Published at 23rd of July 2026 9:59 am

Chapter 309 - The Advance

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Liuan Var stared at the message in her hand, then scowled as she let magical flames consume it. Three days. It took these bloody idiots three days to get a message here? A zephyr falcon should have gotten it to her in one. But of course, half the RID didn’t know what they were doing anymore and the general staff of the Akanan Army was stretched to the breaking point. Now with Ibrahim’s forces joining them on the left flank, even the constant influx of supply ships wouldn’t be enough—what in the five hells had that idiot been doing to feed his troops before he had the teat of Akanan logistics to suck on?

And now, not only had Alatishad slipped from her grasp, there’d been some sort of attack on Mercanton, and she had to deal with fucking Celen.

At least the RID still had some competent people. They’d managed to help Jherica “lose” their violet focus within hours. There was still time to deal with Celen. The problem was, now she was in Urubandar, and that idiot could be anywhere in Akana Praediar by now. She couldn’t afford to go back, though. With Gabriel, Ibrahim, and Mirian in play in this section of the world, she couldn’t manage the upcoming battles from Akana, especially given the deviations in the timeline.

Two colonels saluted, then knelt as they entered the room. She waved at them to rise and speak. They were both shaking slightly. That was good; it meant she’d cultivated her reputation properly. One of them stepped forward. “Sacred One, scouts are reporting Zhighuan armed forces advancing west of Alatishad. Our forward elements were forced to retreat.”

“As expected. Dismissed.”

The colonels bowed and left. And now Zhuan’s in play, too. Since when did she learn to deploy forces outside of Zhighua? The woman had spent endless cycles learning how to best take over her own country. She’d spent as many loops expanding manufacturing capabilities and organizing arcanists to give supplemental assistance to the construction of the leyline regulator. She’d never seen her demonstrate this capability. Too many cycles to account for. She must have practiced in secret, Liuan decided. Still, Liuan’s army was bigger. Much bigger. And that probably meant that the leyline regulator had to be suffering from delays given how much production would have been needed to be withdrawn from Mayat Shadr to assemble this force.

She needed to attack soon. Even if she failed to take those old ruins, even the ability to cut off logistics would be enough to cause the project to fail. And if she kept pressure on Palendurio and Mahatan, that would coerce yet more forces to be diverted to protect those areas. She’d demonstrated her ability to strike quickly at a Gate, so Mirian would be keeping at least some of her elite units spread out.

Meanwhile, she would concentrate her power and punch through whatever defense they could muster. The world had never seen an army like hers. Not yet.

Ideally, Liuan could deploy her dreadnoughts east of their position and prevent all movement west of Alatishad, but that would be exposing them to the likes of Mirian or smaller strike teams. No, the army would have to advance as one. Her experiments with skiff raids had proven that air power alone was insufficient.

Ibrahim and his pet necromancer were a welcome boon. As much as the idiot Persaman annoyed her, both he and Atrah Xidi were enough of a threat to Mirian that she’d be reluctant to confront them. That Ibrahim insisted on guarding their logistical tail was fine by her.

First, though, she needed to deal with Celen.

“Delay meetings for the next half-hour,” she ordered her honor guard. The Sorcerer Elite, clad now in adamantium jewelry, saluted in acknowledgment.

Then she retired to her inner chamber and shut the doors.

 

***

 

Celen was easy enough to find in the Ominian’s dream. He and Jherica had innumerable little places they liked to meet, but she knew them all. She found Celen searching the lakes north of Arborholm. Though the dreamscape was linear, it wasn’t in the present day; the waters were as they looked before human settlement. Minerals from the mountains far to the north gave the waters a vivid cyan color, and the ancient trees sheltered with impossibly tall canopies that made the great temples of west Baracuel look small in comparison.

“Celen,” she called to him.

His soul startled and turned around to face her. She felt a wild mix of emotions radiating off him, completely uncontained: fear, glee, desperation, and sorrow. Always the sorrow. As if he’d lost more than the rest of them. As if he’d lost more than her. Even after all these years, he had no discipline, no self-control.

“The five hells won’t be enough for your rotten soul,” he said.

“I don’t know what Mirian did to you, but—”

“Oh quit lying! She hasn’t touched me. I trusted you. We trusted you. I won’t make the same mistake again. You can chase me to the end of time, but you’ll never catch me again.”

