Published at 12th of June 2026 6:29 am

Chapter 296 Drumbeats

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Idras had expected, when hed been called by name by the Prophet Mirian, to die. The accusations, after all, were true. Hed been spying in Torrviol for years by then, and was already complicit in several murders. Operations, they were called, but changing the word didnt change the deed.

Instead, of all places, shed sent him back to Akana Praediar.

Hed arrived before the blockades came down properly. He had some fake documents that had genuine seals and verifiable corroborating documents. The RID had made them for him just in case, and it had made getting past customs easy. Now he was walking the dockside of Mercanton, already sick of the mingling smells of seaweed and trash.

Shed told him he was going alone, but that wasnt quite true. Shed sent two students over. He didnt think he was supposed to know about it, but theyd all ended up on that last passenger ship over before the cessation of travel was put into place, and the two kept arguing with each other in Friian, which was a dead giveaway. Hed picked up that their names were Valen and Selesia. The latter was Akanan. He was pretty sure she was part of one of the southern semi-autonomous zones. Semnol, maybe? Or maybe Takoa.

Either way, those two had headed off south, apparently to go visit Selesias family. If those two had been ordered to do some sort of secret operation, he feared for them.

As for himself

He still couldnt wrap his head around it. Shed taken aside the spies and told them some of the details. Hed apparently personally killed her several times. Hed helped Akana slaughter Torrviol. Shed watched him do it. Hed killed all her friends, killed her whole damn townand the worst part was, he didnt doubt it for a moment. He knew what hed been prepared to do. He knew the outlines of Operation Zenith. Hed even been suspicious of the whole garbage they were being sold about the Divine Weapon, mostly because hed overheard some of the wizards talking about how they didnt know what the device down there did, but hed been ready to do it anyways.

He would have gone through with it. He would have killed them.

And shed forgiven him.

Idras had thought about that nearly the whole boat ride, and it still didnt sit right with him. He didnt deserve it, and he damn well knew it. She had to know it too. But shed dumped him back in his home and asked for some favors. No leverage. No one to check up on him. Not only had she forgiven him, she was trusting him.

It was stupid. Absurd.

And even stupider, he was actually thinking of doing it.

The first order of business was simple enough. He figured he could gather some of that information she wanted. Maybe hed act on it, maybe he wouldnt but this part was easy. All the drydocks were close to the sea, and he could count the ships in the harbor just by walking along the seaside.

What he saw was already troubling. While demand for shipping had been steadily rising, Akana Praediar had a lot more shipbuilding capacity than it needed. Work in the drydocks was usually slow, but steady, and there were always a few empty yards where the steelworkers and forge-sorcerers were waiting for a contract to come in before they started on another hull.

That lethargic reality had ceased entirely.

Every drydock was occupied by the massive steel hulls they cradled. Every shipyard was full, with workers swarming everywhere. The air was full of the clang of metal and the hiss of steam. Forge-sorcerers were using shape metal spells to piece together giant hull plates, while when he passed the steelworking factories, he could see more of the giant hull plates being strapped onto spellcarts for transport. He could hear the industrial hammers all drumming away inside the factories. Not only that, there were recruitment posters looking to hire more hands all over the street.

Idras made his way through the rest of the factory district, and those were all at capacity too. Even as evening fell, there were new shifts coming in. The mutterings in the street were what Mirian had told him; people angry about apparent attacks by Baracuel, people scared that there might be more.

There were reports of Baracueli and Persaman fanatics carrying out attacks on civilians across Akana. Idras was skeptical. That sounded like one of the controversial tactics that Project Zenith had thought about deploying if the support for the war wasnt high enough.

Even after sunset, the recruitment offices of the Akanan Army were still open, with a line around the block. Whatever this Liuan Var had told everyone, it had worked. He asked around about where she was supposed to be, and ten people told him twelve different places. One had said she was in a meeting with church leaders in Arborholm, another that she was in Ferrabridge overseeing production of a new kind of military spell cart, while another was sure she was in Vadriach. One woman said shed fled to the other end of the country in Westshire, or maybe Frontier. Clearly, after her initial appearances, she was hiding for fear of assassination.

