– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 219, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 56 –

"This…" The sun elf mage looked conflicted.

"Come on, Layla, you know our orders," replied her direct supervisor.

"I do, but I have trouble believing them. " She shook her head. "We fought so hard to push the funghouls away and keep the Deadlands in check! To keep them away from us and contain the funghouls! Now we're inviting them in and spreading them around?!"

Her fellow soldier shrugged. "You know they never explain their orders."

"Well, if they want us to connect gates to the Deadlands, I'd like a damned explanation," hissed the mage.

The other soldier took a deep breath. He knew she would react like this. It was hardly a surprise. Layla had always idolized her brother. Her brother had been killed by the funghouls out of nowhere. Her brother, who had been beloved by so many. Not just a family man but a man of ideals, who had held high hopes for one day joining the elder council and pushing through reforms.

Lofty ambitions that had been culled by a funghoul raid.

Out of nowhere.

The Sun had made large strides in protecting itself from the cursed Wrath, even so far that the Sun was now eclipsing the Moon's power significantly. Still, the curse always found a way to remind them of its presence. The unexpected raid that had killed the brother of his companion was only one of many examples.

Even if you persevered against the constant debilitation, the curse would one day come to get you.

No one was safe.

"I think I get it. The operatives said we need to kill the outsiders to reestablish our protection," explained the soldier. He had explained his theory before, and he knew it wouldn't be the last time. "They have teleporters. Whenever we locate them, they're already gone. They're also powerful. Even if we finally tie them down, it will be a tough battle. With the gates of our mages, we can use the funghouls to cover a larger area. Use our enemies against each other. Dwindle down their numbers while preserving our strength."

"And what if the funghouls get too close to the Sun?" protested Layla. "If the outsiders don't hold their attention? If they battle and the spores erupt from their blood into the air? This is madness!"

Her supervisor sighed.

He didn't know.

He didn't know, because his own superiors hadn't explained anything to him, either.

The man wished they had, but knew they didn't have to. They had done their part by conveying the orders to him. It was his job to convince the mages under his command.

He wasn't the type to simply flash his authority, especially not in cases like this. In cases where his subordinate had a legitimate grievance and personal history that might negatively affect their receptiveness to the orders to be executed.

As such, the commander could only guess at the reasoning and find a rationale that was accepted by his subordinates. He had come far with this approach, but it had its limits.

It appeared that his imagination failed him.

"I don't know," admitted the commander. "I know that when I asked the same question, I was told not to worry, so I trust they have taken steps to safeguard against such possibilities."

"What steps?" Layla really would like to know. "What steps could safeguard us against the curse? If we have steps like that, then why didn't we use them before?"

Once again, his imagination failed him. The soldier shook his head. "I only heard something about a protective mechanism."

"I heard rumors, too," hissed the mage. "Isn't the reason we're hunting the outsiders that they damaged that 'protective mechanism'? Isn't the reason the Deadlands got more active that this 'protective mechanism' was damaged? And we're relying on this damaged protective mechanism to safeguard the Sun against the Wrath?" She raised her hands. "So which is it?! Is this rumored protective mechanism damaged or not?"

"You know I don't have the answers to that," said her supervisor wearily. "And we don't have time for this. We still have to coordinate with the other mages to better connect the gates."

The mage took a deep breath. She trusted her commander. He had always done right by her. Still, this was bullshit. Layla had signed up for the Sun's military to ensure tragedies like her brother's might one day be relegated to history, but sometimes, she hated being a soldier.

The mage began anchoring her gate. While casting the magic that had been demanded of her, Layla shook her head. "This feels wrong…"

***

"Our findings align with Terry's claims," said Khaled. He glanced back over Yorgos and the rest of his scouting party. "Yorgos helped us infiltrate the secret compound and we sensed the channeling anchors exactly where Terry said they would be."

"How convenient," hissed Mercedes from the side.

Khaled sighed.

"What?!" demanded Mercedes. "You said it yourself! None of you have much experience interacting with channelers! Isn't it convenient that his entire story hinges on something in which no one else can really refute his claims? Channelers aren't exactly common in Arcana."

"Well, they are where I come from," hissed Patricia. "And I sensed the anchors, too. Right where Terry said they would be."

