Erick looked to Zolan. “I still can’t believe that you’re okay with this soul magic?”

Zolan nodded. “I am very okay with righting the wrongs of this world. I believe you will find that many others will feel the same way. And [Reincarnation] is wonderful, Erick. I trust you with that spell, perhaps more than anyone else I could think of, and all the soul scans agree that my stance has nothing to do with the fact that I’ve been [Reincarnation]ed.” He added, “But, if you think that simply shifting someone’s soul toward a better future is going to solve the problems of the Cities, then perhaps… Perhaps it might, but perhaps we will be in the Cities for a long time to come, no matter the outcome of this war.”

– – – –

“Thanks for coming, Harridon, Glorida, Bobbi,” Erick said, seated on his side of the meeting space.

It was just them; no one else.

Harridon was dressed in the same bright red conjured armor he had been wearing in public, ever since the Sovereign Cities’ declaration of war. Glorida was in yellow, and Bobbi was wearing his fishbowl hat again. A lot of the Dicers had been prepared for something awful to happen, and so they also wore [Conjure Armor]. Harridon’s helmet was off to the side at the moment, but Glorida and Bobbi still wore theirs.

With a stern face, Harridon said, “We are grateful for the chance to right the wrongs of the Cities, right alongside you, Wizard Flatt. If you have demands of us, we should hear all of them so that we can fulfill them to the best of our abilities.”

Glorida and Bobbi let Harridon speak for them.

Erick nodded, saying, “Heard and understood. For now, your power would be best spent protecting Gambler’s Rest.”

Harridon’s face fell.

Glorida spoke up, “We can fight, sir! We know the land! We know the enemies. We can help you win this and ensure that a new breed of Cities rises from the ashes of the old!”

Harridon said, “As you can see, our people are ready to fight as soon as we have a vector of attack.”

Bobbi simply nodded.

All three of them were of the same mind; that they wanted to be involved in the overthrow of the Sovereign Cities.

Erick decided to just tell them, “You should know that I began the counter offensive last night, and have run into no issues so far. Barely any response, either, except for taunting letters.”

Harridon’s entire self brightened as his eyes went wide. Glorida and Bobbi had the same reaction. But then Erick spoke of ‘barely any response’, and all three went from hopeful to concerned.

“Pardon me for my questions, but…” Harridon asked, “Which royalty is dead?”

“None. They’re all still alive. I did save about 2,000 lives though, through the stopping of violent muggings and other such crimes, most of which I don’t feel like getting into.”

Harridon and Glorida had no response to that, except to lose all hope.

Bobbi spoke up, “So you did nothing.”

And that, right there, was very telling; especially when Harridon and Glorida seemed to share that sentiment.

Erick said, “You have explained how you began your rebellion, by creating stone houses outside of the cities and when they were attacked, you retaliated. But I wish to know if any of your Dicers attempted a different sort of war; one of winning the people over, first. Because I have run into a rare phenomenon; anything done against the common person is completely overlooked by those in charge.” Erick deposited the letters from the royalty of the Cities onto the tea table between their seats, saying, “Go ahead and read these.”

The three Dicers hesitantly began reading the letters.

Bobbi spoke as he picked up the one from North Curio, saying, “Of course they don’t care if you save the lives of nobodies.”

Glorida almost said something, but she was deep in the letter from Charme.

The three Dicers read the letters, and not a single one of them looked surprised. Erick waited until they were finished with all five.

And then Erick said, “So I have a plan. Tell me what you think of it: If I simply help people every single night, and stay out of the way of the Royalty, what will happen?”

Bobbi scrunched his face. Glorida frowned.

Harridon said, “But then nothing changes.” He rapidly added, “And the royalty will come after you eventually. This is the same sort of thing that Wellwisher tried to do in the beginning; help people.”

“Ah. But see? I simply want to help people, and I am not actually making any stone cities in those lands.” Erick was not going to tell them about the [Reincarnation]s and the [Blessing of Empathy]; not yet. He would let them think what they wanted to think. “My goal is not to overthrow anyone, even if they truly deserve it, but to change the world. And that comes through calculated assassination, yes, but your nation is much worse off than a few hundred assassinations could possibly fix. I deposited several tons of whiteroot and other non-perishable foods into starving households all across the land. I put out fires. I went after killers and rapists. And that was just one night of work.”

Glorida frowned a little, saying, “The people will take those gifts of food and burn them.”

Erick smirked a little, saying, “Ah! But they haven’t. Sure. Some did. But a lot of others just took the gifts and told their kids not to say anything.”

