These chapters are more of the same sequence, so no particular notes on that. Instead, I'll talk a little about my upcoming schedule overall.
This book will be completed in May and released in June to coincide with my publicity push. Depthless Hunger 3 is scheduled for June 22 by Audible. As DH has been essentially done on my end for months, I have been working on a new serialization project, tentatively titled Throne of Time. You will hear more about it later.
Currently my plan is to shut down the Cognosticon account and run the new serialization here. In order to make sure everyone only gets what they're interested in, the tiers will shift to something like this:
TWC chapters
Throne of Time chapters
TWC + Throne chapters
There will be more about this later, but any actual changes will take place after TWC11 is complete here, because shifting the system mid-book feels wrong to me. Patreon also seems to have a pretty good policy about current patrons getting grandfathered in to any changes, so there shouldn't be too much disruption.
-
Chapter 46
It was easy to claim that holding back was the best strategic decision, but Theo found himself struggling with the conclusion more than he expected. He wasn't a general deciding which nameless soldiers would die, his own friends and allies were paying the price. Even if their soulcrafting was building the strength that could potentially turn the tide, his decision could cost other lives.
His binary singularities were stable, the voidiamond was doing excellently within the etherealprism... what right did he have to delay any longer?
One thing that kept him on Noven was that he thought it would overwhelmingly be the best decision to return in force with all three of them. Nauda could improve herself significantly with just a little more work, and Fiyu was testing her newest technique variation, so he had a little leeway. But as soon as they finished, that started a countdown where he was culpable for any delays.
But until then, what did he do? After considering rushing to Dominion, Theo decided that it would be a fatal mistake, most unavoidably given the work needed for his Immortality Conduit. Just ascending wasn't enough, as Plutalgion and the Demonweaver had made clear. If he didn't build to the point where he could fight aeon-class threats, he would ultimately lose, no matter how much power he grasped in the short term.
When he thought about it that way... there was something else that was really a better decision. Theo turned over the ethics of it in his mind, then went to see Isorales.
The Noveni man was back on his balcony, soulcrafting in the concentrated sunlight. At some point Theo would need to investigate more about the Noveni technique of soulcrafting in specific places, but whatever marginal improvement it offered wasn't what they needed now. Isorales himself was the goal, as he had been more withdrawn than Theo had expected since they arrived. Or perhaps they just weren't as responsive as they believed, amid all their soulcrafting.
"Sorry we haven't been spending much time with you," Theo said as he walked to the edge of the balcony. "I'm sure you're sick of hearing us talk about the war."
"How long are you planning to stay?" Isorales asked.
"Not long now. A few days at most."
"Oh... gotta admit, I'll miss having you here."
"And I'm sorry about that too. I promise we'll come back sooner next time, if we make it through this."
"I told you, it's fine."
"You know," Theo said, "it's strange that you're still at Authority. Do you want us to help you get to Stronghold?"
"Are you sure I could?" Isorales frowned from within his soulcrafting haze. "I have my floor set up, but compared to the princes of the city... I don't think I could equal my grandfather, not even close."
"Trust us, you can probably do it. And if you're lacking materials, we have plenty of extras that might work out for you."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Isorales asked bluntly.
Theo paused, turning just enough to observe the Noveni man from the corner of his eyes. Isorales appeared peaceful, simply soulcrafting without concern. Yet he wasn't a stupid man, even if his upbringing might not have been the best for him. And despite his occasional pretensions, Theo wasn't as subtle as he wanted to be, so he was probably too obvious.
"I'm going to be completely honest with you," Theo said, and to his surprise he actually meant it. "We'd like you to come with us, because we need all the help we can get. But no, the offer isn't conditional. We'll help you ascend even if you want to stay here. We owe you that much."
With everything out on the table, Theo leaned against the railing and stared out over Ugustial. He knew how he'd feel in Isorales's place, and had to admit that his group came off as self-interested. Sure, they'd helped him years ago, but now they were coming back and demanding that he get involved in a war that had nothing to do with him, purely because it benefited them.