"We all know how much value there is about opinions on magic from Tiv," sneered Mercedes. She raised her hands and pleaded with the expedition members. "She's with Terry! Of course, she'd say that! Of course, his story involves a point no one can verify! In contrast to Terry, we're not used to hanging out with cultists. Even if they are, what does that prove?! It still doesn't prove anything about his claims regarding the curse! He's wasting time! He's wasting lives! Why can't you see that?!"

"We've been over this," barked Yorgos. "We all heard the arguments and voted. Your proposal lost, Mercedes. Even if I agree with you about Terry and the curse, what I sensed weren't just some random cultists."

Mercedes protested. "You said yourself you're not that experienced in—"

"He might not be, but I am," roared William angrily. "I've had enough tracking missions outside Arcana to be sure of what I sensed. These realm traitors are on the verge of turning into avatars. They're pseudo-avatars already. The curse interfering with their mana and channeling anchors might be the only reason their bodies and minds haven't turned into vessels for their false gods to descend into."

"Hogwash," muttered Mercedes quietly with nothing but despair in her eyes. "We're wasting time. So much time…"

"I thought the curse was horrible enough, but these lunatic cultists are actually staging an otherrealm invasion," growled William. "Unwittingly or not. If the Wrath is what has kept them from succeeding, then the curse might actually be a blessing in disguise."

"'Blessing'?" Mercedes appeared on the verge of losing her mind. "Monstrous. Simply monstrous. So many lives. So much suffering…"

Terry had been quiet throughout their exchange. Hearing his claims confirmed allowed him to take a step back and let others argue his case. Other voices that might invite more confidence from those that still held doubts for his version of events.

After the arguing quieted down, they could finally move on to the important parts.

"Did they detect you?" asked Terry.

"Of course," replied Yorgos. "That compound is warded from the floor to the ceiling. It was workable with the floor plans you described, but for the hidden chamber, we only jumped near and out."

"Didn't even take the time to be thorough…" Mercedes quietly muttered to herself while shaking her head. "Unbelievable. So many lives…"

"It was enough," said William firmly. The elf's eyes had changed after their scouting. The loathing his gaze had reserved for Terry before was now unleashed whenever the Sun's cultist leadership came up.

"We checked the surrounding fortifications and we had our mages verify the root system of that tree before we did the jump to confirm the channeling anchors," added Khaled. "We'll create a detailed report and make sure it reaches everyone."

"Can you give an abbreviated version for now?" asked Tiana. "If Terry is right, a lot hinges on the mark on the tree. The pseudo-avatars are bad enough on their own, but if they can call on the entire funghouls from the Deadlands, then this will turn from bad to worse fast."

"Any chance we can get in like before?" asked Jorg. "Like with Terry or now with Yorgos? Rush in. Teleportation? Loud but fast?"

"No chance," said William. "We can kill that cursed tree they use as a magical conductor, but that takes time. Nothing about that will be fast."

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"Yorgos?" Mia spoke up and sent her cousin a questioning glance.

"I checked," said Yorgos, and shook his head. "The pseudo-avatars are capable of blocking spatial blades. I don't think they will leave the tree unless we force them out."

"We either attack the tree through the roots, which will take time, or we bait the cultists out," said William.

"Which runs into the problem that they've beefed up their security since your first 'visit'," said Khaled with a glance to Terry. "It would have been best if we could have used the element of surprise to directly get rid of the problem."

"That wasn't an option and everyone knows it." Tiana pointed out. "Even now, there are people trying to undermine our unified front." She didn't have to look at the people behind Mercedes. Everyone knew whom she was talking about.

"Let's not get distracted by what can't be changed," interjected Terry. "Let's focus on what can be done. Are we ready to continue?"

"I'm ready when you are," said Mercedes.

"Same here," added Yorgos.

"Are you sure about this?" asked Jorg.

"Yes," said Terry firmly.

"Even about bringing her?" added Tiana. "That's like taking the chicken to the fox."

"What better way to show that we're a unified front?" returned Terry.

And I'm not going to let Shroomling out of my sights while being surrounded by expedition members close to Mercedes. I wish I could trust Yorgos and Mia completely, but I'm not willing to take that risk.

"Besides, there's more than one reason to do it like this," said Terry. He couldn't help but glance at Vess. He hadn't forgiven the Moon for what they had done.

