Book 9 - Epilogue |
Jake awoke from his slumber with Bloodberri’s tail wrapped tightly around his body in her ‘snake-dog’ pajamas, but his head was resting on Bree’s lap as she combed through his hair. His wives lay scattered throughout the bed, wearing their pajamas and hugging one another. Even Ruby had joined them to sleep, everyone resting after the celebratory enjoyment and excitement.
It seemed they had changed places after he had fallen asleep, some requiring more rest than others. As always, they knew who was pregnant right away. The next generation of Jake and his wives’ progeny was underway, and they were sure about it. Yona had joined Bloodberri in motherhood as planned. Ophelia and Tanda planned on joining them later, each in their own session with Jake, no doubt.
And Fhesiah also intended to join them but was planning on ‘forging’ her demoness child along with Jake–and that simply wasn’t something to do in the middle of an orgy, exactly. They would do this during their own private session in the coming days, no doubt.
The bliss was prevalent in their bonds, as now it really felt like they could finally relax. In many respects, it was a short war across several worlds. That it only took less than a single year to conclude so many battles was a bit shocking, but Tartarus had truly accelerated things by stacking the danger and effort on The Burning Steps.
When they overturned the betrayal plots on all the worlds, it was simply a matter of playing the game of war, and Jake’s people were simply too effective and mobile. And, far more numerous. Jake was impressed with all that his people had built and just how many heroes they truly had in his guild. Clan Hart was on another level, but he knew for certain his people wouldn’t be looked down on by anyone.
However, it still felt like an eternity to fight this multi-fronted war. They had still worked around the clock, and nearly everything they did had to be done while considering the war and a somewhat desperate schedule. It was like they were working eighty-plus-hour workweeks, and it was only because they didn’t need to sleep that they still managed to find time to spend with their children or on themselves in between.
Even while traveling between worlds, it didn’t really feel like they had a break or vacation, even if they did get a few moments to relax and unwind.
Berri groaned as she hugged Jake tightly with her powerful tail and stretched her arms above them. “Mmm, that was wonderful. Finally, we’re making more beautiful babies. What’s next, Jakey?”
“We just told Bree’s sisters more or less. More crafting. More…this, though with a whole lot more tempering. We’ll just spend a little bit of time at Haldrith before heading home to Highlands. We’ll likely anchor there until the war starts.”
Ophelia nodded. “And they like to be the visitors sometimes too. We’re going to check out Old Man Xuan and Avalara’s castles, right?”
Berri perked up at that, and Jake chuckled at the thought. “Of course. I’ll need to do my enchantments on them and prepare all our other defenses. Whether our world is used in the opening event or not depends, I’ve heard. We won’t know the event until it happens, but it’s definitely better to have defenses and not need them than to need defenses and not have them. And eventually, they will definitely get used.”
Berri smiled at that. “I’m happy if we just relax a little more like this. I wonder if Yona will have a boy or a girl. Which do you want? What names are you thinking of?”
Yona was stretching too, and now she giggled. “I’m not sure yet! I think I’ll wait until I hold them in my arms. Is that okay, Master? Do you have a preference?”
Jake shook his head. “I’ve gotten plenty of opportunities to name our children. If you have a specific desire, that’s an easy compromise to make. I get the feeling this is what Sati would do as well.”
Sati nodded from where she floated above the bed, in her usual lotus pose. “That is right. Until I feel their fate, I would prefer not to name them. Still, one can have many names. I’m fine with whatever my Ishvara chooses.”
Berri smiled as she thought of the idea of naming her kids. “And if not for our ability to sort of see our baby inside our eggs developing, I’d need to wait too! Still, it’s early for me to tell just what kind of fire and…monstrous nature our baby will have. Maybe in a few weeks I can name all of them.” She rubbed her flat belly proudly.
Tanda and Ophelia started talking about what they would name their next children, and the whole family started discussing potential names for their next valkyrie and beastkin children, despite them not being pregnant yet. Soon enough, they would be, and then it would only be a few months before they entered the world.
For now, Jake allowed himself to relax as he ran his fingers through Yona’s hair and scratched her ears, causing her to purr. He had a lot to do, but everything could certainly wait a few more hours.
***
As planned, they left the world, taking flight to Haldrith. The trip went on like any other lately, with Jake and his family handling their usual tasks: research, crafting, training, and, for many of them, leading or administering their guild and kingdom in between family events.
It was less than a week before they saw some of the results of Ainora and Isolyn’s promise. Hundreds of Valtor’s open buy orders were fulfilled, and dozens of gifts, their ‘sincerity,’ had arrived directly to their Refuge for Bloodberri.
Most of them were powerful monster corpses, to Jake’s surprise, which he had to find interesting ways to cook up for his lovely wife and Echidna children–as well as set aside the bones and other components for her axe. They would all gain from these corpses, thanks to their chimeral nature.
