//------------------------------// // Useful Ponies // Story: The Moaning Top Incident // by Visiden Visidane //------------------------------// The Imperial Principles of Slavery within Ophidus First Principle: Loyalty. Your slaves must be obedient. This is the first principle as, without this, the rest is impossible. They cannot be your property if you cannot make use of them. Our Empire has developed multiple ways to obtain loyalty: manipulation, intimidation, substances, conditioning. Use all of them. Be consistent with both punishments and rewards. Always look for problematic slaves and execute them as examples. Do not be stingy with rewards. Make them eager to please you and frightened of angering you. Give them the hope that they can improve their lot under you and they will submit. Corner them with a grim fate and they will sell their lives dearly. Show mercy on occasion. If they have spent enough time as slaves, they will love you for the smallest gestures. Second Principle: Maintenance. Feed your slaves. Shelter them, clothe them, and keep them free of disease and parasites. Provide for them the tools they need for their tasks. A dull blade cannot cut, a shattered shield cannot protect, and an unhealthy slave cannot fulfil tasks, nor be delicious and nutritious. This is not done out of love or compassion, but out of prudence. Do not indulge your slaves lest they become indolent and rebellious, but do not abuse them without cause only to express surprise if they fail their tasks. Third Principle: Responsibility. Your slaves are your property. Whatever they have stolen, you have stolen. Whomever they have attacked, you have attacked. For their crimes, you will pay the appropriate fine. If they have committed a grave enough crime, you will be executed along with them. Control your slaves at all times. The Empire holds the right to confiscate them if you are proven an incompetent master. Do not muddle this principle by involving yourself with a slave in an improper and unnatural manner, even if the slave is a fellow ophidite. Such relationships that blur the place of master and slave will be punished by heavy fines, the disallowance of owning or even being near slaves, and the offender must submit to assessment by the Imperial Registry as a deviant. Fourth Principle: Expendability. No slave is worth a citizen’s life and a citizen is free to make use of their property as they see fit whether it is as protection against danger, a subject for experimentation, or a fine meal. Know that the Empire frowns upon needless wastefulness. Avoid redundant experiments, and do not wantonly kill your slaves. The enslavement of citizens of neighbouring nations draws their wrath, and it is our Imperial troops that deal with them. Do not make light of the price you and others have paid for your property. Fifth Principle: Freedom and Citizenship. Third generation slaves and onwards have the right to petition for Imperial Citizenship after twenty years of service starting from birth and the completion of a major task for the Empire. All slave owners are required to register and maintain genealogy papers for their slaves. Failure to do so or attempting to prevent such a petition will result in heavy fines and confiscation of slaves. This includes the eating of slaves close to meeting the requirements. Slaves with successful petitions are henceforth free as Imperial Citizens. Freeing slaves without following this process will be punished with execution. Nefszen hadn’t expected the Legion withdrawal. True, facing Safaszan as of the moment would be too dangerous, but they could overwhelm her if they threw themselves into the task. She was in the throes of a prideful rage. The risk may have increased, but so would the number of openings. Though, that might just be the Imperial tactician in him. Ponies, particularly low-ranking slaves, were expendable after all. He wouldn’t mind if they all died whittling down Safaszan’s power, but they likely thought otherwise. The sight of the legionnaires falling back seemed to calm Safaszan a bit. That her foes fled before her might have mollified her pride somewhat. Her wild swings with her massive sword ceased, and her barrage of spells slowed. Her head swivelled, clearly assessing the situation. She was going to flee. It was clear that she was trapped like a rat here. A short range teleport was her only option. Once outside this cramped cave, she would have to escape. Each path would carry risks for her. Illusions would not be as effective now that the Legion was in full alert. She could transform, but changing into a less powerful form would make it easier to kill her. Flying away would be even more dangerous. The legionnaires with them, despite having never encountered a tikhana, should know this. Indeed, they seemed