Even if Terry knew they needed the Moon, he was unwilling to just let it go.

Actually, because they needed the Moon, he was even more unwilling. If they had to work together, then they better get a few things straight from the beginning.

Once again, Terry felt slightly uncomfortable when he realized how much the Warlord's Inquiries had influenced his thoughts. He didn't like Thanatos, neither the country nor the person.

Even so, Terry had come to respect Thanatos's perspective. He didn't want to become like the Warlord, but it was certainly a worthwhile perspective to keep in mind, especially when dealing with hostile 'allies'.

'Whatever is necessary to bring true understanding of everyone's position.'

***

One moment, the Moon was peaceful.

The next moment, the Moon's pavilion of leadership was surrounded and cornered.

Terry lamented the fact they couldn't get at the root of the problem at the Sun with such a surprise appearance anymore, but using it at the Moon was a great consolation experience.

Terry's spell slicers roamed around hungrily.

Spatial barriers were sealing the area.

Spatial blades and other powerful spellwork manifested everywhere without being released.

Physical blades appeared from the shadows to find their resting place at elven throats.

Even with the entire expedition working together, they remained outnumbered many to one, but it didn't matter.

Terry wasn't aiming for a fight. He was aiming for a statement.

For that, they had enough.

"If this is about revenge, then do your worst," hissed an elder of the Moon. "We don't fear death. You're free to die with us!"

"That's the one! He's the one obstructing our ingredient acquisition teams!"

"Look! That's— He brought the mushroom!"

Yes, and even with her right in front of you, you won't get her.

"Have they seen reason? But then what…?"

"Is that a giant?! They allied with the giants!"

Not yet, but it's nice of you to jump ahead. Fear what might be, so that we can move this along.

"Shut it!" roared Mia.

"Allow me," said Verecund. From his storage bracelets, constructs appeared and darted forth. When they released their magical fields, the sounds of the moon elves were cut off while still allowing them to hear.

"We didn't come here for you to speak," growled Terry. He would have liked to hand his role over to someone else, but it was him whom the Moon had the most resentment for, which made him the perfect person to bring the lesson home. "We invited ourselves so that you could listen."

Terry allowed his mana to sizzle as lightning around the king spear in his hand. His mana flared and his surrounding vortex of spell slicers lit him up like an angry demon in their mana sight.

"If anyone dares to harbor further intentions on Shroomling or any other shroomans, I swear you'll die the most pointless deaths imaginable," continued Terry. "Pointless, because the curse, the Wrath, is not what you think it is."

Terry used his spearhead to point at the group of hostage elders. "Some of you are properly old enough to have heard the true story behind the curse. That the Wrath is a form of vengeance. You so freely share who created the curse, but you seem awfully quiet about why they have done so."

Terry sneered. "I don't care about your reasons, but I care about your incompetence making everything worse. You obviously know there is a connection between the shroomans and the curse, but how can you act oblivious to the fact it's getting worse the more you hunt them?"

Terry glared at them while shaking his head. "If any of you had properly paid attention, then you would have realized the curse has changed over time, and I don't mean the relationship with the shroomans. Surely, you're not so blind you haven't realized the Sun is increasingly overshadowing you? Did you just dismiss the different effects of the curse as mere coincidence? Did you believe it's just more coincidence that the funghoul attacks are disproportionately hitting the Moon?

"You know who created the curse," said Terry matter-of-factly. "Thuzar, the Ungodly Angel, and one of our own realm's Faithless Saints. And you know what? You should thank her on your knees!"

That caught their attention.

Terry could see the muted elders would love nothing more than to tear him apart. "Because while the curse is avenging the damage you unwittingly inflicted on your own realm, it is actually protecting you from a fate far worse. A fate waiting for you thanks to the Sun."

Terry almost chuckled when seeing the brows among the moon elves furrow. He couldn't help but be grateful that there was such a long enmity between the two elven factions that the Moon would love nothing more than another excuse to hate the Sun even more.

I shouldn't go too far. They'll have to live with each other afterwards again.

"Or rather thanks to the cult hidden inside the Sun." Terry corrected himself. "Cultists worshipping a powerful magical being from another realm. Worshipping in a way that paves the path for this creature to invade the realm."