"Uh... I wasn't thinking that at all." Isorales coughed awkwardly. "I was thinking that it might be nice to get away from my parents and do something for myself, for once."
Blinking, Theo turned back, just in case there was another layer of trickery, but Isorales was giving him an earnest smile. Apparently Theo had been so many steps ahead that he was actually behind, and he could only hope that it still worked out for him.
"You seem to think you're really selfish," Isorales continued, "but I don't see it that way. You're an outsider, right? There's no reason you have to care about the Nine Worlds, but now you're fighting a war for people who have no possible relation to you. No one in Ugustial would ever do that."
"It isn't altruism," Theo said with a shrug. "There are obvious advantages."
"No doubt." Isorales got up and stood by the railing beside him. "I'd like to try, but do you really think I have a chance? At ascending, for one, and then against a serious enemy like this empire you're talking about?"
"Oh, definitely. All three of us can offer advice, and when it comes to Tymetron... do you still use those rings?"
"Yes, I've been developing the technique."
"Well, we need to introduce you to a sublime material called deadgold..."
~
Reports suggested that Tymetron remained calm, slowly increasing the pressure across the continent, and that worried Homez. Because, while the empire clearly had the upper hand, it wasn't a foregone conclusion that it would win this conflict. The local Dominions were holding strong and the attack on the tournament hadn't resulted in mass casualties, so they could still turn things around, especially if Theo and his allies returned.
Yet perhaps Homez was taking things too lightly, because it was far from a foregone conclusion that the tournament grounds would survive either. There might not be many civilians left, but there were still a lot of contestants and more demons than ever. This balance couldn't be maintained...
And then it broke: Raythe took the entire Darkblade Sect and left, flying south without explanation.
Homez had no idea why, other than guessing that it might have to do with the information the outsider was torturing out of the Tymetronese soulcrafters he captured. What mattered was that the only Dominion in the region had just left, and he'd taken their only Strongholds with him. All factions had taken for granted that Raythe would serve as a deterrent, and now he was gone.
For an hour, there was silence across the tournament grounds. And then the Tymetronese soulcrafters revealed that they still had a Stronghold.
Compared to all of the enemies they had faced, this obstacle wasn't so insurmountable, yet Homez felt a chill grip him. This one wore a robe like the other soulcrafters who used the abilities of the Demonweaver, and beyond that, his combat instincts told him that this was a veteran killer. Even with the advantage in numbers, they might not be able to manage this one.
That didn't stop him from flying out to try to stop the enemy. He saw that Nanjuma had joined him and they flew together, but they couldn't arrive in time to stop the enemy from reaching one of the titans. The demon tried to grab and crush him, yet the Tymetronese soulcrafter somehow merged into its chest, then the titan shifted toward them.
Nanjuma hit first, water combining with a physical blow, but it barely knocked the titan back half a step. Homez followed up, landing a blow onto the chest directly where the soulcrafter had disappeared. His stone spike punched in, but the titan was much too large, and a second later one of the enormous hands slammed into him.
Groaning, Homez managed to crawl out of the crater where he'd landed. He'd taken blows from Strongholds before, and this was worse. Nanjuma was nearly struck as well and had to retreat without support, so there was nothing stopping the Stronghold titan from attacking.
It appeared to be moving directly toward the arena, likely intending to take down the barrier that prevented the demons from swarming inside. Homez didn't think they could win like this, not without leverage. Abruptly he realized their chance: the anti-aeon armaments.
They hadn't been enough to stop an aeon-class soulcrafter, clearly, but their enemy now was two tiers lower. Homez dove directly into the rubble of one of the towers, hurling aside fragments as he sought out the armament. The central metal shaft was undamaged, but the framework that held it in place had splintered. That didn't matter, he could position it with his own strength. Unfortunately, the shaft was designed to launch an explosive sublime material, and nothing was available.
