An Extended Holiday

by Commander_Pensword

175 - Rip and Tear

Extended Holiday
Chapter 175: Rip and Tear

---

The creature that walked into the Dragon Lands was neither large nor imposing. There was no ominous wind, no thunder or lightning, no omen or portent. Even if there were, the greater portion of the Dragons that resided in the land cared little for such things in their blind avarice and greed. Possession and power were what mattered here. Power to take what they wished. Power to terrorize enemies and neutral parties alike. In all their years, the Dragons had felt no need to truly feel afraid. No, not truly, save for some few of the elders, those who remembered what it meant to face a foe that was not of their kind and yet could hold its own.

These alone felt the breaking of the contract. And with that breaking, they tasted fear. Those who had sense took what valuables they could and fled, leaving caves and hordes for others to claim. They knew only too well what was coming.

Hammer Strike gazed at the skies where these creatures fled. His augments zoomed in on their trajectory and marked the location of their dens. It was as good a place as any to begin his chastisement. No, that was too soft a word. They had broken a solemn pact. They had dared not only to harm those who were under his care as subjects. They attacked his son and daughters. He’d promised Bahamut to watch over and protect Yharon. And though the contract had been broken, he would honor his word on that front, at least. The rest … could burn.

The crisscross of scars that now made the majority of his hide glowed with an inner fire as his power channeled through his body and the Outsider’s mark. Already, the permutations of ways in which the Dragons were celebrating their assault plagued his mind, feeding the torrent that gave his monstrous weapon shape.

“Never again,” he said softly. Blue fire scorched the earth with every step he took. And like a spark on a fuse, that power spread through the earth. Precious gems and veins of ore in all shades and hues flashed a bright blue that increased in radiance to the point where it was practically blinding. And then, suddenly, it died. Crystals, gems, and geodes disintegrated into so much powder. Ore was reduced to dross-ridden slag. The very earth itself, once full of life, sagged into pot and sinkholes as the color drained into dead black rock. The only source of color that remained came from the magma flow that spurted to the surface with the force of Hammer Strike’s unrestrained malice channeled with every dogged step.

There was no problem with this at first. That is, until he’d walked a few miles into the territory. And just as oil spreads broadly over water with a single drop, so too had the Pony king’s power spread to the nearby dragons that were feasting and counting their bounty. For those that were eating, the gems turned bitter in their mouths, then crushed to a sickly paste. They spat it out. These had only just begun to hit their stride as Greed Dragons. Their spines were jagged. Their scales were hard and rigid. Their eyes blazed with the ever-burning lust for power, for possessions, and the status that those possessions would bring as their corrupted forms swelled with pride, arrogance, and that ever-growing hunger.

“All right, who the Tartarus just ruined my lunch?” the first youngling roared. The ground shook with his bulk as he slammed onto all fours. His body rippled with muscle, and his scales cracked like dry desert earth as he stomped toward the source of the disturbance. Three more shadows flew overhead, their mouths ablaze with the fires of their malcontent.

Every person knew better than to get between a Dragon and its meal.

Every person, save for this creature that even now was poisoning their food!

As the Dragon charged forward, he thought about how only a fool would be this brash to come against such powerful young Dragons still growing into their prime.

As the Pony in question drew his axe back, the Dragon thought about how only a fool would use a Pony weapon against a Dragon.

And as the Dragon’s head was being cleaved off his neck, a final thought passed through his head.

Only an idiot underestimates a fool.

The other three younglings paused in their flight as they took in just how neatly and easily this Pony had cut through a Dragon’s scales and spinal cord without so much as breaking a sweat. This particular enemy would require more tact than they thought. The fire burned in their bellies as they prepared to bombard the Pony with projectiles. If they couldn’t take it out up close, they would burn it from a distance.

Their flames seemed to simply ignore the Pony as they got close. The magic in the dragonfire itself burned in large flares of blue. Hammer Strike looked up with cold fury as he pulled back and tossed his axe. The blade flew. The wrapping connecting it to Hammer Strike extended longer and longer until it reached the closest dragon, wrapping around one of the dragon’s necks twice. It dug its blade into the dragon’s side, and Hammer Strike pulled with a single savage tug. The creature’s wings attempted to resist. In an instant, the bones crumbled from the force, and the magical reptile plummeted toward the wrathful Pony. When it crashed into the ground, Hammer Strike gritted his teeth and willed the tethers to tighten.They reacted immediately, curling around the Dragon in a spiral from neck to tail, then rapidly becoming tighter and tighter. They pushed against its scales, constricted it, and then, like a hot knife through butter, the tethers cut through scale and flesh alike. The body came apart in several meaty pieces with a showering spray of blood.

The crimson display was made all the more frightening by the red fog that shrouded their opponent as a result of vaporizing the blood that should have coated him. A deep purple light blazed in the heart of that fog, and both Dragons knew what had caused that color to shift. They were in over their heads. The other Dragons would have to be warned. This was a threat that would require all their combined might. Pride and greed would have to be set aside for the greater good of their survival. If they lost face before the other Dragons, so be it.

Hammer Strike looked at the fleeing Dragons but made no visible effort to stop them. There was no need to. Instead, he exerted just the barest flicker of will.

Both dragons dropped from the sky screaming as they clutched their chests. Their fire sacks erupted in pain that slowly seeped into their entire bodies. Heat unlike anything they'd ever thought possible played through their systems. White-hot flames poked and prodded their nervous systems. Somehow, their consciousnesses never faded as the scales above their hearts blackened and cracked from the heat, falling to ash as the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. It wasn’t until their chests were mostly burned away that death finally claimed them.

Hammer Strike didn’t give them another thought. He had bigger fish to fry.

---

Binding doubled over the table as he finished pouring tea for Yharon. His magic blazed, and the teapot shattered. The steaming liquid boiled into vapor that filled the room with the scent of fresh herbs and tea leaves. He gasped as he struggled to rein in the sudden surge of power.

Celestia looked on in concern at the stallion who had been at least in part their teacher over the years. “Binding? Are you all right?”

Binding shuddered as his body was wrapped in a magical aura. “Oh. My. Lord,” he said through gritted teeth. “What did they do to you?”

“Binding?” Yharon’s voice was gentle as he lay propped against the pillows. “What’s going on? Is Father all right?”

“Your father is fine,” Clover said in a rare soft tone as she stroked Yharon’s head gently. “He’s just sending a message.”

Yharon blushed. “Mother, I’m not a hatchling anymore….”

“She’s not patronizing you,” Ainz said. His voice held a strange quiver to it, though being a skeleton, his mood was generally impossible to read. “Though I fear so much power may change him.”

“Change him how, exactly?” Luna pressed

“He’s using power up to if not exceeding the twelfth order,'' Ainz explained. “He’s on the brink of transcending mortality entirely. In the state he’s in…” Ainz trailed off for a moment in thought as his glowing eyes dimmed. Then his bones clacked as he shuddered and the orbs resumed their usual intensity. “He’d be something truly terrible.”

“Is there nothing to be done?” Celestia asked.

“Pray for a miracle?” Ainz suggested with an ironic chuckle. “There isn’t a mage alive who could do anything about this. There wouldn’t be one anyway. He’s been beyond our ilk for a very long time.”

“And if he does change?” Yharon asked.

“Pray he remembers who we are.”

“Should we ask for Scar and Anderson to pray as well?”

“I’d suggest getting as many as you can started on it. Use invocation if you have anyone who can,” Anderson said. “Who knows? You might get a response before Dragons become an extinct species.” He winced at the sensation of many more dragons falling to the abyss. “Though I doubt it.”

Yharon frowned. “I never prayed to him before. I don’t really know how. But … if we do need to get gods involved, I can try to ask Bahamut, I suppose.”

“It certainly couldn’t hurt,” Binding said. Then he sighed. “That, and try to send our good will to your father directly. Whatever will help him to keep his sanity.”

---

The whole TARDIS control console was surrounded in static as monitor after monitor flickered, jumped, buzzed, and then faded into that familiar speckled gray that was almost more dreaded than the blue screen of death.

“Oi, oi, oi, what’s all this, then?” The Doctor’s hackles were immediately raised as he raced around the console and began to check the wiring and other parts of the ship’s inner workings.

“Something we’re not supposed to see?” Grif asked.

“If she didn’t want us to see it, she would have cut the feed entirely. This is something else.”

“As great as she is, it’s not just her that decides,” Grif said.

At that moment, the static flickered into solidity again, and Vital Spark gaped with Pensword at the sight. A burbling blue mass tinged with black and purple writhed around the Earth Pony. At one moment, it jabbed from his forehead in a massive spike that twirled before snapping back into the mass. At another point, it seemed almost as though he’d grown another set of legs. Wings shifted between the webbed leathery build of a bat and the sleek feathers of a bird. Rivulets of the power flowed back from his eyes in a miasma startlingly similar to a certain Pony of Shadows.

Grif swore in Phrench. “He’s gotta be riding the knife's edge right now.”

“Sweet mother of God.” Pensword winced as Grif and Vital Spark both whipped their heads in his direction. “This looks like he's teetering between angel and demon.”

“I’m afraid the stakes may be a step or two higher than that,” The Doctor commented.

Pensword whipped his own head back at the Time Lord. “Are you talking about Pantheon levels?”

The Doctor nodded. “Time Lords don’t develop the phenomenon called a divine spark, but we have witnessed it. Enough power, and pop!” He made a popping sound with his hoof and his lips. “Instant recipe for new divine. Problem is how it happens can have irreparable effects on the being they become.” He gestured to the image on screen. “And what kind of god do you figure is born of rage like that?”

“To quote a certain scientist, ‘Now I am become Death, destroyer of worlds,” Vital said. Then he sighed and shook his head.

“Surely he won’t … actually become that, though, right?” Rarity asked. “I mean, he ruled over Equestria for centuries after this. Someone or something must have intervened.”

“Rarity, how many angry gods of destruction does Equestria have in the present?” Grif said. “Because I haven’t noticed any.”

“You know, Grif, it might have been better to give her assurance instead of sarcasm,” Vital noted.

“Well, actually, that would have been how my human father would have answered the question,” Pensword countered. “But yes, Rarity, I am sure something will come in and save the day.” He frowned, “I’d eat my hat if it is anything less than divine at this moment.” Pensword grumped and finally sighed. “I’m starting to get used to this concept of us interacting with the demigod level, even if we are not demigods ourselves.”

“If you want to change the world,” Grif shrugged, “you need to mess with the powers that be.”

“Yeah…. We have gained the attention,” Pensword responded by running a wing over part of the TARDIS. “Some of them are nicer to us than others.”

Twilight looked to the console. She swore one of the red lights blinked at her aggressively. “Some of us, anyway.”

“Next time, ask,” Pensword tweaked back. “How’d you like it if someone wanted to poke inside your body without asking you first or even having proper training?” He shivered as he ran a hoof down his chest.

“Anyway, something tells me we’re not going to see a lot from this.” Grif gestured to the screen, which was still frozen on the loop of Hammer Strike. “Come on, Pensword. You’re up.” Grif turned to leave for the training area.

“Sounds good. I need to work off some emotions that this brought up. Another day and I think we can go up another notch in training.”

“Yeah, then I can take the kiddy gloves off,” Grif commented back. “And train you like I train Rarity. Who knows? Maybe by the time we’re done, I can train Twilight like I train you,” Grif commented as the door closed.

“Did grif imply he takes it easy on me?” Twilight asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, because you never lost your edge. I lived long enough that I lost my first edge, so I need to get back to my former proficiency. Grif is a good teacher to know where a student is on the curve,” Pensword finished, then waved as he followed the Gryphon out.

---

Step after step, hoard after hoard, kill after kill, Hammer Strike carried on. He neither ate nor slept. The cold clarity of his rage sustained him, and the life he leached from the land fueled his body. Those Dragons who dared to challenge him were silenced swiftly, brutally. Those who fled died in agony. There was no mercy left to give. A buffet of his ghostly wings wrenched the flyers from the sky. A stomp of his shod hooves forced the dragons of the earth from their hiding places as the very land itself bent to his will, literally gut-punching them out of their holes.

One glare sent not daggers, but scalding heat that not even the great beasts of legend could withstand. Scales erupted as searing white fluid burst to melt and fuse their scales and flesh. Whole chunks of their bodies were cast off like so much slag, revealing glowing bone that clawed imploringly beneath before falling limp with neither nerve nor tissue nor ligament to move them. A lash of the whip-like protrusions from his weapon shattered the structure and reduced one of the strongest magical substances to exist on Equis to fragments, and then to dust.