Terry leaned in closer. "Here's where your willful ignorance of the Wrath's history has made you vulnerable. Thuzar would not have unleashed such a curse for nothing, not even for your senseless slaughter of the shroomans. Not solely for that. We call them Faithless Saints because they were the vanguard liberating our realm from the shackles of the False Gods. They were the heroes fighting for the faithless. They were the protectors of our realm's independence and magic sovereignty."

Terry leaned back. "A curse meant to cleanse the realm from the invaders' presence. A curse made worse by the horrific hunt on the shroomans, who were helping defend the realm. A curse whose victims are now wielded as weapons by the Sun."

Terry reminded himself to always circle back to the Sun. To continue stringing along the Moon's long-standing hatred to bait them into believing him.

"You should have realized by now that the funghouls can demonstrate coordination," continued Terry. "It's no matter if you failed to realize the implications of the coordinated funghouls disproportionately targeting the Moon.

"It doesn't matter, because we now know." Terry was glad they had left Mercedes out of sight but closeby. Close enough for Yorgos and Mia to get to them if necessary, but far enough to not allow them to interject doubts into this conversation.

If they wanted to move the Moon, there was no place for doubt. They had to present a unified front.

A show of strength.

A promise of retribution and salvation.

"We've sensed the mark on the Sun cultists," said Terry. "As well as a mark on a cursed tree. A mark we know to have the ability to control the funghouls. That's why the Moon is being hit harder. That's why the Moon has fallen behind."

Terry ignored the silent outbursts from the muted elders. "We came here to investigate. We want to cure the curse, but let me be clear. Everything you've done so far? You've made it worse. So whatever you have to say, I don't care. You're not here to speak. You're here to listen. I'm going to tell you what we're going to do.

"We're going to get rid of the root of the problem," said Terry firmly. "We're going to destroy the marked tree sending the funghouls against the Moon. We're going to erase the presence of the otherrealm invaders. We're going to eradicate the reason why the Wrath was unleashed."

Terry stepped forward and allowed lightning to snake around his king spear and arm once more. "And afterwards, we're going to have a talk. If the curse is cured, I expect you to honor the shroomans for it is them you should thank for your realm having a future."

When Terry gave the signal, Yorgos pointed at the elder with the highest rank and Verecund unmuted the woman.

"Why should we believe anything you've said?"

Terry noted the woman didn't actually sound that skeptical. She was one of the people who appeared most swayed by invoking the crimes of the Sun.

Even if she didn't believe him, she probably considered this an opportunity to regain the upper hand over the Sun. What better way than to use the outsiders as an additional fighting force? For the Moon, Terry's proposal seemed like a win-win.

"I've opposed your plans openly from the beginning," replied Terry defiantly. "I've fought your hunting parties. I've fought my fellow expedition members for what I believe is right. I could have spun a story at any time, but instead I've suffered through inaction to figure out what is going on. So what do you think?"

The woman pursed her lips and creased her brows.

"And just to be clear," continued Terry grimly. "We know for a fact the cult exists within the Sun. We know for a fact the cult can control the funghouls. We believe that eradicating the cult will lift the curse, but it is far from certain." He glowered at her. "And if we're wrong about that, I can already tell you two things. First, I won't let you touch the shroomans, even then. Second, I'll come and hunt down every one involved in intentionally infecting my friends. The only reason I haven't done so yet is that I truly believe we can kill the curse."

Terry scoffed. "I know the Moon will resent me for both. I know some of you might start plotting some bullshit and try to backstab me now that you know my plans. I don't care. I'm putting it out in the open, because it's what I intend to do. I stand by it. That's who I am. No matter what. You tell me if I seem honest to you?"

Like it matters. His thoughts continued in a cynical tone. You've shown that you're willing to turn yourselves into monsters.

Monsters don't care about the truth.

Monsters only care about an opportunity they can exploit.

Terry didn't bother to hide the disdain from his face when looking at the moon elves that had stooped to intentionally infecting those that had tried to help them. Just because they hadn't helped enough. Just because Terry hadn't been willing to abandon his own morality and many of the expedition had been unwilling to abandon him.

Even if his opponent didn't have as honest a face as himself, Terry could practically see the thoughts in the elder's head.

Make your move, monster.

We both know what you want to do.

***

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