'Impossible.' Belgroth whispered, as if afraid that speaking louder would make it more real, 'My people ensured that such a thing couldn't be done. So many lives spent to ensure it couldn't. This must be some sort of illusion. A trick.'

'It is no trick cousin.'

Standing before Alaster, standing tall in Death Knight Armor, was an Argalon, and it had heard Belgroth speak in Alaster's head.

The Argalon Death Knight's armor was clearly the same design as the others, but it was just as unique as he was. Runes covered every inch, each one glowing with the sinister green of Necrotic Mana. The shield on it's back as just as massive as it was and had just as many Runes. The large sword at its hip was sheathed, but radiated with Mana through the sheath.

Its Runic helmet was tucked under its arm, revealing yet another distinction. While the other Death Knights were Skeletal, the Argalon had pale flesh and short obsidian hair.

Everything about the Argalon that stood before Alaster told of power, both Magical and Physical, yet it was not wild. Even more than power, the Argalon radiated control and wisdom.

If this Argalon Death Knight decided to attack, Alaster was not sure he could stop him from destroying the city.

"How can you hear him?" Alaster asked, his grip tightening on his halberd.

Alaster felt the Argalon's gaze land on him. It felt almost physical the way he felt as if the world itself was pressing him to the ground.

When it spoke, its voice was steady and calm, with a core of ancient wisdom and fury.

"I was ancient before the first purge began. I had already perfected the art of the Death Knights before the first Human Argalon War. There is nothing a soul can hide from me, least of all a parasite attached to it."

"Parasite?"

"How else would you describe it? It is attached to you. It is incapable of surviving without you."

"It is my friend and mentor."

"Call it what you will."

"What did you mean by perfecting the art. Does that mean you are the strongest?"

"It means I created the Death Knights. I was the very first Death Knight. All others originate or can trace their lineage to me."

"Why are you here then? Are you upset that some of your disciples have sworn themselves to me?"

The Argalon glanced around the room as he spoke, "The Death Knights are free to do what they wish. I have never sought to control them. I am here for another matter."

"What matter?"

"The Underworld has been explained to you, has it not?"

"Briefly. I will not lie and say I know everything about it."

"Then you know the Deep has entrances dotted throughout the surface."

"Yes, as I know the two worlds very rarely interact with each other."

"The Coalition has invaded the Underworld."

Alaster's eyes widened, "What? I thought they would conquer the Surface before they attempted to attack the Underworld."

"The Coalition has millions upon millions of soldiers, why would they care to proceed slowly? As it were, perchance, if they put down their warlike ways and returned to their culture as it were before the wars, their population would be so vast, they could not sustain it."

"So what, they are attacking both the Surface and Underworld in unison as a way to curb their own population?"

"A foolish conclusion," The Argalon sighed, "Why would a people, already fighting on two fronts, initiate a third?"

Not wishing to agitate the Argalon capable of single handedly destroying the city, Alaster thought for a moment before responding, "Any competent commander would never willingly do such a thing. So I am forced to assume it's because they have no choice."

The Argalon's head ever so subtly nodded.

"Fighting a war on three fronts is foolish to do willingly, so its logical to believe its forced upon them, but the cause if the requirement could be many. What is their's?" Alaster asked.

"When your ancestors evicted the Coalition's, where do you think they went?"

"To another world?"

"A logical deduction, but an incorrect one. The Universe is vast, so vast that people have spent millennia studying it, and still don't understand even a tenth of a single percent of the totality that is the Universe. Yet the vast majority of that space is just that, empty.

Your species took countless generations before finally crashing in this world, and not by choice, but by necessity. Your vessel was breaking apart. So you chose the only option available. The first option that came along during the journey spanning thousands upon thousands of lifetimes."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"What is your point?"

"My point is that when they were cast out, there was nowhere to go. Left with no home, in an environment that was slowly killing them despite their Magic, they did what they had to.

Using Magic they had previously deemed forbidden, they cast asteroids together and formed them into a new world. Damned hypocrites.

This new world was much smaller than their homeworld, but it had space for their people and space to grow food and live.

But that time was long ago and long since gone.

The Magics they used to create their new world were not designed to create, least of all so quickly. As the centuries passed, their new home began to break apart.

They did their best to halt the deterioration, but only served to slow its progression. Refusing to move yet again, the Coalition decided to fight yet again to retake their home world.

They transformed their dying world into being solely for war. Their factories output nothing more than weapons and armor. Their people began intentionally repopulating until finally, their entire world was covered from one end to another in barracks that touched the sky, training grounds buried deep in the earth, farms that stretched to the horizon and had several levels, and factories that expelled so much smoke it choked the air.

Their crafted world was dying the moment the created it, but they were left with no other choice.

In doing so, they attracted the attention of something they should not have.

The universe is vast, as previously stated, but it is far from empty. Yet despite being full of life, it is silent."

"What is this foe?"

"The Coalition calls them the Xylac. A race of insects capable of surviving in the vacuum of space and consuming anything organic to expand and grow stronger. Even if the organic matter still breaths.