Cascades of gemstones and geodes exploded as magma forced new vents into existence, spreading lava flow after lava flow, pooling around what few skeletal remains were intact. It was as though the very land itself was sickened. And yet, it still changed. And it still obeyed the Earth Pony’s slightest whim.

“Where are you?” he asked as he continued his trek. “Where are you hiding?” The blue energies licked in tight concentration around his body, but the flames had long since disappeared from sight, though their effect and their presence had not. He followed his own path like a bloodhound on the trail. The will of the contract itself guided him. And he didn’t care what happened to the other Dragons on his way. Burning, choking, vivisecting, disemboweling. Whatever punishment they received, whatever pain they might endure, the outcome was always and would always be the same. He would cull them. They would die.

They would all die.

And every scream that carried over those lands was a death knell to the betrayer.

Two great wings spread from behind a mountain as Hammer Strike approached. Then came another pair, and another, and yet another circling the peaks from whence a continuous stream of smoke ascended. Whatever lay beyond was precious enough for the Dragons to stand their ground, rather than flee the Pony’s wrath.

There were few things that could draw such unity from these creatures.

They were fortunate he had bigger prey to challenge. Rather than continue what would prove to be an exceptionally long search, Hammer Strike willed the earth to rise again, taking him with it until he was high enough to project even over the hills and mountains that his rage had forced into creation. He channeled his will into his voice and amplified it to carry over the Dragon Lands.

“Derazul, by my command, come forth and receive your punishment!”

The power that surged from the Pony was invisible, but palpable as it spread over every rock and crevice of the rapidly changing landscape. Far in the distance, a pained roar more akin to a snarl echoed on the winds. Many more followed, mingled with swearing and curses. Hammer Strike remained as he stared implaccably over the landscape.

And then he came. The elder had only grown larger in the passing years. His body had contorted into a twisted form coated in jagged spikes of bone and horn as layer upon layer of protective scales built over his body. His eyes glowed with malice and a primal hunger outmatched only by the bravado of outrage. This time, he didn’t have to be dragged to the ground to see eye-to-eye with Hammer Strike.

He didn’t have to be. But he was anyway. The land shook with tremors at the force of his impact as the same force that had bound him so many years ago took hold once again. Derazul snarled and roared and thrashed to no avail. “You were supposed to be dead!”

“I do not fall so easily,” Hammer Strike replied flatly. “And you were meant to obey the contract.”

Derazul spat at the tower supporting the Pony. Rather than acknowledge his fault, he endeavored to change the subject. “How did you know my name?”

“I can feel it. Every fiber of my being can sense every source of life and know each name. Know this, Derazul.” Hammer Strike couldn’t help but let a smile pass. “After I snuff out your life and damn you to whatever afterlife Bahamut sends you to, I’ll ensure that every Dragon following your fate knows that it was you who brought this upon them all.”

Derazul lashed out with his claws and broke the pillar. He sneered as he watched the structure sway, then ultimately begin to fall. He roared in triumph. “Die!”

Though the tower fell, Hammer Strike remained in his spot, hovering in the air above. He continued as if nothing had happened. “I hope you receive every punishment befitting your failure.”

The straps struck like divine lightning, wrapping, melting, searing as they continued to lengthen until they surrounded the creature entirely. They squeezed, then loosened, then squeezed again, revealing the dark marks where they had harmed the creature. Derazul grit his teeth and bore through it as long as he could before he finally raised his neck and roared in pain. And that was when the last strap took its place and began to squeeze, simultaneously constricting the Dragon’s windpipe, even as it burned.

Derazul’s eyes widened. His tongue thrashed wildly as he gurgled and choked. The barest hints of flame could barely be seen as it struggled to reach his mouth, only to be stopped by the shrunken airway. Tighter and tighter, hotter and hotter. The whites of the dragon’s eyes slowly turned red as oxygen was consumed and blood vessels burst. His thrashing shook the surrounding land structures, spreading fissures as the ground continued to warp and wither under the watchful gaze of the creature that had proved itself to be nigh unto a god.

Finally, and mercifully, Derazul’s eyes rolled back as the spinal column was exposed and ultimately severed, creating a clean cleave between the two parts of the body. The head and length of neck thundered with explosive force as the bone spurs dug into the soft earth. The rest of the body soon followed.

Derazul, Scourge of Equestria, Disgrace of the Dragon Lands, Conqueror of Many, Ruler of None, was dead.

---

Deep within the Astral Plane, Bahamut watched the destruction waged below. By all the laws of retribution, Hammer Strike had every right to claim his vengeance over the Dragons. He held the blessings of Sleipnir and the gratitude of Faust. And more than that, he had a divine covenant with Bonnie. All three of the deities who held the most sway over the world now stood behind Hammer Strike. And worse yet, though it hurt the god to admit, by his own nature, he could not interfere. He was bound to honor their fate.

But that did not mean he didn’t feel pain over it.

The plane rippled. Then a flash of light heralded the arrival of the creator goddess, she who had brought life to the world, and she who had encouraged that life to spread to all corners. Faust’s red mane glistened as it fluttered and ultimately lowered itself again. “Lord Bahamut,” she said by way of greeting.

“Lady Faust,” he responded with a nod of his head.

“I suppose I should get straight to the point. Why are you here, Bahamut?” She looked over the images that flowed through the stream of aether. To the eyes of the creatures on the mortal plane, Hammer Strike was sheathed by a nimbus of an unidentifiable magic. To their eyes, however, it was only too plain what was forming. With every kill, the Earth Pony stood a little taller, a little broader, and the sheer stress on that which had given him such power now led it near to the breaking point. So great was the Pony’s wrath that whirlpools began to form in the stream as the energies of the astral plane were drawn down and forcefully injected into the core of his being. At the rate he was going, Hammer Strike wouldn’t be a simple Pony for much longer. “He’s slaughtering them.”

“He warned them. He forgave them. They pushed him to this.” Bahamut sighed. “Tell me what I can do in this. How could I possibly stand vindicated and yet interfere?”

“If you don’t interfere, he’ll ascend here and now, and he’ll be trapped in this state for all of eternity. Perpetual wrath incarnate. That’s not what my children need or deserve. Father has seen where that path can lead. We’re all in agreement. His ascension must be stopped. And the only way is to quell his anger here and now with the one thing that can preserve them and him.”

“And what would you have me do?” Bahamut asked. “I have no right to intercede.”

“But intercede you must. Your children listen to you and your sister. And she doesn’t want to lose any more followers than she already has. Much though it may displease you, the two of you must put aside your differences to preserve what remains. A contract between your children and what they perceive to be a weak mortal is easily broken after a number of years. A contract between their gods, bound to their very essence, on the other hoof….”

Bahamut looked at her, and the gravity of the suggestion shone in his gaze. “You say that like such a contract is a small thing.”

Faust’s gaze was level as she pointed to Hammer Strike. “No. Small things are for small problems. This is a large thing to save the future of your children and all of Equis. I am not going to let this world suffer like Mother’s did. And neither are you, or so help me, you’ll have to wrath of two angry gods to worry about, as well as the guilt of this genocide!”

Bahamut sighed and averted his gaze to look once more on the carnage. “I cannot guarantee he will listen.”

“He’s a clever mortal. He knows more of the ways of gods than most. Have faith in his reason. And more importantly, have faith in his subjects. You hear them, don’t you?” With the lifting of a single wing, all of Unity and Equestria sprawled before their gazes. “Thousands upon thousands of souls are crying to me, my father, my mother.” She paused for a moment. When next she spoke, her voice was far softer. “And one in particular to you.” At her bidding, the window showing a familiar dragon with blazing feathers hovered before the god. “Do you not hear his cry, a cry made all the louder because of the sincerity and love that weigh behind it?”

‘I know I haven’t spoken to you before. I don’t know if I have a right to even make this request. But make it I do. I know he’s not a Dragon. I know he did not sire me. But he did raise me. And from what he told me, it was at your request. So, I’m asking you, please. If you honor him. If … if you love me the way I think you do. Bring my father back to me.’

The prayer resonated with Bahamut. Unlike many of his children, it was true and from the heart. He could feel the power in the words, and the conviction that lay behind them. With a sigh, he rose to his feet. “Lady Faust, I feel I may be in need of your assistance.”

Faust nodded grimly. “You shall have it, and the aid of my mother and father. As I said, this must end.”

“Then let us end it,” Bahamut said with a bitter smile.

---

Vengeance walked the earth, and all that remained was naught but dust and ash. Jagged peaks clawed desperately at the skies above, but no vegetation clothed them. Their beauty had long since been stripped. The jewels that had been so precious were gone. The nourishing metals and alloys that had spurred the greedy beasts’ growth were reduced to so much slag as they rejoined their mother earth in the lava flows. Craters filled with lava to become pools while smooth and fertile terrain rumbled, churned, and ultimately surged into craggy peaks with gaping maws.

Hammer Strike had followed his word to the letter. Not one stone was left untouched in all the Dragon Lands. The creatures that had worshipped their riches, their greed, their very lust, were culled to the point of near-extinction. Even those that were lesser and not so corroded by greed had fallen to his hoof. The rhythmic clop of an extra set of hooves would sometimes echo like the ghost of some unwanted specter. With every Dragon he dominated, the surge of power rushed from within. And eventually, the sensation became almost … pleasurable to him. War was no friend to him. But wrath, wrath had served him well. And he had rewarded it richly these last few days.

Once, he thought he heard the sobs of a little girl. But he knew no such thing existed. Not here. The hatchlings wouldn’t have been allowed to go into combat, let alone participate in a raid. No, the previous clutch was all grown up, which meant he could hunt to his heart’s content. And what better place to find his prey than the location where those very hatchlings waited to be born? The sobbing faded as he strode purposefully forward. His eyes glowed brighter as he scanned the horizons in search of his new prize.

The clop of heavy hooves on the ground was followed by the familiar scent of fresh grass and flowers. A circle of calm flooded the land around him, and the rustling of folding wings would have confirmed his deductions, even if he couldn’t sense the overwhelming power of her divine presence as he did now. Granted, it wasn’t nearly so overwhelming as he thought it might be. Or maybe he just didn’t care anymore. He shrugged the thought off. It was a distraction, just as Faust was being a distraction. But the least he could do was listen to her. She hadn’t wronged him, after all.

“Faust.” He acknowledged her audibly.

“Hammer Strike,” she returned. Her voice was grave, but there was an element of respect to it that felt deeper than the mere gratitude she had expressed when last they met. This was the voice of one addressing an equal. “You’ve been putting on quite the display,” she noted as she looked over the land.

“A contract broken. I gave them a few chances, but this time…” He paused, taking a breath. “This time will be the last.”

Faust sighed regretfully. “I understand going after the ones who wronged you. I just wish you could have left the surface be. I put a lot of effort into crafting this place.”

“Fuel, once for dragons’ greed, now for my energy.”

“And do you plan to leave this land dead forever?”

“Life will flourish once more, but not anytime soon.”

“And the remaining energy? What do you plan to do with it?”

“I am unsure. It responds to me, despite my lack of calling.”

“I have to ask you this, Hammer Strike, so I hope you’ll forgive me, but are you aware of the risk you’re putting your body through right now?”

“I fail to understand your question.”

“There’s a very real risk that you’ll unmake yourself, if you’re not careful. You’ll come back, but you won’t return the same.”

“I doubt your outlook.”

“Doubt it if you wish, but it’s true all the same. Ascension can be a very messy business.” She shuddered. “Which is why I’m going to do everything in my power to keep it from happening.” The ground rippled under their feet. “I’m sorry, Hammer Strike.” A beam of light struck from Faust’s horn, blinding the Earth Pony. A moment later, an immense force struck from above. He sensed the energy coming, but though he sought to push back against it and ultimately turn that force against its owner, something felt … wrong. Something warm and sticky flowed around his legs. He blinked just in time to see Faust’s blurry body hovering in the air before the force came again.

And this time, Faust joined her power to it.

It’s a curious sensation, being thrust into the earth. In most cases, it hurts. The face grates against rough dirt and solid rock. Friction guts and scars the face and anything else that drags hard enough. This earth, however, was liquid. And what lay beneath was far hotter. The natural luminescence of the fluid surrounding him gave the light he needed to see.

