Published at 14th of April 2026 11:54 pm

Chapter 175: Arms and Armory

This chapter is updated by JustRead.pl

Another project ready for testing, Zullie said. Project Capsule. I think this one might stand a good chance at eliminating the threat of those golden rays.

Good, Arkk said. What do you need? Volunteers or material?

Volunteers. They should expect discomfort, but nothing quite as life-altering as what those dark elves went through.

Arkk pursed his lips. He had asked Zullie to try to stick to projects that didnt require people. First of all, it was surprisingly difficult to find volunteers. Even with Kia and Claire openly demonstrating their altered abilities, there had been almost nobody willing to step forward and go through the same process. It didnt exactly help that Kianot so much Clairewas honest when people came to ask her how she felt about it.

Project Liminal split their consciousness across several realities, whatever that meant. It left the two of them a little unstable. It was apparently difficult to tell what things were real and what things werent real. There were a few anchor points. Arkk was always real. Or, at least, no alternate reality Arkk had ever appeared before them. There was also some sense of loss like they didnt quite belong anymore.

Neither were particularly bothered but neither dark elf had been particularly normal to begin with.

Did you test this new project on a chicken? Arkk asked, not sure what answer he wanted to hear.

Oh yes. Right over there, Zullie said, pointing to a far corner of the laboratory.

The whole room was a mess. Books and tomes were scattered across every surface. Large ritual circles had been drawn out across the floor so densely that avoiding them was almost impossible. Someone had dragged down some alchemy equipmentone bottle over a flame was in the process of boiling over. And, off in the corner, there was a little black ball covered in star-like lights that was surrounded by chicken feathers.

There was, however, no chicken.

Zullie if youre going to turn my men into balls of stars

The chicken is inside. I can see it, its alive and well for the moment.

You can see it? Arkk asked, looking through the witchs rectangular glasses where her eyes werent.

Sense it. Whatever, Zullie said with a disaffected shrug. The point is that the chicken is just failing to control its powers just like the chickens for all the other projects Frankly, it is amazing that they can use magic at all. I assume it is due to them being created through the magic of the fortress. Or maybe they count as contracted to you. Im not sure. Have too many other things to investigate.

Have you considered Arkk trailed off, slowly smiling as a thought occurred to him. Can Savren do any kind of mind-link with the chickens? Test the project on the chicken but use a proper person to control the power?

We considered that, Zullie said, wiping the smile off Arkks face. Unfortunately, mind control breaks apart when the subject undergoes the projects process.

Oh Just this project or all projects?

All weve tried, Zullie said. Sorry. You wanted an army of mind-controlled super-powered chickens, didnt you?

I wanted an army of chickens, yes, Arkk said not bothering to hide the sarcasm. Ill ask around. Have a detailed side-effects report ready by morning.

Already got it, Zullie said as she walked over to one of the desks. She started fumbling about with a small stack of papers, blindly moving her hands across the desktop. Her elbow knocked into a stack of books, sending them all to the ground. Drat.

Arkk shook his head slowly. Here. Let me help.

The streets of Elmshadow were bustling with activity. The vast majority of people present were soldiers, especially now that the Kings army had arrived. However, a moderate amount of citizens and villagers remained within its walls.

Some, mostly elderly, had failed to escape before Evestani took over the city. Once Evestanis soldiers were in charge, they were unable to leave. Evestani hadnt killed them but they hadnt exactly made life easy either. With all food stores requisitioned by the army, the native citizens had to scrape by with whatever they could manage.

The magical farms inside the tower were about the only thing properly feeding them at this point. Luckily, with spring having come, it was possible to start growing crops once more. Unfortunately, the elderly didnt make the best farmhands at the best of times. Half-starved and worn-down elderly were even worse.

Others had returned to Elmshadow. Former locals who had heard it had been recaptured. They could do some work. A few craftsmen put together fresh carts and a group of former stable hands managed to round up scattered livestocksheep and cows mostlythat had been set loose just before Evestani captured the city. Finding them all was impossible. Plenty of animals had probably perished in the winter, more were just lost in the wilderness. But some had come back.

Unfortunately, that only meant that now there were more mouths to feed. Both the additional people as well as the returned animals.

Alma stared out at the eastern side of the city, scratching at her pointed ears hidden underneath her cap, wondering how exactly all that led to this.

Two dozen skeletons danced about the fields. Literally danced. They cheered and sang and slammed their hoes into the ground. They scattered seeds, tilled in manure, and all around joyfully turned the hard and laborious work of farming into something akin to a waltz. Their bony feet tapped rhythmically against the soil, creating a symphony of clinks and clatters that harmonized with their jubilant melodies. Even the sun itself joined in on the fun, casting playful shadows through their ribcages, making them appear as if they were glowing with the gift of the Light itself.