This was meant to only be a part of the forgiveness, as they planned to give some gifts to their children much more directly. The two demigods had an open query about them so they could better obtain information about each child for a more personalized gift before they met them.
Sati’s spiritual distillery and Fhesiah’s alchemical one both got to work to refine the numerous treasures, as well as combine and enhance them further. Meanwhile, Avalara and Tanda had been growing various plants with condensed auril and nethril energy, helping fuel Fhesiah’s efforts. Because each natural life and death treasure needed to be combined with auril and nethril before being enhanced, it was a process that involved nearly the entire family.
On The Great Maw, Hearthtribe’s Subguilds and many of their elites looking to continue to hunt arrived. Isolyn and Ainora had claimed the other Primal Dominion Node in that valley, but Bree had learned that they had left almost immediately after some of Hearthtribe’s reinforcements had arrived to defend it.
And now, Clan Hart was doing something they did every week–play-fighting as a family, on their mock-up of the Champion’s Rift.
“Aiko is MIA! I repeat, the speedy menace is missing from the top lane!” Timothy said, firing his arrows at the automaton constructs.
“Ooh! They noticed she was missing. Check the jungle! She’s probably grabbing the magic buff!” Berri chimed in, her voice bouncing with glee over the speakers. “You should push bottom lane, Team Jake! You’ve got minion advantage! Don't let Clara zone you out!”
Clara whined from the bottom lane, scoffing. “That’s not cool, Mommy Berri! The announcer’s not supposed to tip off the players!”
Down in the massive, magically expanded training biome Jake had constructed for exactly this purpose, the air hummed with competitive tension. It was a sprawling, three-lane arena carved through artificial jungles and rivers, dotted with defensive obelisks that fired mana blasts within their bubbled radius.
The rest of the children watched on screens from the benches overlooking the valley, cheering for their brothers and sisters playing and talking among themselves. After all, they would be next, and they had to come up with their own strategies for victory.
“Watch the brush!” Jake shouted, sprinting down the river toward the bottom lane with his polearm at the ready. “Nora is hunting for Aiko for now. Don't overextend!”
The teenage-like warriors rushed into the tower’s radius, orbs of chaotic energy being shot at the first to arrive in the sphere of danger. Rena held her shield to absorb the periodic blasts, an odd aura from their gear dulling the blows as she protected their melee automatons.
There was an outline that floated around each of their bodies, like an odd scaffolding of light that floated inches from their skin. It defended the girls from taking too much damage, a safety net as well as a tunable experience.
There were several good reasons for this protection. Many of them were already used to fighting against mana constructs, but those battles were usually highly planned and tuned. This was to help prepare their kids for the pain and danger of combat but also prevent them from hurting each other significantly.
Of course, children loved to roughhouse, and Jake’s kids were no different. But using weapons and magic was a much more dangerous thing. Permanent physical harm was thankfully not a threat, but it was still important to protect the mind.
It would break Jake’s or his wives’ hearts for them to ever see one of their kids flinch or be afraid as a reaction to one of their mothers or himself. Let alone one of their brothers or sisters, because someone had gone a little overboard in a game. Pain and the terror felt from broken limbs or wounds that brought someone near death were not simple things to just wash away with a mere healing spell.
And at the same time, it was not a good idea to continue sheltering them from pain and danger forever if they intended to fight in the dungeons in the next year. That would just turn them into greenhouse flowers that would wither at the sign of any true challenge or danger.
Using the special equipment, they could tune the percentage of pain that they felt and also prevent themselves from experiencing an accidental death. Once the threshold for damage was done, without receiving healing, the lights on their equipment would flash and take them back to the respawn zone.
Plus, the equipment also provided a useful and necessary value–of making the game a little more fair by normalizing everyone’s output. This way, even the younger or weaker children could feel like they could compete. And Jake and his wives could play right alongside their kids as equals.
“Tower aggro is on me!” Rena called out, bracing her shield as another mana orb crashed against her barrier. “Nyxa, let’s get it down now!”
Nyxa slithered behind her sister, hurling a volley of concentrated dark-mana bolts directly at the obelisk's crystal core. The crystal cracked, its health bar hovering in their augmented vision dropping into the red.
“Almost there! Let’s finish it off.” Jake ordered, stepping up to add a burst of mana bolts, destroying the tower.
A shadow fell over the lane just as it was destroyed.
Jake looked up just in time to see a golden, winged meteor hurtling out of the sky. Ophelia crashed into the center of their formation with a deafening boom. A shockwave of weakened Vajrafire erupted outward, slamming into Jake and the girls around the tower, and destroying the last of the minion wave. The fire no doubt singed their bodies a bit but was moderated to a lightly painful scalding.
Ophelia laughed, rising from the crater with her polearm spinning in a flashy arc. “You pushed too far without vision! Clara, lock them down!”
From the treeline, Clara stepped out, and her golden owl wings flared as she cast a wide-area snare spell. A net of mana dropped over Rena and Nyxa, slowing them down as she began firing arrows at them.