And see he did. A great underground cavern stretched before him, full of minerals and warmth, and that hidden potential he had sought time and again. Potential for talent, for magic, for strategy, for businesses. This one, this one held potential for new life. It also held the familiar figure of Bahamut as he hovered behind what, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be some sort of titanic spectral desk made solid in a world that should have reduced it to so much slag.

There were several things Hammer Strike would have liked to say, but looking at Bahamut made him bite his tongue. After a few seconds he sighed. “You’ve pulled some strings to get me here. I already know a few of your reasons, but I suppose we shall clear things up then?”

“I suppose we shall,” bahamut agreed. “Let’s start with what's happening right now.”

“I’m positive you already felt the binds of the contract break. I am doing what I had so warned them of.”

“And I acknowledge that.” Bahamut nodded. “I’m here to try and find some other way we can end this.”

“I sought methods of keeping them at bay, even going so far as to use their brethren as warnings. I made that contract as a method of ending this conflict before it could start, but they did not listen!”

“And if you had something stronger to bind them with?” Bahamut asked.

“I would have to renew a thaumic contract with every dragon to ever live every time one is born from henceforth for my methods. Something they would not agree to, even in their dying breaths.”

“I would have thought even in your anger you would know that was not the only way,” bahamut said. “There are ways to bind them that even they cannot control or stop.”

“And so I see the reason for you bringing me here. You wish to bind the contract.”

“I am their god and their maker. My authority exceeds their own, and a contract with me is unbreakable and unquestionable.”

“And should a method be found?”

“The offender shall simply no longer be considered a Dragon and exist outside the protection of me and my sister.”

Hammer Strike grit his teeth as he thought it over. After a few minutes, he sighed heavily. “And I am to assume you will ensure every Dragon within these lands hears of this, and ensure it is known from here onward?”

“I will give you something to make it undeniable.”

Hammer Strike raised a staying hoof. “Before that, what will the terms of this contract be?”

“You will not exterminate my people. In return, they will no longer act against you in any shape or form, including your country and those connected to you.”

Hammer Strike thought it over several times before he sighed once more. “I want each and every one of them to know this contract was made. Not just by some object officiating it.”

“So be it,” Bahamut said as he reached onto his back and tore free a scale far larger then any Hammer Strike had collected. It stood broad and tall enough to cover the Pony completely. With a claw bahamut scrawled the contract onto it, burning it with his own fire. When it was finished, he placed it before Hammer Strike to inspect.

Hammer Strike scanned over every inch of the contract to ensure no loopholes could exist within its current state before he nodded. “It’s acceptable.”

“So let it be.” Bahamut nodded, his voice echoing and rolling across the Dragon lands. He spread his wings wide as knowledge of the contract and what it pertained filled every Dragon. “And any who would defy this will shall be at your mercy.”

Hammer Strike took a moment and once again attempted to calm himself. The calm from before was that forced by rage that had overflowed its bounds. Now, he had to rein that in. It wasn’t easy, however. Having just come from war, and then losing a number of his subjects had already caused a severe spike. The Dragons’ actions tipped things farther than he had ever felt.

“It will take time,” Bahamut said simply.

“It doesn’t help that it feels like my field has exceeded its capacity.”

“You have no idea,” Bahamut said.

Hammer Strike continued to slowly push the excess energy out of his field back into the lands around him, but it was a slow-going process. He frowned and calculated out how long it would be. “I ... I don’t think I can return like this.”

“It would likely be dangerous to return to your lands as you are,” the Dragon god agreed.

He sighed. “I suppose I was to remain here for the contract in any case.” He looked to Bahamut. “Where do we begin?”

“We begin by figuring out how to control Dragons.” Bahamut sighed.

Hammer Strike blinked a few times as he thought things over when he remembered one of the Alicorn artifacts. One would always resonate within him when he ordered things forcefully. Placing a hoof on his chest he willed the artifact to come forward, and soon held a small golden gemstone in his hoof. “Perhaps this could help.”

“One of the solar tears?” bahmut said, taken aback. “How do you have this?”

“Solar tear?” Hammer Strike questioned. “I stumbled across them in the Alicorn Empire.”

Bahamut stared at Hammer Strike flatly for several minutes. “You’ve had more than one of these, and you never knew what they were?”

“They answered me in a time of need, and I suppose it just never crossed my mind.”

“You are aware of the embodiments?”

“I am, yes.”

“And the peculiar attitude of this world's sun and moon?”

“There’s technically two points about that, but yes.”

“Every universe has embodiments of a type,” Bahamut began. “They naturally exist to keep things in balance. When one is killed, another takes its place. This is normally how things are done. Unfortunately, there are ways to destroy even them. In this world, it happened to the sun and moon.”

“Thus needing an external source to move them…” Hammer Strike hummed in thought.

“When they were destroyed, bits of their own power were broken away and crystalized, forming ten objects of power. These objects, in turn, grasped bits and pieces of the things people had attributed to the sun and moon at the time. What you hold is Command, the crystal that allows its user to influence the will of others.”

“That … certainly explains a few things.”

“These stones have a tendency to avoid those who seek power. Few, if any, have held more than one.”

“I … may have held them all, at one point.” Hammer Strike hummed. “Not for long, and admittedly my memory of some of those events is a bit … lacking.”

Bahamut seemed speechless at that point, staring blankly at the Earth Pony.

“I once said I would do anything in my power to protect those around me.” Hammer Strike looked Bahamut in the eyes. “No matter the cost it may be to me.”

“Well,” Bahamut said, taking the gem. “With some work, I think we can use this to make that happen.”

“I’d certainly hope so.”

---

Hammer Strike sighed to himself as he continued on his walk out of the Dragonlands. It had been nearly four months since the incident. On his back was a positively giant platinum scale so large that it hung over his back like the top of a table. The side that was up was highly polished, despite the ridges of a dragon scale playing across it. The downward facing side was less shiny and polished. Scrawled across it in Draconic were the words of the contract, a literal divine mandate from Bahamut himself, between Hammer Strike and all Draconic beings. Hammer Strike had taken a small bit of Yggdrasil root and attached it to the back, forming a handle. This had worked better then expected, as the wood proceeded to grow into the scale and formed a handle that could vanish and appear at Hammer Strike’s own will.

It took time for him to dissipate the energy, more so than usual, due to the nature of said energy. He was able to gather the fact that he was on the verge of ascending through the means of his own divine seed. He was never sure if he had one, but it certainly made sense, the more he thought about his past.

In the time he was there, he managed to assist Bahamut in creating a scepter that could channel the energy of the artifact. There would be one to rule over the Dragons that would know of the contract no matter the case. It helped that the artifact still called out for him even after his departure, resulting in it swaying for him despite their separation.

“You're on your way back?” Lord’s voice came through.

“Yes,” Hammer Strike replied. “I’m on my way home.”

“You’ve had quite the experience,” Lord noted. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll manage. The amount of energy I took in has had its effects.”

“Should I inform your people about anything? They have been asking about you.”

“Please do so.”

“I’d say have a safe journey, but we both know that won’t be an issue for you,” Lord said.

Hammer Strike sighed to himself as he continued his way home. It didn’t take long before the landscape shifted to its familiar sightings. Fields, an occasional tree here and there, the walls to Unity, few buildings, the giant castle, the newly built houses.

“Hold on a minute.” Hammer Strike blinked as he scanned over the horizon once again. He was certain he was heading to Unity. He understood that some buildings wouldn’t look the same anymore, since they had to be rebuilt. The castle, however, was completely out of nowhere.

“For crying out loud.” Hammer Strike sighed. “Why not a new cabin? You had to go straight to a castle?” he muttered to himself.

“It was the people's will,” Lord commented. “You knew they wanted you to have a palace for a while now. You no longer have the cabin, so Clover was unable to talk them down.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He frowned as he neared the gate.

“Sir!” The two guarding the gate instantly went to attention with a salute.

“At ease,” he replied dismissively before stopping. “I’ve missed a lot, haven’t I?”

“A lot can happen in a year, my lord,” one of the two said. “Magus Binding was very quick to hire an architect after the attack. With everyone putting in, the rebuild was quick and easy.”

“And you all picked a castle.” Hammer Strike looked at it in the distance. “I suppose it was on the priority list, though I swear it was much farther down on that list.”

“Sir, after the foundries and the reinforced walls and towers, there weren’t many priorities left on the list”

“Fair enough.” He sighed. “Fair enough.”

“Should we inform Lady Clover of your arrival?” the other guard asked.

“She knows,” Hammer Strike replied with a shrug. “Considering the amount of energy I output recently, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be hard to hide my presence like I used to.”

“Very well.” The guards nodded. “Is there anything else you require from us?”

“That should be it. keep up the good work,” Hammer Strike replied as he continued on his way.

A blue bolt surged through the air, kicking up eddies of dust and pebbles behind before connecting with the much taller and stronger Earth Pony. Forelegs wrapped around Hammer Strike’s neck as Luna squeezed him with all the strength she could muster.

“Father, you have returned!” Luna hugged even harder. “I missed you so much.”

“I can certainly tell.” Hammer Strike chuckled as he returned the hug. “When should I expect the other tackle attempts?”

“I think I’m a little too big for tackle attempts anymore.” Yharon strode across the yard with Celestia at his side. He smiled lovingly at the stallion that had raised him and wrapped a feathered wing around Hammer Strike’s back. “Welcome back, Father.”

Celestia chuckled. “I hope you two left enough room for me in there.”

“His other side isn’t taken just yet,” Yharon noted. A few moments later, it was almost like the old days when the four had been on their own.

Hammer Strike smiled. “I certainly needed this.”

“You're not angry at us?” Luna asked.

“What for?”

“The castle,” she clarified.

“I’m sure Clover and Binding ensured everything I would have wanted out of the public eye remained as such.”

“They did,” Harmony said as she materialized in front of the lord. “And I know this goes without saying, but don’t you dare scare me like that again!”

“I’ll try,” Hammer Strike replied softly. “Yeah, I’m saddened that we lost the cabin, but I suppose everyone’s been trying to get me into a castle, anyway.”

“We both know you’re only saying that to deny Clover the satisfaction,” Harmony noted.

“It does give us more room to store things, and our own separate labs,” Yharon noted.

“Also, larger grounds for training recruits,” Luna added.

“And a kitchen fit for a slew of kings,” Celestia finished. Then she smirked. “And some rather exceptional forges.”

“If only they could compare,” Hammer Strike noted softly. “That’s good to hear.”

“You’ll at least praise the builders, won’t you?” Celestia asked. “They worked so hard on it.”

“Oh, of course. Just because my forge is one of the best ones I’ve ever owned doesn’t mean there can’t be good ones elsewhere.” Hammer Strike chuckled.

“Same old Father.” Yharon chuckled. “Mother’s been waiting to see you. I think she’s in the throne room.”

“As theatrical as ever,” Hammer Strike replied as they entered the castle together.

The throne room was a large half circular room. A rug of blue with gold leaf lining the edges had been rolled across the length of it, coming to the foot of a raised dais. Banners bearing Celestia, Luna, and Starlight Bulwark’s cutie marks, as well as imagery of a red serpentine dragon coiled around a bright purple flame, hung from the walls where the dais was. A few feet from the lip, a second dais rose onto the first. To the side hung a banner bearing Clover’s mark, and that of three diamonds in blue and white.

At the center of the dais, where the throne and heraldry of the king would sit, nothing yet stood except Clover smiling at him. Behind her were two regular windows overlooking Unity. And between them, a single stained glass window bearing Hammer Strike’s cutie mark. Ten pillars lined the far walls, five to a side. Between each pillar, banners bore marks of Binding and Ainz, House Hurricane, the symbol of the United Thestral Chieftains, the Earth Pony knights, the Mage Corp, and numerous others of Hammer Strike’s loyal followers. Under the banner of House Hurricane even hung a portrait of Commander Stormwing Hurricane painted by Hammer Strike’s own hoof. Aside from this, curtains and rugs of blue and gold lay around the room, but it was otherwise bare.

“I managed to convince them you’d prefer to make your own throne and banner,” Clover said. “Everything else was non-negotiable.”

“Well, at least you gave me that,” Hammer Strike gave a brief chuckle as he walked over to her and embraced her. “I’m finally home.”

“Took you long enough,” she said, holding him close. “They were about to start trying to call me Princess Regent.”