It was surreal. Of all the things Alma had seen since being forced into Company Al-Mir, not even the giant walking fortress could quite compare to the absurdity of the situation in front of her.

She was supposed to be supervising them at the moment. As part of Arkks exchange with the people of the Necropolis, he was to instruct them on how to grow crops. It had been hundreds of years since anyone in the Necropolis had grown anything at all, after all. They needed a refresher.

Supposedly.

In Almas very private opinion, she thought they were all getting ahead of themselves. She had sat in on the meetings. She knew the situation. The First and Last Primeval Lord wanted to bring the living back to the Necropolis so they could grow their population or whatever. Just like the old days.

Except it wouldnt work out. Not right away, anyway. She didnt understand the mechanics behind it all, but she did pay attention to the effects. The Necropolis was like the Underworld and was suffering from an overabundance of magic. So much so that it was harming living creatures, including and especially crops. Even if a bunch of people went over there, they wouldnt be able to grow anything unless the magic levels lowered.

That did nothing to stop the Merry Company of Cheerful Cadavers from coming here to learn. Or, relearn, in some cases. A few of them were old enough to have been alive? Undead? Whatever. They were old enough to have farmed before.

Alma, as someone who had worked a dozen odd jobs in the past, was now in charge of them. She had some farming experience herself, having sold herself to villages in need of an extra set of helping hands practically every spring.

But she couldnt keep up. Mentally. Obviously, the physical labor of farming, even performed as jubilantly as it was, wasnt particularly fast work. It was just staring out at the dancing skeletons, Alma wasnt sure what to think of it all.

The villagers of Elmshadow were supposed to be out here as well. She wondered if the undead had even notied that their presence frightened all of them off.

They aint acting like any boneheads Ive seen.

Alma cocked an eyebrow, turning to her side to find a wrinkled old man leaning heavily on a cane. Almost all the villagers had been frightened off.

Youve seen skeletons farm before?

Farm? Nah. He scratched some of the scruff on his chin. Used to be part of the Sellswords of Camal. Dealt with an uppity necromancer once near sixty years ago? Was it really that long ago? With a sigh, the old man stared off for a moment, eyes going hazy. He shook his head.

Sir?

With his arms going limp, he dragged his feet as he moved a few steps forward. He let out a few false moans and groans before coughing lightly. They moved like youd expect. Slow, sluggish, uncoordinated. Even the necromancers elite guard were just bags of bones. Couldnt hold a candle to a proper soldier. The only thing they had going for them was tenacity.

Alma suddenly felt intensely uncomfortable. Also not an unfamiliar feeling since she had been forced into Company Al-Mir. Sorry if this drudged up some bad memories, she said quickly. Ill speak with my boss about I dont know, something. They couldnt get rid of them. And the labor was needed if Elmshadow wanted to be self-sufficient again. But

Bad memories? The old man laughed. The laugh fell into a hazy coughing fit before it could finish. You kidding me? Beating down that necromancer and his boneheads were some of the best fights I had. Best in terms of me crushing my enemies and them doing nothing to me. Id rather pick up my hammer and smash some skulls in again than fight with those Lightless Evestani.

Ah. Well, please dont. Theyre not here to fight. I know they look spooky but

Relax, kitten, the old man said, making Alma reach up to make sure her hat was still in place over her ears. I can hardly lift my old hammer.

Almas ears were fully hidden. She scowled at the old man, wondering how he knew. Thats not Theyre here to help.

Obviously. I may be old, but I have working eyes.

I dont mean to accuse. Its just Im in charge of them. Both keeping them on track and making sure they stay safe. Alma let out an exasperated sigh. Its like a diplomacy job that Im not prepared for but if anything happens to them I dont even know what might happen.

The old man snorted. Better keep your eye on Priest Harrin. Hes been grumbling about them since they first showed up. Think hes going to try to rush out and bless them back into their graves one of these days.

Alma closed her eyes, rubbing her temples. Yet another thing to worry about.

Say, they dont have throats. How do they sing?

How should I know? Alma snapped. Do I look like a skeleton to you? Go ask them.

They talk?

Alma didnt know why he sounded so surprised. They sing, dont they? she asked.

The old man hummed, looking down at the working and dancing skeletons with a different look in his eyes. Alma didnt care as long as he wasnt going to try to hurt them. She had a more pressing matter to attend to. Where can I find this priest?

Where else? Picking up the bricks of his broken church.

That didnt narrow things down. Evestani had demolished or at least defaced every Abbey-owned church in the burg, of which there were at least three. Which one?

All of them? the old man said with a shrug. You think theyd answer my questions?