At the edges of his awareness, the titan had shifted. Homez realized that it was coming toward him now, aiming to crush him on the way to the arena. If it got through him, there would be no one else to stop it.
Could he form a sphere of stone and use that as a projectile? Homez made a first effort and was relieved that the firing mechanism still worked. But when he tried to launch his sphere, the impact was so forceful that it exploded the stone into pieces.
Instead of a single focused impact, the result was a shower of rubble. Some of it actually bounced off Nanjuma, who winced in pain. Krikree had joined the fight wearing a large shapeless robe, slashing at the titan's legs, and she managed to skitter around the fragments. What remained that impacted the giant basically just bounced off, doing no damage to the armored skin.
No choice but to try again. Homez stopped using the room in his soulhome that naturally built the stone of his armor and instead began soulcrafting stone from his sublime materials. It was hard to push more cantae into the rock itself, but if he hollowed it out, he could create a solid core... it was taking more time than he'd hoped, and the titan was getting closer...
Nanjuma was flung across the ground not far away, holding a broken arm. A sundered spear flew past the next second, and Homez gaped as Krikree went berserk. She pulled weapon after weapon from her robe in a ferocious assault, even managing to get a pickaxe deep into the titan's eye. But her weapons were breaking, one after another, and she was only slowing it down.
"How many weapons do you have, little bug?" The voice didn't come from the titan's mouth, instead emanating from the chest where the soulcrafter hid. "Fighting for these weaklings is useless. Come over to Tymetron and we can give you far more."
"Not!" Krikree screamed, brandishing several spears.
"It looks like you're out of unique weapons." The titan was almost on top of them now, and Homez didn't think that the armament was ready. He just needed a little more time, but there was nowhere else to retreat to. "Do you think those little spears can harm me?"
"Krikree have other weapons!"
"Oh?" The soulcrafter seemed amused as it pushed the titan to lunge the final steps. "What's that?"
"Senka-food, go!"
The next weapon Krikree pulled from her robe looked like a doll for a second before Homez recognized Senka. She raised her hands and abruptly unleashed a beam of blinding cantae that made the ground shudder. Both Senka and Krikree went flipping over backward and Homez had to brace himself from the shockwave.
When he could see again, the titan stood with an enormous hole blown through its chest. The soulcrafter had been obliterated, and the remaining demonic matter tumbled backward like a felled tree before it began to dissolve.
"Can't... do that again..." Senka briefly made eye contact with Homez, and she looked absolutely horrible. He had no idea what to make of her attack, but he trusted that she was right. They were running out of resources.
While Krikree began waving Senka's limp body around in a sort of celebratory dance, Nanjuma flew to stand beside Homez, cradling his arm. For a time they just looked at one another, both understanding the truth without needing to say it. They had a lot of talented Authorities still on the tournament grounds, but this battle had just proved why they shouldn't fight top-tier Strongholds.
"With the sect gone," Nanjuma said slowly, "there's nothing to shield us. Are there reinforcements coming?"
"There's nowhere to send them from," Homez answered.
"Then we can only hold out for Nauda and the others. Can we do it?"
"I don't know." Homez hefted the broken armament again and then lifted his now-completed projectile alongside it. "Let's get that arm seen to, because we have a lot of work to do."
-
Chapter 47
As the enemy Dominion used her weirkey to retreat, Guchiro allowed himself to breathe again. The battle had been too close for comfort, with fatigue and a drained soulhome limiting his efficacy. At this point, continuing to face off against fresh Tymetronese soulcrafters was becoming a critical, even foolish, risk.