“You prefer queen, then?” Hammer Strike gave a faint smile.

“You won’t let them call you Your Majesty. Why the hell should I have to?”

“Sooner or later it’s just going to happen.” He chuckled softly. “We’re finally free of the threat of Dragons.”

“And Gryphons for now.” Clover smiled. “And other problems we don’t need.”

“I can’t do that again.” Hammer Strike shook his head. “I refrained from taking powers when moving the sun and moon before, but that… I was losing myself in my rage. It may take tens of thousands of years before the Dragonlands recover from what I’ve done to them.”

“Then let it serve to remind anyone who’d attack Unity,” Clover said harshly. “You may have hatched him, but he’s my son, too.”

“I know you and the others felt what happened. From what I was able to gleam from Bahamut, I nearly ascended beyond mortality.”

“Hey, none of that!" she teased. “We agreed, remember? We both get to die. None of this ‘living forever’ stuff everyone thinks is so great.”

“Well, we’ve certainly got some length of time to go before we get there.” He chuckled. “I’m almost worried that Celestia, Luna, and Yharon would attempt resurrection if we perished. Though I’m certain Ainz wouldn’t let that come to pass.”

“Would Death even try to bring you back, if you didn’t want to go?” Clover asked with a raised eyebrow.

“He’s tried doing it the other way once or twice, but I’m sure he learned that lesson.” Hammer Strike glanced over to the side.

“Still, you have work to do,” Clover said. “You have a kingdom now. You need a banner, a throne, and some kind of crown jewels.”

“I think I have an idea for those.” He reached towards the scale on his back and placed it down before Clover. “A fitting piece for a throne, radiant in power as it is.”

“it … is it thaumic?” Clover asked. Her eyes widened as she examined its energy.

“To a point, it is. A scale from Bahamut, with a contract enforced by divine means and thaumic nature.”

“A contract from a god, written on a piece of said god?” Clover asked almost in awe as she examined it.

“To keep me from killing the rest, he requested a contract to save what remained. They wouldn’t listen to a mortal Pony, but they won’t ignore their god. Should one find a way to circumvent the contract, they are no longer a Dragon, and will be exiled as such.”

“This is definitely a start.” Clover laughed. “I almost fear for whatever dignitaries come to see you here. The sheer power this radiates would make most Unicorns delirious.”

“It will ensure that every nation in the world thinks twice about their actions against us.”

“I can see that.” She nodded. “Hurricane would be ecstatic.” She gave him a grim smile.

Hammer Strike returned it as he bathed in the love of his family. “I’m positive of that.”

---

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Hammer Strike questioned aloud. He was within a meeting room dedicated to his meeting with the inner circle. “I think it would be best to clear things up in a meeting like this, settle any concerns that may have appeared due to recent events.”

“Not sure what there is to be concerned about,” Ainz noted.

“You’re back and your regular self again,” Binding agreed. “So long as we haven’t lost you, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“If anything, we can rest easier knowing where we stand,” Lord added.

“And the fact that any Dragon that attempts to do anything even remotely harmful to Equestria will die certainly adds to our overall security. That’s one less threat,” Binding said.

“There will eventually be some that manage to circumvent the contract, but we will deal with them swiftly.” Hammer Strike nodded.

“We’ll need to start sending out relief teams to some of the outer towns, maybe set up some border stations,” Clover noted. “But we’ve managed to come out of two major conflicts relatively intact.”

“Definitely.” Hammer Strike hummed. “Beyond that, it’ll just be back to standard management. Well, as standard as things can get, that is.”

“So, a few decades’ worth of peace before another bloody conflict?” Anderson asked.

“Hopefully longer, but we will see as things move forward.”

“I assume we’ll also be taking advantage of the peace to upgrade defenses in each of our various settlements and prepare for diplomatic relations with the outside world?” Binding asked.

“You would be correct. While defenses were made across the kingdom, they all pale in comparison to Unity. While we will be unlikely to reach the same level for every city, it would be best to at least fortify and/or enhance already made fortifications.”

“Should we put together build teams?” Ainz asked.

Hammer Strike nodded in return.

“Is there anything we should know?” Clover asked.

“Now that I think about it, I don’t believe I updated everyone on the situation up north, did I?”

Clover shook her head.

“I … somewhat have rule over the Crystalline Research Facility, or now, the Crystal Empire.” Hammer Strike sighed. “For now. They’ll be self-ruling later down the line. But until that time comes, they need someone to manage them.”

“What did you have in mind?” Binding asked.

“I’ll just have to take trips occasionally to update everything over there and alter a few tasks. Nothing major. So be prepared for me to depart for a week or two at a time for the north.”

“I think we can manage that,” Hurricane said.

“All right, anything else that needs to be covered from my absence?” Hammer Strike questioned the group.

“There is the matter of casualty reports from the war. Also, we’ve managed to establish diplomatic ties with the Kirin and certain Buffalo herds. It may be of some benefit to send some delegates to maintain those ties, if possible, at a later date,” Hurricane noted.

“Noted.” Hammer Strike nodded.

---

The next three decades were peaceful ones. The complete lack of any Gryphon or Dragon aggression allowed Equestria the opportunity to truly flourish. Not only were they able to tend to village defenses and other necessary matters, but the monster hunting guild had blossomed into a proper and well-established organization. Undead, demons, shades, and many more were tracked, trapped, and systematically dispatched. The job still carried its risks with a high mortality rate, but overall, the plan was working.

Hammer Strike ruled benevolently and justly with his wife by his side, and his children to support him. However, as in all things involving such victories and success, word eventually gets out, and reputation draws attention. This particular truth fell hard on the former lord, now king, when he received multiple missives from the various kingdoms of both continents.

And though Hammer Strike despised such meetings, he knew the necessity of building allies for the kingdom and helping to establish ties that would further strengthen Equestria for the ages to come after he inevitably returned to the present. To that end, and with a little assistance from Mimir’s silver tongue, messages of acceptance were distributed with invitations for a proper summit, so that the leaders would all have the chance to not only meet Hammer Strike, but to also know each other.

Kirin, Buffalo, Centaur, Gargoyle, Zebra, Horse, and even a new race of feline creatures that called themselves Abyssians. The parties each gathered with their entourages or escorts in the new throne room, where their host and potential new ally waited for them by the dais.

Hammer Strike sat on the throne, his throne. Inch by inch, it shone in multiple hues as scales of all colors and sizes took in the light from behind him. The massive silvery scale that formed the backrest thrummed loudly with power as he leaned against it. The entire throne was close to five feet taller than Hammer Strike himself, rising to form a single flat ridge. The other scales had been attached to some unseen frame in a cohesive pattern that left very little open space. It wasn’t until one looked upon the armrest that they got an idea of the macabre nature of the frame. Long skeletal dragon fingers hung down from the armrests, each topped with wide curved talons. Hammer Strike ran his hoof across the knuckle bones of the right side slowly, causing the fingers to reflexively tap in sequence.

Clack

clack

clack

clack

Clack

Hammer Strike eyed them from the simple blue cushion that seemed to be the only piece not made from Dragon. Of course, if they looked closer, they might have realized the cushion was made of wing membrane.

“Welcome, delegates of each nation.” Hammer Strike sat upright. “Welcome to Unity. I hope your journeys here weren’t rough.”

A tall stallion stepped forward and bowed to show his respect. “Salaam, Your Majesty. I believe I speak for all when I say thank you for your hospitality and invitation. It was … most unexpected.”

“I thought it best to ensure we have positive relations between ourselves,” Hammer Strike noted. “To ensure that we all understand each other.”

“Is this an intimidation tactic?” The Gargoyle matriarch hovered in the air and folded her arms as her golden dress flowed down her body. Her pale white form looked as though it had been carved from solid marble, and a delicate circlet wrapped around her head embedded with various gems.

“If I had wanted to be intimidating, trust me, I could do that much easier,” Hammer Strike replied simply. “No, I planned on keeping things civil.”

“Then what is your intent?”

“To develop relations between all of our nations, or at the very least, determine the current outlook.”

“And what is it that you would propose?” the Kirin representative asked.

“So long as our stampeding grounds aren’t disturbed, we see no reason for quarrel,” the Buffalo chief said.

“That is good to hear.” Hammer Strike nodded. “What I would propose is the standard things one would expect. Trade, freedom of movement, things of similar nature. Of course, we would discuss things further before agreements could be made.”

“Of course.” The Centaur king nodded. “It only makes sense.”

“Our people are not opposed to establishing ties to others, provided you are willing to tolerate our traditions and culture,” the Zebrican delegate said. “Did you have a particular place where you wished to hold discussions? It may be difficult to crane our necks for too long looking up to your throne.”

Hammer Strike stood. “Of course. If you would all follow me.”

---

“Hammer Strike, we need to talk,” Ainz’s voice spoke up from their bond.

“What’s up?” Hammer Strike questioned, placing his quill off to the side.

“It seems a threat has surfaced, one who seemingly has been hiding his presence for a while now.”

“That’s problematic if you’re bringing it up.” Hammer Strike hummed. “I take it you have an idea of who they are?”

“Yes, another lich, and a demon, a ram who has recently finished wiping his entire city off the map.”

“Does this entity go by the name Grogar?”

“How did you guess?”

“Bonnie’s got a contract for you. She wants it dead.”

“Well, that saves me having to ask permission to hunt this creature down.” Ainz chuckled.

“You’re clear to take as much time as you need to deal with this. And if assistance is needed, ask whoever you will.”

“Shall I destroy everything or would you prefer me to bring any artifacts or notes to you?”

“I leave those choices to you.”

“I’ll set out as soon as my preparations are finished, then.”

“Is there anything you require from myself?”

“No. Your permission was enough.”

“Keep me updated,” Hammer Strike replied as he returned to his paperwork.

---

Hammer Strike hummed as he looked over the materials list within the Unity forge. Luna was off to the side checking them over and giving him an accurate count to mark down. “Iron ingots?”

“Check. Seven hundred,” Luna said a moment later.

“Steel?”

“Check. Four hundred ingots”

“Cobalt?” Hammer Strike marked the list.

“A hundred and fifty ingots,” Luna clicked. “Workable, but rather low.”

Hammer Strike hummed. “I’ll have to alert the Diamond Dogs about keeping an eye out for it. All right, how about silver?”

“Check. Four hundred ingots.”

“Ebony?”

“...” Luna looked into the stores and counted again. “Twenty ingots,” she said. “That seems too low.”

“That is too low.” Hammer Strike frowned as he lowered the list. “We should have at least ninety-five. We’ll have to restock that immediately, given the need for it in the production list.”

“Where can we get enough on short notice?”

“I suppose I can tap into my personal supply,” Hammer Strike hummed. “I’ll have to go to my forge.”

“Your mysterious forge.” Luna smirked somewhat sourly.

“Indeed.” Hammer Strike chuckled.

“I don’t suppose I could see it finally?” Luna asked.

Hammer Strike paused and hummed. “Well, I suppose we aren’t in a rush,” he reasoned. “Sure. Why not?”

“Really?” Luna asked excitedly.

“You just have to do one thing.”

“Yes?”

“Close your eyes, and don’t ask too many questions,” Hammer Strike replied as he pulled out his waystone.

Luna instantly shut her eyes.

Hammer Strike shook his head gently as he opened the rift to enter his forge. “All right, take five steps forward, then stop.” He watched as Luna entered the gate and followed behind, closing it behind him. “And open your eyes.”

Luna opened her eyes which proceeded to widen as she took the entirety of Hammer Strikes workshop in.

“Welcome to my forge.”

“It’s amazing,” Luna breathed as she looked around.

“You haven’t even seen the best part.” Hammer Strike chuckled as he brought her over to one of the ‘walls.’ “Now, what was the material we needed again, and how much?”

“We needed seventy-five ebony ingots,” Luna noted as suddenly from out of the blackness, a stack of said ingots emerged.

“Slowly resupplying stockpile.” Hammer Strike smirked. “That, or I have to trade some special materials.”

“How did you get all this?” Luna asked.

“I … did some trading. In particular, with an unbreakable anvil.”

“I suppose that would be very valuable.” Luna nodded, still in awe.

“I can also do more with this forge, such as dilate the time difference between here and home.”

“That's why you’ve gotten so much work done in so little time,” Luna said as she put things together.

“That on top of my standard work speed.”

“So this is where you created your weapons?”

“Most of them, yeah.”

