Chapter 105: Chapter 105

A new loop had started, and although things seemed as normal as they always did in Ogdenborough, that was far from the case.

Especially when space warped and somebody stepped into the dilapidated hovel at 13 Briar Court. That somebody being an Embodier, Almyra.

The previous looper frantically walked in urgency on her face.

“Orodan! It worked! I’m back in the loops! Even if they’re not my loops exactly! Now we need to immediat- gwah!”

And the urgency upon her face quite immediately vanished. Or rather, it was hard to note with how red her now healthy dark skin suddenly turned.

“Zaessythra…” he calmly began.

“Yes, Orodan?” she replied most sweetly.

“Have you considered that being wrapped around me like a predator in front of a guest might be inappropriate?”

“Of course, of course. Although said guest should think twice before inviting themselves into someone’s private quarters. But allow me to extricate myself from this situation. I apologize for such a sight… I believe this is our first time properly meeting. Zaessythra.”

Though nothing in her tone sounded the least bit apologetic. If anything, she seemed more annoyed at the interruption.

Almyra fled the room quicker than a lightning bolt, not at all returning the greeting. And it was only after the both of them were in a more appropriate state of attire that they stepped out.

Immediately, Almyra frowned at him, her face still red from what she had walked upon.

“What happened to your usual outfit?” she asked and then simply groaned and sighed in equal measure as she caught the pleased smile on the face of Orodan’s companion. “Do not answer that… I wish I had never asked.”

Orodan was not in his uniform, but rather, in one of the few sets of civilian clothes he had. A simple long-sleeved garment of cheap linen which had seen much wear. Even the used section at Fodgarton’s had stuff in better condition.

A remnant from his days of poverty.

“I have a spare at the barracks I’ll be swinging by to pick up after we’ve concluded. First… I need to deal with the battle over conceptual control,” Orodan spoke. Though at this point he doubted he would make any gains at all from facing off against these rival Embodiers

“I… I as well. I acquired some insights during the last battle which caused me to gain quite a few levels,” the previous looper said. She then craned her neck upwards to look at the half-dragon in the room. “Almyra. A pleasure.”

Though he could distinctly feel a certain level of competition from his cherished towards the shadow ruler of the Blackworth Collective. It couldn’t have been romantic jealousy for the woman was not only to be wedded to King Alstatyn but also far too indirect and physically frail to be Orodan’s type.

Which meant it could only be the fact that the two had fought once, near the end of the long loop where he had empowered the time loops himself.

Still, such matters could come afterwards as he felt the concept of Cleanliness itself summon his attention towards that strange place where only those who interacted with it could go.

Orodan closed his eyes, entering that familiar yet esoteric battleground where the concept of Cleanliness itself resided. He’d been here a number of times now, each loop forcing him to do battle in this conceptual place where competing Embodiers tried to wrest control of Cleanliness from him.

Of course, as his skill levels increased so too did his command over the concept itself. If he so desired, Orodan could now simply order the concept to sweep all his foes away and possibly do them some measure of harm in the real world too. His talent with the skill was simply that great and the concept itself recognized that and bowed to him. Of course, that was entirely unnecessary as he instead, with a gesture and proclamation of challenge, overwhelmed the insights and understandings of every rival Embodier present in a singular move.

Goat-woman, fusion slime, Custodian… none of them stood even the barest hint of a chance any longer.

His eyes opened in the real world to see Almyra pale and down to a knee. Hers had not gone as well it seemed.

“C-curses… I did not expect such terrifying talents to be embodying my concept as well…” she muttered, breathing shaky. “I do not think I can win.”

Orodan simply took her hand and pulled Almyra to her feet followed by a clap on the shoulder which sent the bookish woman stumbling forward.

“None of that talk. Now that you are in the time loops once more, that can be rectified. If you are deficient now, we shall simply amend that… with plenty of good training.”

The unsettlingly happy grin on his face didn’t make the previous looper any happier.

“Hmm… I must admit, having a body again feels quite exquisite. I can see, smell, taste, hear… feel,” Zaessythra spoke, adding the last word specifically to tease the other woman. “Do we have to immediately rush right back into training? I can finally speak freely without it feeling as though my mind and soul are getting pulled apart.”

Was that why she had spoken so very little while harboring within his soul? He felt doubly guilty for it taking as long as it had… and glad that was finally behind them.

“I would not force you into anything,” Orodan assuaged. “But I’d go crazy if not working on something.”

“Work, Orodan Wainwright, is something you shall have plenty of,” Almyra spoke, gesturing to the skies above where multiple divine comets were blazing through the air to approach him. “I originally came here to ask for your help upon Lonvoron too. Whatever you did… it brought everyone in the army back.”

Zaessythra’s mismatched eyes widened. She hadn’t been aware of the extent of his changes.

“You… you can’t mean…”

“She does. Everyone part of the core of our alliance has been brought into the time loops.”

Pindrop silence struck the room at that declaration.

The sheer weight of it, the realization that once upon a time he had began this journey alone and had now changed the very nature of the loops themselves to include tens of thousands…

…it was a moment whose significance could not be properly put into words.

A man, a mere time looper, who had changed not just himself, but the very nature of the journey he was upon. A moment of ineffable apotheosis.

For Orodan Wainwright was no longer the only one in the time loop.

Though he would forever be the only truly stubborn skill-grinder in them.

“Unbelievable… I thought you were simply changing events in the timeline, perhaps bringing a few people along. Not… not this,” Zaessythra muttered, clearly humbled by the thought of such cosmic alteration.

“That was all I did… though I did not expect your start position to change. I suppose having you practically tethered to my soul for so long has caused some interesting interactions with the loop mechanism,” Orodan said, raising a brow while the half-dragon gave him an entirely innocent look as though saying she had no idea what he meant.

“You two… cease your unspoken courtship and focus. Orodan Wainwright, I know not how you have done it, but my initial scans and inquiries tell me that every single soldier of the Blackworth Collective who was alongside us for the defense of Alastaia has now been brought into the loops. Many of them are understandably shocked, and even more of them are going around immediately talking about it,” Almyra warned. “And while the prospect of that might not bother you, it can certainly spell trouble for many of the rank-and-file soldiers on the front line who may well be captured by Eldritch and have answers tortured out of them. Even as we speak, battles against the Eldritch across the entire Collective are shifting with the new foreknowledge and sudden skill growth that many of these returners are bringing with them.”

“An entire three worlds’ worth of time loopers… what a headache…” the half-dragon muttered, her eyes already sharpening with the glint of calculations, plans and stratagems. “First, we must rally a quick force to put an immediate end to the Prophet. No fair one-against-one, no duel, just a swift ambush where we all swarm and kill it and then deal with the Eldritch. And no, Orodan, do not give me that look, this is an exceedingly time sensitive matter.”

“You can have your duel some other time. Your lady speaks true,” Almyra interjected. “You dragged tens of thousands of people into a phenomenon they were given no warning of and no time to prepare for. Naturally, some will have loose lips, and some might act foolishly around enemies that they should not. And while your world and the Magocracy’s are not under any immediate threat, mine is. Alstatyn is acting to mitigate the worst of the damages, but I m already receiving reports of the plague worlds attempting to capture soldiers for interrogation.”

That… was a fair point.

Yes, he had performed a feat beyond divinity and reality by changing the nature of the loops to the extent that he had, but in the process of that hadn’t truly been thinking how that would play out in the immediate short-term where everyone was most vulnerable. Especially those in contact with malicious enemies such as the Eldritch.

The Prophet getting its wicked hands on any of these new time loopers would be a bad thing indeed. Even if Orodan could cleanse the timeline again or purge them of the taint, the real concern was whatever horrific trauma they would suffer at that maddened zealot’s hands.

Having brought them all back, he felt responsible for ensuring their safety, which was a far cry from what those who had bestowed the loops onto him had done.

Unlike the Custodian who had only stepped in to protect him after he had shown his usefulness. Unlike the Boundless One who had anointed the Reject and then thrown him away once he went against its wishes… Orodan would not leave these new time loopers out to dry.