What, the skeletons? Definitely. Honestly, they talk too much. The most unnerving thing about them isnt that theyre skeletons, its how friendly they are. Sing a song to them and they might crown you king of their little troupe. Alma sighed. Now I need to find someone to watch them while I go talk to this priest

Luckily, there were guards posted everywhere, even on the eastern side of the burg. Arkk was taking no chances with security. Taking one more look at the old man, deciding he wasnt a threat, Alma said, Ill be back in a bit, before hurrying off to find the closest group of Al-Mir guards.

I dont get it, Lexa hissed, lowering a spyglass. What are they waiting for?

Nobody who lived in Woodly Rhyme Burg would recognize it in its current state. Before the war, it had been like any other burg. A town just a bit larger than a village. Large enough to afford a wall around most of it, a keep for the local lord of the land, and a paltry garrison for the handful of soldiers charged with maintaining peace in the territory. It had hardly been anything special, lacking defining characteristics like Stone Hearth Burgs quarry or Silver Citys mines.

It certainly didnt lack character any longer. Evestani and the Eternal Empire were turning the entire place into a fortification of their own. The once toppled walls now stood taller than ever. Lexa had no idea where they were getting the material from. To the best of her knowledgeafter having asked the scrying teamthere were no nearby quarries.

It had to be the Eternal Empire. The army, nearly twenty-thousand strong, somehow lacked supply lines. They hadnt used them during their march and they didnt use them now. So either they were like Arkk and could expend wealth to simply generate supplies or they had some alternate way of getting what they needed. Possibly that flying vessel.

Lexa was betting on the latter for the simple fact that nothing around Woodly Rhyme looked at all like Fortress Al-Mir, the highlands fortress, or the ruins of the fortress in Darkwood Burg. The new constructions lacked the glowstones in the walls, the uniform tiles over every surface, and the magical fortifications to the brickwork. Everything had been built by manual human labor rather than that of the slime-like servants Arkk possessed or the shadowy servants that Ledas tower utilized. Everything was normal.

Except for the way they got their bricks.

The real puzzler was what they were doing at all. It had been two weeks since they arrived. During Evestanis first charge through Mystakeen, they hadnt stopped for longer than a few days at any one place, with the sole exception of Gleeful Burg when Arkk destroyed their food supplies. That had been a massive reason why they had gotten as far as they had.

Now, they were stopped and were showing no signs of preparation for forward advancement. Though, admittedly, that obscuring fog they used covered most of the burg. But it was clear that they were entrenching rather than advancing.

It wasnt like Lexa didnt understand. If she were in charge, she wouldnt want to assault Arkk at Elmshadow either. The place was even more fortified than Fortress Al-Mir. But Evestani and the Eternal Empire wouldnt have come this far without a plan, right?

Unless their plan was just to camp here forever to try to push Evestani borders forward into Mystakeen. That could be the case, though if what she had heard while snooping around Arkk lately was true, Evestani was in for a bit of a surprise when the Prince revealed his hand.

But that seemed too easy.

Lexa didnt like it.

Arkk had told her in no uncertain terms that she was not to approach, but just watching the walls from afar wasnt getting her any information. The trees around werent the kind tall enough to get her to any real vantage point. In fact, almost every tree even remotely close to Woodly Rhymes walls had been chopped down. Trees were the one resource she knew Evestanis source for.

Lexa pulled her shadowy cloak around her a little tighter. She tugged the hood over her face, making sure she was fully concealed. Even with the cloth in front of her eyes, she could see out.

She could get in. She could figure out what they were doing and what they were planning. As long as she stuck to the shadows, nobody would ever know she was around. The only threat was the avatar.

Lexa bit her lip. The avatar. That bastard. Just thinking about him got her blood tumping.

The current theory was that the avatar wasnt present. It was likely that tattooed children were inside Woodly Rhyme, ready to receive the avatar when needed. However, nobody had seen the actual avatar. Scrying was partially obstructed by the fog and none of the scouts like her had gotten inside, so the information could be inaccurate. But immediately after arriving, the avatar had spent practically every day coming out to the walls and just glaring off into the distance. That had stopped at the start of this week.

He was out recruiting, preparing, or was otherwise engaged. Supposedly.

It was a risk. She could get in and out with a wealth of knowledge. Or she could get caught by the avatar.

Closing her eyes, Lexa muttered a few spells under her breath. Every spell she had relied on throughout her life. Every little spell to help people gloss over her, to help her move a little quieter and a little faster, and to help her keep calm even in stressful situations.

Spells finished, Lexa opened her eyes and scanned over the burgs wall. Highlighted through one of her spells, she could see the perfect handholds that would let her scale up over on one side, well away from any lights or guards.

Taking a breath, hyping herself up, Lexa took off in a stealthy dash.

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