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B4 Chapter 437: Beneath the Streets, pt. 2

  From a brick-and-stonework pipe in the wall opposite them, a spray of muck slopped into the river that ran through the centre of the sewer. It was disgusting — half foul liquid, half indescribable solids, and all rancid. As the deluge hit the river of muck, it kicked up a spray, and Kaius dashed forwards, avoiding the splatter.

  This place was rank. The pathways that lined the central sewer were just barely wide enough for Porkchop to walk on comfortably. Made of baked brick, they had grown shiny with slime and dank humidity.

  The entire experience was an affront to his senses — rotten sewage and aqueous urea burning his nose.

  Kenva gagged as she deftly hopped over yet another of the puddles that lined their path. “You know, when we were departing, I expected a glorious adventure of forgotten mysteries and unwalked tunnels deep in the darkness. I have to say this isn’t quite what I had in mind.”

  Kaius nodded his head emphatically, doing his best to breathe shallowly. The map had clearly shown they would be trekking through sewers, but he hadn’t had any idea that they would be active ones.

  Ahead of him, Porkchop whirled, turning back to face them. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, and Kaius could feel a nigh-tortured mania flowing across their bond. He understood. The scent of this place was torturous for him — a constant assault of disgust and acrid sensory pain. What must it have been like with a beast’s senses?

  “Kaius, give me your knife.”

  He stared up at his brother, uncomprehending. His knife? What the hells did he want with that? It wasn’t exactly a useful tool to them now—more a keepsake he used for cooking than anything else.

  “What?” he asked, voice muffled as he did his best to avoid letting any of that acrid air in through his nose.

  Porkchop’s hackles rose, a half-growl of desperation resonating in his chest. “Give. Me. The. Knife.”

  “Okay, okay!” Kaius said, holding up his hands in placation before reaching to his belt and drawing the hunting blade.

  A ghostly hand of mana snatched it from his grip. It whistled through the air, and Kaius’s eyes widened as the tip lined up with the middle of the bridge of Porkchop’s snout.

  “Wait!” he cried, lunging forwards, but he was too slow.

  Quick as a flash, Porkchop raised his paw and slammed it down on the knife’s pommel. Backed by brute strength, honed steel punched through hide and cartilage. Kaius heard a tortured screech from the blade. It was high quality and lightly enchanted, but Porkchop’s fur and growing endurance created no small measure of resistance. Blood welled up around the hilt, saturating Porkchop’s muzzle as his flesh writhed and sealed itself close to the steel.

  Porkchop immediately relaxed. “That is so much better,” he said, sighing in relief.

  “What in the ever-loving fuck, Porkchop?” Kenva said.

  Kaius just stared at his brother in disbelief. Yet he knew that Porkchop wasn’t lying. He could feel the twinges of pain through their bond, but that maddened discomfort was gone. It was extreme, but Kaius supposed he had cut off his ability to smell the foul air.

  Porkchop seemed content to ignore them, his normally chipper countenance returning. “So, what in all the hells is the Eternal Empire, anyway? I know we’ve looked at the threats, and you guys have mentioned that they seemingly have ruins everywhere, but I don’t really know any of their history.”

  It was a fair question — one that Kaius would be happy to know more of. Hells, everyone would. But precious few had good answers. Judging by the way Ianmus had perked up, however, they might be in for a bit of a story. He himself wasn’t much of an expert, but knowing only the basics: it was an empire that had existed for aeons, ruled by one so-called Eternal Emperor. And then it had vanished, taking it all with it.

  Planting his staff in a crook between bricks, Ianmus hopped over a trail of slime that seemed to leak from the very walls next to them. “They were a civilization that stretched from the icy northern wastes to somewhere far to the south. We’ve found ruins in the Drozags, and some of the few explorers who have tempted the hellish jungles beyond them have seen hints they existed there, but we don’t know their furthest reaches. They could have been to the very end of the continent.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Ahead of them, Porkchop’s ears perked up in curiosity. “That large? From the way you guys have talked about them, I sort of assumed it was a human civilization.”

  Kaius shook his head. “Not exactly. They encompassed everything in their lands—at least that’s what I’ve heard.”

  In numbers it had likely been human-dominated, but allegedly the signs of cohabitation were everywhere. Hells, he’d heard that they’d found gravesites where family units of men, elves, dwarves, and others had all been entombed together — something vanishingly rare in modern times.

  Kaius caught sight of Ianmus nodding.