The ground shook with fury as something powerful landed just outside his hovel.

“By the Five… it’s… it’s Malzim! Father! Malzim himself has come!”

“I feel the chill of the grave already…”

“Look away! Look away lest yer’ eyes burn! That’s not one of the Cathedral’s fabled Avatars! That’s a God in ! Bow your heads!”

“He looks just as the statue in the temple depicts… how coldly handsome…”

Orodan stepped out the front door of his hovel, with Almyra and Zaessythra following, though the latter had to really stoop down since Inuanan architecture wasn’t exactly built to accommodate ten-foot tall half-dragons.

It was still the dead of night with the moon high in the sky, although everyone on his street was either on their porch or peeking out their windows at the glowing spectacle of Inuan’s God of Death descending unto their town in the flesh. This was no deity connected to the divine dimension either… but one whose very being was surrounded by a dimension of Malzim’s own, a domain of death.

Something which cost the God nothing as he could now freely move about in the material plane or simply wink out of existence altogether by entering the dimensional boundary. A terrifying advantage for anyone to possess, let alone a divine.

“Orodan Wainwright… it has succeeded. I am returned,” the Inuanan God of Death uttered. “And the world is in a state of tumult as-”

Malzim’s words were cut off as Orodan caught the divine in a firm embrace which squeezed with little cold breath the unfortunate and frail-looking deity had out of him. The Inuanan death God turned paler than anyone thought possible before Orodan finally stepped back.

“My friend, the debt I owe you shall never be repaid, this I swear. Not only did you help me in my early loops… but also when I needed it most in the course of bringing someone very close to me back. When none other stood beside me you did, and this, I will not forget in this loop or the ones forever after. Whenever you need it, the sword and arm of Orodan Wainwright is yours.”

Orodan didn’t think a divine could get embarrassed at being praised excessively, but Malzim managed it even as he tried waving the thanks off.

“You speak too well of me… I was hardly the only one to aid you…”

“Aye, and I’ll give thanks to them when I see them. But for now, we must depart. I know the world is in disarray due to so many people returning in time, but I’ll have to leave this in the hands of yourself and the other divines of Alastaia. For now, we must salvage the situation upon Lonvoron and the various worlds of the Blackworth Collective.”

“Understood… they are under an active invasion of six plague worlds, are they not? Go on, Orodan Wainwright. The God of Death and his fellows shall stand safeguard over Alastaia today.”

[Dimensional Step 50 → Dimensional Step 51]

Zaessythra took his hand, and Malzim’s face blurred out of sight as Orodan used a singular Dimensional Step to cross the wide gulf between galaxies, leaving Alastaia. They triggered numerous alarms and wards, but this time he wasn’t as concerned about avoiding detection since the guardian of the Vystaxium Galaxy was now in the loops with him.

Instead of arriving upon Port Bellgrave as he usually did, his target this time was far more direct.

The center of the dead zone. Specifically, the King’s war camp where several people were already waiting.

It was warded of course, and had numerous countermeasures against dimensional intrusion, courtesy of Fenton who had gotten to work far quicker than Orodan would have thought possible. But these wards immediately retracted allowing him inside.

Eight legs winked into existence upon his shoulder just as he set foot onto the prime world of the Blackworth Collective.

“Took you long enough my favorite brute,” Talricto greeted. “I was thinking of paying you a visit right when I came to but when I peered in and saw what unsightly activities you were engaging in... my many eyes can only tolerate so much foul behavior.”

“This is not the time for such comments,” Almyra chided, glaring at the dimensional phase spider.

“Damn it Mister Talricto… now my image of Mister Orodan’s been sullied…” Fenton said, looking as though he’d swallowed something nasty. The lad then looked to Zaessythra and his face went pale. “Bloody hell… I s’pose only someone as big as you can keep him in line. Er… apologies Miss… Zaessythra? He spoke of you often.”

“I am aware. I heard every word of it after all,” she replied. “And while I should love to know such a favored disciple of Orodan’s, the time for that is not now. Already I can sense the energies of the plague worlds reaching a peak. They intend to capture as many of your forces here as they can, even at great loss to themselves.”

“We cannot have that. Not now,” Orodan declared, his face taking on a look of determination as Fenton handed him a broom the lad had already prepared. Not that he needed it, but the implement helped center his mind upon the task at hand. “Ready Almyra? Can’t say I plan… but everyone brought back is relying on me now.”

The woman nodded, bringing out her Administrator’s Mantle in plain sight and donning it.

Just as she did, Orodan’s broom touched the ground…

[Domain of Perfect Cleaning 190 → Domain of Perfect Cleaning 191]

…and all six enemy plague worlds were instantly and immediately cleansed.

Orodan’s Vision of Purity was close to the Grandmaster-level now. And his Dimensionalism had reached Grandmastery. With these two in tandem, alongside Domain of Perfect Cleaning to detect the foul taint of the Eldritch wafting off the zealot, it wasn’t difficult to see past the dimensional boundary and notice the Prophet floating in the void of a nearby plane ready to swoop in.

Talricto took that option away from the Administrator. The wanderer’s deft control over the art of manipulating planes and their boundaries was employed to devious effect, using the zealot’s sight into the material plane as a pathway to drag it into their side.

With a shocked look upon its human-guised face, the Prophet stumbled onto Lonvoron.

Where the first thing to greet it was a titanic beam of power from Almyra’s Administrator’s Mantle. Talricto and the Collective’s spatiomancers and few dimensionalists immediately warded the planet itself from destruction by pulling the two combatants into a separate dimension.

A dimension which Orodan and Zaessythra stepped into, sealing the foe’s doom.

“The audacity! To strike at one of the chief servants of our provenance itself! Heresy and sacrilege of the most base form!”

Almyra’s own stolen Mantle was keeping its attention occupied, but not for long. However, not much of a distraction was needed as Zaessythra’s hand whipped out towards it… and twisted.

Howls of agony erupted from the Administrator, and Orodan could clearly see why. Its very soul was in extreme agony. As though the very notion, the very… concept of pain, was suddenly inflamed within its being.

When had she learned that?

“Our lord! My saviour! Please rescue your most humble servant! An agent of the Great Enemy has entered our sanctuary!” the Prophet shrieked, halfway pleading due to the extreme torment.

But Orodan had no more time to waste. He alone would have been enough, though that might have caused far more destruction than necessary. And as he’d learned recently, just as his power could do great good… so too could it cause great ill. Which was why he had begun to wisen up and listen to his allies more often.

And with the Prophet’s attack now occupied and its attentions wrecked by the agony…

…Orodan’s full-power descending sword, enough to kill even an empowered version of it in the last loop descended upon its neck.

The Prophet’s death had caused more than a few ripples throughout the Vystaxium Galaxy. Not only did Almyra now possess two Administrators’ Mantles but the complete cessation of the Eldritch attacks upon the Blackworth Collective had freed up many resources and also caused a heavy influx of refugees and returning former tainted from the previously corrupted worlds.

Needless to say, the previous looper had her hands full with managing her galaxy in the aftermath. And unsurprisingly, Zaessythra had stepped in and offered to assist her. It was a surprise to Almyra but not to Orodan who had seen the half-dragon’s prodigious tactical acumen and ability to direct the armies and fleets of entire worlds.

If there was anyone made for rulership, it was her.

Zaessythra’s political acumen was unnerving, as was her ability to handle grand interstellar strategy and the logistics of multiple worlds. Almyra, who looked overwhelmed by the notion of having to deviate from the typically rigid and familiar circumstances of her loops, welcomed the aid and counsel like a parched dog in a desert.

Of course, such aid meant that she had to leave Orodan behind for a span of two days. Entirely understandable given how his presence tended to make diplomacy go.

And while Orodan had simply returned to Alastaia to help deal with its matters and shore up its own defenses, being apart from her left him with an exceedingly unpleasant feeling within. As though something integral he’d grown so used to was no longer around.

What an alien feeling it was!

Still, now as he stood upon the restored green plains of Vylrystia, that period of separation was coming to an end.