to be relying on it. That could only mean that there were more legionnaires outside. “Shall we continue working with them, Captain?” Tasimyssa asked as she sidled next to Nefszen. He nodded, then subtly gestured for his slaves to keep moving. Some legionnaires were trying to direct pony civilians out, a difficult challenge when these ponies were just as terrified of them as the tikhana. More so when a few tossed rocks and spat. Nefszen focused on finding the leader of this troop, or at least the one leading the separate group he went in with. Despite the chaos, he swiftly found what he was looking for. It helped that a flash of powerful magic erupted just out the corner of his eye, followed by a sudden draft of bitterly cold wind. A short distance from Safaszan was both the leader of this whole troop and the one Nefszen had followed. ‘By the Emperor,’ Nefszen thought, ‘must they start fighting each other at this time?’ The leader appeared dead, and the one they had followed, Plowshare, was focused on a berserk unicorn mare instead of leading the way out or fighting Safaszan. The mare charged, screaming something unintelligible at the other unicorn while Plowshare held her back. Her horn flashed and sputtered, but no spell burst forth. This one did not have a fighter’s instincts and reflexes. She had no attack spells at the forefront to cast as a reflex as all unicorn magi that Nefszen ever encountered did. Rage clouded her mind and scattered her thoughts. She cast in a fury, but without anything to truly focus on. Foolish ponies...their civilians had the nerve to attack soldiers on official business. Even a coatl would not consider attacking the Imperial Army so lightly. These ponies had no business running a nation with this sort of citizenry. The other unicorn in this scene, the one whose magic clearly caused the blast of cold, was concentrating on another spell. This wasn’t the time or place for this. Nefszen rushed towards them and shouted. “The ophidite is about to escape! Save this execution for later, and move on to intercept!” The unicorn mage paused at least, and glanced at Nefszen’s way. “This is not your concern, ranger,” he said. “Unlike the South and its pony slavers, the West does not tolerate traitors.” Foolish pony. As if imperial agents didn’t exist in Western Equestria, or that the Southern Legion was so easily infiltrated compared to them. Nefszen bit back his ophidite retorts. He was a ranger right now, though he might need a vipren’s skill in motivating ponies as well. When the unicorn continued to channel his spell, Nefszen grasped his horn. “Control your bloodlust, legionnaire,” he hissed. “You can slaughter citizens any time you want, but you won’t cost us our prey!” “Away from me!” the unicorn growled. To his credit, he did refocus on Safaszan, then gestured towards Plowshare. They had to move. Plowshare struggled with the berserk mare he held back. When it was clear that there was no reasoning with or moving her, he let go, only to smash the butt of his enormous spear into the back of her head. With the mare unconscious and splayed across his back, Plowshare led the way for the withdrawal. The rest of the legionnaires swiftly picked up on this example, using more force to herd the remaining civilians out. Safaszan’s ceremonial weapon shifted from the angry crackle of offensive evocations to the softer, utilitarian glow of a teleportation spell. Nefszen concentrated on a divination counter. Safaszan’s sheer mass should delay her teleport. That should provide him some extra time to determine her destination. To his surprise, the unicorn next to him was also concentrating. Perhaps, this one wasn’t so stupid after all. Safaszan had picked the northwestern face of the mountain, the steepest out of all of them. Perhaps, she did bank on her flying after all. At least, to lose some of her pursuers. “It’s going to the northwestern face,” the unicorn said with a slight smirk. “Good, our reinforcements are quite close. We just need to signal them.” “Let’s move then, Westerner,” Nefszen replied. “If she escapes, the South will never forget your incompetence.” “Speak for yourself, ranger,” the unicorn retorted. “It’s your Legion that will be under fire again for relying on the West to deal with Ophidus.” Short range teleportation spells were in order. For the unicorn, at least. He must have plenty of strength to spare and a good enough knowledge of the mountain. Nefszen didn’t want to risk it. Teleportation errors were too dangerous, and would interfere with the spells already upon him. Once again, he found himself moving at a hurried pace with Plowshare and a group of legionnaires. His own troops followed silently behind them. “What do you plan with that captive, Legionnaire Plowshare?” “It’s Skirmisher Captain now, ranger,” Plowshare