Given that Ward Fiyu was no longer among the threatened, it could be considered senseless to continue fighting, and as Guchiro floated down to the Asplundat base to rest, he reconsidered. Of course, he knew that Ward Fiyu would not be convinced to leave these people, so upon her return she would be at great risk again. Beyond that, however, he found himself surprisingly sympathetic with his new associates: Crintak, Melitta, and even Citizen Dominion had done remarkably well, for having been mired in the trap of leadership.
Yet by continuing to fight, Guchiro was jeopardizing the plan he had developed for decades. The war had allowed him to acquire enough Dominion-tier materials to finish the last gaps in his blueprint, but the next tier required a step back. The middle of a war would be the worst possible time to take on the next phase, weakening himself until he could leap to the same tier as the enemy.
And so he continued in the same pattern as all the Norronese Dominions, letting the enemy slowly grind him down. Guchiro could hold up under it significantly better than most, and with his Corporeal Floor he could go without food or sleep for a very long period of time. So long as he provided a shield, these soulcrafters that Ward Fiyu cared so much about would continue to fight.
The overall war wasn't as much in Tymetron's favor as they had hoped, that was at least a small positive. They had expected to be able to outnumber their target's Strongholds and then overwhelm a few middling Dominions. As the war stretched on, more and more of the empire's enemies began to draw knives.
Would any of it be enough? The question, in his mind, was whether the enemy would ever decide to deploy a significant resource against them again. If Plutalgion attacked, even Guchiro would have no choice but to retreat, and there was no guarantee their scattered allies would help enough to matter.
Just as he was about to rest, Guchiro felt the ripple of a weirkey overhead. He groaned as he felt another Tymetronese Dominion... and then chaotic bolts of light rained down on the world.
~
Several days passed without any new reinforcements from Tymetron, so Homez had time to gather more of the broken armaments and talk to the assembled Authorities. Some were willing to help with repairing and reloading the armaments, with Bluepetal and his group being particularly helpful. But most understood that if Tymetron decided to send a Dominion against them, it was over.
Homez couldn't argue with the core of that logic and urged everyone to prepare anyway. He hadn't heard any news from the Movement recently and assumed that was negative, if it didn't mean a worst case scenario, so they might be on their own. Authorities with weirkeys could simply leave if they wanted, but everyone else was stuck in the middle of an intensifying war.
They had put together three functioning armaments when they felt the end arrive: a group of Tymetronese soulcrafters arrived on the battlefield. In strength, not in stealth. A Dominion and at least two Strongholds, descending in the center of the tournament grounds. Apprentices of the Demonweaver began to emerge and join them, more than Homez would have guessed still remained, and the result was an army.
Did they stand any chance at all? Homez glanced around the arena and wondered how long it would take the brave souls who remained to break.
Their armaments could be some threat to a Dominion, the problem was that their speed couldn't equal their impact. Bluepetal had guided some Slescans to tunnel to a secret location with one armament, so they might be able to ambush the group once it started attacking. The others were held in the arena and the Blacksilver compound, more as talismans against fear than effective defenses. Currently he had Nanjuma with him, still nursing injuries, while Krikree and her Arbaian ally were back at Blacksilver.
It looked bad, but Homez decided that there was no one else to stand up. He began working on another stone sphere, as if a single piece of ammunition would make a difference now. That was all he could do as the Tymetronese army began to move.
Instead of the hit and run attacks they'd been attempting up to this moment, they moved together, gathering up their cantae and launching an enormous volley. Homez held his projectile loosely, impotent against an assault like that. The barrier might survive one, but enduring a second would be a miracle, and before the third, total panic would set in.
Except the first volley never reached the arena. For no apparent reason, it curved away in midair, the cantae bolts slamming into the ground instead.
Even that wasn't quite accurate: Homez realized that bolts that should have struck the barrier were disappearing into portals, being redirected back into the Tymetronese army. For a moment they continued firing, not understanding that they were being battered by their own projectiles.
Then Fiyu appeared like a wraith, her blade piercing through one of the enemy Strongholds. Some of those watching in the arena began to cheer as they understood, but Homez could only watch.