“And the tree root, that's where you’ve been getting the wood?”

“The root of a world tree.” Hammer Strike smiled. “More powerful than you’d expect.”

“I can feel it,” Luna said as she approached the root.

“It also regrows over time, which is exceptionally useful.”

“I can see why you’ve kept this a secret. The ramifications are … staggering.”

“Now, I’ve slowed things down back home, would you like a go at it?”

“You’re serious?” Luna asked him.

Hammer Strike smiled. “Free rein. Make it count.”

Giggling like a school filly, Luna immediately got to work.

---

Yharon sat on his haunches and raised his hands as he closed his eyes in the rock quarry outside the bounds of the castle. He breathed steadily as he brought his will to bear. Twelve of his mother’s exercise spheres lay in a circle around him. Their black surfaces were polished and smooth to the point of reflecting like mirrors.

“Very well. Let’s get this started.” He flapped his wings and they glowed with fiery light. The orbs were enveloped in his magical aura and rose, but rather than increase in weight, these instead began to develop a series of runic formulae that spun in circles around the spheres. With the motion of his hands, each of the ribbons began to unfurl and expand, but rather than the fiery orange and red, these were a cool blue that twirled and spun faster and faster as they expanded, until the matrices ran like the spindles and spokes of a gyroscope. Then, at last, they snapped into equilibrium and lowered themselves to the ground beneath the dragon. Twelve layers of enchantment circled clockwise and counterclockwise in perfect harmony. “So far, so good,” he muttered. “Note to self, make sure to write down notes on this for future use.”

He fully extended his wings and stood on all fours. “Come rock and stone, come silt and sieve, from musty crag and open cave, from darkest depths beneath the mines, come forth into the open skies. I bid you come. I bid you walk. I bid you live. I bid you talk. I bid you come into the light to lend to us your earthly might, to safeguard all the innocent from evil’s blast and ill intent, from those filled with malevolence, arise, arise and be content to safely guard from malcontent.

“To topaz with your knowledge now with thunder surge on enemy’s brow. Cool sapphire I now entreat, wash shadow’s filth from all our streets. Oh ruby with your passion bright, you’ll slay the fiery wyrms with might and should the enemy hold fast, defeat them with concussive blast. The emerald’s honor now entreats the earth and vegetation greet to bring to bear your mother’s might and set the scales of justice right. Amethyst, with color bright, magic shall be your birthright to focus when the world is black and bolster what your allies lack. Aquamarine, I say to thee to beat upon dishonesty and wear away the dark deceits as waves that break upon the sea. Diamond with your facets bright, cut sharper than the sharpest knife. Courage and will shall be your gifts with strength to match and to uplift. Peridot, good fortune’s tool, I give to you this single rule. Good luck to us and allies be. To foes, misfortune flows from thee. Opal, waiting at the gate will guard the mind and spirits’ fates. Garnet, bespelled stone of love will purify with sacred trust and spread your blessing through our homes, assuring that we are not alone. And last, but not least, Tanzanite, the gem which brings the second sight, a gift unto the Thestral be, to aid in their maturity and help those born with special souls to find their guides and take control of that gift born of ancient grace the goddess granted to their race. By the magics, come to me. So mote it will, so mote it be.”

With each invocation, the ring closest to him would light with the color of the stone he called. One by one, the circles changed, and the earth reacted in kind as dust arose and began to circle in a nimbus. The ground rumbled as chunks of earth emerged from the surrounding turf and the shafts of the mines to gather around the Dragon. When the final gem was invoked, and the last passage uttered, the farthest ring ignited with white light. The gyroscope formed yet again, rose, and was suddenly broken apart as the spindles went their separate ways and bound themselves to the amalgamations of rock and precious gemstone, imbuing them with the gift of life.

Sweat dripped from the dragon’s feathers as he panted on the ground. The exertion had been greater than anticipated, but the deed had been done. Already, he could feel the soothing effects of the golems pouring into him. He waited for a half an hour to gather his strength before he finally rose to his feet and returned the orbs to his satchel. Then he looked to the golems themselves. “Come along. There are some people I want you to meet.”

The golems followed obediently behind their maker, and they departed from the grounds, the only signs of their birthing pains being the scars pitted in the land from where parts of their being had emerged. They did not know their future, but they knew their maker, and they knew their purpose. That was enough for now.

---

“And there it is,” Ainz said as they crested a hill to see a large walled city only an hour or so away. Most would look at the lich and see a large robed figure wearing a red and green mask with thick leather gloves covering his hands strolling casually down the road, followed by a robed Pony. Anyone who knew Ainz would note the slower-than-usual pace or how heavily he was leaning on his staff as he moved.

“Are you sure you can make it? We can wait here and rest for a few minutes.” The mare that travelled with him carried a curved horn, rather than the straight that most Unicorns were known for in Equestria. Her body was laden with pouches filled with various ingredients and tomes. A small gold bell gilt with silver dangled from her neck.

“Your kindness is appreciated, but I will be fine. Soon, I will reach my great tomb and will be capable of replenishing my energies,” Ainz said. “And maybe a nice slime bath.”

“I don’t even know for sure what I need.” She sighed and shook her head. “I suppose just meeting with your lord will have to do for now. Her mane was primarily green, but streaks of silver and gold could be glimpsed as she shook her head beneath the hood. My home is in ruins, and it will take generations before the land is able to recover after what that bastard did. I don’t want anything like that to happen to anyone else ever again.”

“Yes.” Ainz nodded. “My lord Hammer Strike will surely resonate with you on that. Lady Clover may even take it upon herself to aid you.” He sent a small psychic ping to Hammer Strike as they moved forward, simply a request to be met at the gate.

“At the very least, the odds of any regular Pony reaching that summit are close to none, for now.”

“Anyone short of the eighth tier will be lucky to create a hole small enough to pass a hen through, even if they do get past those winds you called,” Ainz agreed. “And even then, the power required would be monstrous for just a few minutes.”

“All the same, I hope it’s never found again. That thing is better lost.”

“There are some types of magic better lost to the ages. Let us hope Grogar’s legend ended before it started.'' The gate was closer now, almost within range.

Tears stood on the edges of the mare’s eyes as she looked on the city. “It’s a lot like Tambelon, isn’t it? Not so many bell towers, but….”

“But Unity holds the advantage of variety,” Ainz said. “Grogar would have found much trouble here.”

“I just wish we could have known sooner.”

“For what it’s worth, I hope you can find peace,” Ainz offered.

“We’ll see in time. Perhaps I’ll settle here. Or perhaps I’ll go back to the home of my ancestors. I’m told my family used to be bellmakers at a shrine far to the East.”

Ainz said nothing as they approached the gates and blended into the crowd of other creatures entering and exiting the city. Despite his size and appearance, the lich was hardly the strangest thing seen by the gate guards on a daily basis.

“Do try to stay close,” Ainz advised. “I’d hate to lose you in the crowd.”

“Ainz,” Hammer Strike called out as they approached. “What’s with the ridiculous mask?”

“I was trying to be discreet.” Ainz chuckled as he removed the mask. The front of his robe slid open and his gloves vanished into a dark abyss almost instantly. “I see you received my message.”

“It helps that I’ve been keeping tabs on your position.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “Would you mind introducing me to your travel companion?”

“Allow me to introduce Gusty the Great.” Ainz gestured. “The vanquisher of Grogar and the last surviving Unicorn of Tambelon.”

Gusty gaped at Ainz. “What? But I didn’t—”

“Of course you did,” Ainz said. “After all, everyone knows only a hero can slay a monster. If the story spread of the opposite being true, think of the trouble it could bring.”

“We can discuss this further in a more appropriate setting, such as the castle,” Hammer Strike noted with a small smile.

Gusty cocked her head. “Are you the captain of the guard?”

“Ah, my apologies. I am Hammer Strike. A pleasure to meet you.”

Gusty stared in silence for a time. Her brow furrowed in thought. When she finally spoke, it was with a confused frown. “I hope you’ll forgive the impertinence, but you don’t look much like a king.”

Ainz laughed. “He doesn’t act like much of one either.”

“Never did like the crown.” Hammer Strike gave a small smile. “I can assure you, I am the ruler of these lands. You’re free to ask the guards, if you feel the need.”

She shook her head. “If Master Gown acknowledges you, that’s all the proof I need. I’ve asked him to let me report in his stead while he recovers. I hope you don’t mind.”

“You can come pick my bones for answers after,” Ainz said cheerfully, though he hoped Hammer Strike picked up his tone.

Hammer Strike nodded. “Ainz, you’re free to get some rest. Gusty, would you mind accompanying me to the castle for this report?”

“I have nowhere else to go.” She smiled ironically. “We have much to discuss.”

“I’ll see you later.” Ainz nodded his head and vanished through a large gate of black flames that erupted in front of him.

It didn’t take long for Hammer Strike to lead Gusty to the castle and within a large conference room. “This room is sealed to ensure secrecy. Anything you wish to say will remain within these walls.”

“Then it’s best we begin at the beginning. My city was established as a settlement from the Far East in lands your people likely haven’t heard of before.” She pulled back her hood to reveal her curved horn and lush mane. Patches of red mingled with the green, gold, and silver. “Over many years, we prospered, becoming a society like unto a nation state, existing singularly outside of the squabbles of the other nations nearby.”

“Which is fair, given the state of the world as it was over many years.” Hammer Strike nodded.

“As I said, our people come from the east. We had experience dealing with creatures of shadow and darkness, and this made us formidable against most of the threats in the surrounding region. Vampires, shades, evil spirits, and others knew better than to assault our walls. We unlocked many new branches of magic in our time there, and we lived in harmony with each other. In many ways, it was a paradise. As I’m sure you gathered from our condition on arrival, was is the operative word.”

She laid a hoof gently on the bell at her neck, took a calming breath, and continued. “We were prepared for many evils, but a necromancer was not one of them, at least not this necromancer. He was clever, unlike the others of his kind we had encountered. His reason was mostly intact, and he bore a brutal cunning that gave him all the advantage he would require to overwhelm us and our defenses. He took my people as slaves, but unlike most of his kind, he didn’t kill or reanimate us. He kept us fed and clothed. He forced us to work, but he seemed reluctant to harm us. I was able to use this reluctance to escape the city after taking my time to research for any potential weaknesses to exploit.”

Her frame shook. “I’m afraid my people paid the ultimate price for that. He sent powerful spectres far beyond the skill of one of his kind to conjure, let alone control, after me to bring me back. I suppose that’s when the first inkling dawned to his true nature. I barely managed to keep ahead of the creatures until Master Gown found me. He dispersed them easily. When he told me of his intent to stop Grogar, I gave him all the information I had gathered. I also insisted on returning to Tambelon with him. If he was going to fight that monster, then I was going to give my all to empty the city.

“Unfortunately, when we arrived, that task had already been accomplished by another.” Her mane draped in front of her eyes and obscured all but the tip of her muzzle. “They were all dead, and Grogar was gripped by a mania I had never seen. His laughter was exultant and unreasoning, a stark contrast to the cautious and secretive goat I had come to know. When the time came to confront him, he was arrogant and overbearing. He gloated over the bodies of my people, my family.” She held the bell tighter. “Master Gown approached him. The battle is one that would doubtless become the stuff of legends were it known. He easily deflected the spells Grogar cast, striking stone and mortar with the necrotic energies, but never once taking any damage. When he revealed his true face, well … I assume you can imagine my reaction.”

Hammer Strike nodded. “He is certainly an oddity.”

“Grogar was taken aback, as was I. But his confidence remained.” She shuddered. “It is one thing to witness a single lich unmask. It’s quite another when two do. The battle was long and hard-fought. I’ll leave it to Master Gown to describe the full details. Suffice it to say that, in the end, Master Gown won. Grogar was defeated, and his body destroyed. All that remained was his bell, a magical artifact in which the lich had hidden much of his power. I’m sorry to say we were unable to destroy it.

“We buried the dead and gave them what rites we could. After the fact, we hid the bell on the highest summit we could find, in a cave Master Gown formed himself and bound with a powerful spell. As added insurance, I joined my efforts with his using this.” She removed the bell from her neck and let it hover between them with her magic. “I am what my people call a windcaller. To an extent, I am able to not only command wind, but communicate with it. There are some who might say this steps into the realm of witchcraft, but regardless of where it falls in the realm of magic, it sufficed for our purposes. The winds will never cease to blow on that mountain for so long as it shall stand. And they will guard that cave with everything they can muster.” Her eyes hardened as she recalled that moment. “Would that we could do more.” Then she sighed and shook her head. “The rest, you can guess. The journey was long, but the battle and the ensuing finishing spells had drained Master Gown of much of his strength. We walked here to you, and here we sit.”