huffed. They moved at a canter, being careful to remain in formation to avoid bunching up in the narrow sections of the passageway, a difficult task given the remaining civilians sharing the passages. “She’s involved herself with the Rondo, including the murder of Skirmisher Captain Coal Grey.” Plowshare’s eyes were hard and pitiless, not quite icy and murderous like the unicorn from earlier, but they were still the eyes of a determined executioner. “They will pay for this, that’s for sure.” More useful notes to bring back to the Empire. Getting killed out here, even with the target slain, may not be an acceptable result. They broke out of the stifling cave complex, back into the night air of Mount Moaning Top’s slopes. They were not in a good position still. The passage led back to the southeastern face of the mountain, requiring them to double back. The Western legionnaires herded the remaining civilians with them at spear and blade point. Nefszen approved. A citizen that throws rocks at the Imperial Army would face dire consequences. Plowshare could, at least, manage that. Half the troop was to get back to where the rest of the festival was, then move on to Moon Basin, the rest were to go after Safaszan. They took the unconscious unicorn mare with them. Kasamyssen went along with the village-bound troops along with a couple of the slaves. There was important information to be gained from various angles of this situation, and Nefszen wasn’t going to miss any opportunity. “Try to keep up, ranger!” Plowshare huffed. Nefszen pictured having this insolent stallion whipped. The thought was a small comfort for his aching scales and the bitter cold. They made good time nonetheless. With their prey on the move and their confidence in their reinforcements high, the legionnaires moved with invigorated spirits. It helped that the other group was the one to deal with the unruly civilians. “Tell us more about this thing,” Plowshare said as they hustled. “What kind of ophidite is it? Is it common down south? What are its weaknesses?” “It’s a pride tikhana,” Nefszen replied. “Her name is Safaszan, she’s a dangerous criminal that the Empire has made our problem.” That sounded good. It wasn’t far from the truth either. The closer it was to the truth, the better the lie. This Plowshare bought it with ease, likely because his mind was elsewhere, in several places even. He was obviously still reeling from his friend’s demise, and he was contemplating both the punishment for the ponies responsible as well as the strategy to accomplish his original mission. He was in no condition to detect an Imperial agent just beneath his nose. So Nefszen continued to play the role of helpful Southern Legion ranger, discussing as much as he knew of tikhana, pride or otherwise, as they hustled across the mountainside. It helped keep his mind off the pain of traversing this wretched terrain at least. Several flashes occurred just past the tree line. The lurid orange of a fireball, probably Safaszan’s as no spellcaster would be stupid enough to use fire on a dragon or dragon hybrid, followed by the bluish glow of a lightning bolt. The flashes spurred the ponies from a hustling trot to a full on gallop. Here was a problem. Nefszen may look like a pony, but he still moved as a cobrahn. His bipedal running, already hampered by hard, dry rocks, couldn’t possibly keep up with the naturally fast ponies. The slithering vipren with him were in the same predicament, though the slaves ran just fine. Outside of infiltration, this was the point when he would have started riding a pony slave. “What’s the matter, ranger?” Plowshare called out from ahead. “The West not soft enough for you?” Foolish pony. A more observant legionnaire would be suspicious of such slow movement from a fellow soldier. Nefszen’s luck still held. It was probably a good thing the Skirmisher Captain from earlier died. They were much closer now, enough to hear the shouts and bellows from the legionnaires that has engaged Safaszan. The cold, mountain air stank of burnt flesh, ashes, and ozone. At this distance, Safaszan’s massive silhouette stood sharply against the moon. Her sword dripped blood, as did her powerful claws. She had been forced to engage with the ponies, but she was making them pay dearly. Her shield, now even brighter than before, turned even powerful bolts with a stone wall’s impunity. She was gaining confidence, even in her difficult situation. Pride dragons grew stronger, faster, and more fiery the more arrogant they got in a fight. Pride tikhana most likely had a diluted, but still powerful, version of that trait in them. Safaszan even looked bigger. Out in the open, she rose even above the tree line, her golden-scaled hood glittering defiantly. Her blade crackled with magic. Though she