FINAL CORE - Chapter 95 (Patreon)

Chapter 86 - Pre chapter note

The fate of heroes is a topic that is often not discussed in the grand stories that we tell of them. Roughly a third of all recorded crises have resulted in the need for a true hero to be summoned from another world, or for one to ascend from within our own, in order to provide direct intervention and to save us from the darkness of calamity.

However, once the crisis has been destroyed and these heroes have served through their finest hour, little awaits them in the future. Many have spent their entire ‘new’ lives in our world hounding after an enemy, yet what happens to the pursuer when the hunt is finally over?

What does a hero do when the threat is no more?

We don’t talk about it.

Most often, they will simply vanish into obscurity. They live out their lives as quiet celebrities, entirely unknown to the newer generations who were born after the end of their mission, their heyday perhaps having been decades ago. The old might remember them, and they receive token allowances and live as nobles in their own right. But the young ignore them, as they would ignore the actors and musicians of their parents’ day and soon, once the threat is gone and the crisis is over, so is the love for the hero.

Them being pivotal to our continued existence is quickly forgotten and what good is a once hero who now has no cause?

Often, these creatures will lose their will to go on and either fall back into the same despair that had plagued them before traveling to our world or they will find a new mission, such as charity. But it simply never has the same bite that it once had when they were young and full of purpose, and it shows.

Of those true heroes who survived their final battle with their crisis, none have succeeded in creating a lasting, multi-generational legacy. Not one.

It is the cruelest irony of the world and the gods, perhaps.

Heroes are disposable.

~ Top ten reasons you should enlist into your local guard regiment!

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Chapter 95

What do the stars know?

It may seem like an absurd, esoteric question. But that is because you are basing yourself in the gritty, solid logic of rationality. In a time before the church, in a time before cities and towns, in a time before fire, man worshiped the sky.

The people of that long distant world made offerings to the sun and they danced in the moonlight and they laid eyes upon the endless number of stars that fill the sky, staying keenly aware that they were staring down onto them as would a hungry spider.

However, that age is now long since passed and we find ourselves in an era of reason and technology. The gods are said to have come and gone and we are left now by ourselves in this garden of paradise.

But the sun is still in the sky.

The moon still floats through the night.

And the stars are still watching us, as they have always been doing. You may think that they are simply a romantic sight. But, in much the same way as we romanticize the howl of a wolf in the dead of the night — It will stop being romantic when you are alone with it in the darkness.

The question is not why the stars are watching us, the question is what they’re waiting for. They are a wolf that has already howled. The strike is prepared, yet it never seems to come.

And so, we as a people live in a constant tension, that must lead us to ask one thing.

- What do the stars know?

Why are they so afraid, these ancient, cosmic deities of the old-world? What could possibly be down here in our world that keeps them at bay?

~ An old witch’s ramblings on the old-gods and the night sky

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Isaiah

[Dungeon]

Floor {130}

The Fey-Gate

The spirit-world is more than simply the afterlife. It is also used by other creatures, such as the fey, as a place to primarily reside in. Exiting only through rare portals in the surface world, they mostly prefer to stay on their side of reality, inside of the Fey-kingdom.

Fey are not particularly fond of any of the common, living races. While in old times, any who stumbled into their realm by mistake would have been harshly punished, currently, Fey will now only cast intruders back out of their realm with little more than a slap on the wrist.

This does not mean, however, that they will not fiercely guard their few, rare, large gates to the real world.

Room Effect: The presence of the fairy-realm will flood the chamber with fairies upon intrusion. These are not considered monsters of the tower and will continue spawning in great numbers until the boss is defeated.

[Fey-Gate Guardian]💀

• Class: DIVINE BEING
• Element: HOLY / NATURE
• Type: WARD
• Rank: SSS
• Level: 100
• Category: CONNECTED GUARDIAN*
• HP: 875/875
• SOUL: ∞/∞

*As long as the primary energy source of this entity remains standing, it will continuously regenerate itself at a rapid pace.

The Fey-Gate Guardian is an elite member of fairy society, entrusted with protecting one of the few remaining Fey-gates scattered across the world. They are extremely well versed in the wild-magics of the world and are able to cast spells from old, forgotten schools of magic.

Isaiah looks around the chamber of the tower. The room is akin to a strange grotto. It is as if they were in a cave-system, beneath a forest. Water runs down the crooked stones and roots push in from all around, grabbing hold of rectangular, stone-hewn frames as if they were hands holding them aloft. Inside of these frames, magic glows alight.

Small creatures, fey, fly in and out of the stones, buzzing across from one shortcut to another as they use the little doors to traverse a place that is actually somewhere else entirely.

Its gaze wanders to the particularly large fairy, standing guard before the largest, human-sized door.

Isaiah tilts its head, observing the odd creature. It looks like a tiny human had merged with a particularly large moth. It reminds it of the Vildt, the half-animal species it had seen on the other continent, but these creatures seem more magical and less physical in their makings.

“You have nice wings,” says Isaiah, looking at the creature with soft, feathery moth wings. Very interesting. It has never seen anything like it before.

However, the fairy guardian, apparently a stoic professional, says nothing in response.

