Savage Awakening 592. The Final Training Montage (III)

A/N: Minor point, but in 591, Zane only eats steel until he's full, not enough steel for the next 'several days'!

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That last statement only worsened the Ghoul Doctor’s apprehensions. When the Master grew fixated like this it was either a very good thing, or a very, very bad one.

“Revisions?” said Daressa, looking curious.

We shall get to that. Those eyes raked the room. First, it is important to understand what it is, precisely, that you will be dealing with… The state of affairs in Dragonspire is this. The spirits of man and beast are as high as they’ve been since the Beginning of the End. The World Tree, led by their neophyte Mistress, heals the wounds of long-crippled soldiers. With her Boundary Breaker elixirs she shall add over forty new Empyreans to their ranks by the time the End arrives. The Steelheart Conclave has finalized the Dragonspire Wards, powered by leylines stretching to the core of Dragonspire… and all the while their ‘Hegemon Rankings,’ which track their very strongest, swell year by year.

The Master’s voice was cold, rather detached, as though he was merely presenting the most objective information—that had always felt important to the Master. And the Ghoul Doctor did judge it to be a broadly accurate representation.

They think themselves safe. And perhaps one cannot blame them, with how little they see of the broader picture…

The Mirror Dragon gave a screech of contempt.

Indeed, hissed Malzareth. They have not the slightest inkling how little their efforts must look, compared to what is yet to come… the armies that mass on their doorsteps. The Bloody Starved alone would menace a so-called Great Faction. How little their efforts will mean once the End Times strike… It is that ignorance, in the end, which shall doom them.

This sounded more like the Master. Off to the side, Cromm gave a pleased grumble; the Bloody Starved were his to command.

And yet… The crimson eyes flared. There are some among you who have taken our position, which has been so carefully prepared, as a chance to grow… careless. Some among you seem to believe possessing an overwhelming advantage gives you license to make petty mistakes. This is no one-time matter. Nor is it isolated to Hreinn, though his case has proved especially egregious.

The Ghoul Doctor still hadn’t fully understood what had gone wrong in Hreinn’s plan. He assumed there had been some sloppiness involved, which was characteristic of that fool; he only knew it’d driven the Master into a fit of apoplectic rage. He had to admit to some degree of schadenfreude, seeing Hreinn reduced to a semi-sentient puddle.

It was also a plan that the Master had signed off on… although even the Ghoul Doctor could see that bringing that fact up to him now was not the wisest move.

Hreinn… snarled Malzareth. Hreinn, you godsdamned fool!

The Ghoul Doctor and Daressa exchanged a glance, while the Meat King stopped mid-chomp.

For a moment the Ghoul Doctor expected his Master to go on another extended rant, one which he’d heard several times before. But instead—There need not be more words spent on that waste of space. Save for the fact that were it not for the System’s Destruction, I would resurrect him simply to reduce him to slag again… No matter. He managed to do one thing correctly. The backdoor is secured. And so The Massacre shall proceed as planned, despite the enormity of his failure.

That was what the Ghoul Doctor had been most concerned about in that entire mess. Whether the groundwork for the Day One Massacre, which Hreinn had been responsible for, was demolished too. His Master had been trawling spacetime for months to make certain that backdoor remained. If it was gone…

Victory would still be assured, in the Ghoul’s estimation. The Monstrous forces simply dwarfed those of the living; but with those new wards in place, and some factor of home-field advantage… a fast and brutal victory would no longer be an absolute certainty.

“He should thank Fate it’s still there,” muttered Daressa, and the Ghoul Doctor agreed. To put the System’s eyes on him, and the Master too… the sheer stupidity of it was difficult to fathom.

If that backdoor vanished too, the Ghoul Doctor had no doubt the Master would execute Hreinn on the spot. Perhaps roast his soul for a few thousand years first. A pleasant enough thought, as unbecoming as it was.

The Mirror Dragon shrieked at Hreinn’s throne. It was a feat in and of itself, thought the Ghoul Doctor, to make a room full of at-best amoral Prime Endbringers despise you.

With the pathways secured, comes the first revision to the grand design…

There was silence once again.

The Massacre must be made inexorable, hissed Malzareth. It is no longer sufficient merely to cripple Dragonspire’s defenses. Even that gives them too much breathing space, makes too much room for error…certain creatures, certain men especially, must be dealt with immediately and with prejudice.

