Death: Genesis

“Relax,” said Eveline. “It’s going great.”

To Zeke, that didn’t seem to be the case. Certainly, from a purely strategic perspective, the battle for Wealton had progressed according to their meticulous plan. The various cohorts of kobolds had swept in from three different directions, forcing the enemy to split their focus. Meanwhile, another contingent of the versatile former monsters had dug a series of tunnels far beneath the walls, surfacing within the city itself. That provided an entry point for the beastkin, who’d immediately begun to take their long-held frustrations out on their former masters.

Casualties had been high among the beastkin, but they hated the people Adontis so much that they’d insisted on taking those losses, so long as they got first crack at their oppressors.

The centaurs, meanwhile, were busy harassing enemy supply lines. Some of Adontis’ supplies were transported by air, where they held a distinct superiority. However, airships were rare and expensive enough that the bulk of their resources had to be transported on the ground. Those were vulnerable to the swift and powerful centaurs. The Mistress of the Herd had those tactics well in hand, and though they often took casualties as well, she was willing to make that trade-off.

That was what Zeke had trouble with.

He knew that taking Wealton was necessary. He also recognized that doing so had, from a purely strategic standpoint, gone as well as possible. Yet, he longed to be down there protecting his people instead of on a nearby hill and watching them die.

“You know this is necessary for their development. You won’t always be there for them, so they need to get used to fighting without the benefit of your domains,” she said.

From a purely rational point of view, Zeke agreed. The acquisition of his twin domains had been a turning point for the kobolds, and with those augmenting their own strengths while weakening their opponents, the effect was as predictable as it was magnificent. So long as Zeke was around, they were nearly unstoppable – against the Knights of Adontis, at least, who had proven to be a much less organized and powerful opponent than anyone had expected. Yet, it also exacerbated a different problem in that the kobolds had begun to lean on Zeke’s power even more noticeably.

And without him, despite the levels they’d gotten, they weren’t nearly as powerful as they should have been. That was an issue that had to be addressed, and Zeke had chosen to do so by withholding himself from the fight. It was a frustrating course, but it was also the only way the kobolds would ever learn to flourish without him standing over them.

So, not only did Zeke feel the sting of watching his chosen people die unnecessarily, he also couldn’t take his frustrations out on his enemies. And on top of that, his progression had begun to stagnate as well. Certainly, despite killing an unprecedented number of enemies over the course of the war, his progress in terms of levels was glacial. But at least he’d been making some headway. Now, though, his course had ground to a halt, leaving him with only secondary progression to tide him over.

“It’s not all about you,” Eveline said. “If you were only worried about yourself, you could implement sacrifices. I’m sure the kobolds would line up to give themselves over to their Ak-Toh. I knew an archdemon once who did that. He would raise his people like cattle, feeding them kill energy, then choose the strongest to be sacrificed. He had a whole nation funneling kill energy to him.

“The funny thing is that he gave them a choice. They could fight him in an arena, and if they won, they would become the new emperor. Or, they could give themselves willingly. Almost all of them chose the latter,” she explained.

“Why?”

“Manipulation. Brainwashing. They were taught to believe that sacrificed themselves would follow him when he descended to the next circle of Hell. Their whole religion centered on this collectivist mentality that was based on the transfer of energy,” she answered. “They thought that what you keep stubbornly referring to as experience was, in fact, their soul. And when it was absorbed by the archdemon, their souls lived on and would be resurrected when he reached the last circle. Then, they would become a grand army to sweep through the heavens, consuming everything and elevating the arch demon above the Framework and its architect.”

“Is that even possible?”

“They believed. That was all that mattered.”

“What happened to the archdemon?” Zeke asked.

“I actually don’t know. He was still going strong the last I remembered. Of course, that was a thousand years ago. I think. My time as a splintered soul gets a little fuzzy,” she admitted. “I expect he’s already descended, though. He had already reached the pinnacle, even back then. He was actually a fairly nice guy, all told. A brutal killer, obviously. But everyone who achieves anything in this world is. He treated his people well, though. Gave them opportunities most wouldn’t dare. He once told me that every day, he prayed to whatever gods existed that someone would take up his challenge and defeat him.