Very interesting.

Isaiah isn’t quite sure itself if it has barged in someone's home with this floor. Apparently it has, considering it has connected to the fey kingdom, whatever that means. It seems fine, though. They seem to be disinterested and fairly reserved. It turns its head to watch smaller groups of the fey shoot through the little doors, flying, as if they were schools of fish.

Fey society seems to be very chaotic.

“I’ll leave it to you,” remarks Isaiah, lifting a hand and walking off.

It will have to watch closely when the humans arrive here. It could be very interesting indeed.

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Seide

Dryad, Female, Wood-mother

Location: The Sub-Tower, Floor -99

Seide wanders the grounds of the sub-tower, the trunk that connects the tree of Isaiah to the sky. It’s a very interesting opportunity that has been given to her and her tribe. A year ago, she would have been abhorred at the concept, but times have changed and so has she. She’s learned a lot about horror, the kind that transcends the natural world and it has given her a bit of a change in perspective.

In the wild, creatures die. They get hunted and eaten, sometimes this process is slow and gruesome. A bear will never intentionally kill its prey before consumption, nor will wolves. They’ll eat it while it’s still alive, drag it back to their dens while its still alive and eat it over the course of days there then, while it’s still alive. Sometimes the prey gets lucky and dies quickly, but this is simply not always the case.

It’s cruel, but this is how nature simply is.

But now that she herself has undergone that process, even as a dryad, a spirit of nature, she finds that she does not enjoy the idea of allowing anyone else to undergo this cruelty, let alone her own.

The governance of the sub-tower has been given to her. Isaiah will still control the structure, but she has been asked to oversee her goblins, who have begun setting up a new village here inside of the tower and also all of the pilgrims who are to come. Residency for them will be found here, in this structure and, critically, the generous ‘mercy’ spell that prevents death will be applied to everyone.

— The wind graces her hair, which is an odd thing to consider, since they’re inside.

Seide looks at the goblins, running around a lush, green field and hammering away on wooden structures, planting thick brambles and vines into the soil as shelter. It’s a more beautiful, kind forest than hers ever was and in a way, that does make her a little jealous.

However, she thinks that if she stays here, maybe she can come to learn how to nurture like this too.

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Cardinal Erzael of the West

Human, Male, Cardinal

Location: The Western Mountain City

The man flaps through his tome, searching for an answer to his question. How does one fight back against a foe that is massively more powerful than oneself?

He firmly believes that Isaiah is a messenger from the heavens, but how steadfast can a messenger remain against the tides of men’s bodies marching its way? What if this is a test from the gods? What if either the acceptance or destruction of Isaiah is the answer to a cosmic question being asked of them as a whole.

Like ogres, trampling through a garden, are they being observed to see if they will crush the gentle flowers around them or not?

Why else would the gods return so brazenly, so obviously, after generations of silence?

Cardinal Schweig will be making his move with his crusade, as will the Witch, Perchta, by unleashing whatever hell she has to unleash.

He flips a page, looking.

“Anything?” asks Erzael, lifting his gaze to look at his quiet colleague from the south. The other cardinal shakes his head and the two of them return to their research in his private library.

He flips a page.

“Your grace, what about this?” asks a voice from the side, his personal assistant. Cardinal Erzael lifts his gaze to the book that she’s carrying over, despite it being several times her size.

She’s a fairy. They were once a common race, like any of the others. But over generations, after the gradual decline of the world’s ambient magics, they are now only able to survive in rare high-magic zones. One of these is the mountain in the west of the nation.

The fairy drops it to the table, sighing in exhaustion as she wipes off her forehead.

Erzael looks at the book, reading the title.

“A tome of heroes,” he mutters, his fingers tapping against the table. It’s an interesting idea. They’re clearly the underdogs here, his faction of humanity. He doesn't know how strong Isaiah is, but he does know how strong a witch is and how strong Cardinal Schweig is. A hero, a true hero, could only be summoned in however if there was a crisis. It would certainly swing things in their favor, but…

He shakes his head.

“Thank you for the idea,” says Erzael. “But we don’t have a crisis. The spell only works then,” he remarks.

The fairy lands on the book, looking up his way. She taps her head. “Then why don’t we just make one ourselves?” she asks, winking.

Cardinal Erzael looks at her, before turning to look at his colleague.

This would be an unprecedented step. It would be a grave misuse of the gift the gods had left them as a people, wouldn’t it?

Yes, the one-hundred year crisis is about due, actually. It should be this year, but so far, nothing has happened. There hasn’t been a whiff of a demon-king or some great plague or anything more than this war here that is festering in the bosom of the world.

But this is the challenge offered to them by the divine.

Perhaps they are watching to see how their children will react when a time of tribulation arrives that they are not diligently warned about. Perhaps they are observing to see how they have grown and if they are ready to face the world alone, without supervision.

His college nods.

Erzael nods back.

“Brother, let us pray,” he says, lowering his head. “A dark season has fallen over us,” he remarks, gently opening the book. The fairy flies off.

A hero…

His eyes scour the page.

A true-hero.

Is the world really ready for this again?

He sighs.

What a mess.