“You’ve had quite the journey.” Hammer Strike frowned. “I’m sure of Ainz’s spellwork. The bell will remain secure with both your efforts. In the meantime, I will have a room prepared for you. Though you claim Ainz did all the work, you are in need of rest as well.”

Gusty nodded as she returned the bell to its place around her neck. “I thank you, King Hammer Strike, and I accept. It would seem that Master Gown would prefer history to remember me, rather than him. I assume you would also wish this to be so. If that is the case, it is the least I can do to repay him for ridding the world of such an evil. When Master Gown is ready, we can discuss the details of this … ‘official report’ in greater detail.”

Hammer Strike stood from the table and led Gusty out. “We’ll discuss things when the time comes,” He turned toward the nearest servant. “Savant, would you mind preparing a room for our guest, Gusty?”

The steel-gray stallion bowed respectfully. His forehooves were coated in the familiar white cloth of a servant’s gloves, and his barrel was covered in a suit coat tailor-fit for his service. The glint of wire could barely be perceived wrapping around the top of the gloves, waiting to unfurl at just the right moment. “Of course, Sir.”

---

Deep down in Nazarick, Ainz sat in his throne as power flowed into him from the stones and the magic that made them up. The energy he’d lost fighting Grogar was slowly but surely restored. The temptation was always there to draw from … that, but he resisted that slippery slope as he awaited his lord.

Hammer Strike arrived moments later before sighing. “She’s off to get some rest.”

“Good. I was worried for a moment that you didn’t get my meaning. She told you the basics, I take it?”

“Your assumptions are correct.”

“Grogar was unskilled. Talented, but having no refinement. His spellcraft was sloppy, and he couldn’t duel to save his life. He ended up being the hardest fight of magic I have ever had.” Ainz sighed.

“That’s the part I’m questioning. He would need a potent well of energy to draw from to match against you, so what did he have?”

“You were informed about Tambelon,” Ainz said as he reached into a dark abyss and pulled out what appeared to be a ball of tightly bound glowing rags. Almost afraid to hold it for too long, Ainz telekinetically moved it through the air to Hammer Strike. “That wasn’t entirely true.”

“Don’t tell me….” Hammer Strike took hold of the ball of rags and slowly unfurled it. In the center lay an orb of blood-red stone. It was roughly larger than a baseball by half, and with the seals off, Hammer Strike could feel the power radiating from it as well as waves of pain and anguish. He swore he could almost hear the screams before he managed to cover it again.

“I thought it was better to let her believe they were dead,” Ainz said.

“I agree.” Hammer Strike took a breath. “She … doesn’t need to know about this.”

“Grogar seemed to have been planning it for some time. The labour he was having them accomplish was the formation of the magical circle he would need,” Ainz explained. “As far as I can tell, he used the stone to make his phylactery immune to anything, be it magic or mundane, that could be brought to bear against him.”

“Of course, he did.” Hammer Strike sighed. “I can try to, at the very least, quell the souls within, but I doubt I could release them.”

“I doubt anything can.” Ainz nodded. “I have done the best I can to soothe their pain while they are covered, but my knowledge is lacking in this area.”

“I only knew of one other stone, so my knowledge is only slightly more.”

“I would prefer it if you were to take it,” Ainz said.

“I'll … see what I can do.” Hammer Strike placed the orb within his coat.

“That aside, there was nothing worth retrieving in Tambelon. Grogar’s notes were … childish, really.”

“Brute force tends to make a challenge.” Hammer Strike sighed. “I’ll have to broaden our sights, send scouts and such out farther, lest we have another incident such as this.”

“I’ll work on it immediately.”

Hammer Strike nodded. “Anything else to report?”

“Not really. I sealed Grogar’s bell, so his soul could not leak out, and placed him in the strongest barrier I could devise. Other then that, it is all pretty much as you know.”

“All right, then. I’ll see to … managing this ‘stone.’”

---

Yharon sat placidly in the shadows as his golden eyes met the red and yellow of the Thestrals that peered from the darkness of the room. Silver streaks of moonlight illuminated the gathering, and small spheres of fire danced ghostlike between the chairs of the delegates.

“I thank you all for coming on such short notice,” the Dragon began. “I wouldn’t have called you here, were it not important.”

“We wouldn’t expect otherwise.” One mare nodded. “Your father wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“Indeed. To be frank, I’ve invested a certain amount of my power into creating guardians to assist with protecting the kingdom. One in particular, I designed with you and your unique gifts in mind.” He conjured a larger fireball that hovered to illuminate the jutting tanzanite crystal that made up the golem’s head. “This golem’s enchantments and unique magical properties leave it highly attuned to the spiritual plane. It is my hope that she will be able to not only aid you in guarding your settlements, should the need arise, but also assist your foals with their spiritual progress as they seek to hone those special gifts your tribes alone seem to carry.”

An Older Mare whose mane and tail were grey with age, looked at the golem with clouded eyes. “If you wish for this artificial being to help, it should more closely resemble a Thestral, so that our foals and those after us don’t bristle that one that is neither full or mixed blood is teaching. It should also carry at least one moon stone. Right now, the stones you use are unfocused, unguided. If you wish to have it help and act as a warning beacon that even our Dreamers may not miss, it should have the Moon’s blessing.”

“That will have to be left to your priests and priestesses to fulfill. I haven’t the authority to give such a blessing. Unfortunately, I cannot alter her form. It wouldn’t be practical, given the original intent of her creation. She and her siblings are designed to protect against Dragon attacks and buy time for evacuation in the event of another such assault. I believed she would be of most use to you and your tribes because of the unique magical nature associated with her gemstones. However, if you feel the need to modify her to an extent, I don’t believe that will be a problem.”

“Very well,” the mare answered. “We will need to convene with our tribes, but the gift is warranted, given recent events. I assume you have copies of this golem’s specific capabilities for us?”

Yharon nodded.

“Then we will arrange for a delegation to see to the attunement and to add the moonstones into its makeup.”

“I thank you for accepting this gesture. I will make sure she is ready for the journey when your priests arrive. If there is any other way that I or Unity may be of service, please, don’t hesitate to ask. You all are very precious to Father.”

“We would request that your father join us for one of our hunts. It would mean much for the upcoming generation to see our High Chief setting an example for the rest,” the Wolf Clan delegate spoke up with a smile. “He united us under the sun, but we still live by the moon.”

“I’ll forward the invitation. Was there a particular date or time you had in mind?”

---

“Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmy—”

“Twilight! Breathe!” Vital Spark urged. “Please.” The screen had just finished revealing Gusty the Great when she met Hammer Strike at the gates of Unity.

“Huh. So, it seems Gusty wasn’t quite as great as history claims,” Grif noted.

“At least this one was deliberately ordered, instead of somepony trying to make Unicorns look better than everyone else,” Vital said.

“Wasn’t criticising,” Grif noted. “But it makes a certain amount of sense, considering how powerful the legends claim Grogar was.”

“I’m just wondering what happened to the bell. You think she’ll craft it later?” Vital asked. “You know the one I mean.”

“Probably.” Grif shrugged. “From what we just saw, a lot of the recorded story seems to be metaphors and symbolism by people who weren’t there.”

“Are either of you two going to let me in on what you’re talking about?” Twilight asked.

Grif shook his head. “Nope.”

“Let’s just say it has to do with Earth stuff and leave it at that, Twilight. You don’t have the clearance for it.”

Twilight gaped at Vital Spark for a moment, then groaned. “Not you, too.”

Vital looked inquiringly at Grif.

Pensword shook his head. “Twilight, what can you tell us about what you read in your books? After all, maybe you already know what is classified, but we can’t say anything till we know what you know.”

“Pensword, I was asking about the bell they mentioned. If I had knowledge of it, there’s no way I would have asked about it in the first place.”

“Now, now, darling, no need to get upset,” Rarity assured her.

“That makes sense,” Pensword answered, “Well I am afraid that I cannot say anything either, then.” He grinned as he looked back from the screen to the other two. “That being said, I can see why this narrative was chosen, instead. I feel we’d have more problems if the lich was the true hero.”

“Somewhat of a Torchwood scenario, as it were?” Vital asked.

“Let’s not mention that place any time inside the Tardis,” Pensword countered. “Still, I am happy Gusty got to take the light.” Then his smile widened into a grin. “But though I can’t tell you about that bell they’re discussing, I think I can tell you some legends of another bell from Earth. We call it the Liberty Bell.”

“And here we go,” Grif said with a smirk.

“Pandora’s box has been opened,” Vital Spark agreed. “Brace yourself, Twilight. You’re about to get a very in-depth lesson in US history.”

“Is that really appropriate?” Twilight countered.

Derpy shrugged as she planted another basket of muffins in the midst of her companions. “We have time.”

“And you asked about powerful bells. You’ve never been to one of my history stories with the foals that I recall, so I might as well tell you about one of the most important bells of all. And by all means, ask questions as we go.”

“Welp we’re going to be here a while.” Grif sighed. “At least no one said the T-word.”

Vital Spark shuddered. “Let’s hope no one ever does.”

Pensword smirked.

---

Magical tomes moved around the study rapidly as the mare worked at one of her many tables. Quills took notes as magic circles glowed and several magical experiments happened simultaneously. Clover the Clever was at work.

The knock at the door quickly triggered the charms to open it, and Gusty strode in sans her cape. Her mane and tail were both exceedingly long and flowing for the average Pony, and her creamy coat bore the mark of five leaves being blown by the wind as she strode in.

“If the door opened, that must mean my husband saw fit to extend a guest welcome to you. That being said, you’ll forgive me if I don’t know who you are,” Clover stated, not looking away from her work. “Please be careful not to touch anything.”

“I apologize for the intrusion. I was looking for some tomes on binding and sealing magics. The scrolls in your library are good for basic theory, but I’m afraid I needed to find something more advanced. I was told to seek you out.”

“I’m surprised. Usually, we don’t get anyone powerful enough for anything more advanced,” Clover commented. “You must have a high aptitude.”

“Ah,” Mimir spoke up from a nearby table. “So you’re Gusty. Have to say, I thought you’d be different.”

Gusty raised a curious brow. “I should be more frightened at this, and yet, somehow, I’m not. What are you, exactly?”

“Well, given what you can see, you get the general gist of things. I’m a head. The name’s Mimir, smartest stallion alive.”

“So he tells everyone that will listen,” Clover said, not yet looking away from her work. “His story tells of other ideas.”

“Oi! Just because you anomalies are around doesn’t mean I’m wrong, It just makes you all the stranger.”

“Why do you need such advanced books on sealing spells?” Clover pressed again.

“Are you familiar with my people, Lady Clover?” Gusty asked as she approached the table holding Mimir. The head was propped on top of a lush pillow to allow what semblance of comfort could be afforded the stallion.

“I am familiar with many peoples. Which people do you mean?” Clover asked as several magic circles moved in chaotic patterns around her, whirring and clicking like clockwork as they adjusted.

“The Eastern Unicorns,” Gusty clarified. “While I don’t hail from those lands, I am descended from their inhabitants, and it would be easier to explain if you have some knowledge of my people.”

“Start with a name I can use. A province? A city maybe?” Clover asked.

“As I said, I don’t come from the empire. My home was the former gilded city Tambelon.”

“Ah the artificers.” Clover nodded. “I visited the city a few times. Your people were very gifted.”

“Yes, they were.” Gusty sighed. “I wish to carry on the legacy they’ve left me. To that end, I intend to develop a means to ensure no other like Grogar or his ilk can ever succeed again.”

Clover turned toward her, eyes and horn still glowing as her experiments continued on. “That's quite an ambition. Are you sure you’re ready for that level of magic?”

“If I’m not, then I’ll become ready. If Grogar can craft that infernal bell, then I’ll craft its antithesis.”

“Have you ever had your potential tested?”

“It’s been some time, but yes.”

“And what was your rank?”

“A beta.”

“Hmm.” Clover nodded. “That won’t do. We’ll have to work on that.” She floated a potion to her. “Drink this.”

“What is it?”

“It will break down your internal field and rebuild it from the ground up, hopefully more powerful than ever.”