Glorida fell silent.

Harridon said, “It still won’t work. They won’t care for the good you do for them. They’re throw it back in you face and tell you to fuck off.”

Erick nodded. “That happened a lot, yes. Still gonna do it, though.”

Harridon had no idea what to do with that.

Bobbi did. “You still need to kill the royalty eventually. Even better if you could time it right with a groundswell of real support for yourself and truly overthrow the whole system.”

Glorida whispered, mostly to herself, “Wellwisher tried to do that.”

Harridon said, “Wellwisher tried to do a lot of good things, and he died for it. You might have a better go of it since you have true power. I would seek to serve this overturn of the Cities. Use me in whatever way you need, Wizard Flatt, for I wish to see my Cities free of tyranny.”

Bobbi strongly said, “I would, too. I trust you, Wizard Flatt.”

Glorida steeled herself, saying, “I don’t believe we would get our proper vengeance through peaceful mitigation of problems… But I can give up vengeance if it means a Killtree that I can return to one day, where the streets are paved with stone and I can turn the gravesites of my family into proper markers.”

Erick thought for a moment.

He decided something.

Erick said, “Then I should tell you how I actually saved the lives of those 2,000 people, and how I transformed 1,200 souls into better people than the ones they were before. When I’m done, tell me if the outcome is worse than the death those 1,200 would have received, for the natural outcome for those 1,200 people would surely have been death.”

And then Erick told them of [Reincarnation] and [Blessing of Empathy], and his idea for a war of seeds planted that would out-compete all other growth in the garden, due to their natural ability to work together for a common good. Or at least that was his tentative idea, right now.

Erick said, “And so, if they don’t actually fight me straight-up, then I’ll go around that royalty and change their society into something better. Might take ten years, but that’s fine.”

At least one of the Dicers was completely on board with Erick’s idea.

Bobbi strongly said, “I would like to be [Reincarnation]ed and dropped off along with a few other Dicers into the lands around Killtree. We failed to do the rebellion right the first time, but we can do it right this time. From the ground up. Like how Wellwisher wanted us to.”

Glorida had been quiet and contemplative, but at Bobbi’s words, her world lit up. With eyes wide, and then steel in her gaze, she said, “I would do this as well.”

Harridon stared at his companions. He said to them, “You would die.” He said to Erick, “These people you have Matriculated will die once they are found out. The very moment they are seen casting magic in the open, they will be marked.”

“Then it’s a good thing none of them have any Points to spend on anything.” Erick said, “[Reincarnation] put them into the Script; but it does not properly Matriculate them. They won’t gain any experience or points or anything like that unless they actually kill something for experience. But, what they will have is 20 in every Stat, the innate smarts and propensity to know how to fly under the [Scan], and an innate understanding of justice for all, and not merely for those who can take it.” Erick admitted, “Though a lot of that was a stretch for a lot of the people I saw. The major targets were easy to hit for every single [Reincarnation], though.”

Into the stunned silence of realizing exactly how much power Erick had—

Erick stood up, saying, “Take some time to think of that. I’ve got a meeting with the royalty of the Cities. You’re welcome to watch from afar.” With a hard voice, he said, “I will accept no violence at that meeting.”

All three people stood up as Erick stood, but now they faltered. As one, all three bowed, and then they rose.

Erick said, “Depending on how this goes you two might get your request, Bobbi, Glorida.” He said to Harridon, “But I still need someone to take care of Gambler’s Rest, so that’s on you if they go. Feel free to discuss all of that. I’ll see you later.”

And then Erick lightstepped away.

He felt marginally better about his ‘grass roots’ plan. It might actually work…

But probably not.

Not with the current batch of royals in charge of the Sovereign Cities. Bobbi had been right; the royals would need to die eventually.

Only one way to find out for sure, though.

– – – –

Meeting the royals was an affair of egos clashing and magics done over long distances, at a neutral location in the plains between Killtree, North Curio, and Charme. The original location had been at an old fort that had fallen into disuse centuries ago, which stood like a pile of scattered stone upon the empty plains. Erick had demanded the location switch to about a hundred kilometers north, where there was absolutely nothing but empty grasslands.

Erick laid down a [Zone of Peace] at that location, and then he had Ophiel project a lightform image of Erick onto the grasslands underwing. Three more Ophiel hovered in the background, awaiting treachery, while a fourth hovered beside the first one, projecting an image of Zolan. All of them were under the most protective magics that Erick could muster, including thorny silver shields, [Unbreakable Form] absolute defense, [Prismatic Ward]s, and the sunform combinations of [Perfect Benevolence] and [Lodestar].

