“I am Margrave Rüdiger vom Erlenwald. On whose authority do you dare order me around?”
The young man’s head jerked side to side, stammering, before he collapsed to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor.
“Honored Margrave, I express my deepest regrets and apologize for my behavior. I wasn't aware that the leader of the Order had survived... everyone else.”
He swallowed hard.
Rüdiger nodded. “Ja, ja.” He looked around at the crowd—several dozen necromancers in green. “We had our losses, but I...” His voice caught for a moment. Then, softer: “Ja. We remain. Barely.”
The herold swallowed, but soon found his voice again. “Very well. If the Honored Margrave of the Order of the Invisible Hand would oblige Archbishop Leman Mettig with his presence...”
“As I said,” Rüdiger asked, standing in the middle of the circle of necromancers forming around him, “do you have anything on the general situation?”
The young man swallowed his words. “So far, we’ve only contacted Fionnel’s Council, the Sunbanner Knights, the Crusade Corps troops, and”—he sneered—“Olivist units.”
Rüdiger nodded. “Ah yes, my good friends, the Olivists. Express my warmest regards once you’re back at their quarters.”
He turned, ignoring the outraged expression on the young man's face. “So. A delegation.”
Rüdiger steepled his hands and looked around. His gaze lingered on Liora and Adarin, then settled on the steely-haired woman he had spoken to earlier.
The elderly woman inclined her head, then wove a pattern in the air. Pink light spilled outward, forming a complex map on the ground in the center of the circle. Images in red, white, and blue flickered across the illusion—marking what Adarin intuitively recognized as enemies, allies, and unknowns.
Rüdiger gestured toward him. “If you may?”
The woman approached Adarin and inclined her head. “Sir Adarin, may I transmit the reconnaissance knowledge to you?”
It took him a moment to focus enough to respond. “Yes. Of course,” he answered, his voice still stiff.
Images flooded his mind.
He staggered internally. Not drone feeds—avian vision. Feathers, thermals, natural targeting systems. They’re using birds. Primitive—but effective. Fascinating.
Rüdiger’s voice cut in again. “Adarin, come up with a plan for deploying our troops while I organize the delegation. Ja?”
He gestured at Liora, then turned his back. The herald remained kneeling—forgotten, or deliberately ignored.
Adarin ran a storm of analysis protocols through his mind, projections and heuristics blooming across the battlefield in front of him—predictions, statistical overlays, best guesses for unit strength and combat value. None of the models fit perfectly, of course. They were designed for robotic mid-tech warfare, not whatever this pseudo-prim-tech nonsense was.
Still—movement, force projection, terrain utilization. The fundamentals hadn’t changed.
It took him twenty-seven seconds to build an effective battle plan.
Gesturing with his free limb, he sketched the layout across the magical map, explaining each deployment to the elderly woman, whose eyes widened with each word. She beckoned several other mages over, murmured to them, and sent them running, ready to execute the formation.
Adarin’s plan formed a defensive cordon to shield their position while the main force advanced toward the meeting point.
I don’t trust any of those so-called allies. Adarin scrambled over to Rüdiger. He groaned in annoyance as the man squatted down again.
I really need to figure out how to create a humanoid form for this body. If everyone keeps treating me like a dog, my social effectiveness is going to tank.
Rüdiger beamed at him. Liora smiled too—but unlike the older man’s grin, hers seemed genuinely warm.
“So,” Rüdiger drawled, “it seems everyone is quite impressed by your battle plan.”
Adarin shrugged. “A basic two-layered defense. I’ve concentrated our striking power around the meeting zone—it’s our most likely flashpoint.” He shrugged again, lifting his core in a weird imitation of a human gesture. “Given your... propensity for making friends, it seemed prudent to focus most of our combat power on our allies.”
Rüdiger laughed and slapped his thighs. “I see we’ll get along just fine, my dear friend from the past. Ja, ja.”
He looked into the distance for a moment, then turned back. “While everyone else prepares to leave, would you be so kind as to show me your status?”
“Status?” Adarin echoed.
Liora motioned behind Rüdiger, pointing to the ink-like eye on her arm.
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Adarin tilted his head. “How do I access it?”
Rüdiger pointed to one of his own limbs. “You simply focus your intention or touch onto the tattoo.”
Adarin rotated his wooden limb about ninety degrees, studying the pale-white wood mark on it. It looked almost like a scar.
How haven’t I noticed this before?
He touched it.
Text bloomed across his wooden skin.
Level 0 [F]
Class: Tactician, World Tree Guardian
Cog: 192 Mov: 125 Res: 174 Per: 133 Soc: 93
Implants:
- Limited Protocol Database (Virtual Machine, COG)
Lesser Tier 1
You have access to a restricted set of Imperial Mindware: data hounds, data weapons, and tactical analysis protocols.
Grow in power to unlock more capabilities. Reattempt interface with the hidden point at each tier. - Control Shard Generator (Virtual Machine, MOV)
Lesser Tier 1
Generates (Illusion Core Tier × 10) control shards, detachable from your core sphere.