And Ophelia launched herself at Jake, her halberd slashing at him with vigor but reduced from her usual strength. Still, Jake was barely able to keep up with her in spite of the lowered speed and strength, as he was in a similar position.
After a blast of Vajrafire washed over him again, stunning him, that was when the true trap was released. Aiko rushed out of the jungle from behind him, catching him in the perfect pincer. Darts of kitsune flames collided with his back, the outline of the armor taking the blow and reducing his health.
With a wave of Jake’s polearm, he sent out a pulse of Hestia’s flames. Ophelia dodged the attack with a heavy flap of her wings, taunting. “Ha! Too slow!”
“Was it?” The flames flew past her and erased the bindings on Rena and Nyxa. They rushed to Jake’s aid, deflecting Clara’s arrows as they cast spells of their own–a heal on Jake and a bolt of shadow at Ophelia, which didn’t miss and struck her in the side. They came swinging their maces, driving her and Aiko away.
Now they were the ones on the back foot, Jake managing to get off plenty of fiery bolts in counter. But then, Sharona exploded from the brush, the large, dragon-like echidna launching herself at Jake and breathing powerful flames. Aiko had hidden she was missing from her lane with an illusion, catching Jake off guard. Ira wasn’t acting as his bodyguard in this game, as it would destroy a lot of the fun of it.
Jake was taken back to their spawn area in a flash of light, and he chuckled as he watched through the viewer his daughters squaring off. Moxy arrived at the chaos next and managed to get off several of her blasts of noxious flames onto Ophelia, taking her out before she could escape and causing Ophelia’s team to scatter and flee.
The kids had a blast playing the game, and it was fun to see how engaged they got talking about it or how they could improve at playing it. The girls and boys got to show off and use a wide variety of strategies and spells, and Jake thoroughly enjoyed how each of his kids excelled in different ways or focused on different tactics.
And Jake loved how his kids were decent sportsmen. This was definitely something they learned early on thanks to Berri’s baseball: just the right amount of competitiveness to go along with a respect for their allies and opponents alike.
Nyxa grinned as she gave a high-five to Clara. “Good game, you guys! We’ll get you next time.”
Rena beamed as she picked up Aiko, lofting the large-dog-sized fox up in the air. “Aiko, you’re really amazing! I think you just might be the MVP.”
Aiko chirped and puffed out her chest with pride, her tails dancing behind her.
Nora shook her head with disbelief and a small smile. “Making clones of the laners so we don’t know they are missing is crazy. I’m going to have to work on beating those illusions!”
Blaze laughed as she hugged Sharona. “You did awesome, getting Dad like that! I can’t wait for next week’s rematch. Time to watch Match B.”
Now that their game was over, it was time for them to switch places and cheer on the other teams. A lot of fun was had by all, but Jake got an important notification mid-match. He froze in place as he began to peruse it, and his heart began hammering in his chest.
The girls all noticed he got quiet during the game, despite the usual rowdiness. And Sati asked him, “What happened, my Ishvara?”
“I got…a notification about the War Trial coming. We’ll need some time to think and talk about it. Let’s move somewhere a little more private and talk about it after the next match is done.”
The notification could wait. It looked like he had a few weeks to answer it, so he’d rather not ruin the kid’s day–they had been eagerly awaiting it for a while. He enjoyed watching the second set of teams, this time with Bloodberri versus Fhesiah and the announcers switching to Nessa and Ophelia.
The family got cleaned up after they finished their games, and Jake sat on the plush sectional, dressed in loose sweatpants and a simple t-shirt. His wives were scattered around the crackling Hearth, wearing comfortable pajamas and silk robes. The scent of roasted grokk beans and steeped herbs filled the air as each girl drank their preferred beverage.
Yona moved quietly around the coffee table, her twin tails swaying in a slow, contented rhythm. She set a steaming, dark mug of bitter Grok in front of Jake before handing delicate porcelain teacups to Tanda and Avalara.
“Thank you, Yona,” Jake murmured, wrapping his hands around the hot ceramic.
“Of course, Master,” Yona smiled warmly, taking a seat on the arm of his chair and resting a hand lightly on his shoulder. She didn't press for details, simply offering her quiet, grounding presence.
“This is the prompt I got while we were playing.” Jake projected the Sovereign Edict into the air above the coffee table. The family got quiet as they took it in and processed what it meant.
[Sovereign Edict: The War Trial Comes]
[As the Planetary Lord of numerous worlds and a Provisional Count of a Territory, the Framework recognizes your absolute authority to dictate the engagement parameters for your citizens and World Core for Highlands. Your choices for your Territory are as follows.]
- Abstain. (Deny joining War Trial).
- Risk Potential. (Trial)
- Risk Everything. (Permanent Death Trial)
[Note that only worlds that Risk Potential or Everything can participate, and any Guilds or Adventurers wishing to be involved must anchor themselves to a World or Proxy World that chose to Risk Everything.