  “Our knowledge is spotty due to the nature of our investigations,” Ianmus said. “The Empire was truly ancient, and most above-ground structures have been worn by time, looting, and monsters. We have found fragments, though — gravesites, art, even a few pieces of writing—though it’s scattered.”

  Pausing for a moment as he hopped over yet another puddle of unmentionable muck, Ianmus continued his explanation.

  “As far as we know, they dominated the continent for aeons, in totality, and with an almost impossible level of stability, seemingly due to their Emperor. Then, over the course of a few short years — maybe a decade — it completely collapsed roughly four thousand years ago. We don’t know why, other than that it seemed to coincide with a simultaneous upheaval that spread incredibly rapidly across the continent. We call it the Shattering because it plunged Vaastivar into a dark age of ignorance and poverty that lasted over fifteen-hundred years. In the two and a half millennia since that dark age, we still haven’t come close to some of their achievements in military might, artifice, magic, architecture, or understanding.”

  Porkchop grunted, seemingly ignoring the steady stream of blood that dripped from his muzzle. “Seems mighty suspicious that they managed to stay in control for Matriarchs know how long. Aeons is a long time. When were they founded?”

  Kaius himself didn’t actually know, only that, like Ianmus had said, it was for an incredibly long time.

  Kenva seemed to agree. “As far as I’m aware, no one knows.”

  Ianmus tilted his head side to side before he suddenly lunged forwards, in unison with the rest of them, as a pipe close to their feet started to gurgle ominously.

  Sighing as they made it out of the splash zone, and as another spray of sewerage exited the pipe a dozen long strides behind them, Ianmus continued his explanation. “While it’s true that we don’t know for sure, the oldest ruins we’ve found have been approximately dated to over nine thousand years ago with the most accurate scrying magic we have. But those were still advanced in their construction and, I might add, had an almost impossibly similar architectural style to what came later.”

  Kaius gaped at the timescale. Nine thousand years? That was insane.

  “How?” he asked.

  Ianmus just shrugged,”Who knows? They are enigmatic to this day. To control Vaastivar for such stretches, with such totality — what must it have been like? He could imagine towering spires of steel and light, inversions of the bunkers that were so often the only remainders of that time. Cities that dwarfed the scale and majesty of Mystral and the Dukedoms. Magic that made the elves look like bumbling hedge-witches—hells, the culture. What had their stories been, their plays?”

  Despite the refuse that surrounded him, Kaius couldn’t help the small feeling of melancholy that slipped over him at what must have been lost with the Shattering. So much knowledge, so many people.

  Whatever its hidden truths, it must have been a violent time for so many cities to have been sundered utterly. Time couldn’t explain the lack of above-ground ruins—not with how persistent the civilisation’s bunkers were. They had the technology and magic to stand the test of aeons.

  He wasn’t the only one shaken by the revelation.

  “What?” Kenva cried. “But the Eternal Emperor was supposed to be their ruler for the entire time! Even if vitality and progressing through the tiers increase your lifespan, to live that long would be insane.”

  Ianmus nodded. “It truly is, though academics will argue till the end of days whether the Emperor was actually some classer of immense power who had stretched his life for uncountable years, or if it was simply a single dynasty whose leader mantled the title of Eternal Emperor. Regardless, either the Emperor died of old age or violence, or disappeared for some other reason, or someone weak and incapable took the throne. That power vacuum likely caused the decay of their Empire. That, or the Emperor themselves was somehow directly involved in its destruction. It was all so long ago that it’s almost impossible to deduce from the little we’ve found. For a civilisation so advanced, they weren’t exactly fond of books. We have very little evidence in the written word.”

  Kaius frowned. That was bizarre. Frankly, it only fuelled his hunger to reach the Imperial ruins they were going to explore, all the more. Who knows—if it was a fresh and undiscovered one, they might just be the ones lucky enough to find out some secrets about its ancient history.

  Regardless, he didn’t need burning curiosity to want to get out of the stench of the sewers as quickly as possible. As a group, they hurried onwards until Kenva suddenly pointed her finger down a passageway. It was narrower than the rest of the sewers, lacking any of the constantly present muck they had seen so far. Plus, with Kaius’s darkvision, he could see that it gradually descended deeper into the earth.

  “There. That’s our entrance to the lower catacombs. Let’s go,” Kenva said, leaping over the running river of sewage to cross to the other side of the tunnel.

  As a singular unit, they all hurried after her, desperate to escape the smell.

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