Even divination spells as powerful as Mirians could only reach so far. It was a big world to hide in, and it seemed the gears of war were already turning. Mercanton wasnt even the biggest production center of the country. That was Ferrabridge.

The next morning, he took another casual stroll throughout the city and noted there were observers positioned along the coast, while a new divination machine was being propped up. There were a few visible artillery batteries being established in plain sight, which meant, per army doctrine, there would be hidden defensive batteries supporting them.

That was all he saw, but he could guess the rest. Every country had archmage protocols in place to deal with a rogue spellcaster of immense power. After all, not every archmage liked the idea of registering with their government. Standard practice was to use divination machines to detect unauthorized levitation at a distance, then commit the Sorcerer Elite. However, Mirian had casually mentioned that in a previous cycle, Liuan had tested her not just with the Elite, but with a band of archmages. But that had been a defensive situation. If Mirian were to attack, she wouldnt just have to deal with the response group, but with all the hostile artillery.

Mirian could no doubt detect the artillery, but that meant slowing down to do divination, which would give time for elite regiments to respond. She could move fast, instead, but that meant draining a lot of mana for preemptive shielding, and risked getting caught in overwhelming fire from unexpected positions. No doubt, Liuan had response groups positioned in each of the major cities. If Mirian was going to find her Prophet counterpart, shed have to track her down while her position was being deliberately obfuscated, all while fighting.

Idras considered what he would do. It seemed like it might be a good idea to fly over, blow up a few factories, and cut a few rail lines. That might put Akana in a more defensive posture and cut critical production.

But Akana had thousands of factories, and such an attack would galvanize any of the population that was still skeptical of the propaganda they were being fed. Right now, a few broadsheets were still arguing about the facts of the magical eruptions and the sudden death of so many RID figures and industrialists, but no one could deny thousands of witness if they watched an enemy Prophet attack their city. And factories and rail lines could be repaired quite quickly if you had enough workers.

He stopped at a dockside restaurant and treated himself to some proper Akanan cooking. Hed hoped it would taste like home, but something had sapped away the taste. It tasted as gray as his mood felt.

Idras still wasnt sure what he was willing to do for this Mirian, but already, he hoped she was ready for what was coming. kana Praediar had never been mobilized to this degree for a war before.

***

Night fell on Alkazaria, and the city seemed to be holding its breath.

Praetorian Trinea watched from one of Citadels towers. The Praetorian strike team had been scheduled to leave Palendurio on the 4th of Solem, but with news of the war, most had never left west Baracuel. Right now, they would be supporting the army as it continued to skirmish along the coast. She hoped her friends were fighting well. She prayed for their safety.

The Praetorians were still shaken by what had happened to the First Praetorian. No entry. No wards disturbed. Simply dead behind a locked door. He and a dozen others across Baracuel, smote by the Ominian.

It bothered her. She had known Voran. Hed always served Baracuel. Always persevered, even when he had to make tough calls.

That wasnt all that troubled her. Word was that undead soldiers had been spotted joining Ibrahims uprising. The Dawns Peace leader was not a complete unknown like this Mirian Nezzar, but hed organized Rambalda and seized the border forts with an ease that was just as frightening as how fast Mirian had brought all of Baracuel to heel. It was the kind of power the Praetorians were supposed to protect against. Here, modern Baracueli law butted up against the highest laws of the Luminate Order, and Trinea still wasnt sure if she sided with the Pontiff or not.

Either way, they now had people streaming through Alkazaria on their way southeast while the Dawns Peace army had formed a camp along the Ibaihan River, just north of the second fort. Trinea wasnt privy to the rapid diplomatic messages that were being exchanged, but it seemed the Persaman army was content to stay there as long as they didnt make any moves themselves. Still, it rankled her that the very arch necromancer that theyd been sent to stop had risen. The nightmare of Baracuel, reawakened.