Vyrathul. The capital city of the Irithustran Monarchy and the largest city upon this world which had been brought back through time.

In the past, Orodan hadn’t really considered this place to be anything but the moon, with its crumbling ruins and sprawling gray landscapes of barren rock. What need had there been to learn any of the names? But with Vylrystia permanently added to the timeline—something that would persist across loops—he no longer had that excuse.

Near the end of it all, adding Vylrystia and its history had been a tricky thing which had required a delicate touch. How could one add a world—from hundreds of thousands of years in the past—to the timeline without causing a horrible cascading effect?

Even he hadn’t quite known, and he’d nearly settled for simply bringing the planet back each loop… if not for the memories of his alternate selves hitting him.

His alternate selves were from false timelines which never really existed… but the time loop mechanism did. And it held the memories of all his loops and the loops of all other loopers before him. It was proof that something need not exist in the current timeline to truly exist.

And using it as an anchor, Orodan had used Domain of Perfect Cleaning and Incipience of Infinity in tandem with Eidolon of Violence to permanently add a restored Vylrystia to the start point of each loop. A Vylrystia from a different time, permanently existing within this one. One where its people had never suffered and been butchered and experimented upon when they fled to Alastaia.

A most complicated thing which thankfully allowed for the continued existence of spider dragons and many other people on Alastaia who would have otherwise had a very bad time due to his tampering with the timeline. The main timeline remained unaffected… for Orodan had pulled the Vylrystia of another timeline into his.

Something made possible only due to the time loop mechanism. And something which gave him hope that he could eventually make real and save that other Orodan Wainwright too. The one who he had destroyed with his careless actions.

And although that goal was far away and would require much training with the forces of time and his ability to alter reality, in the here and now Vylrystia was very real. A testament to how far he had come.

The area outside the city was a landscape of sprawling green. And Orodan had to remind himself that this used to be Alastaia’s very moon. A point which had apparently caused quite a stir on Alastaia as it and the main timeline was still used to the moon being dead.

The people of his homeworld now saw a jewel of green and blue in the sky instead of the lifeless moon they were used to. And the capital city of Vyrathul’s lights and towering spires and floating isles were a faint but persistent sparkle visible even from Alastaia at night. Hells, the capital cities on Alastaia had even launched a celebratory display of dazzling elemental magic into the skies on their end in timing with the dragon mages of Vylrystia, all to commemorate the occasion and sudden return of their sister world.

The common folk back home were understandably awed, and he was sure society was going through its paces of awe, cultural shock and more as the average individual noticed the lively moon above their heads. After all, being from another timeline, Vylrystia’s existence was as much of a surprise to the people of Alastaia as it was to the half-dragons themselves who found the time and landscape of the worlds around them changed.

And by the standards of a naturally powerful race such as the half-dragons, this city was quite populated.

Half-dragon children marvelled at the void ships of the Collective in the sky above. Laborers, merchants, craftsfolk, guards and soldiers all muttered and chattered excitedly about what the future might hold and what the visitors to their world would bring. And of course, they were staring quite intently at him, the only human present.

Humans weren’t utterly exotic upon Vylrystia, for the planet had visitors and dignitaries come by often enough, but humans as large and angry-looking as he were. And while that by itself shouldn’t have drawn as much attention as it did, the fact that his visage was hanging off of multiple posters might have.

He was practically dazzling. Or rather, the version of him depicted in the poster was. A most noble and heroic bearing which was a hundred-and-eighty degree turn from his usually angry-looking expression.

Who the hells had drawn this travesty? Orodan could only think of one particular militia man.

“Edrosic… you bastard…” he muttered under his breath.

“Honored mortal… are you perhaps a relative of the most gracious and beneficent Orodan Wainwright?” a half-dragon guard in resplendent plate armor called.

“A relative? I am him…!” he corrected, still exasperated by these ridiculous posters of him that were hanging off of every public building.

“A-apologies my lord-”

“Your beneficence… the World-Queen requests your presence in the citadel itself. Please, allow us to escort you.”

Orodan said nothing else as he allowed himself to be led to where he was apparently expected. Zaessythra had invited him here, alongside all other leaders of the alliance. Since the Prophet’s defeat, now that things had finally settled into the barest semblance of order and everyone had been briefed on and accepted the time loops as real.

“Mother… is that him?”

“Don’t stare! I hear he can smite you with his eyes!”

“I haven’t seen a human as big before…”

“He looks so much more handsome in-person… the countenance of a true warrior and not that of those frilly posters!”

Orodan fought down the urge to agree with that last old half-dragon woman that the posters were indeed ridiculous, but with the way that one was looking at him he didn’t think Zaessythra would be all too pleased.

The streets weren’t really populated as densely, and it was apparent why as groups of half-dragon younglings zipped through the air engaged in play or exercises in preparation for combat roles in their adult lives. It was also the reason there wasn’t any urban sprawl outside the walls of Vyrathul. What need was there for that when the architecture and sprawl was more vertical than horizontal?

Whatever event had created the half-dragons had formulated an exceptionally stable species not very prone to mutations or defects. Almost every half-dragon had wings, and they had also inherited the fabled immortality of dragonkind itself. Any mutations or defects causing wingless infants were swiftly handled via ritual and magical adjustment as well. A trivial addition when their race already needed rituals and special conditions for propagation much like the elves did.

And the winged race had little need of horizontal sprawl in their cities when they could simply fly upwards. Towering spires, floating isles, gigantic structures with no stairs between floors but instead holes allowing flight, the capital city’s very architecture was designed to accommodate half-dragonkind.

Still, human visitors incapable of flight weren’t just carried like sacks of flour or given a perilous but swift trip the ground. Teleporters were placed in key locations and it was to one of these that Orodan was led.

He stepped in, the guard not following…

…and space warped as his footsteps carried him into a grand throne room.

Walls of white gold inlaid with amber. Alcoves near the top leading to the sky where hawk-eyed draconic guards carefully kept watch, and enchanted pillars which Orodan felt contained some powerful wards allowing the citadel to survive cataclysmic damage or conjure barriers around the entirety of the city.

It was the citadel of Vyrathul he had stepped into, its throne room. The seat of power of the Irithustran Monarchy.

And upon the very throne itself was a familiar half-dragon, her striking mismatched eyes perfectly mirroring the throne room’s color scheme of white and gold.

“I… find it difficult to believe… but the formerly rebellious divinities truly have agreed to the ceasefire,” Almyra spoke, looking up at the throne. “Your majesty, your work speaks for itself. You have done what I could not.”

Zaessythra rose and stepped down from the throne, her ten-foot-frame utterly dwarfing the smaller woman as she placed a hand upon Almyra’s shoulder.

“Of course. Once certain tactical adjustments were made and their position in the divine dimension itself threatened, they would naturally become amenable to a ceasefire and a potential accord. A blade from one end, an outstretched hand with generous terms from the other. Swordpoint diplomacy,” she explained. “It could not have come to fruition without the two of us working together.”

“The Blackworth Collective owes you a great debt. With some of these tactical adjustments…” Almyra muttered.

“Say nothing more of it. We are all in this together are we not? With Lord Eldarion of Alastaia lending his diplomatic voice, a mere suggestion of certain tactics from myself and your own mastership and King Alstatyn’s rule over the Collective, this outcome was achieved,” Zaessythra humbly praised, diminishing her own contributions. Then, her eyes caught him, and she smiled. And Orodan wasn’t sure if he liked that at all. “Ah. But you must excuse me. A guest of honor has come. The very man whose unique ability to unshackle the divine had our foes agreeing to our terms at the explanation of it.”

The grand throne room of Vyrathul was full of not just half-dragons but the leaders of the Alastaian alliance. Mage-lords of Thazrivin, generals from Guzuhar, the Republic, Novarria and Eldiron, and Blackworth Collective officers and elemental lords from the planes. King Alstatyn, everyone he had ferried along for the loops in Alastaia, his disciples and everyone of import was present.

There were plenty of half-dragon courtiers, government officials and nobility present as well. And in front of them all, before even the throne room’s crier could speak, Zaessythra’s voice echoed loudly and clearly first.