Time Remaining before War Trial: 1 Year, 31 Days. You may select your option immediately. With 1 year remaining, the same poll will be given out to non-Territory worlds. You may use this time to prepare your citizens for the imminent poll.
This is the final War Trial to determine ownership of the Sector’s Core. In the third stage, participation will be widened for Core Sector involvement.]
A cold knot formed in Jake's stomach. As Provisional Count, a single mental command could lock millions of people into a meat grinder where the Framework wouldn't bring any of them back if they failed.
It felt completely contradictory to every choice he had ever made. Up until now, Jake had always managed risk. In Conflicts, he routinely sealed his Champion wives to avoid triggering disproportionate, apocalyptic responses from Tartarus. You didn't just throw everything you had at the board without a safety net.
But as he had scanned the frustratingly vague codices attached to the Edict, as well as historical information, a grim reality set in. While the Framework withheld specific battleground details of the upcoming contest, Jake had studied the historical data on previous sector-wide War Trials and the final maturation of other Frontier Sectors.
“The codices attached to this are frustratingly vague,” Jake broke the silence, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “But looking at the historical data for previous War Trials and the maturation of Frontier Sectors... a terrifying pattern emerges. If we Abstain or Risk Potential, we get sidelined.”
Blood’s golden eyes narrowed as she studied the glowing text. “Sidelined. Meaning our fates become entirely dependent on the strength and success of these proxy worlds.”
“Exactly,” Jake said grimly. “It operates like a massive, multi-stage tournament. The losing proxy worlds and those that risk potential get squeezed out like juice boxes, and the winners get the most juice. But that energy fuels something else entirely: the final battle for the Sector’s Core. Just what is it, anyway?”
Nessa frowned as she thought about how best to explain this, with her limitations. “It’s like a black hole at the center of a galaxy. That Core holds enough raw power to propel a being to godhood. Every Divine in the Alliance, especially Aspirants like Guan Yu, covets it to expand their influence and fuel their ascension. The Framework nourishes the treasure through these battles, and only the victor receives it.”
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“To the natives of this Frontier Sector, many feel that it's their birthright,” Jake added, his voice hardening. “It’s a diamond mine buried in our own backyard. Letting a foreign god or Tartarus swoop in and steal it is unacceptable to them.”
Ophelia chuckled. “I understand the mindset, but most of us represent those ‘thieves,’ being a Champion of these Divines. If they just might lose it to Tartarus, it’s certainly better that one of us gets it instead. We’re supposed to all be on the same team.”
“And there is yet another common consequence of the final War Trial,” Nessa continued quietly. “When the War Trial ends and that special treasure is claimed, Frontier Sector 87’s protective ‘walled garden’ will be erased entirely.”
Tanda gasped softly. “The walls come down? But Hestia said…”
Jake nodded. “Hestia offered to integrate my Territory securely under her protection. As a Count, our specific worlds would be safe. But everyone else? The remaining worlds that abstained or didn’t otherwise find a strong Noble’s protection will be completely exposed to the Core Sectors. In the next Tartarus Conflict, Alliance guilds with vastly superior experience and magical technology will swoop in to 'save' them.”
“Some will surely be like Alliance bandits, like Radiant Glory and so on.” Ophelia scoffed in disgust.
“Exactly,” Jake nodded. “They’ll be handed over to whatever tyrant stumbles upon them, completely unable to compete to keep ownership of their own worlds. They’ll be kicked while they’re down and potentially enslaved by foreigners like the Obsidian Blades outside of wartime. Native Planetary Lords might try to fight back in War Games, but against experienced Core Sector Guilds? Eventually, their worlds won't be theirs anymore.”
Blood swirled the grokk in her cup, her strategic mind locking the pieces into place. “Which makes it incredibly obvious what we must do. The worlds that choose to Risk Everything become the beachfronts. They are the main conflict zones, the center stage of the War Trial. If we anchor ourselves to a mere Proxy World, it means our success will depend on them.”
“By risking permanent loss, they are granted the maximum systemic authority to dictate the flow of the war,” Ophelia agreed, her competitive fire igniting. “They hold their fate in their own hands, reap the greatest rewards, and are the only ones positioned to influence the final stages–and claim their birthright.”
Jake leaned back against the couch, internalizing the sheer weight of his position. And of course, that was before even considering how the Alliance Nobles would direct things. Thankfully, his elevation to Provisional Count in the Second Tier meant he would be the top dog in their bracket.
If he were a mere Baron, a Third Tier Count could have easily dictated his battlefront from afar, despite not actually being a part of it. But now, he would likely be granted as close to total control as possible. It was no wonder the Accord Nobles had fought for him to have this power and why Hestia wished for him to stay in the Second Tier.
Ophelia sighed. “This is a tough decision.”