Kirginatharp, Fairy Moon, the people from Stratagold or Portal, none of them were present.

Erick had had offers from many different factions, asking to participate in this meeting alongside him, but Kirginatharp had had the right idea; the first meeting would be just between him and them… And also Zolan. Or at least Zolan’s avatar.

But maybe Zolan shouldn’t have been present at all.

Erick trusted Zolan, but he didn’t want him to get hurt, either.

“We don’t know what their threat actually looks like, Zolan.” Erick glanced to Quilatalap, who stood against a pillar of the room. Quilatalap smiled faintly, and nodded. Erick felt his heart relax a little at that. He continued, “But you don’t really want to accept a [True Resurrection], either, if the worst should happen.”

“I have already said that if the worst should happen that I will accept a [True Resurrection]. My body language and my heart do not tell the full story of what my mind knows to be true, King Flatt; that [True Resurrection] is real. I am well aware of the Headmaster’s stance on that spell, though…” Zolan breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. “But I can deal with that, if it should happen. And besides that, I’m only present as a specialized [Scry] orb that is already inside an Ophiel. I’m as safe as can be.”

“There are ways to attack someone through their [Scry] orb.”

Zolan smiled a little. “I am well aware of what most of those ways are, and the risk I am taking. Thank you for your concern, but I feel I must be present here, and so, I must insist on participating. If you would allow it.”

Erick stopped himself from sighing. He nodded, instead. “I want you here, too, Zolan. Thank you.”

Zolan bowed a little.

Erick looked to Poi.

Poi shook his head. “Not ready yet.”

“It’s obviously a power play of some sort,” Zolan offered. “It’s already past time.”

“Yup.” Erick said, “They’re rather petty people…” He frowned a little. “We’re trying to be better than them, right?” And suddenly, Erick needed to ask both Poi and Quilatalap a question he had already asked Zolan, “Was [Reincarnation]ing all those people who would have died anyway the right answer? It’s wrong to turn people into better people against their will… But what if the alternative is letting them continue to harm others? Mind control is wrong. Soul mutilation is wrong. But… There’s therapeutic uses of Mind Magic out there, and every single person I transform over there will be a better person than they were before. Categorically, in every way. I took a torturer and killer of men and turned her into a sword saint warrior who would fight for others, and that’s just one person. From what I hear about the Shades and the Terror Peaks survivors, they’re all better people now, too.” He stopped talking.

He could have said a lot more.

But he had said a lot already.

Zolan stood resolute, and silent. He and Erick had already had this talk.

Quilatalap shrugged. “You’re avoiding a war through turning soldiers into better people. It’s the best outcome for all, Erick.”

To that, Zolan could not remain silent. “The royalty chose war. Erick transformed commoners who could not defend themselves, in a direct effort to begin the slow transformation of their society from the ground up. He did not even target soldiers. He transformed 1,200 in one night. If he continued that would be well over 10,000 people per week, and that’s one percent of the estimated population of all the Sovereign Cities.” He looked to Erick, saying, “But to be clear, I still think this is the right decision.”

Erick asked, “I still don’t understand how the fuck they haven’t killed themselves.”

Zolan said, “The cold fact is that either those people would not have died and you were being overzealous, or Benevolence twisted to cause all those events to happen in a single night.”

Like a slap to the face coming out of nowhere, Erick took the blow, and was stunned.

Zolan laid the entire thought out there, which Erick hadn’t even considered, “Perhaps Benevolence is causing all of this to happen, in an effort to solve a problem long before it becomes a problem. That’s the whole point of it, after all.”

Quilatalap said, “Elemental Fate could do some weird stuff back in the Old Cosmology. Since Benevolence twists like Fate, but different, it’s possible this was Benevolence’s fault.” He added, “But I really don’t see the problem with taking people who would have died and giving them new chances. It’s even better if the long-term results end up being a society of peace and strength.” He shrugged. “The Cities are terrible, and for a hundred different reasons. They can only be improved by a strong hand willing to take up that cause and follow through.”

Erick asked, “Were they purposefully kept that way, by the Shades?”

Quilatalap said, “Sure; yes. The Shades have been poking at Veird since the Sundering, but they’re certainly not responsible for every single evil out there.” He said, “Quite honestly, Erick, there is absolutely nothing wrong with forcefully correcting the world, and making up for all the mistakes of the Shades in any way you can.”