The Dominion realized that Theo was the threat and flew upward, drawing a golden scythe from his soulhome. Before he could arrive, Nauda intercepted him, grasping the scythe with her gauntlet. As the two of them struggled, Stronghold and Dominion, it wasn't clear which of them was stronger.
Just in case they needed help, Homez flew to the arena roof and set up his armament. On the way, he realized that there was one person he hadn't expected: a Stronghold in shining white and gold. The man must be Noveni, judging from his wings, and he unleashed beams of cantae that hammered the Tymetronese army.
When Theo's singularity tore open in the center of the battlefield, the Tymetronese spirit broke entirely. The Demonweaver's subordinates retreated together and disappeared into a weirkey, but the rest of the army was panicking. That should have meant their victory, except that the surviving Stronghold was flying directly toward the arena, fire in her eyes. Whatever technique she was building could well be lethal, and she seemed to have gotten past the others.
Homez fired the armament and his jury-rigged projectile shot out with more force than he could ever have generated. But the enemy Stronghold managed to spin around it with an agile flip, and now she was hurling a great ball of flame toward the arena.
Building a second layer of armor around himself, Homez met the projectile in midair. The explosion was like nothing he'd ever experienced before, instantly shattering his armor, and without that defense it might have torn apart his body. He was left tumbling helplessly through the air, too stunned to gather himself or even fly.
"Got you." Homez stared as he realized that the Noveni man had caught him, still trying to catch up with the rapid movements. With his mind still addled by the impact, all Homez could think was that this man was the most shockingly handsome one he'd ever seen, with that strong jaw and gorgeous locks...
When Homez was set down atop the arena, he had begun to return to himself, and it seemed that the battle was over. The Tymetronese Dominion had retreated instead of fighting to the death, but Tymetron had lost another Stronghold, and most importantly their attempt to wipe out the tournament participants had been foiled.
"Everyone alright?" Nauda landed beside them and helped support Homez with one arm. "Thanks for stopping that attack, Theo and I were tied up trying to take down the Dominion."
"Most of us are alive," Homez answered faintly, "but we're lucky you came when you did."
"No, not exactly. After we hit Tymetron, they realized we were back and tried to take you out before we could reinforce the tournament grounds. Luckily we were anticipating that."
"Oh... well, I think we held out well enough. We're battered, but most of the tournament contestants survived. But not all, I wish I could have done more..."
"You did enough, Homez. You held the line." Nauda briefly pulled him into a hug, then drew back and her attention turned to the Noveni man. "Excellent work with those beams, Isorales. Between you and Fiyu, I think we could suppress an entire army."
So his name was Isorales... lovely name. As Homez took a second look at the Noveni man, who was awkwardly accepting Nauda's thanks, Homez suspected that he didn't have a chance with him. Maybe he should find the time to travel to Noven, though...
Homez shook his head sharply and refocused. There were lots of people who needed help, and now that the crisis had passed, a lot of secondary issues would bubble up. Some contestants had serious injuries, others were running low on food, and old rivalries suppressed by the enemy might flare up. Theo and his allies could handle the combat side, but they would need others to serve as support.
Theo himself hovered down the next second, looking calm and in control despite the fact that he had Krikree jumping on his back chirping "Theo-sister! Theo-sister!" He traded a brief exchange with Isorales and Nauda, then turned to Homez.
"I'm sorry it took this long," Theo said, "but we're back. Anything we're missing?"
"We didn't find all the demonic artifacts," Homez answered, "but I think you broke their forces. It's over."
"Not necessarily. Where's Raythe?"
"Uh... he and his sect went further south, allegedly chasing the Demonweaver. I expected them to come back, but we haven't heard from them."
Immediately Theo frowned and pivoted south, and power trembled through the air in a way that made Homez's inner ears flip. After several seconds, Theo sighed and looked back. "No, I'm afraid it's not over."