“It is a difficult choice,” Blood murmured, her golden eyes narrowing. “Permanent Death Trial means no safety nets for our people. But if we Abstain or only Risk Potential, we rely on the other Alliance proxy worlds to not hold us back and to win the Sector for us. It’s like the War Trial would force us to become spectators to our own fate.”
“Exactly,” Jake said quietly. “In a vacuum, if it were just us, I’d feel like I must pick Risk Everything. It’s the only way to guarantee we hold the front line, to become a shield for the people we’ve sworn to protect. But it’s not just us, and forcing this on them is actually the reverse of our oath we made to protect Highlands for all time. Normally, there’s a planetary poll, and even the average, uninitiated citizen gets to vote.”
Nessa scoffed softly, shaking her head. “A rule that tyrants and mercenary guilds easily circumvent.”
Jake nodded, his expression darkening. “Right. They don't build brick walls around the Nexus Nodes to block them. They just station heavily armed 'escorts' along the highways. They terrorize the local populace, ensuring only their loyalists or intimidated proxies ever reach the nodes. By curating their voters, they force whatever tactical outcome benefits the guild.”
Blood smiled proudly. “But we don't need to curate voters. As Provisional Count, your authority supersedes the poll. You could just press the button. They’ve already voted for you to have the right.”
“I could,” Jake murmured, even if he wasn’t fully on board with doing so. “But just what kind of people would willingly pick to Risk Everything?”
Jake imagined Earth. Throughout all of its history, there was never really a society that exceeded ten percent of its population as soldiers or warriors; even the Spartans had their slaves and castes that didn’t fight.
Then, it was usually much closer to one percent or less in modern times, unless one considered reserves. It would depend on the society and the timeframe, but in general, the most likely choice the average person would pick was Abstain. Risk Potential might just be nebulous enough that it could win if people felt like gambling or just confident or otherwise patriotic, perhaps, but Risk Everything? He had a hard time picturing an entire planet of civilians choosing the meat grinder.
Nessa noted, “Just as we learned from Valtor’s reports, the newly merged world of Aetheris and the Mystic Expanse may choose to Risk Everything organically. Cultivators are all about that, and so are most warrior societies. I know there’s a Spartoi-owned world in this Sector that follows Odin instead of a Grecian Divine. They just might select that option too.”
Ophelia was thoughtful about this. “That makes sense. I guess, also… the desperate kinds might select that choice, right? Worlds like Pelagos just might elect to risk it all, or the Elysians, remember? Assuming their world could have survived long enough to enter, and that they had enough fighters ready to gain them more. When you’ve had everything taken from you, you’ve got nothing left to lose but something to gain.”
Jake let out a breath, the weight of a world resting heavily on his shoulders.
“It's only been a little over five years since the war ended,” he said, his voice firm but laced with heavy empathy. “And that was after nearly a thousand years of suffering under the curse of the Death God. I know that many beastkin have the hearts of heroes. I know they would bleed for this world. But if we pick Risk Everything, we aren't just sending our Hearthtribe, our heroes who fight to protect family. We are putting the entire civilian population on the chopping block. I can’t force non-combatants to risk it all for a tactical advantage. And I certainly won’t force them into permanent death for the sake of protecting other worlds.”
Nessa noted, “Then maybe you should just ask them. You may not be required to use the poll, but you are still allowed to use it. Let them choose.”
“I’m definitely on board with them selecting what feels best to them,” Jake said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But realistically? Look at the math. The poll is split three ways. The refugees–the Emberborn, the Elysians, and the other newer arrivals such as the djinn and the mermaids, as well as the harpies–they make up nearly a quarter of our population now. They came here specifically to escape apocalypses on their own worlds through Mass Migrations. With them leaning heavily toward Abstain, getting a true majority to Risk Everything... it’s a statistical mountain. It's asking the impossible.”
Avalara stepped forward with a solemn grace. The ambient auril in the room swirled around her and suddenly grounded her, anchoring her perfectly to the floor. As a Sapient World Core, she looked at Jake not just as a wife, but as the literal embodiment of the planet itself.
“You understand the beastkin's courage, my mate, but you underestimate the bonds they have forged with those refugees,” Avalara said softly. “When the Emberborn, Elysians, and others arrived, our clans didn't just give them land and a community to join. They brought them into their hearths. They treated them as brethren, forming lasting connections and joining them into their clans. This world is a cultural melting pot held together by your stewardship and my people’s empathic nature.”
Avalara continued, “The beastkin have seen horrible and wonderful things both. They have faced threats and dangers of all kinds, and they have shared those burdens with their new neighbors. Highlands is their homeland, but they have started to treat this Sector as their larger community. The refugees aren't just guests anymore; they are part of the tribe. I do believe you’ll find that they will not break in the face of danger, not when their new family stands beside them.”
Tanda nodded. “Ever since the great Timothy, the hero! If you just ask them, I think you’ll be surprised by just how unified their answer will be.”
