//------------------------------//
// Chapter 13: Expeditions and Conspiracies 
// Story: Havoc 
// by Histy 
//------------------------------//

Aurora sat in the war tent, waiting for scouts to return with the news on the Yaks' proximity to the army she commanded.

Her Goddess deemed it appropriate to send a phalanx to conquer the Yaks, with Aurora to command them. Aurora was surprised when the Goddess soon became very straight-forward with the fact that the whole purpose of the conquest was to prove her worth to Zerstörung's plans. With her position of Legata, Aurora had thought that she had already gained the Goddess' favor, but she had guessed wrong, it seems.

So she left with all that in mind. She knew that everything concerning her was at stake in this conquest. Even one little thing that the Goddess disapproved of could end her. To say that she wasn't fearful of her future would most definitely be a lie. And she kept thinking back to how she could please Zerstörung with her work. Perhaps being brutal was the best option, but also the most predictable. She could spare most of the Yaks, giving the excuse that they could be useful as warriors. To Aurora, either idea was enticing, but she wasn't sure if it was the same for the Goddess.

Either way, everything was at stake here, at least for the daughter of Trajan. She  sat alone in the war tent, fiddling around with the toy-sized models of allies and enemies that occupied the table baring maps and other essentials for planning battles. In her mind, she was constantly contemplating one question time and time again.

What would her father do? It's not the first time she's asked that question, and probably won't be the last. The cat-like humanoid always felt she had no sense of direction. After her father had passed, Stiermann was often the one who took care of her and gave her life advice, while Baron, in the minotaur's words, "Remained a selfish, arrogant piece of shit". That didn't mean that the dark knight never helped her. He still gave her advice, and trained the cat-like humanoid how to use her father's (now her) staff appropriately, no matter how harsh he was in doing so.

But Baron wasn't here. Stiermann wasn't here. Her father wasn't here. And the Goddess definitely wasn't going to waste any precious time helping her. It seemed independence was certainly something one can look forward to, but fear all the same. And Aurora feared it. She feared it a lot. How was she supposed to do all of this on her own?

Aurora shook her head. No. Now wasn't the time to for this. She's going to conquer the Yaks, and show her Goddess that she can do something! That she can conquer regions in her name! That she could fight like a warrior! Her whole life has been waiting for this moment!

"Legata."

Aurora yelped, startled by the sudden entry. She threw the models in all kinds of directions, looking at the individual who entered with a panicked look on her features.

"Spartiate! I wasn't playing with those, I swear! Don't tell the Imperatrix about this!"

The Spartiate, a blue unicorn, had a look of indifference, as Aurora always recognized he had ever since the expedition had started. She herself had to admit that, along with the facial scars, thick eyebrows and piercing yellow eyes, he was quite an intimidating figure.

He ignored the Legata's pleas, instead opting to a conversation with more importance, "Scouts have found the Yaks. According to them, they are at least 21 kilometers from us."

Aurora stayed silent for a moment. She soon found her words, "And... what do you suggest we do, then?"

"If it were up to me? I'd say we launch a frontal assault. They don't expect us to, and with them far more weaker than they were before, I have full confidence that this will work."

"... So, in other words, you want me to send this entire army straight into battle, against an enemy I heard had far more strength than a pony to the point where even numbers cannot stop them?"

"Those were the stories before, but as I said, they're much less numerous and do not expect a war, as they wouldn't make themselves so vulnerable if they were."

Ah. So that's why he said frontal assault. The Yaks have been at peace ever since the Crystal Empire had disappeared, making them lower their guard enough to where a frontal assault could actually work, if Aurora maintained the element of surprise. So the question was...

"At what time could the attack be launched and cause complete surprise?"

The Spartiate hummed for a moment, thinking. He then answered, "I believe a night attack would suffice. The Yaks would all be asleep, and would never expect a whole army to reign death upon them."

The Legata knew he was correct. Everyone slept at night, and certainly no one ever expected death to befall them during sleep, even those who were heavily ill.

"We attack at midnight," she finally declared.

The Spartiate saluted, "I shall bring the news to all of the Praefectors," he began to take his leave, but stopped short of exiting the tent. He turned back to the Legata, the cat-like humanoid now noticing a smirk on his muzzle, "oh, and don't worry. You're secret is safe with me."

Aurora sputtured, trying to respond, but the Spartiate left before she could. The Legata then cursed to herself, throwing her head into her hands, and emitting a loud groan.

She can't do this.





"May I ask you something, My Lady?"

My bored expression turned to one of curiosity as I shifted on my throne, turning my attention to Ink Writer, "A question? That's something you never have."

"I know that, My Lady."

"Whatever. Ask away."

"Well, I was wondering if-"

"But before you ask your question," I interrupted, "know that you'll be held accountable for what you speak. So tread carefully, otherwise you will not be of any more use to me."

Ink bowed briefly, before continuing, "I have been wondering, My Lady. Have you ever considered finding a mate?"

I did a double-take. A mate? Why would I ever need one? The so-called "love" and "passion" that came with them would get in the way, and hinder my plans. The only time I ever considered it was with Apophis, but turned out he didn't seem to care much about me as I did about him. Asshole.

"No, nor will I ever," I answered.

Ink stayed silent for a moment, before bowing his head, "That's a shame, then."

Just then, a magic bolt crashed into the throne, next to my head I might add. So sudden was this event, that it actually startled me for a moment.