“What was his name?” Zeke asked.

“Malaketh.”

Zeke nodded, committing that name to memory. Demons were far more complex creatures than he’d once been led to believe. At the end of the day, they were still just people. Damaged people, sure, but people all the same.

“Don’t let that cloud your judgement. Most of us are evil. We deserve the reborn lives we were given.”

“I guess,” Zeke said. Though, he inwardly wondered if anyone whose past deeds were so egregious that they deserved to be tortured so thoroughly that their very natures changed. When was the punishment enough? And when did it exceed the bounds of justice and veer into pure sadism?

“Justice has never been the goal. It’s just the excuse,” Eveline said.

She’d stated the same many times, though she seemed to have a bit of a conflicted view of her fellow demons. Often, she described them as evil, but she still felt that she – and all the other demons – had been wronged by the Framework’s judgement. Zeke couldn’t really disagree with either assessment, though he was working from a position of ignorance. He had experienced some of what Hell had to offer, but he was no expert.

“I am,” said Eveline. “But admittedly, I’m a bit biased. Either way, we don’t have to worry about that. We’re in Heaven, and we’ve got a lot of people left to kill. That should keep us well occupied without philosophical questions on the nature of justice and vengeance.”

That statement felt a bit paradoxical, yet Zeke couldn’t deny it, either. In any case, his attention quickly found its way back to the progression of the battle. And it was going well. The multiple points of ingress – which included the beastkin who were currently rampaging within the city walls – had completely broken the defenders’ discipline. In the chaos, the kobolds had already scaled the walls and were in the process of slaughtering the Knights who’d been tasked with guarding the city.

Still, even with everything going according to the plan, there were plenty of deaths among Zeke’s people. After all, these Knights weren’t the dregs they’d assigned to defend the fortresses in the pass. As such, they were higher leveled and more capable than their predecessors.

To combat the most powerful among them, Pudge and Silik were working together. And every now and again, Zeke saw their progress. Still, he was on pins and needles as he watched from afar, and he was ready to leap into battle the second he thought Pudge was in mortal danger.

As it turned out, though, his people were up to the task before them, and after a day of fighting, the city fell. Few Knights surrendered, but there was another problem, as explained to him by a kobold legionnaire who’d been dispatched to fetch Zeke.

“Ak-Toh,” said the legionnaire, slapping a fist across his cyclops-skin breastplate. Zeke nodded, and the kobold continued, “There is an issue that requires your judgement.”

“What is it?”

“Peasants,” the kobold answered. “We do not know if you wish them taken prisoner, killed, or rescued.”

Zeke knew that they would take whichever route he dictated, which was a little disconcerting. Despite the fact that he’d been leading an army for some time, the fact was that he still wasn’t used to having so many lives hang on his judgement. And he didn’t think he ever would.

But whether or not he was comfortable with it didn’t change the fact that it was his responsibility. So, after adopting his unattuned colossal form – it had become his unofficial uniform for his duties as Lord of the Crimson Tower – he followed the kobold down the hill to the city of Wealton.

After stepping through a wide breach in the wall, he saw a city that looked like it had been bombed into submission. Whole buildings had collapsed, and dead bodies, Knights and civilians alike, were scattered through the city. There were kobolds and beastkin there, too, but already, his army had begun to remove their own dead.

Soon, there would be a giant pyre to honor those who’d sacrificed their lives for the Crimson Tower. For Zeke.

“They’re not fighting for you,” Eveline pointed out. “They’re fighting for themselves, and against what Adontis represents. You have to realize that.”

“I do.”

“But that doesn’t comfort you, does it?”

“It does not,” Zeke admitted as he glared at the death and devastation that had come at the result of his orders. He knew it was necessary, and for so many reasons. He also didn’t necessarily feel guilty about the deaths of the Knights. They had made their choices, and he had few issues about delivering unto them the consequences. Yet, there was no way for anyone with a heart to look out at so much destruction and feel nothing. Still, he would not let that dissuade him from doing what was necessary, so he bore the weight of those orders on his shoulders as he stoically followed the legionnaire through the ruined city.