“Everyone. Please rise.”

The seats arranged facing the throne were emptied as everyone stood and turned to look right at him.

“Whenever I have this many people looking at me I’m usually facing an army, not standing in a throne room while I’m announced,” he spoke, interrupting the otherwise weighty silence.

A few of the half-dragon courtiers trembled and gasped, shooting him a scandalized look for speaking out of turn. His upbringing in a Republic and not a monarchy showed. Although the visiting guests from the alliance were all at ease, those of Vylrystia moved with a certain level of reverence and awe-struck respect for her.

Zaessythra simply cut them off with a sharp slicing gesture from her hand, silencing them all.

“Yes, well significant deeds deserve significant recognition. We cannot have you running from one battle to the next without being commended for all you’ve done for everyone,” she replied and then schooled her features. He had spent long enough with her soul practically bonded to his to know when she was nervous. Even in this newly restored guise of hers. “But enough of that.”

The crier was cut off as her hand rose to silence the half-dragon who looked as though he had been entrusted the most important task of them all.

“It is fine. Only fitting that he be announced by me and none other,” Zaessythra softly uttered before steeling her voice. “Everyone. Our world, our worlds… have recently been granted a new lease on life. Their corrupt old orders dismantled and justice delivered unto the perpetrators. The pervasive and ever-encroaching spread of the Eldritch taint halted and then purged from our world cores. And ancient wrongs set right as the injustices of the past have been reversed. Together as an alliance we have come far, battling various foes and standing our ground steadfastly to reach this point… and now we are together, returned and stronger for it. And as far as we have come together… none of it would have been possible if not for one man, one warrior, whose unbreaking devotion to us all led him to standing against foe after foe, facing death after death, in pursuit of this day. A day which has seen not only I restored in full, but this world of Vylrystia and its peoples as well.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The half-dragons in the throne room looked upon him reverentially now, a gaze which had him feeling equal parts uncomfortable and burdened by the weight of their expectations. He was a warrior, but here, she was presenting him as something more than just that.

Her face was now quite pale, as though she was on the verge of saying something she was quite afraid of. Orodan struggled to understand just what would have the normally resilient and unflinching half-dragon afraid.

He briefly frowned, ready to dispense a beating upon the cause of it, whatever it was.

“Today, I have the honor of introducing Orodan Wainwright. A warrior. The World-King of Alastaia… the time looper. And… my consort-to-be.”

The hall fell dead silent…

…and then erupted in a cacophony of noise.

And Orodan realized now why the woman was had looked so nervous.

For it seemed as though he would have to dispense a thrashing upon himself.

# Chapters fırst released on NoveI(F)ire.net

“Hah! You should have seen your face!”

“I’m glad you’re amused Alstatyn.”

“And you should have seen her! She looked ready to faint! As though she was facing down the worst monster she’d ever seen!” the King of the Collective barked out, clapping him on the shoulder and then wincing at how sturdy it was.

“I do not think I misstepped… did I?” Orodan asked, in thought, feeling quite out of his element.

He didn’t think so. All he’d done was remain quiet and perhaps been more than a little taken aback by Zaessythra’s bold declaration. Following which she’d almost too swiftly moved onto the next topic of discussion—economic deals and exchange rates which Orodan cared little for—and then called for a break.

The World-Queen of Vylrystia had stalked out of the grand throne room of her citadel quickly, with Almyra in tow.

“My friend… has anyone told you that your countenance is akin to that of a rock? A very angry one which inspires great intimidation, but a rock nonetheless,” Alstatyn jested.

“Well yes, I’ve been told quite often than I have an angry-looking face which will make me no friends on first sight,” he admitted. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, your stoic demeanor and angry expression don’t inspire much confidence in a woman who just tried to publicly declare her intentions towards you.”

“Her… intentions?” Orodan asked, finding the notion rather foreign. “What intention is there to declare? I belong to none other but her, is that not obvious? Why, we even-”

“N-now hold on… you needn’t tell me exactly what illicit things you two got up to!” the man frantically cut off, face red as he waved his hands as though trying to ward away evil spirits. “You are missing the point my friend. Her declaration of you as her consort-to-be was a bold and risky move on her part. If you haven’t noticed, thanks to you we’re all part of the time loops now. If marriages and courtship going awry outside of the loops can make people talk, then imagine how much worse it could get among all us time loopers? And she openly announced who you are to her in front of us all. It signals her commitment.”

Did it? From that lens, Orodan hadn’t even considered it like that. He was an idiot, yes, but he had grown up an orphaned rat of the streets who had little time for things like courtship or romance. Whatever affairs he’d engaged in prior to the loops and in his very early ones were all base and physical things with no emotional feelings therein.

He had heard of the notion of courtship and romances, but for him and every other poverty-stricken urchin they were far away things which came third or even fourth after survival, power and getting somewhere in life. The unions he saw were without feeling, or borne of two struggling people getting together to mutually carve something better out for themselves.

It was in fact why, before the loops, he and the blacksmith’s daughter had drifted apart. She had fancied him, and he had gone along with it. But the girl had an entirely different set of expectations about what would come after than he did. She had expected a fairy tale romance, marriage and children. He had thought they would perhaps live together and share expenses making life cheaper.

In hindsight… it had been a poor moment of his. She had lived a vastly different life to his own, one where her mother and father were present, loving and modeled what a marriage should be. A far cry from his own where he’d had no one besides the matrons who even at the best of times weren’t terribly interested in teaching the orphans much more than the minimum.

“Forgive me… I was not even aware of the significance of her declaration… I was a fool of the highest order, and unworthy of such an expression of her devotion,” Orodan declared, arms crossed with a frown on his face as he chastised himself for his inconsiderate behaviour.

“Orodan, I’d smack you upside the head if it didn’t hurt my own hand. You haven’t even done anything wrong!” Alstatyn insisted. “She practically flew to the next topic quicker than a bird spooking at the sound of a gun. I think she was just as worried about your reaction to the whole incident as you were.”

Orodan raised an eyebrow at that.

“Her? Why would she be afraid? Of course I would be nothing but grateful for such a gesture.”

“But have you explicitly told her that?” the King asked, and Orodan saw the point. “You know yourself and your own thoughts. But she does not. Yes, I admit that us men tend to be the ones who need something spelt out more often than not, but women aren’t all psionic mind readers either. And even if yours was, she clearly likes you far too much to invade the privacy of your mind.”

“Hmm… perhaps I shall confront her and tell her to her face-”

“No. Not like that. I know that look in your eyes,” the man interrupted. “You’ll barge into her private quarters while she slumbers and deliver it like an emissary pronouncing a declaration of war.”

“…I’m not that tactless,” Orodan defended. He had enough good sense and social acumen to respect peoples’ privacy, honor his debts and be considerate of their wishes. It was simply this notion of… courtship, which he wasn’t familiar with.

“Heh! Well I suppose you’re not the Eldritch in a pottery shop that her Majesty tells me you used to be in your earlier loops.”

And of course she would know, since the time loop mechanism had restored her memories of all those past loops too. From the Inter-Academy Tournament to her self-sacrifice in Novar’s Peak, she remembered it all now. The others who were part of the loops only had last loop and this one to their names.

But the process of resurrecting her demanded plenty of significant memories. It was why he dragged the world of Vylrystia itself into the bowels of the System. And that significance had naturally pulled all her memories of prior loops into her via the time loop mechanism itself.

“I’ve learned to listen and watch how I act. Especially nowadays…” he muttered, thinking of that other Orodan who had looked so serenely happy. Perhaps that one had the right idea and would know how to act in this situation. “Is that why Almyra made a hasty escape with Zaessythra while you ushered me out the door and into this hallway?”

“Took you long enough to catch on. If you haven’t noticed, while your lady and mine have some strange rivalry going on, they also have a close camaraderie. And as much as Queen Zaessythra’s tactical acumen is valued by my Almyra, so too does she value my love’s advice in the matters of the heart.”

“Oh? I was not aware your companion was so well-versed in these complicated matters,” Orodan said.