Jake hesitated. “I…you’re right. Still, I can't just send them the voting prompt with my message. A simple message doesn't carry the weight of this choice. They need to understand what this choice means. Truly.”
The family teleported out to the front of the house, the edge of their special quantum ‘footprint.’ They now stood out in front of their beautiful mansion, looking at a surprising form that cast a large shadow over their front door.
It was the world tree. It was outside the quantum footprint’s bubble, but they could still see it in the vast clearing in front of their house, with the many smaller trees formed from the various hamadryads and their paired treants growing.
And the world tree itself looked noticeably different. A portion of the bark looked crystalline in structure, darkened with a bruised-purple energy flowing through it. A portion of the branches and leaves had this same crystalline, gem-like structure, and it became obvious what he was looking at rather quickly.
Nethril was flowing through the tree.
“Ah, this was what you wanted to show me before. What you meant before about the balance, wasn’t it, Ava? Despite being a world tree, the pinnacle of life, it has taken on an aspect of death. For that reason, it’s not taking the world too far out of skew.”
Avalara nodded, a proud smile present in her lesser avatar’s features. “That’s right, my love. With the help of the Hamadryad who bonded with it, it took on the special affinity before taking the energy in. It has…slowed its rate of growth, but now it condenses and stores nethril in its crystalline veins, branches, and leaves. Truly beautiful in how it has found its own balance.”
Jake shouldn’t really be surprised that this happened, but it still moved him, his pride matching Avalara’s own.
Part of what helped him fall in love with the world was the strong mutualistic aspect ingrained in the very fabric of the world itself. On Earth, mutualism was present, but not nearly as prevalent as it was on Highlands. In other words, the flora and fauna matched the beastkin in their empathic nature, finding ways to work together to find success. Even in the brutality of nature, not everything had to be a zero-sum game.
Jake looked at the prompt again, a plan forming in his mind. “I can't just send the beastkin a text box. A prompt doesn't carry the weight of this choice. They need to understand it emotionally. Ava... you can connect me to them, right? Through the auril?”
“Of course, my love. I am the Cantor,” Avalara smiled warmly. “I can carry your voice or compose your song to every beating auril and nethril heart on this world.”
“That covers the native beastkin. But the refugees–the Emberborn, the Elysians, and the others we took in–they aren't tied to the song of the world. I'll have to send them the standard systemic poll.”
Jake’s expression hardened with resolve. “And I'll give them an out. I'll add a rider to the prompt. If they want to Abstain, Hearthtribe will fully fund their travel off-world, setting up their entire family if they wish. We have other sanctuaries in the Alliance. They don't have to fight a second apocalypse if they just want to live in peace.”
Tanda’s ears perked up, her tail giving a slow, solemn sway as she stepped to Jake’s side. “I believe this is the right path. And it’s just like you to do this.”
Blood sighed, smiling wryly. “I would prefer that Milord made use of his sovereign right… but you’re exactly right, Tanda. This is just like him.”
Sati offered a serene, knowing smile. “A soul forced to march will eventually stumble, my Ishvara, but a soul that chooses its own path will walk through the fire with resolve. This is the essence of their true Dharma. By offering them the heavy burden of choice, you do not just ask for their swords; you awaken their spiritual core.”
She folded her hands softly in her lap. “When they actively choose to risk their own destiny, the war ceases to be your command and becomes their sacred purpose. They will trust you implicitly, and they will love you for giving them the pen to write their own fate when you possessed every right to write it for them.”
Blood’s wry expression completely dissolved, replaced by a look of fierce, undeniable pride. The dark armor of her pragmatism melted away, leaving only the burning devotion of a queen. “A king who leads by the strength of his people’s hearts, rather than the yoke around their necks,” she murmured softly, her golden eyes locking onto his. “That is exactly why you are the Sovereign, Milord. And it is my privilege to stand as your sword when you call them to battle.”
Avalara smiled, stepping up to take his hand. The crushing gravity of the Edict seemed to roll right off her shoulders, her glowing eyes flashing with a sudden, playful glint. “Well then, Maestro,” she teased softly. “Are you ready to conduct?”
Jake let out a dry, breathy chuckle, the tension breaking just enough for him to breathe. “I still don't know why Taron and the rest of the undead started calling me that.”
“Because it fits you perfectly, my love. The undead sense it deep down in your spirit, and they understand that without the Maestro, all the strength they wield and the suffering they bore will all be for naught. ” Avalara hummed, her thumb tracing the back of his hand.
Jake closed his eyes, leaning into the State of the Harmonious Archon. As his consciousness expanded to include his lovely wife’s emotional state, he realized she was right. It was a bit of a dramatic title for him, but it was exactly how his leadership worked.
A true maestro didn't make the music themselves. They didn't force the notes or play the instruments. Their job was to manage the tempo, to guide the emotion, and to bring out the absolute best in the musicians so they could weave their individual sounds and strengths into a unified whole. Something far greater than the mere sum of all the parts.