My startled stupor ended quickly, however, as eons old instincts took over. If they shoot one, then they'll shoot more of them. My thoughts rang true as I jumped off the throne to the floor, dodging three more magic bolts, staff in hand. With my valuable weapon in my grasp, this little attempt to kill me would be ended with a simple tap.

I unfortunately didn't expect Ink to tackle me with such brute force that it made me drop my staff.

We rolled for a moment before Ink secured dominance on top of me. His eyes had the look of one who had just taken in a prize. He was conjuring magic in his horn, smiling. Even I would say that the smile he had was disturbing. It was the look of someone who had gotten what they always wanted, except with more malice than joy.

"You know, I never realised how pretty you are," he breathed, a voice of want overcoming him, "and with you magicless without that little staff of yours, I can do whatever I want with you," his tone and words made me realize what he wanted to do.

Pretty. I hated that word. And not for the reasons you would think a Goddess of Havoc would. I had very good reasons for it.

*

"Let me go!" I shouted as I struggled.

The man's grip only tightened. He smiled, "Now now, what's a pretty little girl like you doing wandering around alone? Don't you have a master?"

Before I could respond, he interrupted, "Not that it matters if you do. I'm sure he wouldn't mind me giving you a try."

I gulped. There was nothing I can do, nothing I could do. No one was going to help me, a little slave girl who was worth nothing. There was no profit in that. Who would sacrifice whatever reputation they had to help a lowly slave? I knew none.

I was so helpless, so small, so...

*

Weak.

The word echoed in my head. I was weak. I was a lowly slave, only there to serve when my master desired me to.

Was.

That's not who I am now. I am a Goddess. I am the master now. I decide what is right and wrong. My word is law. And I'll be damned if I let some mortal treat me like a weak-willed slave ever again.

Ink continued whispering about what he was going to to me. He was so preoccupied with doing that, I realized, that he left my hands free. Meaning that I could grab his horn and block its magical flow.

I sprung to action. My left hand latched onto the horn in less than a second. Ink's reaction was one of surprise, him fully not expecting that I still had resistance in me. 

But despite his magic flow being blocked, he kept trying to funnel magic through it. Heat began to build up in his horn, my hand feeling the increased temperature. He was trying to burn my hand off his horn, I realised. I also realised Ink seemed to put so much focus on getting his horn free that he virtually left himself defenseless. I was proven correct when my attempt to get him off me succeeded easily.

Now with the way open, I dashed for my staff. My speed carried me to my destination before I even realised it.

Just like old times.

I was able to pick my staff in time to deflect the retaliatory magic bolt Ink had released, it harmlessly flying through one of the throne room's windows. In an instant, Ink's expression changed from want and anger, to something I very well recognized.

Fear.

He began to look around, as if trying to find a way to escape. He won't. I'll make sure of it.

Now, with my new advantage, I teleported I'm front of him. My intention to frighten him further succeeded, as he yelped and fell to the cold floor with a thud. He tried his best to scoot away from me, but I stepped forward every time, making the distance between us remain the same.

"You're fear delights me, mortal," I declared, addressing him for what he was, "so I might cherish it if you tell me one thing."

"I will not tell you anything, you bitch!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. He flinched when his back contacted with the wall.

"Now, now," I mocked, "I was a dog once, but I'm afraid I am no longer a part of their group," Ink's look changed to confusion after that statement, but only for a few seconds, as fear once again took priority.

I knelt in front of him, levelling his eye-level with mine.

"Now, you will tell me," I growled, "if there is anyone else involved in your little plan."

Now realising his inevitable fate, his face hardened, "Never."

"You don't seem to realise," I said, my staff's brightness intensifying, "that never is today."

Ink's eyes narrowed, bravery or stupidity taking him over, "Never means never," he then spitted on my face, "bitch."

I wiped his spit off my face, rage beginning to come over me. This... mortal, is starting to get on my nerves. And mortals who do that don't stay alive for long.

The atmosphere in the throne room took a noticeable change, I felt my eyes begin to glow a deathly orange, my fury beginning to show itself.

"You dare, mortal?" I growled in a demonic tone, "You dare desecrate my name, insult me, and spit your disgusting saliva on me?"

Once again, fear overcame Ink's features, "U-uh... yes?"

In a swift motion, I buried the bottom end of my staff through his abdomen. Ink shrieked in pain. I then yanked my staff out, letting his blood surge through the wound, causing him to release a blood-curdling scream. It must feel absolutely painful. Poor thing.

"Doing such an act is unforgivable, mortal," I stated, But I might let it pass if you tell me who was involved in your little plan."

"General Golden Arrow! It's him! He's been wanting you dead since you came! Please don't kill me!" he was begging quite a lot. How embarrassing.

"Good boy~" I purred, "You have served well, however since you told me all I wanted, I'm afraid you no longer have any use to me."

"W-what?" Ink stuttered.

I raised my staff, a sinister smile becoming visible on my face.

"Goodbye, Ink Writer."

"Wait!" he attempted, but his plea fell upon deaf ears.

In a move of finality, my staff slammed on the throne room floor. Almost instantly, Ink Writer's head viciously twisted and bended, instantly killing him. It then fell to the floor with an audible thud.

Now with Ink finished off, I set out to find this "General" Arrow person. I want to have a little "chat" with him and his accomplices, even if I have to force my way through his own men to do so.

I smirked. Time for some purging.