Alstatyn’s face turned red for a moment, and then the man burst out laughing.

“Oh heavens no! Who do you think she got the idea of that declaration in front of everyone from? I still remember when she proclaimed me her divinely ordained soulmate in front of a crowd of the Collective’s top-ranking military commanders,” Alstatyn revealed. “Gods of the Blackworth… I love Almyra to death but she’s the single most socially awkward and clumsy woman I have ever seen in my life. Precisely why I love her, mind you, but she is in absolutely no position to be giving yours any advice.”

Orodan scratched his head in confusion.

Then why had this man allowed her to do so?

“I can sense the question. And the answer to that’s simple. Her advice is… suspect, yes. Overly idealistic too. But it’s also perfect for Zaessythra, especially when it comes to a bullheaded rock like you. After all… silly and over-the-top as her proclamation was… it worked. And here and now, I can see that you don’t dislike what your lady did either.”

That… was a good point. Subtle words and gestures probably would not have been received by Orodan.

“Well, Alstatyn, I think ruling the Collective should come second to your advice on matters of the heart,” Orodan replied.

“You joke, but I simply wished to see you two happy. After all… you brought my Almyra back to me, restored her from that terrible curse and then killed that wicked Prophet too. I’m the happiest I have ever been, and I simply wish to see that in you as well.”

“But will she be?” Orodan asked, more serious now. “My path will be one of endless battle… she knows this. And she knows I will not stop moving forward. Ever the next enemy, always the next insurmountable goal to reach… my path doesn’t end in some idyllic farmhouse but on the field of battle.”

“You think too much, Orodan Wainwright. I do not think she would have done what she did today if she was not well aware of all those things,” the King said, patting him on the shoulder as he walked past. “You should take a closer look at her soul sometime. Almyra tells me it’s quite unlike any other she’s seen across all her loops.”

With that, the King of the Blackworth Collective departed for the grand hall of the throne room once more. The actual combined council was looking to start up and both his and Orodan’s presence was expected.

Right. Of course. It was not simple true soul genesis, but more so the act of taking the tattered and destroyed remnants of one and then reforging it anew. Not just through any regular process, but in the perfect center of a collision between two Boundless Ones, forcibly equalized by Orodan’s own power.

And in the end, that strange green-colored ethereal being which had saved him yet again.

Orodan had not forgotten its help. He would not forget. It had helped him bring her back when everything was looking hopeless otherwise.

It came from outside System space and with all his focus devoted towards altering the starting conditions of the loops for just his homeworld and the two other factions accompanying, he hadn’t been able to check to see if it had reset in the loops.

But that was a later concern. For now, the gathered assembly of all important loopers brought into the fold was waiting. And it seemed that Lieutenant-General Tegin Carrotfoot of Anthus would be heading the discussion as always. Likely chosen for his acumen in handling internal matters with great proficiency.

Orodan entered the grand hall to see Alstatyn present already, Zaessythra not on her throne but around a grand table that had been set up, choosing to stand beside everyone as an equal and representative of her faction, and Almyra next to her.

Of course, Orodan caught sight of two divines who he had not the chance to really see during the past two days.

“Orodan Wainwright? It is good to see you. I begin each loop free of Cithrel’s shackles now and for that-”

“Orodan! This new dimension of illusions and trickery is so much fu-”

Both divines could only sputter and choke as Orodan pulled them both into a crushing hug, one in each arm.

“Hrk! Let go you brute!” Faraine demanded.

“You’ll crush me to death!” Ozgaric pleaded, his smaller frame being lifted into the air.

So Orodan finally set them down, a most grateful smile on his face.

“Thank you. I will never forget what you two did. You helped me get her back. You stood by me and had faith when no one else would.”

The both of them scoffed, though he could see the red of embarrassment at being so openly praised on both faces.

“Hmmph! But of course! Do you take me for one of the other faithless elven deities? A Goddess must be worthy of having her faithful. For just as they hold faith in her, so too must she hold faith in them.”

“She speaks true. In the north it is not uncommon for us deities to have closer relationships of mutual trust and dependence with our people. I merely extended that to you, Orodan, who has given me much already.”

Orodan was touched, truly. Ozgaric had shown his character from early on before Orodan was ever in a position to give him much of anything. For a God of Trickery and Illusions, the divine whose true form was that of a young boy, was quite benevolent and responsible towards his followers and any strangers that needed his help.

Faraine however, had surprised him. He only really helped her because of Vespidia, who was his friend. But he could now see why the reincarnated elf was so dead set on rescuing the imprisoned Goddess. Perhaps some divinities truly were worthy of such fanatical devotion even after one’s reincarnation.

“While this reunion is quite heartwarming,” Destartes spoke up. “Perhaps you might want to help our chief speaker secure his surroundings before those two devilish women bully him to death?”

Chief speaker? Bullied?

Orodan immediately heard who the old wizard was referring to.

“Might you please stop resting your arm upon my head?”

“Apologies… my shootin’ arm’s a little tuckered out…” Madam Lawson of the Collective said.

“And can you please take a step to the side? Your derriere is hitting me every time you move!”

“Why I must apologize yet again darling,” Luetta Treadway spoke, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

And Orodan had to wonder whether the woman was doing it intentionally at this point. He also felt quite bad for Anthus’s unfortunate commanding officer who looked more than a little overwhelmed with all these people crowding around him.

It couldn’t even be said that it was the lack of space, for the throne room of Zaessythra’s citadel had far more of it than Anthus’s war room did. By now, it was apparent that the unfortunate halfling just had a propensity for getting physically bullied by those larger than he.

“For the last time, can I have some damned personal space! You! Put that staff away or I shall deposit it somewhere most uncomfortable!” the halfling shouted, glaring death at a mage lord of Thazrivin who quailed under the threat. “And you! Cease flashing your lightning in my eyes or I’ll order an artillery salvo sent your way!”

This-One-Who-Electrifies-Horizons, from an alcove leading outside, let out a singular sad pulse before quieting down. And finally, Orodan stepped in behind Lieutenant-General Tegin Carrotfoot and used his frame to forcibly clear some space for the beleaguered halfling whose size made him rather easy to push around in a crowd.

“Thank you Mister Wainwright. Though do not think I have forgotten your part in this…” the halfling grumbled. “I also quite clearly remember looking up into the void sky one moment and then suddenly being upon the balcony of my private quarters the next. A very odd feeling! And next thing you know, I’m part of the time loops!”

“A little more pleasant than getting killed in combat and being sent back in time,” Orodan added. “Though, I suppose that dream of retiring without joining the loops and having a personal library shall have to be amended.”

The halfling commander shot him a sharp glare at that before clearing his throat and amplifying his voice via a spell. The throne room was now quite packed. Mainly due to the addition of the Unity’s ambassadors and tactical decision-making units.

“If I might have your attentions. It is about time we begin this gathering since we are all finally present,” Tegin Carrotfoot said, glaring lightly at Orodan who had been the last to enter. “Now then. As you can see, Mister Wainwright did not lie. We are, all of us who are part of the alliance, in a time loop”

A cacophony of remarks and agreements followed that.

“Can’t believe I’m back in time… what devilry is this?” an Alastaian commander asked.

“Is that how he got so strong? But how did he do it in such a short time?”

“And to think there existed chronomancy of such power…” a mage-lord muttered.

Tegin’s loud claps silenced them all.

“Order please. I understand that the revelation and recent induction into the time loops cannot be easy to accept, but we must come to terms with it swiftly and make plans for this immediate loop and those thereafter. That is after all, the purpose of this meeting, to establish standard operating procedures for all of us newly inducted time loopers and to confirm that we are on the same side in wanting the peace, prosperity and betterment of our respective worlds and homes.”

Many faces around the room lost some of the stress they’d been harboring at that. An Alastaian council member of the Republic, specifically, Count Rohanus Simarji of the Republic, spoke up.