Jake wasn't a tyrant barking orders, forcing his will on others. He was a conductor, asking his orchestra if they were ready to play the hardest piece of their lives.
The clearing vanished from his mind. His senses exploded outward even further through Avalara’s song, expanding across the vast, unimaginably complex network of the planet’s leylines. He didn't just see the world; he felt and heard it. The ambient hum of millions of auril hearts beating in the jungles, the bustling cities and tribal villages, and the deep caverns. Even the trees had their own hum, a steady pulse full of life and growth.
Avalara, the Cantor of the world, acted as his anchor, preventing him from being overwhelmed by the sheer amount of sensory input. That she could manage operating four avatars simultaneously–3 lesser and 1 battle avatar–was proof that her mind was simply on a different level from their own.
She reached deep into the bedrock of the planet and provided the opening notes.
It was a deep, resonant planetary heartbeat that rippled through the auril and nethril network. Across the globe, millions of Beastkin suddenly paused. The ambient noise of their lives faded as the song of the world gently asked for their attention.
And those who joined via the Mass Migrations could also feel something was shifting in the air. Avalara hadn’t yet mastered the strange texts, but her song now carried even across the mana in the world. Of course, she wouldn’t impose her will, but she would do her best to convey Jake’s desires and feelings.
The Elysians, Emberborn, Djinn, Banshees, and Harpies were now all a part of the world too. The Elysians, especially, were connected to nature significantly. They could hear the song through the breeze, from the living plants and nature throughout the world.
Through the Harmonious Archon, he guided the tempo, broadcasting his own Sovereign Edict directly into their hearts through raw, unfiltered emotion. And his Cantor, Avalara, transformed that emotion and the words he held in his heart into the very song.
She shared a warm, soothing rhythm, laced with empathy and sorrow for what they had endured. War comes to us. But you have bled enough. You have survived the dark. You deserve to rest. If you wish to hide, we will be your shield, just as we vowed. Hearthtribe will fight in your stead.
But then, Jake shifted his thoughts and emotions, carrying the terrifying reality of the multiverse and the historical weight of the War Trials, Avalara continuing to translate it into a song. A shield in the dark only delays the inevitable. The safe worlds are sidelined, destined to become or feed the spoils of war. To Risk Everything is to become the beachfront. It is the only way to hold the sword yourselves, to prepare for the many Conflicts to come.
He infused the final direction with a passionate proposition. If we choose this, it isn't just the soldiers fighting. By putting your own lives on the line, you stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Hearthtribe. We risk everything, together, to have the strength to rescue others who cannot rescue themselves.
All the beastkin heard this song, whether they were present on Highlands or not. For a long, agonizing minute, the world was silent. Jake braced himself. He expected a fractured response. A desire for safety, a fear of the unknown, mixed with calls for war and shouts for vengeance.
The response did not begin with the living.
Deep beneath the earth, a slow, grinding dirge began to rise. It was the Vigil. Taron and the ancient, undead guardians of the world heard their Maestro. The mammoth’s song of sorrow shifted, its icy, tragic notes hardening into a heavy, ancient hymn of eternal duty.
The Vigil sang of the responsibility to protect the balance of nature and the living against the wicked. Their frozen, nethril-infused resonance carried a profound, undeniable truth: to stand down now was to surrender the dawn, to fade quietly into the night, and to accept an eternity of unending, suffocating evil. They had died once to protect this world from the dark, and they would gladly rise to do it again in death.
Then, the beastkin erupted, having heard the plea of the unliving and their sovereign.
It wasn't the song of bloodlust or the song of vengeance that empowered them during battle. It was a staggering, overwhelming chorus of compassion and virtue. The civilian professionals, the hunters, the farmers, and the healers–they refused to let their warriors and soldiers fight this battle alone.
Just as they had done in the past, they would sharpen their claws to stand together against tyrants. They refused to go back into the dark, and more importantly, they refused to let anyone else suffer in the dark if they could help it. They understood their leader’s call to arms and the cost of not going all-in, and they would travel across the dangerous terrain to end the reign of a terrible tyrant.
Through his expanded senses, Jake felt the weight of the planet's music shift. The discordant noise that had always thrummed through the leylines–the clash of old grief, lingering rage, songs of seasons, life, balance, death, rebirth, and fearful isolation–snapped together like forged iron. Their cadence took on the song of the world, the song of Avalara.
It was an active, blazing harmony. The rivers, the deep roots of the nethril trees, the mutualistic beasts, and the integrated citizens were all singing the same sacred, unyielding vow. It was a hymn of bravery against a terrifying eldritch enemy.
The frantic pulse of the living and the cold, dutiful stillness of the dead ignited together into a singular flame of evolution through conflict. It was a violent, beautiful shift–marrying the raw, untamed power of nature with the empathy and virtues of a united society.
Jake and his family were all moved by the conviction and resolve they felt in their songs, just how unified their response to his plea was. This was a culmination of all the hard work they had done to protect the beastkin and help them rise. Clan Hart had shielded them from the dark and lit a flame in their hearts.