Zolan eyed Quilatalap. Poi eyed Quilatalap, too.

And Erick was already saying, “It might cause less harm to ‘correct’ them all right now, but that’s a decision I don’t want to make. And yet… I think that rescuing people who were about to die, and those who were about to kill, and putting them all in new bodies predisposed to being kinder to each other is a slower, safer way to make the world better. But it’s still… Icky.”

Quilatalap shrugged. “It’s not actual mind control or soul control, so while your hangups are understandable, you’re not actually doing much to them besides making them understand their fellow person better. And that really is a blessing, Erick. A new body, younger and healthier and predisposed to being that way their entire life. Matriculation, even if they have no way to gain experience like most freshly Matriculated people can gain experience. A [Blessing of Empathy] to let them better understand the people around them.” He looked to Erick. “You’re acting like you think you have mutilated these people, but if anything you’ve healed them. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“… Well.” Erick went silent.

No one spoke—

Into the silence, Poi said, “Perhaps you should have offered them the choice, Erick, instead of deciding their fate for them. I always thought that particular option always made the whole thing more palatable.”

“… Ah.” Erick said, “Yeah… Hard to do in the middle of a crisis… But that’s kind of an excuse.”

Poi changed the subject, “Enforcement and Magic are ready for a counter attack. Prognostication is set. Kiri is ready to sound alarms if needed. Jane is indisposed in the Underworld as of twenty minutes ago, but she and her team are on high alert. They will be coming home within three days, as fast as they can. Everyone else is ready.”

“Thank you, Poi,” Erick said, and he meant so much more than a simple ‘thank you for your help’.

Poi nodded.

And then…

Moments passed in silence.

Minutes ticked away at a glacial pace as—

“ETA 30 seconds,” Poi announced.

Erick focused—

Quilatalap spoke up, “I love that you’re trying for peace, Erick.”

Erick briefly smiled, his stomach turning in flips.

And then he focused again. The outcome of this meeting would determine the nature of this war. Would this turn out peacefully? Would Erick overturn the royalty of the cities slowly, through the transformation of their entire society? Or would events unfold a lot faster? Because the Sovereign Cities were going to change.

Of that, there was no doubt.

– – – –

One royal appeared on the grasslands in front of Ophiel, along with four other representatives from the other four cities. Erick was instantly pissed. They had yelled at each other for twenty minutes to get the arrangements of this meeting done correctly, and the royals were supposed to be there. So where were the other four royals? Nowhere good, probably.

Erick looked to King Killtree, who was the only royal of the group. The man was red of hair and pale of body, with a mean look to his clear eyes. He wore real armor and a bunch of magical items, along with a crown of deadwood.

The other four people were dressed in the normal livery of their nations, but they were no royals. Charme had sent a man in blood-red robes. North Curio had sent a man in ocean-blue armor. South Curio had sent a man in pale yellow robes. Pearl had sent a woman in white scalemail armor.

Erick asked Killtree, “Where are the other four of you?”

King Killtree answered with the deep voice of a warrior used to getting his way, “We don’t trust you to honor the sacredness of a peace talk.”

“HA! That’s rich coming from you, the man who killed Wellwisher at peace talks.”

“He was ready to unleash antirhine weapons at us. We acted first.”

“Cowshit. You should have run.” Erick said, “There is no reason to break the honor of peace talks.”

Killtree paused. “A Wizard speaks of honor, eh? If you had any honor at all you should have killed yourself when you discovered what you were. Instead, you endanger the whole world with your wanton magics, duping gods and men alike into believing you are something other than what you are; a world killer.”

“I saved your city from a ballooning spider horde, Killtree.”

“What happened there was that our bargain of trade with Kirginatharp was mutated by you into something that we never would have agreed with. You play peacemaker, but we know who you are. You are a Wizard from beyond the stars and you must be Ended for the good of us all.”

Erick was angry.

Very, very angry.

And yet…

Erick felt his anger passing him by, as one would pass a wreck on the highway; sure, you saw it, you might have slowed down a bit to look at it. But you moved on, because you had places to be and dwelling on anger wasn’t productive.

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With an almost clinical voice, Erick spoke to them all, “Is this how you all feel? Can there be no peace between us?”

Every single representative and even King Killtree suddenly shifted, as though they realized that they had pushed Erick too far, and the time for talking was over long before they even did much talking at all.