The more shards you embed into a living wood construct, the more refined your control becomes. - Groveheart (Virtual Machine, RES)
Lesser Tier 1
Your Groveheart harmonizes you with nature, proportional to your Alteration Core.
Choose (Alteration Core Tier^2 + 2) woody plant species to form your groves.
You gain access to their abilities based on growth strength—and later, their echoes in your inner world. - Noospheric Link (Virtual Machine, PER)
Lesser Tier 1
Due to your connection with Entity [REFERENCE ERROR], you can link minds with individuals designated by it.
Communication range scales with the power of Entity [REFERENCE ERROR].
Spells:
- Living Wood
Alteration – Lesser Tier 1
Transform 2^Alteration Core Tier cubic centimeters of wood into Living Wood per minute.
Control up to 2^Alteration Core Tier cubic meters of Living Wood simultaneously. - Cornucopian Garden
Alteration – Lesser Tier 1
Grow a fruit tree that senses and extracts local soil resources.
You may shape it to yield specific fruits, limited by your alchemical knowledge.
Growth may be accelerated with focused will or proceed naturally at enhanced rates. - Thousand Eyes
Divination – Lesser Tier 1
Grow Divination Core Tier2 cubic decimeters of custom biological optical systems.
Vision limited to the optical spectrum. - Rootwhip
Conjuration – Lesser Tier 1
Conjure (5 × Conjuration Core Tier) Living Wood whips, each up to 5 + (Conjuration Core Tier)2 in length.
Lesser spirits inhabit the whips to provide basic autonomous function.
Adarin focused all his attention on Rüdiger as the man finished reading his status.
Rüdiger let out a low whistle. “Fascinating, fascinating. You certainly have something interesting there.”
He placed a hand on Adarin’s wooden leg, then touched Liora’s shoulder. She only flinched slightly.
“You two are a fascinating group. I can’t wait to introduce you to Devin and Gavin. You’ll love them.” Rüdiger smiled absently. “How fortunate I am to have found such a group. An elite force, ja, ja. A special force, indeed.”
Adarin nudged gently against Rüdiger’s hand, using his arm to push the man slightly off balance, just enough to slide his touch off Liora. She shot him a grateful smile.
Out of the corner of his eye, Adarin noticed the necromancers readying themselves.
Rüdiger glanced around. “Seems it’s time to leave, ja?”
The party exited the building. As they stepped into the open, Adarin noticed how many necromancers carried maps marked with his tactical signs.
He allowed himself a private smile.
Undead skeletons formed up a defensive cordon around them. Rüdiger floated upward, shimmering light spiraling around him as he activated some kind of shield.
Liora squatted next to Adarin.
“How are you doing?” she asked with a half-smile, then faltered. “I mean—can something like this body still feel emotions?”
Adarin snorted, then let out a sound vaguely like two logs clapping together—a crude approximation of laughter.
Liora stiffened instantly. “Did I—?”
“No, no,” Adarin said quickly. “I’m just figuring out how to speak properly. It'll take a few days, I believe. And I’m not a wooden creature. This is merely my body.”
The body’s crude—but it serves. Too many here forget that the mind is what shapes the weapon.
They began marching, zombies, skeletons, and necromancers forming a mobile wall around them. Adarin made idle conversation with Liora, though his attention drifted often to the edges of the formation.
There, skirmishes erupted with greenskins—mutated things with bark-like limbs and woody torsos.
Above it all, the pillars of green light still dominated the horizon.
As they closed in on what Adarin judged to be the meeting point—the one the nervous herald had been leading them toward—a commotion erupted at the front of the column.
Cries rang out. Adarin caught the rise in pitch and direction and followed the group's ascent toward the chaos.
And then—a familiar face emerged from the crowd.
“Johan.”
“Milord. Liora. Adarin. Archmagister vom Erlenwald wishes to speak with you.”
Liora straightened. “What is it, Johan?”
“There have been... there are dead. Injured—”
Before he finished, Liora shot off like a hare at the last word.
Adarin scrambled after her, followed by Johan and the hesitant herald.
They turned into a side alley, where the undead and necromancers parted before them like a living curtain.
What they revealed stopped Adarin cold.
Humans in heavy plate sprawled across the street, their armor punctured by arrows driven through faces, throats, and hearts—each corpse arranged like a grotesque warning.
Adarin walked the length of it slowly. They died charging a position...
Ahead, he spotted Liora kneeling beside a crumpled form—a creature with the distinct features of one of the sadistic elven master who had been offered as one of her mentors.
Three of the elves lay dead from sword wounds. Around them, five more armored humans in colorful heraldry lay lifeless.
One of the elves still clung to life, struggling to hold his guts in as he gasped for air.
Rüdiger landed hard next to them, cloak flaring out behind him.
“Schei?e...” Rüdiger’s voice dropped low as he took in the blood and banners. “They were allies. Important ones. This... this could start a war.”
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