“I for one agree with your proposed direction for us all, General. Most of us have read the documents briefing us on what has occurred throughout these loops and while it pleases me to know that my ancestor Adeltaj Simarji has been a significant figure trusted and brought in early, I believe I still have some worries about what Lord Wainwright himself intends for us. He is after all, the time looper himself, and a being of unfathomable power compared to the entirety of this alliance. It is not inaccurate to say that we are at his mercy. If it is not too bold, I speak for more than myself in saying that we would like to hear his own words on the matter.”

“Let me clarify one thing, I’m not a lord, nor do I ever wish to be,” Orodan began, correcting the usage of that dreadful title. “As for your worries, although the power imbalance between us is not likely to change and my words might not mean much… let me say here and now that I have no interest in having anyone fight my battles for me. I have a grand ambition, a final goal which I strive for. One I will achieve alone if needs be. Ever have I been a warrior who confronts his problems on his lonesome, sword and shield in hand. This has not and will not change.”

The gathering of assembled nobility, mage-lords and Collective officers looked a little less concerned as he spoke. He couldn’t blame them either. Alstatyn, Almyra and the people he’d brought along in his looping group already knew him. They’d spoken to him, gotten a read of his character and seen how he treated his allies and friends.

These tens of thousands of other people now brought along for the loops did not.

They’d essentially been brought into the time loops without their knowledge or consent, something which Orodan felt slightly bad for. But if Alastaia was to take charge of the reins of its own destiny. If the Collective was to liberate itself of the Eldritch and if Thazrivin was to strike out into the cosmos and learn its mystical secrets while maintaining independence… then the armies of the alliance needed to have the same advantage that he did.

He was still the central looper who the mechanism was tied to. But branching out from him… he had altered the mechanism in such a way that everyone now part of the alliance was tagging along. The loops, resetting upon only his death, would bring all these people back with him too.

Of course, as grotesquely powerful as this seemed, it still didn’t erase the fact that the alliance had only three Embodiers among them. And the cosmos was large, full of terrifying foes and the Administrators and Boundless One who stood above them all. Furthermore, achieving even Transcendence took a lot of time for the vast majority, let alone Embodiment.

By now it would be delusional to say that Orodan wasn’t unfathomably talented. And in things he didn’t possess explicit talent for, he compensated with hard work driven by an ethos which none other could match. But could anyone else reach the heights he had even with ten times the loops he had gone through?

The odds weren’t good. Almyra, who had been a time looper for far longer than he, had not gotten nearly as powerful individually. And the Prophet had outright told him that no other time looper in the System’s history had ever defeated an Administrator before. Orodan Wainwright then, was an anomaly.

And even with the advantage of a time loop, the three worlds he had brought along had an uphill battle to face if they were to stand against the true powers of the cosmos.

“Hmm… ancestor Adeltaj vouches for your character quite often when he speaks to me. A few of us were concerned that you would utilize us as your personal army, but your words are that of a warrior who has no need of allies. I have no further concerns,” Count Rohanus spoke.

“Feh! You southerners and your suspicions…” Yarostov Iron-Bear muttered. “He has the bearing of an honest man, and our lord Ozgaric approves of him. What was there to ever be concerned about?”

The chatter continued for a few minutes after with the discussion turning towards how everyone’s loops began, some stupid moments they encountered or mistakes in the day they reversed with newfound foreknowledge.

“And I nearly got yanked right into that bleedin’ plague rift too… I’d have been one of them mumblin’ nutters if not for Lord Wainwright saving my hide,” a Transcendent-level Collective mercenary captain spoke.

And before Orodan could yet again correct the man that he was not a lord, Anthus’s commander interjected.

“Which is why it remains critical that we now take a moment to survey our current situation and formulate a plan of what we can expect at loop start each time. Please unfurl the diagram prepared by Mister Edrosic.”

“Of course he isn’t here…” Orodan muttered.

“Right… I tried catching him, but he was quite insistent on avoiding you, teacher,” Zukelmux added from the side. “Something about extra training for all that work he put you through. And those… posters.”

Extra training? Well certainly. Edrosic had ensured that Orodan got the best fight of all his loops thus far. Why would he not reward the militia man with extra training to help him get even better at his craft? The posters however, were a different matter for which he would dispense some extra sparring rounds.

Further talk on the matter of a certain illogically talented artist was cut off as a giant canvas was rolled out onto the war table. It contained exquisitely detailed diagrams of each and every world, faction, soldier and their starting positions at the beginning of the loop to the best of their combined knowledge.

It had been a painstaking endeavor to put it all together, and likely even more of a headache for the unfortunate Parthus Edrosic who’d had to draw it, but the end result was the most intricate and detailed chart of relevant information Orodan had ever seen. Hells, he was almost sad that a loop reset would cause this piece of art to vanish.

“Now then. With Lonvoron liberated, the invaders from Narictus driven off and our new friends of the Unity here, we may move onto more important matters. We’ve established that all of us are in the time loops now and I’m certain many of you have run anti-illusion checks and used plenty of devices and scans to verify that there is no mind control at play here. We are all in the time loops now. Does anyone disagree?”

Not a peep came out of anyone at that question.

After slaying the Prophet in this loop, they had returned to Alastaia and had to rebuff the advance party from Narictus who sought to kidnap Old Man Hannegan. Just as Orodan himself had been subject to long ago, the old man’s new Celestial skill drew attention right from the start of each loop. And although it only caused Quests to be issued from Narictus and X2 for now, he had n doubt that the scope of it would increase as the skill grew in power.

It was something Orodan had not fully experienced himself since most of his skill growth had come over the course of a very long loop at the end of which his System had been destroyed. But, unlike himself, the old man would not have to bear these kidnapping attempts alone. For Orodan would ensure that none dared kidnap his favorite foreman.

Still, the invaders came with benefits. Those being the machine beings of X2, and in particular… W78.

His metallic friend still had a very slight dent in its frame from a crushing hug Orodan delivered prior. The exploration unit—for that was W78’s designation among its people—didn’t remember him, but was glad to accept any branch of friendship. It and its faction were more interested in forming an alliance with the Alastaians, and now that the time loops had been explained to them, wanted to offer their assistance in exchange for bringing key units into the loops.

And while adding more to the loops would require another high-stakes venture right into the bowels of the System so that he could directly interact with the time loop mechanism… it didn’t stop him from using Fenton’s newly revamped one-hundred slot memory orb here and now.

The silence of collective ponderance overtook the gathering. One broken by Balastion Novar.

“Time loops aside, I have no doubt that the Hegemony themselves will intervene and make contact with us soon enough. The advance party from Narictus, bearing a Quest from their world core, was devious and attempted to kidnap our Celestial foreman without alerting the wider Hegemony. Greed compelled them to try and secure an asset for themselves. Yet now that their Transcendent has been slain the vampires will certainly inform the rest of their faction. We can expect an assault in force soon. And with them now missing a Transcendent we will not be ambushing and capturing any divinities either. The element of surprise is lost and they will take us very seriously.”

“And how does our favorite supervisor fare? I notice a glaring lack of his presence at this meeting,” Eldarion pointed out. “One would expect a Celestial skill bearer to be present when the discussion centers around him.”

“That would be my doing,” Adeltaj said. “Gregory dislikes political gatherings as much as I do and requested he be allowed to do something productive instead. He’s aboard the Collective’s fleets helping them patch some things up as we speak.”

“Indeed. Our engineers have never been roused to greater heights,” King Alstatyn Von Flemethy praised. “Fleet efficiency has already seen a notable improvement.”

As had the old man skills levels throughout the process, he was sure. Orodan had yet to see him this loop, but they had much to talk about.

But… what gathering of diverse peoples was complete without bickering and petty squabbles?

In particular, between the half-dragons of the newly reformed Vylrystia and the dragons of Alastaia.

“Worry not, King Alstatyn. Your voidships shall have the finest warriors and aerial combatants in our star system guarding them,” spoke General Vaelrosaan of Vylrystia. “The dragon flights of Vylrystia under the leadership of our World-Queen shall-”

“The pure blooded can fill that role,” Eldramir, patriarch of the Novarrian Burning Ember dragonflight cut off, his tone disrespectful. “Our full-sized wings allow us far greater power in flight. Our mana reserves are also naturally higher, owing to the purity of our heritage.”