And yet, the Prophet Mirian seemed unconcerned by this development.

Then, shed gotten word that the main boulevard be cleared and the underground tunnel leading to the newly discovered Alkazaria Gate be widened.

Then shed told the Praetorians that had come east what she was planning on bringing.

Trinea still couldnt believe it.

Now, as she watched the dark form lumbering towards the city from the north, she couldnt help but stare in horror. The Prophet hadnt been lying. If anything, shed been underselling the size of the beast.

Above in the sky, Mirian Nezzar hovered, some spell of hers creating a display of misting silver light. No one looking up could miss her. She levitated just above the myrvite titan shed called Apophagorga.

The First Prophet had needed the gift of Prophecy just to fight a myrvite titan. Here Mirian was having brought one to heel!? It boggled the mind. Just what kind of power did this woman have?

She heard what she thought was a steady drumbeat rising in the distance, then realized, no, it was the six legs of the Elder titan as it slowly advanced. The creature seemed to be walking gingerly, its glowing eyes scanning the city.

It cant fit through the city gate, she thought as it approached, but then, part of the creature seemed to disappear as the rest of it moved through.

A silent crowd had gathered to watch the beast pass. The whole thing was surreal; it seemed like a nightmare where one watched a monster approach and couldnt move. Step by step, Apophagorga gently moved down the main boulevard. It brushed too close to a street lamp, and the iron poll crumpled like it was made of paper. Trineas heart beat faster as the beast froze and glanced up. The Prophet still hovered above, silver light still gleaming steadily.

The beast continued.

Closer and closer it came to the Citadel, and all the doubts that had wormed through Trinea were screaming now. What better opportunity to bring a city to ruin than to unleash such a horror in the night? What if she was really their destroyer?

Then, just as it had with the city entrance, the beast partially vanished, slipping as quietly as it could through the tunnel to the Elder Gate below. It vanished from her sight, only leaving a steady yet fading drumbeat of footsteps. The Prophet came down from her spot in the sky to levitate after it, her silver light gracefully arching down into the passage.

A few minutes later, it was like Trinea had just burst from the water and taken a desperately needed gasp of air. A presence had lifted, and her heart wasnt hammering so hard.

No attack. Apparently, the beast was needed in Zhighua.

It was all insanity. The world had gone mad.

In the dim glow of a glyph lamp, Trinea dug a letter shed received out of her pocket.

It was a short letter, and unsigned. Shed found it waiting for her in her rooms just after shed arrived in Alkazaria. Trinea had tried to trace its origin with divination and interrogating the servants and guards in the Citadel, but they all claimed to have seen nothing.

The contents claimed that it was Mirian whod killed Voran, and that it was the cost of her alliance with the dread necromancer Atrah Xidi. The anonymous writer offered aid in taking down the Prophet. At first, Trinea had thought it might have come from one of the other Prophets Mirian had spoken of, the ones that had apparently betrayed Enteria and the Ominian. However, their expertise in subterfuge seemed not to match their prescience. The letter referred to her as Mirian Castrella, not Nezzar. More, it was Ibrahim who seemed to be allied with the necromancer, not Mirian. Finally, Trinea had been a few rooms away from Praetorian Voran when hed died. To the best of her knowledge, around that time, Mirian was in front of a crowd of hundreds on Torrviol, having just received her visions of the futureor finished living them, if her tales were to be believed.

Still, it bothered her. Who had written this, and what did they know? What did they seek to gain? Was Mirian actually allied with Ibrahim? She had met selfless people. Her good friend Adria was always working for a greater cause. Had been, she mentally corrected. Yet the question was if Mirian was one of those selfless people, or if she had just put on a cloak to shroud her ambition. Twice now, Trinea had thought of approaching the Prophet with the letter. Twice, shed stopped herself.

The Praetorian carefully folded up the letter and put it back in her pocket. She would continue to assess the situation before she made any decisions. The stakes were too high for anything else.

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