And in that moment, Erick realized that they were all talking a big game, but they wanted something out of him, specifically. They did not actually want a war at all. They were all steadfast in believing that they would win such a war, though. Especially King Killtree.

But they did not actually want… a war?

They wanted this peace talk here to be productive?

They had expected this peace talk to be productive.

Erick spoke directly to their unknowable thoughts, “What did you expect from speaking at me in this way? For your declaration of war to truly place you in power over me? To give you leverage of some sort? No. What has happened here is this: I tried talking peace with dictators and zealots like you before. With Terror Peaks, over in Songli. Even after Terror Peaks killed the envoys of Koyabez and then unleashed all out war, I still tried. I really, really tried over there. But we all know how that turned out. And so, I’m not about to try too hard with people like you. I am done talking to terrorists.” Erick spoke his ultimatum, “So tell me what you actually want from me, or this talk is ending now. We will have this war how I want to have this war. You, your people, and your entire way of life will not survive that outcome.”

For a long moment no one spoke verbally, but there were certainly a lot of telepathic lines coming off of everyone on the other side of the talk. Whatever they were thinking was opaque to Erick, but based on their eyes and their stances—

Erick instantly recognized that his approach was too hard. He had taken away all of the Cities options, for they needed to appear strong to their people. They would go to war with Erick simply because he was done talking, and he wasn’t giving them any ‘face’, as they would say in Songli.

So Erick backtracked.

He tried, “Shall we perhaps speak about how you expect this war to go? Perhaps we can come to some arrangement which doesn’t end in both of our nations suffering unduly, and with assassins of various types running around everywhere, harming those who do not need to be harmed. You spoke of ‘sparing the good people’ under my power, and so I would speak of the same, with you.”

Killtree instantly latched onto that whole vector of attack, proclaiming, “Our armies will wipe the Surface of your dragons and your soul-twisted warriors!”

Erick nodded. “So you wish to fight with armies, and not with bombs. In what way? How do you see this going?”

Killtree narrowed his eyes.

The man from Charme spoke, “It will be a war of the Light against the Dark! A polite war…” The man lost his train of thought as he stared at Erick’s avatar. His entire body broke out in a flop sweat.

Killtree slowly exhaled in frustration—

The woman from Pearl rapidly said, “It will be a hundred of ours against a hundred of yours, one battle per day. Here on these plains. Our good people of the Cities will tear down your entire civilization from the ground up, showing the world how evil you truly are as you make soul-mutilated ‘people’ fight for your cause. There will be no further raids upon either of our lands, as you did last night to the good people of our Cities, or this war will transform into one of assassins and dangerous magics.”

Erick almost shot back that he had saved lives last night inside the Cities, but that would be unproductive.

Instead, Erick said “Then it will be a polite war, as they do in Nelboor. How will victors be decided?”

“By the complete deaths of either side!” Killtree said, “A hundred of ours against a hundred of yours, every night. To the death.”

Erick asked, “And when I choose to go beyond death and to mutilate the souls of everyone you send my way? What then?”

“We would expect nothing less from a Wizard,” Killtree said, “You will prove our point a hundred times every night, and the world will see you for who you truly are.” He said to everyone else. “I’m done here.”

And then he vanished, flickering away in a splash of red magic.

The woman from Pearl said, “An hour before sunset, here on these plains. Gather your bravest, Wizard of Darkness, for we will crush them and when you run out of defenders, we will crush you.”

And then she vanished in [Teleport] magics, followed by everyone else in her group.

Erick’s lightform image briefly showed a frown before Ophiels lightstepped away, vacating the field.

– – – –

Inside Erick’s throne room, he sat, digesting those ‘peace talks’.

His first question was for anyone who felt like answering.

“So if I go and talk to the Dicers and ask them why they didn’t get a ‘polite war’ style war?” Erick asked, “What do you think they will say?”

Zolan answered, “The Dicers likely started with attempted assassinations, so traditional war was never an option. I also never believed that traditional war was an option, which is on me; I apologize for not advising you that this was possible.”

“That’s certainly not your fault, Zolan,” Erick said, “Nor is this lack of foresight the fault of anyone else but me— Oh. Kirginatharp joked that I might get a polite war out of this… Huh. Anyway. If I had a general of an army I could blame them, but I do not have such a person, nor I do not want such a person, either. This is all on me.”

And Erick was rather damned glad that he didn’t go to actual war last night; he stuck to helping people, and to causing as few waves as possible. While he had not intended for his lack of violence to open up the door to ‘polite war’ today…

This was a good outcome, yes?