was grounded, her wings flapped furiously, sending gusts of air towards her attackers. Even from where he was, Nefszen had to shield his eyes from the flying dirt and buffeting winds. At a closer range, it must be difficult for unicorn magi to get their spells going. The wind was only the the first and most tangible layer of Safaszan’s protections against spells. As Nefszen moved closer, the next, more insidious one rolled into him, like an invisible wave of water, nearly forcing him to his knees and slowing him down considerably. Around him, pony and disguised ophidite alike fought to move forward with grit teeth. Out of the corner of his eye, a panicked hare darted out of a nearby bush, only to fall to its side and convulse, dying of a stopped heart. Some birds dropped out nearby branches in a final flutter of feathers. His own heart pounded quickly and heavily, as if clutched by an ice-cold hand. Nefszen was prepared, though. He already knew of what a pride tikhana was capable of. He wouldn’t have dared taken this mission otherwise. He was acclimated to fear spells as part of special training, and he was prepared with morale bolstering enchantments. With the legionnaires distracted by Safaszan, it was easy to cast it without unwanted attention over himself and his troop. He looked over to Plowshare and the others and briefly mulled over spending effort and energy into bolstering them as well. He loathed the thought of helping Equestrians too stupid to prepare themselves for a variety of foes, but he wanted them useful. “Second Principle of Slavery,” Nefszen muttered. They were not his property, true, but for this occasion he should treat them as such. He cast his spell over them as well, letting them break through the frightful presence with greater ease. Now, they were close enough to get into the fray. Safaszan towered over them, even taller than Nefszen remembered when she was in the cave. Perhaps, she had used some magic to transmute her size, or it was also connected to her pride dragon side. “Tas,” Nefszen hissed. He made sure he was out of earshot. The name shortening was unnatural, but Tasimyssa would recognise it, and ponies who managed to overhear would not be too suspicious. “the envy venom.” Tasimyssa produced the arrows tipped with the venom in questions. She had enough for three shots. Envy dragon venom was a rare, thus expensive, commodity. Even this small amount represented a sizeable expenditure on the Imperial Army’s part. It had to be collected from a living, adult envy dragon, no easy feat even for the Empire. It was worth it, however. Dragons were highly resilient creatures, immune to most of the Empire’s standard arsenal of toxins. Tikhana shared in this resistance, as proven when Safaszan escaped Ervan Reis with several vipren-envenomed arrows sticking out of her back and hood with little effect. The venom from an envy dragon’s tail was virulent enough to overcome even dragon constitution. Not even the arrogant Safaszan would be able to ignore this. Tasimyssa nocked the first arrow while Nefszen weaved his transmutations. A hardening spell on the arrowhead to help penetrate tikhana scales, a brief boost to Tasimyssa’s arm strength, and the toughness of her bow to generate more force, lastly a spell to improve vision despite the night’s darkness. Tasimyssa was using Southern Legion ranger’s bow, not her specialty, but she was proficient enough, and it reinforced their disguise. Nefszen held a “hoof” up to keep her from firing. They had only a few shots to accomplish this in a swift and efficient manner. If the envenomed arrows failed, they would be forced to grind Safaszan down. “Aim for center mass,” he said. “Wait for the crackle in her defensive spells.” Tasimyssa nodded while Nefszen intoned even more spells. Now, it was a battle of abjurations; Safaszan’s prideful shields against his duty-bound dispelling. Thankfully, he had plenty of unicorn magi to back him up. It was much needed help as well. Safaszan was in the throes of arrogant prowess, and it was greatly boosting her spell power. Once her facade was nicked, however, Nefszen expected it to come crashing down. First, a divination to probe all her spell work. For a tikhana who was likely never educated in any cobrahn school, Safaszan displayed a remarkable grasp of spell casting. She was powerful, but she didn’t lack for technique. Her shield was sturdy and unflinching despite the banging it was receiving from Legion bolts and spells. Her sword dripped with thick gouts of blood, and the ground by her clawed feet was littered with sliced up pegasi that got too close, and crushed earth ponies. The skirmishers were having a hard time of it. Greenish flames periodically erupted from Safaszan’s mouth, engulfing anything close to her feet. The sight of them