Liuan sent out annoyance, but secretly she was pleased. Then Mirian hadn’t actually made contact with him.

If he was still looking for Jherica, he probably hadn’t meddled too much with the political situation. That was good. He knew too much, and could start to tip things. If even a few supply ships got cut off, they were going to run into problems. The army was rounding up myrvites in Persama for the soulforges, but they needed the already processed fuel still coming in from Akana.

Fortunately, she’d been manipulating Celen for years. She knew what he wanted. She knew how he thought.

“I don’t know why you all are even bothering. Jherica already moved on to the next cycle when I asked them to. Without enough anchors, its impossible for Mirian’s faction to win. The fate of Enteria is already decided. When she’s gone, I can help undo whatever she did to you. The rest of us are just making sure she doesn’t waste any more relicarium to spite us. What you do next is of no concern to me. Just know that if she catches you, she will remove your anchor. Her poison has only had one purpose.”

Doubt wormed its way out of Celen’s soul. There were pressures on his mind that made her words feel more trustworthy to him. Contradictory memories roped off. “I’m good at recovering memories. I remember some of those ‘experimental’ sessions now. The lies are done,” he said, but with less confidence than he was projecting.

“She tried to warp Jherica’s memories. That’s why I had them leave. Whatever false memories she implanted—”

Finally, there was that hint of anger, overwhelming the despair. “I know what’s real again. It’s interesting dynamic you’ve created here in Akana. What do you think they’ll do when a different Prophet starts contradicting all the things you’ve said?”

That could be a problem. She needed to shift tactics. “I’d appreciate if you did. It will make it much easier to find you. You know you can’t win, right?” she told Celen, making sure he could feel her contempt. “There will only be one at the end of this. Troytin figured out one truth: The Ominian has only ever wanted a single Prophet. If what you want is Jherica, you may as well give up now.”

A flash of despair from Celen—then resolve. “You’ve never had evidence for that line of thinking. If the timeline survives, the timeline survives. And you know nothing of the Ominian.”

Liuan wasn’t done maneuvering him. “You still have no soul ascensions. You lack the ability to see the truths of the world, to grow closer to God.”

Celen laughed at her. “And who was it, when we went to the Mausoleum in the flesh, who was closest to God? It wasn’t enraged Ibrahim. It wasn’t powerful Mirian. It wasn’t curious Jherica. It certainly wasn’t you. We were all picked for a reason, Liuan. You, for the woman you used to be. Me, because of all the Prophets, I know the Ominian best. There’s no growing closer to Divitrius; I’m already by Their side. My soul resonates with Theirs…because I know Their sorrow.” As if to punctuate those words, a ripple moved through the nearby lake. Just a single tremor, but it emanated from Celen’s spot on the shore.

She momentarily let a reaction of shock slip from her soul, then brought herself under control. That wasn’t exactly expected, but she could work with it. Whatever he’d done to manipulate the dream like that didn’t matter. She’d continue putting the pressure on him. “Just enjoy your little adventure while you can. It won’t last much longer.”

Celen laughed again, and the bitterness of it washed around the lakeshore. “You wouldn’t still be talking to me if you had things under control. I’ve watched you. You don’t gloat. You just plan. But the Ominian doesn’t care for plans. Do you think the Elder Gods didn’t care for Enteria? They had their plans. None of you understand the true purpose of the time loop. This was never a problem that could be solved. You think we can stop what the Ominian couldn’t? You think the insects scurrying beneath Their feet can fix a broken world? We can’t even agree that the idea of fixing the world is a good one! If the Elder Gods couldn’t stop their strife, what chance do people have?”

Again, Liuan masked her emotions. He was working himself into a frenzy, so she might as well see where it would go.

“Humanity has too many flaws to make it out of this. Our worst impulses betray us. You of all people have seen how greed and fear are far more exploitable than love. No… the story of humanity is one of tragedy. While you were all trying to understand those truths, I spent hundreds of cycles knowing Divitrius. Understanding Their dream. That is the purpose of this loop; to bring us in synchronization—to embrace despair, and find what They found in the end—acceptance. Acceptance of our fate. The wisest Prophet-kings couldn’t help but pave a road to our inevitable oblivion. Now, the last time loop is humanity’s memorial, a little bloody plinth wedged in the fields of time.”

Liuan suppressed a scoff. And she’d thought she was a bit of a misanthrope. “Did you practice this little speech?”