The dragon was not stupid. Speaking derogatarily of half-dragonkind on a world where they reigned supreme would lead to a very short life for it. And that was if Orodan didn’t rise to perceived insult to Zaessythra first. Still, the dragon’s tone and words hinted at purity as an excessively important concept; one which caused many of the half-dragon warriors and mages alongside Zaessythra herself to have their pupils narrow to slits.

The full-blooded dragon was upon one of the giant alcoves near the roof which led out to the sky, around him were other dragons on their own alcoves. Architectural remnants of a time when Vylrystia was ruled not by half-dragons but full-blooded ones.

Cyvrosdyr the Eternal Winter seemed to huff in acceptance of this manner of speech, although Orodan noted that Kultuanir of the Time Wind and the patriarch of the Sapphire Gale were not as enthused with the divisive manner of talk.

“Prove it then. Duel me in the air and we shall see who rules the sky, dragon lord,” Zaessythra boldly spoke, issuing an open challenge as her hand rested upon the hilt of her greatsword, ready to fight on the spot.

Of course, the dragon was no fool and backed down quickly, simply acceding to her power. But the fact that it had muttered such talk in the first place had even Orodan—who was normally uncaring of such undercurrents—recognizing the underlying hostility between the two groups. Dragons and half-dragons.

A tense dynamic to manage when both parties were in a time loop.

It was furthe compounded by the spider dragons—who were hanging off the ceiling of the throne room—agreeing with and hissing in approval of Zaessythra’s bold challenge.

Eldarion and Adeltaj met his eyes, understanding his concerns without the need for words. He was not alone. Orodan held faith in this alliance. There were more people than just he, and they could handle these internal schisms.

And in particular, beings which couldn’t exactly be called people. Or singular beings for that matter.

The world crown on Orodan’s arm glowed. A permanent addition to the loops, ensuring that he started each time with the rulership of Alastaia tied to him.

Last loop he had tried plenty of times to give it away, but nobody had wanted it. And the spirit of the world itself seemed most content with the idea of him being its ruler. Thus, to avoid the hassle of anyone else disliking the position and wanting it gone later, for now, Orodan had made it a permanent part of the loops.

Which included that of Vylrystia’s crown on Zaessythra’s brow as well.

Both implements glowed, with the two world spirits having returned in time with them.

“We are saddened to see our children fighting with one another. Especially when the cosmos is vast and our enemies are plentiful. Eldramir, hatchling of Gosdronir’s brood and grandchild of Hivremir… would your ancestors not weep to see those of dragon blood squabbling amongst one another when all your clutches are threatened?”

“A-Alastaia…” the Burning Ember’s patriarch stuttered, quite uncharacteristic of a dragon.

“And you, Cyvrosdyr. Do not think we cannot see your thoughts as well. Your disdain for half-bloods is apparent. It is… unbecoming of a guardian of ours. Do you serve your own interests or that of the world first?”

“F-forgive me… will of the world… I have been dishonorable and conducted myself in a manner most disreputable…” the wintry World-Guardian spoke.

Following that, it was the world will of Vylrystia which spoke up.

“This should doubly be remembered for the children of Vylrystia. Long have you faced tyranny at the hands of blood purists. Long have we had to witness their atrocities and the bloody war of liberation from their claws which followed… but do not allow the past to draw you into further bloodshed over the future. Address wrongs where they may arise, but do not hold the crimes of one’s ancestors against them.”

The gentle reminder from the world will of Vylrystia mollified the deathly hostility many of the half-dragon guards were showing towards the group of dragons. Not all the dragons of Alastaia held negative opinions or prejudices towards half-dragons. This wisdom seemed to spread through the assembled residents of this world now.

“Removing individuals from the time loops is not a simple matter, but through the power of Orodan Wainwright, it can be done. But it would be most… unpleasant… if we had to be thrown through a rift and brought crashing against an alien mechanism once more.”

Through a rift and… an alien mechanism?

It was then that Orodan realized that since he had brought both Alastaia and Vylrystia along for the time loops this naturally meant that Zaessythra’s world spirit very much remembered how he had brought the entire planet through a dimensional rift and into the bowels of the System.

The crown on the World-Queen’s brow was very still.

And Orodan could only look away in shame as he could swear it was staring a hole through him for putting it through what he had.

“Thank you for your wise words of counsel, world spirits. Together, we are stronger. And in heeding the words of the world wills and working in tandem, we can strengthen our worlds against attack more than if we simply commanded the cores as though they were our servants. This also goes for the wisdom trees of Aldenil who are exceedingly old and the world cores of Lonvoron and Thazrivin. We must bring all of them into the fold as soon as possible,” Tegin Carrotfoot added, causing the mage-lords and elves to nod their heads in pleased approval that the input of their elder beings was being considered seriously. “Mister Penny.”

“Most of us are part of the loops, but not all. The world cores of Alastaia and Vylrystia have come along, as have all our alliance members and the wisdom trees. But Lonvoron’s world core and that of Thazrivin yet remain outside the loops’ reach. As do our friends from the Unity.”

“Information: proto-exploration unit tasked with securing alliance. Secondary directive” inclusion into phenomenon - time loops,” W78 beeped out.

Fenton frowned for a moment before nodding.

“The hundred-slot orb I handed Mister Orodan will work for now… but with some time and a few hands from the lot of you, I reckon I can whip up somethin’ even better. Even a few thousand slots ain’t out of the realm of possibility.”

“Excellent. Then that will be one of our prime areas of focus. To that end I recommend directing the forces of the Magocracy in particular to helping Fenton Penny with the building of such a device.,” Zaessythra added, her eyes looking as though she was working through dozens of tactical scenarios in her head. “The mage lords have an arcane affinity and an acumen for magic which I do not think you’ve fully explored, young Fenton. You’ve perused the enchanting techniques of Alastaia and your own world, but with their aid… and that of Vylrystia’s, we can accelerate your development.”

“And have yet another Celestial skill bearer among us,” Orodan added jokingly.

Although once all eyes fell on him followed by a series of nods he realized that it was very much not a joke.

“Indeed. Mister Edrosic’s diagram says as much,” Tegin added, pointing to a particular section. “We have multiple Grandmasters and even a peak-Transcendent or two marked out for potential advancement to the next level, but Mister Penny and Mister Edrosic in particular are the two individuals we all unanimously agree have the best chance of acquiring a Celestial-rarity skill.”

“Unanimously agree?” Orodan asked. “You’ve been studying them?”

“Of course we have,” Balastion spoke up. “The two of them are the cream of our worlds, the finest talents Lonvoron and Alastaia have seen in a skill. Aside from the reliable Gregory Hannegan whose acquisition of a Celestial skill surprised us all, these two are regularly studied. With so many worlds as part of our alliance who are better at intelligence-gathering than we are, I’ve seen fit to repurpose the Novarrian Intelligence Service to studying and putting together dossiers on all our alliance’s Transcendents. Parthus Edrosic and Fenton Penny, alongside your other disciples, have intelligence teams monitoring their training progress at all times that we might establish patterns and develop the best schedules possible. I would also like to assign a team to you, although your travels are too distant and sporadic for them to keep up with.”

The hells? Live teams of intelligence agents monitoring his every step?

“Do not look so surprised, Orodan,” Adeltaj assuaged. “When I used to train and coach aspiring young fighters for the Inter-Academy Tournament this was entirely normal. Their every move was scrutinized and the competition was rather cutthroat. Every minute of every hour of every day would be carefully planned out. It’s not as though they’re peeking in on what you do while in bed.”

“Indeed. To give an example, our agents have been reviewing scrying eye orb footage from atop Mount Castarian and noticed you took a far longer than normal time to exit your hovel this loop. Is there any reason for that? Quite inefficient,” Balastion chastised.

Orodan knew exactly why it had taken longer than normal, as did Zaessythra. And against the poor woman’s wishes, Almyra did too.