They travel the universe in small scouting parties, but a single scouting party still numbers in the hundreds of thousands. Once they locate a viable target, the party swarms it, consuming everything and leaving it a barren rock.

By creating their own unstable world, they attracted the attention of one such scouting party.

You said earlier how the Coalition was foolish to fight a war on three fronts, but they are fighting on four because they have no choice.

The coalition is losing their crafted world. Each day, the Xylacs creep a foot closer. The creatures have no yet managed to step foot on the their planet, but the coaltion knows they cannot stop them.

That is why they are fighting so desperately. They must secure their foothold on this planet before they lose the one they already have."

"Fighting the Gods, fighting the Humans, fighting the Xylacs, and now fighting the Underworld," Alaster scoffed, "Do the Xylacs know of this world?"

"The coalition does not believe so."

"How do you know so much of what the Coalition knows?"

"The memories of the recently dead are no secret to me."

"That is all fine, I guess, but how exactly does this change my situation."

"You have been waiting on the Vampiric Houses to pledge themselves to you. They will not. Not with the Coalition invading their lands. With the Deep Invasion, the Coalition on all fronts will begin to act more aggressively."

"More? They are already invading the entire Human race."

"They have already captured a sizable amount of land. It is still far from what they require, but with each death, the required amount shrinks.

They have already decided. They are returning to their home world. They will either do so as conquerer's, or as refugees."

"I know which I would prefer." Alaster mumbled.

"As do they, and they will fight to ensure their best result."

"So then why are you here? Shouldn't you be in the Deep slaughtering the Coaltion soldiers? I have a hard time believing you are here to swear yourself to me."

"You are correct. I will not bind myself to you, but that does not mean we cannot be aligned.

In the Deep, there are many tight passageways. Areas where numbers mean little and power means victory. But the opposite is often true on the surface. I have ten thousand Death Knights. You already have a few hundred. As they share a connection to you, they share their existences with me.

Through a ritual, I can summon all ten thousand to this location. I will previously have bonded them to you, allowing you to use them as you desire. Use them as fodder for all I care."

"You do not care for your own disciples?"

The Runes on the Argalon flashed for a moment, unveiling a power that destroyed Alaster's illusion of being able to fight back.

"I have no disciples. Not anymore. These skeletons are nothing more than passive Mana generators. They will have more value on the surface than they will in the Underworld. That is all."

"So you will stay here to complete this ritual?" Alaster was already not loathing the conversation with Keylan about how a being capable of destroying his entire city with a sneeze, was now drawing Magic circles in one of his warehouses.

"No. I will have the skeletons draw the circles. They will serve as pylons for my Mana to flow into the Mana Circles. I will return to the frontlines in the Underworld immediately after I bind them to you."

"This is going to hurt, isnt it?"

"Ten thousand Undead Souls all searing a connection to yours, tugging it down? It would be foolish to think otherwise."

"Alright, I'm ready."

Alaster barely finished his sentence before the Araglon lunged forward, driving its Necrotic flaming finger through Alaster's Pact Armor and through his chest. Alaster gasped breathlessly as fiery pain consumed his world. Darkness welcomed him.

Alaster opened his eyes to find himself kneeling down on one knee, holding himself up with one fist on the ground while the other grasped his chest, where the Pact Ar or was already repairing the small hole.

That alone indicated that he had only been unconscious for a few moments.

The pain was already fading, yet not the weight. The Argalon Death Knight had done what it said it would. All ten thousand were now bound to him, each one a force to be reckoned with and capable of summoning a few soldiers of their own.

Alaster looked up, but saw the Argalon missing and the Death Knights still kneeling, except their werent kneeling to the Araglon, they were kneeling to him.

In less than an hour, the number of Death Knights in the city had practically doubled.

'You knew who that was.'

It was not a question to the Argalon in his soul.

'Vulimax the Knight. When my people cared for this world, we paid close attention to the Deep. We suffered not the existence of the Native Undead. To us, they were a blight on the natural order of things. Through our continued efforts, the Deep was perpetually empty of the Undead. We always either blessed or burned our own dead, so the source of Native Undead was already very small, but not impossible.

And some, like Vulimax, were curious about them. This was not encouraged, but was also not shunned. In hindsight, it should have been.

Unknown to the rest of the Tribes the Tribe that Vulimax called home studied the Undead, experimenting in creating their own. And eventually, turning themselves into Undead.

When we found out, it was already too late for redemption. We attacked them, systematically destroying each one, and all their research. We had believed all were destroyed, both Undead and Research.

Evidently, we were wrong.'

'So he has been in the Deep for millennia, studying and practising.'

'In terms of raw power, is suspect he is slightly stronger than you. In terms of practiced skill, you would lose.'

Alaster turned his attention to one of the nearby kneeling Death Knights, "How long will it take to draw the Ritual?"

"Two hours, but three days before it is cast."

"Take as many Knights as you need. Get it done. The rest of you, stay hidden, and train. I want you all ready for when your brothers arrive."

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