No. I shall not merely have them crippled on that first day. I shall rip out their beating hearts.

The Master spat the words, and the Ghoul Doctor’s brow creased. “Master…”

The moment the war begins we shall have unprecedented access to Dragonspire’s greatest. A chance to murder their strongest and brightest on that very first day… Mirror Dragon. Daressa. Ghoul. Cromm. Stegar.

He took them in one by one. These targets I shall assign to you. Their locations shall be exposed, their flanks open. It shall be your duty to slay them. For if these men fall, the backbone of Dragonspire is broken. And their kind are made all but extinct.

Then the Master began to list the names that were to die on that first day.

Daressa blinked, titillated; Cromm banged his throne in excitement. Stegar made a curious whir. The Ghoul Doctor felt more like Stegar. The more names the Master listed, the more astounded the Ghoul Doctor felt.

First there was the matter of the names themselves. Most of them made some degree of sense. Noughtfire, for instance, was near the top of the list—one of Dragonspire’s chief strategists, who'd arguably saved the lives of more than one Faction Head last war with his tactics. Then there were Thalia and Reina, both influential Faction Heads, and extremely difficult to replace.

But the more names the Master listed, the more the Ghoul Doctor began to get an odd feeling. Zane Walker came next, a name very high on the list.

There is no reason for Zane Walker to still be alive. I would prefer him imprisoned, brought before me, so that I may make use of him… but dead shall suffice.

Daressa offered to take that assassination, but Malzareth declined.

I need you to destroy the defenses of the World Tree and shatter the soul of the Mistress. Do not split your focus.

“Let my wraiths, then.” Daressa’s White Wraiths were her Empyrean elites.

It would not be a certain thing, said Malzareth. Zane Walker will not succumb easily to attacks of the soul. You have never seen the kind of soul that can attract a Universe-level Title. Not up close. You have simply heard of them. Neither you nor your Wraiths know what it takes to kill a man like that… I will not take any more chances with that man. 

“I have seen Universe-level Titles, Master,” said Daressa, playfully petulant. “They’re difficult, but he’s still just a Minor God.”

There are peculiarities with Zane Walker, was all Malzareth said of it. There is that thread of Fate, which ties him to Aiwe—a thread I had not noticed before the last War… we must also assume that he made out well in the Pure Yang Lands. His human accomplice prevented Hreinn from scrying him directly, but it is very likely that he has a host of Destruction shards at his disposal… let us assume that that man breaks through to True God. Let us also assume he manages to take in those shards in record time. Then there is his Title. You were not there when the Father slew the last Savage Sage. I was. If Zane Walker makes True God, and gains even a fraction of what that man had…

Malzareth’s eyes flashed. He shall not be allowed to progress farther than that. The Bloody Starved shall take him.

Cromm’s hordes were a safe choice—sure to provide a brutal and decisive finish, which the Doctor suspected was the Master’s wish. Physically, Zane might be impressive, but these were some of the most physical Greater Endbringers in Malzareth’s army. Greater Endbringers were second only to Primes in stature and easily among Malzareth’s elites. Some could even challenge weaker Primes. Even given Zane’s extreme talents, and even assuming he reached True God… the Ghoul Doctor could only see that horde folding him like mere straw.

It was, at some level, obscene that such a horde—which had great value in a war like this—was being tasked with the murder of a Minor God turned new True God.

No one would accuse the Master of taking Zane lightly.

The Meat King seemed pleased his kind were chosen.

Malzareth was not done, though.

Cromm, you shall serve as insurance. In the unlikely event Zane Walker still stands by day’s end, and you have finished your primary duties… you will hunt him down yourself.

Cromm banged his fists. It might as well have been the sound of the nail being hammered into Zane’s coffin.

“Master, you said you wanted him imprisoned,” said Daressa, eyes gleaming. “He’ll be in pieces once they’re through with him!”

That is a risk I shall take.

The Ghoul Doctor had no issue with that, and he would not dispute Zane’s inclusion on the list either. With that man’s raw potential, Title and all, and how difficult he was to kill, if he wasn’t taken down quickly—if he was allowed to somehow escape and grow strong, which was the greater threat—there was a chance he’d become an existential threat to Dragonspire’s Monsterkind. A high estimation, perhaps, but the Ghoul Doctor was sure of it.