intrigued Nefszen. They were quite reminiscent of the toxic fire bombs developed by the Hooded Council Laboratory back in Nazcatania. There were no reports that Tikhanas could replicate the effects naturally. He looked to some of the victims. One legionnaire limped away from the fray, his right foreleg blackened and already weeping with pus. There was no way that a natural infection could settle in that quickly. Safaszan let out another ferocious bellow, one so loud that it shook the ground. The nearest legionnaires flinched and staggered back a few steps. The sound wave halted pegasi trying to swoop in. They fluttered frantically in a hover, desperate to recover before the strike everyone knew was coming. Sure enough, Safaszan’s blade sliced through the air in a wide arc, gouging a deep, fatal wound into one lancer’s neck, then swatting him to the ground in a horrific crunch. His wings spasmed once after that and then he never moved again. More successful attacks to boost Safaszan’s ego as far as Nefszen was concerned. He focused on finding any weakness in her shield spell; spots that strained from taking too many physical attacks or repeated dispelling...anything at all to provide Tasimyssa a clear shot. The upper parts of the shield showed promise. The lancers dive-bombed it plenty of times. The unicorn magi had the same idea as him too, and had already set about dispelling it from there. Nefszen had one more advantage. He was properly schooled in ophidite spell casting. Safaszan wasn’t, but she still followed familiar patterns in her spell work. More than that, he had observed this spell work before. Before he signed up with the Imperial Army, he served as a tutor for Lord Nesasyth’s family. Safaszan weaved her spells like a young coatl, favoring simplistic patterns and arrays out of impatience and simply relying on power. In this case, the power of arrogance. He knew where the loose threads were, so to speak. He had to, just to survive his tutoring days. To be proven inferior to your charge, even if your charge was a coatl, was a particularly...ruinous situation. Nefszen would have never lived it down, assuming if he even lived. Safaszan’s shield crackled, starting from the top, then making its way down in a vertical drop, like a piece of paper being ripped up. It was a different sort of hiss that escaped Safaszan at this, a softer, surprised one, a crack to her ego as sure as the crack on her shield. Her head swivelled about, and magic coursed through her blade. Too late, Nefszen recognised a divination. Her eyes locked on to him, followed by long, vicious hiss. “I should have known!” Safaszan bellowed. She pointed her blade at Nefszen. “Tas, now!” Nefszen shouted. Tasimyssa loosed her shot, while Nefszen instinctively held his breath. He trusted Tasimyssa’s archery. In all the years they’ve served together, she had never disappointed. He also trusted his own dispelling from years of tearing down the defenses of unicorn magi and rival cobrahns. Even a wolven shaman once. The arrow flew true, it’s head glinting against the night sky. Several bolts accompanied it as the legionnaires quickly noticed the break in Safaszan’s shield. Safaszan, for all her arrogance, had no trouble acknowledging that she was vulnerable. A pity she wasn’t more of a pride dragon in that regard as far as Nefszen was concerned. She noticed the volley heading her way and moved to evade. Her size would make that a tricky proposition. She raised her blade to both cast a spell and block. A couple of bolts did collide with her enormous weapon, but Tasimyssa’s arrow slipped through. Safaszan’s desperate dodge was not without benefit, however. She managed to save her torso from a direct hit, but the envenomed arrow found a home in her right wing, close to the second joint. “Vipren!” Safaszan bellowed. She flapped her wings defiantly, knowing full well that some kind of venom meant for her had found its way into her blood. “Damn you, and your Empire!” Her blade continued to crackle, and her shield reformed around her. Nefszen expected it to be weaker. Now that she had been wounded, Safaszan’s confidence must be shaken. Her arrogant rampage would start to dissipate. Tasimyssa had nocked the second arrow, but she cast an alarmed glance at Nefszen. He shook his head in response. Better to ignore Safaszan’s attempts to expose them. The legionnaires may have heard or they may not have heard. The danger of a massive, draconic ophidite loomed before them. If none of them reacted, then Safaszan would only appear to either be crazy or attempting to sow discord among the legionnaires. They wouldn’t be so foolish as to entertain the notion, not with such obvious danger. Safaszan’s reformed shield was obviously weaker. Even without detection spells, Nefszen could tell. This wasn’t just