With a mental command, Jake officially authorized the poll.
Massive, golden letters ignited across the sky of the entire planet, directing the unintegrated natives to the Nexus Nodes. Simultaneously, a systemic poll pinged the Menus of those joined to the Framework, bearing Jake's personal guarantee: anyone who wished to Abstain would be fully funded and relocated to a safe world before the Trial began. They were safe either way, and they were welcome to vote and make their voice heard or submit their migration request.
Using his expanded senses, Jake watched the leylines around the Nexus Nodes. He remembered that mercenary guilds used armed thugs to block the nodes and curate the voters.
The Highlands beastkin did the exact opposite.
The beastkin marched to the Nexus Nodes, and they didn't go alone. They were actively escorting the Elysians, the Emberborn, the Djinn, Harpies, and more. They cleared the paths, cheering for their new brethren, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a massive, planetary display of unity as they all cast their votes together.
Seeing the devotion and confidence of their hosts and knowing Jake had freely offered them a way out, the refugees made their choice. The vast majority didn't select to Abstain, or even need to rely on the evacuation clause. They cast their votes at the nodes, trusting in their brethren and Lord that they were making the right choice to risk it all.
The planetary tally updated in Jake's vision, the numbers spinning wildly in time with the music, eventually reaching consensus a lot faster than Jake had imagined it would. It still took a few hours, but people were quick to come from all over, rushing to the nearest node in order to vote. The Framework knew just how many souls were on this world and how many were of age and able to.
Avalara smiled, her glowing eyes fixed on Jake. “They don't want to hide behind Hearthtribe’s shield, Maestro,” she whispered, the emotions she held taking on the echoing resonance of the world itself. “They want to march beside it.”
A prompt appeared before Avalara. As the World Core, the threshold had arrived where she could make the final decision. It was still her own body that would be at risk, after all. She didn't hesitate and made her vote, accepting to risk her own destiny.
[Planetary Consensus Reached: Risk Everything (Permanent Death Trial).]
The entire planet seemed to ring like a struck bell, the collective auril of millions of souls cementing their resolve into the very bedrock of the world. Something within Avalara fundamentally changed in this moment, the fiery hearth in her primary avatar blazing brightly.
The beastkin had selected their path, and it was in sync with the one that Avalara had chosen long ago–the day they triumphed over the Death God together.
She looked out over the horizon, feeling the endless, thrumming music of her people wrapping around her soul. “For a thousand years, this world was a fractured choir. A melody of the seasons drowned out by funeral dirges, desperate songs of blood, and the preservation of the balance. But they are no longer scattered and broken. Do you hear it, my love?”
Jake listened to the echoing chorus in his mind and nodded slowly. “The pulse of the living and the vigil of the dead. They finally caught the same fire, singing the same song together. It's not a cry for help, nor is it a song of bloodshed and vengeance.”
“No,” Avalara agreed, her eyes shining as she reached out to finalize the world's systemic identity. “It is a hymn of valor.”
[World Core Confirmation Accepted. Provisional Count Hart’s Territory now qualifies as a Proxy World for War Trial participation.]
[Notice: The Sapient World Core, Avalara Hart, has requested a formal planetary rename to: The Hymn of Valor. As the Planetary Sovereign, do you accept this designation?]
Jake looked at the prompt, then back at Avalara. He felt the endless, thrumming music of their people wrapping around his soul. It was perfect. It wasn't just a title; it was a promise etched into the very leylines of the planet. A song of evolution through war and conflict against the wicked, grounded in virtue and duty.
I accept, Jake thought, firmly cementing the command.
[Name Change Approved. From this day forth, the world itself shall be known as The Hymn of Valor.]
[Prepare yourselves. The War Trial First Stage begins in 1 Year, 31 Days.]
Jake opened his eyes, the State of the Harmonious Archon slowly fading, leaving behind a heavy silence in the clearing. He looked around the room at his wives. He saw the competitive fire in Ophelia's eyes and the fierce pride in Bree's. Now having a greater connection to the planet's song, Bree could feel just how special the beastkin were–the unbreakable community she was now fully a part of.
Even as his connection to the leylines receded, Jake could still feel the lingering echoes vibrating through the earth beneath his feet through the quantum footprint. It wasn't fear. It was a massive, building crescendo of anticipation, a song heard around the entire world, from the smallest insects and plants to the people who lived there and the largest auril beast.
Across the globe, millions of souls were already moving. He could feel the spiritual heat of hundreds of forges igniting, the heavy clatter of armor being strapped on, and the rhythmic, terrifying sound of countless claws and weapons being sharpened against the stone. Warriors padding out to their dueling circles, ready to train or prepare to grow or join clans, unified in purpose.
The beastkin were going to war. And for the first time in their history, they weren't fighting just to survive.
They were fighting to be heroes.
END OF BOOK 9