“There is no need to dwell on such things,” Almyra cut off, her voice a little too quick and her cheeks pink with secondhand embarrassment. “What truly matters is that you, Orodan Wainwright, are the prime combat asset of our alliance. Investing in your development is the natural course of action. You have repeated multiple times now that you prefer to fight your battles alone, and this we shall not begrudge you. But just because you fight alone does not mean you need to prepare alone. The Magocracy, the Blackworth Collective, Alastaia and now Vylrystia stand ready to pour previously exotic but now renewable resources and artifacts into your development. You… have accomplished in a hundredth of the time what I could not. Your work ethic is inhuman and your potential unfathomable. With just assistance from the Magocracy you can now slay an Administrator in a fair fight. Imagine what heights you could reach with the assistance of us all?”

Various people around the throne room were looking at him as though he was a prized piece of meat. Particularly among the senior sorts who looked as though they were interested in teaching.

“My tower on Thazrivin specializes in lightning magic. Well beyond what the university can teach you. Let mage-lord Akarin Uthoryn take you under his wing, Embodier!”

“No mortal mage can compare to the elemental lords of lightning. This-One-Who-Electrifies-Horizons shall arrange for elemental overlords to tutor the lightning bringer.”

“You all forget that lord Orodan Wainwright comes from Alastaia itself! He is a warrior’s warrior through and through! If he can do so much with just sword and shield then imagine what he could do with some armor and more basic martial skills added to his skillset?” an armored Alastaian Grandmaster insisted.

“Armor? With ser Wainwright’s sturdy frame our corps of engineers could see him fitted in enchanted steam-powered armor which adds to his strength!” Clyburn Anderthorn spoke up.

“Fools! He has spent so long learning to fight like a man that perhaps it is time he learned how to fight like a dragon!” Kultuanir proudly declared.

“And who better to teach a man how to blend draconic techniques with his human frame than us half-breeds?” General Vaelrosaan of Vylrystia insisted.

“Information: subject - Orodan Wainwright, requires combat rating increase. Solution: training in Memetic Hazard Mastery. Positive synergy with subject’s existing parameter - willpower,” W78 intoned.

The entire hall devolved into competing bids for what they saw as the honor of training him. Orodan discarded certain suggestions such as steam-powered armor or armor itself, at least to wear. He could still study it and the techniques behind it. He also saw this jockeying for teaching him as being a bit much. But stupid as it seemed, he could see the rationale for these teachers wanting to elevate their techniques and prestige by seeing him take their passed on abilities to his scale of combat.

“The High Forges of Karilsgard would be honored to provide your sword and shield once again, my lord,” a Grandmaster blacksmith offered. “They were quite effective in battle against your foes were they not? Proof that Alastaian blacksmithing, particularly from the Republic’s High Forges, is best when seeking armaments of war.”

Orodan did have to admit that his weapons had helped when fighting Kharadun Voidfortress and the Prophet. But the comment from the Republic’s blacksmith brought forth many more protesting counterarguments from Vylrystia’s dragon smiths and the Magocracy’s arcane forgers who were determined to prove that their craft was just as good if not better.

For at least ten more minutes a diverse array of people and beings stammered and argued over how they were best suited to amplifying his combat power by teaching him some esoteric skill which would synergize well with his raw might, or how their special trinket or weapon would turn the tide and have him beating even the Boundless One in a straight melee.

Tegin Carrotfoot seemed to allow this discussion, and Orodan could see how it was important that all these people who had just become loopers feel involved and valued in the alliance’s direction and state of affairs. It was a good way for non-combat loopers who were crafting specialists to feel valued, and for those who weren’t quite as good at fighting but had special techniques or skills to teach that they hadn’t been able to elevate to their full potential themselves.

He had not forgotten his roots. He came from the Volarbury county militia and his basic Sword Mastery and Shield Mastery had taken him very far. He was not above learning tricks, techniques and obscure skills from even the humblest of places. After all, some of his mightiest gains had come from the lowest of the low.

The gathering also discussed their next steps in regards to strengthening themselves, but also in regards to which Administrators to be wary of, which factions to target and the lot of it.

Which had Zaessythra coming to one conclusion.

“For too long has our alliance been on the defense. For many loops has Orodan fought to defend Alastaia. And last loop we fought the Hegemony in this star system as well… but I for one, have had enough. I believe… it is time to take the fight to them.”

Silence met her declaration.

A silence which was followed by nods, hums of approval and then murmurs of assent. Alastaia, Vylrystia, Thazrivin, the Unity and the Blackworth Collective were ready for war.

And Zaessythra simply slammed a dagger down onto the sector of their galaxy which housed Narictus in particular.

At last, the meeting came to a close as Tegin had some final announcements to make.

“Remember everyone, the newly formed department of looper affairs will be headed by Lord Eldarion! Any matters involving mental burnout, requests for time off and more can go through your respective leaders.”

“And the co-head is the wise and most organized Tegin Carrotfoot of course,” Eldarion added with a smile.

“Yes… of course…” the poor halfling muttered, dejected. “There goes my dream of a nice vacation reading books for the rest of my days… I don’t suppose I can approve my own time off, can I?”

With that concluded and the unfortunate Lieutenant-General’s spirits crushed, the gathering finally dispersed. Slowly but surely everyone filed out of the grand throne room of Vyrathul. At one point, even the guards began to leave, which Orodan found exceedingly odd.

It was only when he noticed Alstatyn, Almyra and Zaessythra were the only ones left alongside himself that he understood what was going on.

An empty throne room, save for the four of them.

Four which then became two as the King of the Collective gave Orodan an insufferable grin followed by a wink and departed with Almyra swooped up into his arms.

It was just them now.

Him and the one who had given so much for him.

“You shouldn’t have-”

How idiotically stupid. Like two schoolchildren talking over one another. A fantastic show of grace for their first words to one another since the proclamation.

Orodan let out an amused sigh and gestured for her to go first.

“I did not mean to pressure you.”

“You did not… I was just taken aback,” he replied.

Logically, it was the silliest feeling he had ever felt across his loops. They had shared a kiss, fought together, bled together and died together. She had anchored him when he was at risk of falling to that madness. He had restored her to life and brought her out of that darkness of memory loss and destruction of self she was mired in within a vault.

And despite all of that, Orodan now felt a most strange weight to his chest and his tongue was having a difficult time getting words out.

How utterly illogical.

But that raw vulnerability in her question had him stepping forward, powering past all of that.

“I simply feel that you should not have. Such a proclamation of your intent towards me of all people? I haven’t read a book on courtship in all my loops.”

She smiled, much of that uncertainty in her mismatched white and gold eyes clearing up at his reply.

“I know… which was exactly why I did it. I simply needed to know your answer, Orodan. I do not play with half-certainties or games of guesswork when it comes to the object of my affections,” she replied.

He’d known it when resurrecting her for the very first time long ago, and he’d experienced some of it until Almyra interrupted them at the start of this loop… but it was only now, very close and face-to-face that he realized the difference between his near seven feet and her ten.

Not that it changed the way either of them looked at one another.

“This will not end with me in some palace living the royal life alongside you Zaessythra… I hope you understand that,” he cautioned.

“And this won’t end with me leaving without you Orodan. I hope you understand that,” she said.

“Are you sure about this? This consort-to-be business is rather official. I feel like I saw a half-dragon or two glare my way before quickly cowering away,” Orodan said as he stepped closer.

“And they may continue to glare away for none catch my eye the way you do.”

…he had been through too much alongside her not to give her his answer.

“For all the deaths and exotic sorts of pain I’ve been through I’ve never quite felt this way. You make me feel strange things.”

“And what might that be?”

And he recalled the final words of someone flashing through his mind as he stepped forward to deliver it.

“And do tell that special someone you love them. Life is far too short not to.”

The morning came swiftly. Time had a tendency to pass rather quick when one was enjoying themselves.

But with it came the ever-present work.

Work to prepare the defenses of the Alastaian alliance.

Work to scope out one of the enemy’s bases of power upon Narictus.

And the ever-present work of stubbornly skill grinding in a time loop.