a matter of her sudden fall in confidence. Faced with overwhelming odds, Safaszan had shifted her defenses into sheer attacking power. The ground trembled and tree branches shook as Safaszan broke into a sudden sprint, making an obvious beeline towards Nefszen and Tasimyssa. Nearby skirmishers darted around her legs, a practiced maneuver when dealing with ursans, Nefszen surmised. Their gashing blades glowed blue, a match for the auras around the horns of nearby unicorns. Basic enhancement spells; the sort that fledgling cobrahns learned early in school, but these were boosted by almost comical amounts of spell power. The Western Legion certainly had interesting priorities, and they happened to align well against Safaszan’s crude, but powerful, defenses. The shield around Safaszan crackled and fizzed, barely able to hold against such an assault. One gashing blade cut through just enough to slice into her calf with a resounding bang. The legionnaire was, perhaps, not expecting the hardened scales of a tikhana. His blade held fast, trapped between to particularly stubborn scales, dragging him by his jaws as Safaszan kept running. With an annoyed hiss, she kicked him away, sending him flying well over a dozen feet down the mountain’s slope. If the impact of her foot didn’t kill him outright, the long tumble down the mountainside likely would. Even with frightful charge of such a behemoth, Nefszen stood his ground with a tooth-clenched grin. “Tas, again!” he hissed. Tasimyssa stood firm as well, and loosed the second envenomed arrow. Nefszen’s abjurations tore their way through the cracks already by Safaszan’s legs. With Safaszan being so dangerously close, however, and the increasing chaos of milling legionnaires nearby, her aim proved...disappointing. The second arrow struck Safaszan’s left knee, hardly a better target for spreading venom. Still, two wounds should deal with Safaszan swiftly. Tasimyssa let out a frustrated, far too ophidite-like hiss as she drew her last envenomed arrow. Fortunately, no legionnaire heard her. Nefszen waved a hoof towards Tasimyssa, warning her off another shot. “Tas—!” Safaszan’s blade crashed down so swiftly and violently, that the resulting tremor of its impact knocked Nefszen to the ground. He closed his eyes on instinct as hot liquid spattered across them, flooding his senses with a stinging pain. He reeled and immediately wiped at his face with a free arm to clear his vision. “Watch out!” That was Plowshare’s voice. A heavy weight crashed into Nefszen, pushing him down. Something massive flew just above them so swiftly that the draft felt like a cold, biting wind. Finally, Nefszen’s vision cleared as Plowshare swiftly got off him. “Tas!” he yelled. He hoped that the third arrow was still useful. No reply came from Tasimyssa. Next to him, Plowshare gripped his glowing gashing blade for another run. “Ta—“ he stopped when he spotted the mangled vipren corpse a few feet away; chopped horizontally into halves by a single stroke from Safaszan’s blade. Her bow was also in pieces, and her quiver had scattered its contents across the ground, where they were kicked up by scrabbling ponies and Safaszan’s earthshaking steps. “Tas...” Nefszen let the name leave his mouth with a low hiss. He had prepared for this, just as he had prepared for his own death. Tasimyssa knew the risks, but all the knowledge did little to still his growing outrage. There would be no after mission celebration with her in Nazcatania, as they had always done for years of risking life and limb in the Empire’s service. No reminiscing of similar missions. Not this time. Nefszen’s grip on his ceremonial blade tightened. He couldn’t die now, not until he made this skink pay. He looked to the legionnaires around him, some form of misdirection already forming in his mind. With her death, Tasimyssa’s illusory disguise dissipated. These legionnaires were not going to take finding dead ophidites lightly. Fortunately they hadn’t quite noticed yet in the din of battle. He wove a separate illusion, not complicated enough to disguise Tasimyssa’s corpse as a pony, but enough to hide it in the din of battle. He would have to deal with it later. Safaszan threshed the ground as she whirled about to keep up with the skirmishers running around her. Good. The thrown up soil should hide the body. The venom must be coursing through her by now. Her affected wing drooped already, the flesh around the small wound blackened and weeping. Still, she raged on. One skirmisher, young and inexperienced from the looks of him, took a too sharp turn to avoid her blade. He slipped on the icy ground, and took a tumble right before she stepped on his head. Careless mistake. Nefszen pointed at Safaszan’s blood-smeared foot and intoned his next spell. The body under those gold