Yet even so… putting Zane’s name above the likes of Brondir, or the Carved Saint, or even Lyxandor felt… bold. At least, at the onset of the War. These were long-established top-ranking powerhouses.

The list still made a great deal of sense. Each name was without a doubt a cornerstone of Dragonspire; and there were benign reasons the Ghoul Doctor could think of for that ordering. Surely a great contingent of mankind would lose hope if they saw Zane go down, for instance, perhaps even more so than with a man like Brondir. Losing Zane would be a terrible blow to Dragonspire’s morale in general.

And yet...

This was a stretch, and perhaps presumptuous to think—it was a thought that’d likely send the Master into a fury if he knew of it. But the Ghoul Doctor couldn’t shake the suspicion that this kill list was informed by the Master’s personal vendettas.

His feeling only grew as the list went on. There were a few inexplicable choices. The Barbarian Sage, for instance, was one of the first dozen names—a name which Malzareth explained simply with, A mutt who should have been put down a long time ago.

But in the Sage’s current form, he hardly posed a danger. He was but a shadow of the man who’d stormed the Superdungeon… it had to be half a million years ago by now.

It felt almost inexplicable that he’d still hold a grudge against a man who should, at this point, be harmless... but that was the Master.

I sense your eagerness, my Primes, said Malzareth mirthfully. Your will… it pleases me. Yet some of you must harbor certain doubts… Ghoul. It seems to me that you have something to say.

The Ghoul Doctor hesitated.

The Master was seldom in the most receptive of moods. But now especially…

You tell me that which no one else dares. This, I find of great value. That is why I prize your judgments.

“Yes.”

Speak, then. Give me your counsel. But balance your words. Do remember that it is I that you are addressing.

If Hreinn were here, he would’ve snickered at that.

The Doctor chose not to mention his concerns about the vendettas. Even he could see that would be a poor choice. 

Instead he mentioned his other concern, which he thought might be slightly more amenable to the Master’s ears.

“I merely have concerns regarding the logistics of the matter,” said the Ghoul Doctor. “Our plans now include the assassinations of nearly 20 Hegemon Rankers, including 4 Faction heads, in the span of a single day.”

That is correct.

“Assuming that backdoor pays dividends and our first strike is as crippling and overwhelming as we project… perhaps half that figure in the first day seems more realistic to me. For the full list, three days, even perhaps a week seems feasible—and again, this assuming a truly overwhelming first strike. I simply struggle to see how twenty such assassinations can be accomplished so quickly. That would presume a total collapse of all Dragonspire’s forces.”

He trailed off. He’d been concerned the Master might be offended. But Malzareth seemed, if anything… amused?

He bowed his head. “Forgive me, Master. It appears I am not privy to the full picture.”

No, Ghoul, you are not. For you lack two critical pieces of information. First… just how, exactly, I now plan to exploit this backdoor.

Malzareth’s assurances went a long way to assuaging the Ghoul Doctor’s concerns, though it also raised new ones.

“Master… that seems unduly risky. Surely we can’t be certain our firepower is enough for such a maneuver.” Which was not a concern the Ghoul Doctor typically had when it came to Prime Endbringers. But with what the Master was suggesting… “Perhaps if we still had six Primes to bear—”

And there is the second critical piece of information. Malzareth’s eyes glinted. For I have been in the Tar Chambers, hard at work… and there, I have forged your firepower.

And six bones appeared before Malzareth, a bone honed into the shape of a crystal, crackling with the colors of chaos.

62-Million-Year Corrupted Bone [???]

A Corrupted Bone bound with the origin blood essence of the Heavenly Demon. Grants or augments a Supreme Skill of the Heavenly Demon.

30-Million-Year Corrupted Bone [???]

A Corrupted Bone bound with the origin blood essence of the Heavenly Demon.

12-Million-Year Corrupted Bone [???]

A Corrupted Bone bound with the origin blood essence of the Heavenly Demon.

On and on they went.

Every Prime stared at those bones with undisguised greed and astonishment. Even the Ghoul Doctor. At first, he couldn’t understand where the Master could possibly have procured them from on such short notice—such bones were extreme rarities, even in the broader Universe. Then the realization struck.

I have concluded, after deliberation, that Hreinn the Undying no longer has need of his Bones… and so I have extracted them from his soul. I come bearing gifts, my Primes. Let us hope you make better use of them than their previous owner.

Then an ethereal claw grasped a bone and stabbed it straight through the Meat King’s heart.