“It doesn’t have any effects on the mind, does it?”

“What benefit would that have? I have enough brainless fools coming around to sing my praises and lick my boots. I don’t need to create one.”

“Then that’s enough for me.” She pulled out the stopper and drank it down in one go.

Then promptly dropped as her body exploded into mind-numbing pain.

“The experience, however, is distinctly unpleasant,” Clover noted coolly as Gusty writhed on the floor. She summoned a pillow and slid it carefully under the mare’s head. “When you're done, we can start on getting you where you need to be. Until then, try not to bite off your tongue, okay?”

“Well, that could have gone differently,” Mimir spoke up.

“I find most would-be disciples tend to run away when I mention several hours of mind-numbing pain,” Clover said. “If she’s truly devoted to her task, she’ll live. If not, she’ll die. It’s entirely up to her.”

“I’d ask you to remind me never to get on your bad side, but I get the feeling you wouldn’t bother to try,” Mimir noted. “Still, could be worse.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised she drank it so easily. It tastes foul and has an aftertaste that will linger for days.” She turned back to her work. “She may be worth the effort, after all.”

“Well, she’s got quite the trials to make it there first.” Mimir paused as he looked over Gusty once more. “Ah, she’ll be fine. Clover, would you mind turning me back toward the book?”

Clover did so. “Do you need the page turned?”

“Yes, please.”

---

Celestia giggled uncontrollably as she gulped yet another cup full of mead at the table by the many barrels Luna had accumulated in the cellar. “You,” she hiccuped, “you know, Lulu, I never drank much before, but this, this is really something….”

“I’ve been working on the recipe for a while.” Luna grinned. She was still unphased, but she was only on her eighth tankard so far. “I think it has just the right amount of bite.”

“An’ it’s sweet on th’tongue.” She hiccuped again. “I haven’t been like this since, since my wedding night. Mmm … Arthur, what a hunk of stallion.” She grinned and swayed.

“I am sure you and he had quite the night.” Luna laughed.

“Can … can you believe I had to ask his horse for dating advice?”

“His horse?” Luna asked with a raised eyebrow.

“On Earth, Equines aren’t nearly so intelligent as we are. Llamrei was about the only one I could hold a proper conversation with. I think it’s because she had Unicorn blood in her, or so she claimed.”

“Sounds like you two were friends?”

“The best of friends!” Mead spilled over the table as Celestia waved with her hoof, then took a sip and frowned into the cup when she found most of it empty. “She had Sir Prance-alot pegged the,” she hiccuped again, “the minute he walked into the court.”

“That was the traitor you talked about? The one who made advances on you?”

“Eeeeyup.” Celestia belched, then proffered her cup. “Another?”

Luna's horn lit up as she took the cup from her sister and smashed it against the floor before replacing it with a half pint. “Did you kill him?”

She shook her head and cupped the half-pint between her hooves as she looked into the dark liquid. “Would’ve just made me look more guilty. They didn’t respect mares over there. Arthur, … he was special. He saw me for me, my mind, m’everything, really. Not just m’flank.”

“Sounds like he meant a lot to you.”

“I’d have given everything in that world for him. Everything.” She threw back half the drink in one pull. “I saw the blow that should have killed him. And I couldn’t do anything. I had to watch them fight. And then … I had to take his body away. Oh, Luna, I thought I lost him.” Great tears welled and streaked down her cheeks before they landed on the table with a steamy hiss.

“Did you not?” Luna asked.

“I ....” Celestia frowned as she looked at her drink. “I … don’t know.”

“Sister, what happened?”

“I don’t know, all right?” Her horn sparked and the tankard she’d been given burst apart into smoldering chunks. She gasped. “I … I’m so sorry, Luna.” Her eyes cleared. “I … I think I must have had too much. Maybe … maybe I should go.” She stood slowly and braced herself against the table as her legs wobbled.

Luna got to her sister's side and wrapped a wing around her. “Come, sister. I’ll walk you back to your room.”

Celestia leaned against the mare and sighed wearily. “Thank you, Luna. I don’t know what I’d ever do without you.”

---

The Mares and Stallions of the many tribes of the Thestrals were camped in the meadows before the forest. They were discussing strategy. Signs of a Cockatrice infestation had been mounting for some time in the forest. They knew they would need to clear it out before it became too deeply ingrained and threw off the balance of game. Mixed with them were the forms of Fruit Thestrals. They served primarily at the cook fires making food and helping maintain weapons while sucking fresh fruits dry. They were more brightly colored than their normal brethren but all were waiting for their High Chief to make an appearance.

It was at that point in which Hammer Strike pulled himself from the shadows into the encampment.

The Thestrals turned as one to look at his entrance before they went back to their tasks as a few of the leaders for the hunting band walked up.

“High Chief, it is wonderful to meet you under our Lady’s moonlight. We’ve been keeping things silent, but the forest has a nest of cockatrices that could present some dangers to your day dwellers, as well as forgerers. It is a blessing for us to have a foe that would need group hunting. Where in the fight would you like to be?”

Hammer Strike shrugged. “I’ll likely be on overwatch, dealing with any that attempt to sneak by.”

“Very well, but if we need backup, please be aware that overwatch will be called in. But now that the formalities are out of the way, come, join us for a meal. It’s a shame cockatrice meat is so deadly. Otherwise, we’d feast on our kills tonight, too.”

Hammer Strike hummed in thought. “I wonder if I could make it edible...”

“If you do, we hope you share the secret. Our people despise wasting food, and the cockatrice does not provide much in the way of other materials to use in our arts.” The mare smiled. “But come, let us eat. We can speak of other such things later.”

Hammer Strike nodded and gestured for her to lead.

She guided him to one of the larger fires. “Allow me to introduce one of our cooks and lore keepers, Moonlight Strawberry.”

The cook waved a hoof as she sucked on an apple. She was completely red, a rarity among most of the other Thestrals.

Hammer Strike was given a bowl of very good stew with ingredients from around his kingdom, thanks to trading and farmlands, along with some kind of cured meat. After the meal, the hunters gathered and split off into three hunting parties with another two staying behind to protect the home camp.

Hammer Strike found himself standing overwatch on the lead hunting party heading towards the heart of the problem. To try and flush out and destroy the den, as well as to make sure nothing really circled back on them or escaped.

“North-west from us,” Hammer Strike hummed quietly. “They haven’t sensed our presence.”

The Thestrals made a few animal night calls as they spread the information around. He sensed some of the cockatrice sentries being silenced. But it was slowly moving closer and tightening the noose. There would be chaos soon. But right now… they wanted to make sure that no Cockatrice would escape. The other Thestrals looked at Hammer Strike, waiting for the go order to attack the Den.

After a few still seconds, Hammer Strike nodded his head and the calls all sounded around the Den. The cockatrices woke with a start, but they couldn’t rouse fast enough. They were cut down brutally, and while some tried to use back doors and other means of escape, Hammer Strike’s wards were able to track them down, and the den was cleared out. When all was said and done, he entered the den to view the damage.

They found many stone victims from small to large animals, and even sadly a few sentient victims as well. The others looked to him for what to do with the statues.

“Give me a moment,” Hammer Strike walked up to one of the small statues and scanned it over thaumically.

“What are you doing, High Chief?” a younger Thestral asked as he watched the stallion work.

“I should be able to restore everything from their current state.” Hammer Strike hummed as he placed the statue down and blue fire surrounded his free hoof. Moments passed before the stone finally dissolved around the small critter and it sprung to life once more.

The Squirrel looked around before seeing the Thestrals. Then it chittered and scampered out of the cave. The other Thestrals looked at Hammer Strike in bewilderment for a time, then quickly began to gather the victims together for the stallion to revert and free to inhabit the forest once more.

“Those who are currently without a task, search for any additional statues while I restore these,” Hammer Strike called out as he got to work.

Those Thestrals who weren’t already gathering those in this portion of the den quickly delved deeper. The sound of smashing eggs and other destructive acts echoed back from the passage while others grunted as they worked together to take those statues they could to be tended by Hammer Strike. Tonight was truly a time to celebrate not only the restoration of life, but the affirmation of their leader’s greatness.

---

Gusty groaned as she finally came back into consciousness. Her head throbbed, particularly at the base of her horn, and her mouth felt dryer than a desert. She opened her eyes and instantly regretted it as daylight streamed into her sensitive pupils. “I’m alive,” she finally managed to croak.

“Yes, you are. Congratulations,” a familiar voice spoke as a jug of water floated toward her.

“I feel like my head is about to split open.” She sipped the water slowly, grateful to have refreshment after what must have been some time. “How long was I unconscious?”

“Thirteen hours, five minutes, and six seconds,” Clover responded.

“You … were that thorough?”

“Magic is thorough in its very nature,” Clover stated. “Measure nine times, cut once, as the craftsmen say.”

“I thought it was twice?”

“Not from the ones I know,” Clover noted.

It hurt to chuckle, but Gusty couldn’t help it. “I have the feeling this will be a very interesting relationship, assuming my magic capability hasn’t been completely destroyed by your poison,” she said with a playful smile.

“Well, technically it was completely destroyed. It was just put back together afterwards,” Mimir spoke up.

Gusty rolled her eyes. “I see he has no sense of humor.”

“Oi.” Mimir frowned. “It’s just too refined for you lot.”

“Mimir is very old.” Clover sighed. “He’s lost touch with a lot. As for your magic, it seems to be intact. How strong it is now is what we need to discover.”

“After this headache is past. Right now, I feel like my horn is ready to fall off.”

“Any power that is gained without strife isn’t really worth gaining,” Clover stated. “Too many Unicorns try to find the straightest path and give up too much in the process.”

“And would you say that I fall in that category? I did just take a potion for the express purpose of increasing my magical potential.”

“And you suffered for it,” Clover said. “You didn’t give up your soul or your sanity for knowledge people don’t need to know. You suffered pain for power, and you came out still intact.”

“Then I suppose we will see where this journey takes us. For now, though, Lady Clover, might I trouble you for some more water?”

Clover’s horn flashed as the jug refilled. “You’d better recover quickly, then, because we are only getting started.”

Gusty nodded. “Good. I look forward to the challenge.”

“You say that now,” Mimir muttered to himself as he focused back on the book in front of him.

---

Binding sighed as he strode into the fifth book shop in town. The attendant was an eager colt with a carefully coiffed golden mane. A homemade focus hewn from a tree limb of some sort was topped by a polished blue stone.

“Lord Binding, it truly is an honor to have you coming to our store.” He shook the older stallion’s hoof ecstatically.

“While I do appreciate your enthusiasm, young colt, I need to speak with your master on a matter of some urgency. Is she here?”

“In the back room, Sir. She’s been expecting you.”

Binding nodded. “Thank you.” Then he smiled. “If you’re looking to improve your skills, I recommend starting by composing incantations. Learn to synchronize your mana with the land, and you’ll be surprised at what spells it has to teach you.”

The colt needed little more encouragement. One excited whinny later, the starry-eyed colt was sitting at the counter with pen poised as he stared at a fresh piece of parchment. Binding chuckled to himself as he passed through the curtain into the room beyond. It was always refreshing to see the foundations of the future being laid.

The back room was filled with the familiar scent of ink, dust, and paper that had come to be the Unicorn’s constant companions these past decades, along with his close friends. Magical circles rounded each of the book shelves and cubbies to preserve the documents within while sigils and runes assisted with organization and summoning. Deeper still, Binding finally found the mare in question.

Morgiana Wayfinder was a taller mare with no ideas at pretension. Her purple robe was simple in its weave and homespun. She preferred comfort over fashion and knowledge over influence. In short, she was just the kind of mare that Binding liked to interact with. A pile of books and a stack of pages lay neatly on a side table while a teapot steamed next to some cookies, awaiting the mage.

“It’s been a while, Binding.” She smiled and motioned toward the other end of the table. “Care to join me for some tea?”

Binding smiled ruefully as he sat on the other side. “How long has it been since the last time I saw you?”

“Oh, I’d say about a decade, at least.” Fringes of gray streaked through her mane as she sipped her beverage. “Would that we could meet under happier circumstances. You know how I feel about doing this to books.”

“Hammer Strike has his reasons,” Binding assured her.

“I know.” She shuddered as she looked at the side table. “There are better ways to sustain life. Far better. I wish that those alchemists could see that.”