scales exploded with a wet pop, like a giant blister bursting. Grudge from being killed was a fleeting thing, especially if there was no prior connection between killer and victim beforehand, but corpse bombing was the one necromancy spell Nefszen was capable of, and he seized opportunities with practiced ease. With a pained bellow, Safaszan recoiled her foot, the scales around the blast ruptured and blackened. The venom was softening up even her tough dragon scales, and her shields were fading. A dark red cloud emanated from the corpse, which was but a smear of gore and shattered barding at this point. Some of it wafted towards Nefszen, filling his nostrils with the stench of decay. “Necromancy...” a familiar voice suddenly spoke from behind Nefszen. “Is that what they teach you down south?” Chill Gaze, still perfectly composed despite all the spells he has cast earlier and the sight of several comrades dying, walked next to Nefszen. His eyes were hard, pitiless, like a cobrahn captain’s or a coatl’s. Even Nefszen was impressed. “We learn what’s needed,” he replied. “You defiled a western legionnaire’s body, ranger, I won’t be letting that go anytime. For now..” Chill Gaze raised his horn towards Safaszan. “I’ll show you what’s needed...” Chill Gaze’s horn glowed an icy blue and the already chilly air around him turned outright frosty. Nefszen stepped back, his instincts leaving him wary as was often the case when faced with a powerful unicorn mage. A chilling draft whistled around them, flowing upward and coalescing above Safaszan. ‘So, this is a western unicorn mage,’ Nefszen thought. It was certainly a different sight to what he was used to. The Southern Legion did not favor direct magical attacks, at least not in such a massive scale. Above Safaszan, the gathering wind swiftly turned into a large chunk of ice. There was conjuration mixed with this evocation spell, enough to form a great, if temporary, mass. Nefszen had seen this spell before, during a coatl magical contest: Fall Berg. Safaszan recognized the brutal crushing she was about to receive, one that her failing shields would not be able to protect her from. She tried to hobble out of the way, but her severely ruptured foot nearly crumpled on to itself, the consequence of her increased weight. Nefszen had to chuckle. The pride tikhana’s puffing up just turned on her. The venom had spread enough to leave her wing dangling uselessly and her knee weeping copiously. The skirmishers recognised such obvious weak points and had taken to cutting at them as much as possible. “You’re staying put, Safaszan!” Nefszen said with a sneer. He wove his own spells in. Nothing fancy like Chill Gaze’s. The ground erupted with black, conjured tendrils that wrapped themselves around Safaszan’s legs. The spell continued to grow until it was a pointed shard ice the size of a large hut that threatened to drop on Safaszan. And with one final spark from Chill Gaze’s horn, that threat carried itself out. As she looked up to the massive ice chunk hovering above her, Safaszan let out one last defiant bellow. The venom had sapped enough of her strength to turn it into nothing more than a particularly loud scream from an ordinary cobrahn about to be killed by the Legion. It wasn’t the first time Nefszen heard such a sound. Though, he supposed that he had not heard it nearly as often as one would expect after serving so long. Rangers killed quickly and quietly. A slit throat or an arrow between the eyes did not leave time for screaming. The west was so different after all. The ice chunk came crashing down, crumpling even a tikhana’s hard scales as if they were rotting wood. Nefszen ducked as the massive blade Safaszan held flew above him, a severed hand still gripping it. Bloodstained ice shards flew everywhere, forcing everyone nearby to throw their hooves up over their faces. Nefszen grunted as a few icy splinters jammed themselves into his arms while stinking tikhana blood, befouled by envy venom, spattered across his chest and limbs. The chaos eventually settled, leaving the surviving legionnaires staring at slowly collapsing remains of the fall berg. The conjuration was only temporary after all, and the ice was breaking down faster than it could simply melt. Fortunately, its job was done. Nothing was left of Safaszan save for a few glittering scales scattered across a great puddle of blood and viscera. Nefszen allowed himself a curt nod. Mission accomplished. He looked to the direction of the pony village nearby. It was going to be tricky trying to reunite with the others, but he could at least be satisfied that the Empire was free of one headache. An alarmed cry snapped his gaze back to the nearby surroundings. A legionnaire was standing where he was sure Tasimyssa’s remains were. “Damn...” Nefszen hissed.