His soul vibrated. Behind him, the lake waters were billowing with churned sediment, and the cyan waters were fading into a sickly gray. “I hope when the despair takes you, you finally understand how wrong you’ve been, and how petty and stupid all the pain you caused was. Everything you’ve done, Liuan, has been for nothing. It all becomes ash, in the end. The only thing to do was to find someone to love, and you couldn’t even do that.”

With that, Celen vanished from the dream.

Rage swept through Liuan. He dared speak to her of love? Then she calmed herself. Emotions were distractions. Weaknesses. She pushed through them.

She examined the area, trying to understand how he’d deformed the dream like that. After a moment, she stopped herself. She could always investigate the dream later. There was too much to be done. She’d worked too hard and waited too long for her plans to be derailed now.

Liuan woke herself. If Celen hadn’t already killed himself to evade her, she’d help him along. She quickly sent out orders to have Jherica assassinated and for the RID search for Celen to focus on Vadriach City.

 

***

 

“All plans are finalized for your review, Sacred One,” Grand Marshal Cearsia said. “All army groups are beginning to marshal in preparation.” The supreme commander of the Akanan Army had a new scar across her face, Liuan noted. It fit her well.

Together they levitated to the command room of the Ascendant Ominian, guard of Sorcerer Elite trailing them on their way to the grand airship. She looked over the plans. Direct command of a battle was not Liuan’s expertise; she concerned herself more with the political and religious strings that allowed the assembly of an army. However, she had learned a thing or two over a hundred years. She could recognize a good battle plan, and recognize where her suggestions had shaped it. Cearsia’s command staff also had been promoted more for competence and less from nepotism; she already knew they did good work.

Cearsia had shored up the left flank, meaning Ibrahim would have a harder time fucking with them, if that was his intention. With the Church of the Ominian priests formally incorporated into units, they’d have at least some defense against soul magic. Military intelligence would even be keeping an eye on Gabriel, just in case. Xecatl was crippled, Jherica and Celen would soon be dead; she had narrowed the variables to the best of her ability.

“Approved,” she said, and several of the command staff visibly relaxed. Liuan moved from the command room through the bridge to the observation tower. Below, in the bridge, Cearsia ordered the ascent of all four dreadnoughts, each shining with new orichalcum armor and deck plating. At least Jherica had been useful; they should have discarded Celen ages ago.

As the massive Akanan airships rose into the air, a cheer went up. Liuan surveyed the forces at her disposal, exultation rising in her chest. Beyond merely the four great airships, there were some two hundred skiffs that ascended with them, soaring gracefully through the air.

All across Urubandar, banners displaying the blue and white double-headed eagle of Akana waved in the coastal winds. It was impossible for one person to count the rest of the forces; thousands of spellcarts were prepared with guns, shield engines, and the very best wards and divination schemes. Hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of people had been recruited to bolster the army’s already prodigious ranks. The Setarab River was clogged with gunboats and smaller frigates that could deal with the shallow draft. Behind them were so many spell barges that they could line them up and make a dozen bridges.

The airships rising was the signal.

Clouds of dust drifted from the camps spilling out of the city. She could see the snaking columns of spellcarts and marching troops assembling. There were so many carts moving, so many feet pounding the dirt, that the haze that was rising up looked like a duststorm. Every road in Urubandar was clogged with the assembling troops, and the farmland outside the city was either covered in camps or soldiers. There, too, the white and blue banners of Akana flapped in the wind. West on the ocean were several battleships and frigates, the ones not guarding the convoys. Those hulking ships glittered in the bright Persaman morning. It was a stirring sight.

Even as they rose, Liuan could hardly make out Ibrahim’s own army of Persamans to the north, nor could she see the end of their forces to the south.

Liuan Var breathed in the scent of it. The dusty air tinged with foss plumes smelled sweeter than roses to her.

This was the might of Akana. This was the might the true Elder God of Enteria had bestowed upon her. In some distant cycle, this was the army that would sweep away all opposition and unite them all under the glory and freedom of Akana Praediar.

For now, though, it merely needed to conquer one little stretch of river and some old ruins.

Liuan hit the communication glyph near her, broadcasting her orders to the bridge below. “Grand Marshall. Begin the advance.”

Amplify voice engines blared out; communications spells blazed to life. Thousands of sergeants barked out orders, and the thousands of assembled columns marched forward.

From horizon to horizon, the Akanan army began to rumble forward.

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