Binding smiled ruefully. “No one is immune from the desire to keep living, Morgiana. And more than a few would prefer to do so in a young and vibrant state.” He bit into a cookie, then sipped from his cup. “It can be a blessing at times, but as a whole, I believe it carries more disadvantages than advantages.” He peered intently at the stacks. “It’s that brief time we have that allows us to move forward in the first place. We change. Gods don’t.” He smiled. “Take your young apprentice, for example.”

Morgiana sighed and rolled her eyes. “Rudy didn’t try to have you teach him anything, did he?”

Binding chuckled and shook his head. “No. And he didn’t boast about himself either, unlike a certain young mare I remember.”

Morgiana blushed. “That was a long time ago.”

“Isn’t it curious how those memories are always the ones that stay with us longest?”

“Humiliation is good for the soul when you take it the right way. But it still burns.” She took another sip and sampled a cookie.

“A good thing you chose to learn from it, rather than spurn it, then, isn’t it?”

“A word of advice to you, Binding, though I’m sure Hammer Strike is already aware of it. Book collectors and alchemists don’t appreciate having to do this. For some of us, removing this kind of knowledge is a crime.”

“It’s either removing that information or taking the books in their entirety. Of the two, this is the lesser evil.”

“Is he trying to make a stone himself?”

Binding shook his head. “The very mention of such a possibility will cause the temperature in the room to rise by five degrees, should he be present to overhear it. If I had to guess, he may have found the answer to the age-old pursuit, and found that answer wanting.”

“Wanting would not lead to this level of seizure.”

“Deplorable, then. There are few things I’ve seen that can visibly cause him to appear angry, Morgiana. This is one of them.” He shuddered. “Gods help whoever is foolish enough to actually try to make one.”

“Would he actually be able to tell?”

“Knowing him, it’s a distinct possibility. After all these years, especially his dealing with the Dragons, I wouldn’t put anything past his capabilities.”

“It may be advisable for him to give a proclamation to the kingdom as a whole as well.”

“I’ve brought it up with him. We’re hoping that the general populace will get the intent behind the action, but it is likely a law will be formally drafted and codified within the next week or two to make it official.”

“I’m sure that will make you and your friends very busy over the next few months.”

Binding chuckled and finished his cookie. “Didn’t you know, Morgiana? We’re always busy.”

---

Cheers and song could be heard from all corners of the Adventurer’s Guild. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and vegetables. Ale flowed from casks, and tankards were happily emptied and refilled constantly. Songs, poems and loud roars filled every inch of the atmosphere. Ponies of all tribes, Minotaurs, Gryphons, Hippogriffs, and all manner of Equestrians had gathered to celebrate as a new plaque was mounted to the wall, upon which sat the head and antlers of the wendigo that had been attacking the northern settlements for the past few months.

A tall, well-built Thestral with scaled armor sat at the head table and smiled at the revelry. He rose to his hooves and blew on a milky ribboned horn that blared over the gathering and called for silence.

“Many years ago, this land was plagued by shadows and terrors the likes of which could strike fear into the hearts of any person to confront it. Worse still, that person would not be granted the decency of a proper death, but be raised in a twisted pantomime of life. Possession, zombification, demonic pacts. These and many more held our people in a constant state of terror.” He smiled. “But now look how far we have come together. Creatures of the night cower. Malevolent spirits are bound and exorcised. And it has been my honor to join with you, my brothers and sisters, in this noblest of hunts.”

The room filled with the uproar of the guild’s approval. The Thestral raised his hooves, and the room fell to silence again.

“Tonight, we gather to celebrate the casting out of one such spirit, and putting to rest the poor soul that couldn’t be saved. We gather in memory of that soul and all the souls before it that were forced to follow that same path. And we gather in honor of the souls whose fire burned bright enough to set that victim free. Eld’gar Bloodhoof, Whisper Sting, Sonia Freecaller, and Fran Germaine stand forward!”

A burly minotaur in heavy plate armor tromped to the guildmaster’s table, flanked by a black-furred Thestral wrapped in tight black cloth. A bone whip hung at her side, complemented by knife belts and pouches with various concoctions for her trade. A mare with a golden mane and an orange coat strode forward to join them. She wore a white habit and robe bedecked with the sigils of both Faust and Sleipnir. A long metal staff lay across her back. The eight legs of Sleipnir curved over the edge of the setting where a pale white orb hovered. The golden sharp blade at the base of the staff was reminiscent of the nib of a quill, and metallic feathers inlaid with the staff complemented the base to represent the goddess. A dim glow from the runes that had been engraved on them hinted at their magical nature and the potential for a hidden use. Lastly, the clop of hooves mingled with the clattering scrape of talons as a young Hippogriff with white hindquarters and the same regal bearing that all her Gryphon forebears seemed to carry stepped forward. A pair of hand axes lay within easy reach, and a black war hammer rested across her back that complemented the red leather armor and dark steel plates that protected her from harm.

“You four have fought long and hard to join our ranks. You’ve trained in these halls, cut your teeth in the surrounding lands, and now have claimed what I hope to be the first of many kills to come.” He turned to the side, where a smiling Gryphon held a pillow that supported four metal pieces. “In recognition of your service and commemoration of your deeds, it is my honor, privilege, and duty to bestow you with the rank of bronze adventurer.” He pulled a knife from side and pricked each of the guild members to drop blood on their respective plates. “These are now bound to you, as a sign of recognition in service to the kingdom and the guild. Wear them proudly. Wear them well.” He pinned each clip to the adventurers, then smiled as he hovered above the table. “Three cheers to our newest heroes!”

“It is an honor, guildmaster,” the Hippogriff said with a bow as the room erupted once more. The other three smiled or blushed in turn as they were welcomed into the fold.

“Tonight, we celebrate. Tomorrow, we return to business as usual. Eat. Drink. Be merry!”

And so they were.

---

The air rang with demented laughter as silver bayonettes flew indiscriminately through the arena. They crashed against the magical barrier that had been erected as the crowds within Sleipnir’s temple roared.

“Now here’s a match I’ve been waiting for for a long time. Say your prayers, you bloody heathen.” Anderson’s teeth were bared in a vicious grin as he strafed the arena.

“A Faustian priest blessed by Sleipnir, fighting in a temple of Sleipnir, calling me a heathen.” Tarefson waved a hoof. “Isn’t hypocrisy against your goddess’ laws?”

“On the contrary. I acknowledge Sleipnir’s existence. He’s her bloody father, after all.” Two more bayonets crossed as they sparked against the vampire’s metal crossbow. “Just think of this as keeping friendly relations.”

“And? Lord’s real. I don’t see you acknowledging the nine hells as a valid choice of theological dedication.” Tarefson chuckled as he held Anderson back, then shoved him over the dirt six feet.

“The nine hells consume souls, and they always get their due. You got lucky when you swore yourself to Hammer Strike. How long do you think that luck’ll hold for you here?” Anderson flared his wings to gust the dust of the arena and cracked his head against Anderson’s skull.

“Given the father of your god favors him, I’d say pretty good.” Tarefson chuckled, matching Anderson in force.

“Then we’d best get to it, hadn’t we?” The flutter of golden pages scattered around, and Anderson disappeared. His voice echoed ethereally as he recited, “Serve the Lady with fear and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the daughter, lest the father be angry, and ye perish from the way when his wrath is kindled but a little.”

“You know I much prefer the Sleipnirian scriptures. ‘Stomp his flank’ and ‘kick his teeth in’ always resonated better with me,” alucard said as he eyed his surroundings carefully.

A hail of bayonets rained from above in an attempt to skewer the vampire. A few skewered him in the flank and grazed his legs, but the vampire only chuckled as necrotic energy seethed from his wounds, pushing the bayonets out and sealing them.

“Oh, come on, Tarefson, don’t tell me you’re going soft on me now.” He laughed. “Or are you telling me those lucky charms are actually working?”

“I told you if the leprechaun dies, the luck fades.” Tarefson chuckled.

“Then I guess we’ll just have to make our own, won’t we?” His glasses gleamed, and his perfectly white teeth seemed almost to glow as the battle frenzy began to settle in in earnest.

“Oh, now it’s getting good!” Tarefson grinned as necrotic energy bled out around him in a sickly aura.

The arena was filled with a wind generated by the sheer will of the two competitors, so perfectly matched were their wavelengths. And then they clashed in the dance of death, communing silently in the perfect harmony that their opposites made.

And the congregation rejoiced.

---

Gusty frowned as she reviewed the tomes floating around her, then nodded as she inscribed what appeared to be a simple pattern. Eight separate ovals stretched like petals, overlapping in the very center in a manner not unlike a venn diagram. A circle was drawn about them, and she nodded in satisfaction over the core.

“It’s not much, but it’s a start,” she muttered. “Preparing the totems themselves will take some time, though.”

“It seems well thought out. Have you added a formula for combating entropy?”

“That’s the main focus of the spellweave itself. The artifacts will each draw on each other to sustain themselves and the bell. They’ll only be able to be destroyed if they’re all together in one place.” She frowned. “I may need to find a place of power to make it work, though, somewhere that can handle that kind of influx of energies and keep them under control during the crafting.”

“So you want them to create a feedback loop amongst each other?” Clover asked.

“To match the power in the bell, yes. I may not ever be able to create something to destroy that thing, but I can at least craft something that can fight it to a standstill and keep it there.”

“So you're intending to make a magical cascade in order to counteract its power.” Clover nodded. “You’re going to need a lot of materials for that.”

“Yes. And I’ll need the enchantments in each artifact to be something unique to tie into the final product’s magic and shape.”

“Which is more difficult by the fact you don’t know what that product is yet.”

“Given my unique cultural heritage, I was considering the old adage. An eye for an eye. Or in this case, a bell for a bell. They have a unique connection to the spiritual plane, and would have the highest probability of producing magic on a wavelength that can neutralize whatever Grogar’s bell can muster.

“Yes, but you haven’t made the bell yet. You don’t know its magical identity or its sigil. Therefore, you’re going to be tieing the enchantments to an unknown variable.”

“In the end, yes,” Gusty agreed. “However, that formula won’t have to be formed until the moment of the bell’s creation. Much like when crafting a potion, one requires the base ingredients first. I believe if I focus on the construction of each artifact as a separate project, I can then tie them together as the reagents necessary for the forging of the final artifact.

“Well, you’ve certainly thought it through.”

“Are you going to suggest we ask Mimir’s opinion next?”

“He’d read the formulas better than I would with his eyes,” Clover noted.

“True. Has he ever told you how he got those things in the first place?”

“No, and I haven't asked him.” Clover shrugged. “After living with Hammer Strike for so long, there are some things I don’t want to know.”

“Given Master Gown has sworn loyalty to King Strike as his superior, I suppose I must agree with you.” Gusty frowned. “How disappointing.” She shrugged in turn. “But I am not unfamiliar with such sensations. Was there anything you needed me to assist you with, Lady Clover?”

“No. You’re free to see to whatever you need, Gusty.”

Gusty nodded as she gathered up her notes and materials. “I’ll keep you updated on my progress. For now, I have aspects to ponder.”

Comments

[The_Chill_Author]

Merry Christmas!

[Booster Spice]

Hammerstrike essentially brought about the end of Kaiju, leaving maybe Torch or his family line as the main remaining better behaved dragons?

If Ainz had so much effort with Shaltear, then the even more capable resourced Ainz against untrained Grogar had more difficulty because being untrained, Grogar used methods in such ways that Ainz wasnt preprepared to combat and so had to ajust on the fly?

Gutsy working on Eightfold Way has many equivalents in science and literature. One is the eight spikes of Chaos, another is the eight toroids injected at regular intervales into a self stabilising vortex sphere, or even Monster Lie Group E8, and the communication coding principle derived from it.

If you look at the colour wheel, and place grey along the axis, then from the hexagon with an axel, a rotation turns the form into a cube. Of course, if the hexagon is The Elements, then the two bells, Rainbow of Light and Darkness, form the axel?

[drFraud]

Why does it feel like Pensword is constantly lagging behind everyone. The only thing he is at this point is a decent historian. I can only hope in the future he will be able to step up with the rest of the greats again but I doubt it.

[DoctorWhoooves]

“I told you if the leprechaun dies, the luck fades.” Tarefson chuckled.

This, MADE the chapter for me. Their always after his lucky charms.

[Grif_Bladefeather]

10607815
yes

[Rosedeath22]

I'm finally caught up Yes!

Keep up the great work Heart!!