Finally, they reached a destitute part of the town. Though the buildings looked to have been untouched by the battle, they were in clear disrepair. The streets were mud and dirt, and Zeke saw a few overturned carts of half-rotted fruits and vegetables. It was poverty on a level Zeke had not seen since being reborn.

Even on Earth, it was the sort of scene that would have garnered intervention from wealthier populations.

“Or the appearance of it, at least,” Eveline said. “From your memories, I can tell that many people on your home world used the plight of others to misdirect and exploit the generosity of the masses.”

“Yeah,” Zeke admitted. “It doesn’t matter, though.”

“Of course it matters. Just because you left that world behind doesn’t mean that people’s nature will change,” Eveline pointed out. “The same problems that plagued your world are almost assuredly here as well. The word Heaven implies perfection, but unless you fundamentally change people, that simply isn’t an attainable goal.”

“Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.”

“And if someone uses your soft heart against you?”

“Then that’s their issue, and I’ll respond appropriately,” Zeke said. He wasn’t perfect. Far from it. But he refused to let himself fall into the cynical trap of letting others’ character flaws affect how he approached the world.

Whatever the case, it was clear that whoever had lived in the area had been impoverished, and that supposition held up when Zeke was led to the group of people who’d been confined to a large market square in the center of the poverty-stricken district. They were, one and all, thin to the point of malnourishment, and they each wore clothing that was better described as rags. Most were barefoot, and many looked no better off than the slaves Zeke had rescued back in Min Ferilik.

So, when Zeke arrived, he approached Kianma, who was surrounded by a group of other spiritweavers. When he got there, they all inclined their heads, and lifted their fists to their chests. Thankfully, they did so gently.

He asked, “What’s going on here? Are these people slaves?”

“No, Ak-Toh,” said Kianma. “Peasants.”

Zeke took a moment to study the gathered people. From what he remembered from history class, peasantry on Earth wasn’t nearly as bad as it was depicted in stories and in movies. They were far from well off, but most were treated well enough, largely because without them, the landholders would have suffered. And if the peasantry were pushed too far, that was how rebellions happened. So, there needed to be a balance.

It seemed that Adontis’s version of a feudal society didn’t care about that balance, and had instead treated the peasants like de facto slaves.

The surprising thing was that they had taken it.

“Do you understand how difficult it can be to progress? Most people aren’t keen on exploring the wilds and putting themselves in mortal danger,” Eveline explained. “Even in Hell, that is rare. At best, you might see hunting parties or armies, and even then, the path is a long and slow one. What you do is unheard-of. These people were all born here. They know nothing more. Certainly, a few of them might have branched out and gotten worthwhile classes. Those assuredly ended up joining the Knights. What you see here are the dregs. The ones only a step above the beastkin slaves they kept on the other side of the labyrinth.”

After crossing into Adontis proper, they had yet to see the sort of chattel slavery that pervaded the frontier that bordered the Mukti Plains. Likely, that was because they had a ready source of nearly free labor in the peasantry.

“What should we do with them?” Zeke asked.

“Take them in. Give them better lives. Use them.”

Zeke shook his head. He didn’t like the idea of using people who, for their entire existence, had been treated like property. Yet, he didn’t see a better way. If he left them alone in what was left of Wealton, they would certainly die. For better or worse, the Knights of Adontis did protect them. Without that bulwark of power shielding them from the wilderness, they wouldn’t last long.

After that, Zeke gave his orders to Kianma and the spiritweavers.

But before he left, he stood before the peasants and raised his voice, “You have two choices before you. The Knights have fallen. They can no longer protect this city. We will not be doing so, either. However, we offer you the option of joining the Crimson Tower, where you will be protected, given the means to live your lives, and the resources necessary to contribute to the well-being of the other residents. That is option one. Option two, you can stay here and survive as you see fit. You must make your choice before the army moves on.”

Then, without another word, Zeke left the confused peasants behind, but a pervasive sense of frustration remained. He really needed to find something to beat into submission, or he was going to go crazy.