The robed figure nodded slowly, considering Vellok’s words. "And what of the emperor’s decree? Do you believe conscripting the ratmen is a mistake?"
"No, there’s truth in how you plan to use the ratmen, but after what I’ve just told you, you must see why so many things can go wrong," the figure nodded as light flickered back on the tower.
"I understand what you’re saying, brother, but what you’re suggesting is impossible, especially in times like these."
"You expect the goblins to suddenly show leniency and kindness to the ratmen after all these years? We’ve ingrained in every goblin the belief that we are above the ratmen. Changing that now, and having them dine at the same table as us, is unthinkable when we need all goblins united to protect our world."
"Even with the threat of the gods, who may take this opportunity to show kindness to the ratmen, it’s still impossible. But nonetheless, with your warning, I’ll ensure that our control over the ratmen is tighter, and nothing they do will escape us."
The figure turned, his glowing yellow eyes fixing on Vahlok. "Is that agreeable to you, brother?"
Vahlok’s eyes narrowed as he met his brother’s glowing gaze. He crossed his arms, the weight of centuries of careful manipulation and planning pressing heavily on his shoulders. The room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of magic vibrating through the stone walls of the tower.
"It’s a start," Vahlok replied, his voice measured but firm. "But I would caution you against underestimating the ratmen’s desperation. Control may seem within our grasp, but too much control breeds desperation—and that is what the gods feast upon."
He stepped forward, his silhouette illuminated by the flickering light, his dark robes brushing the floor. "You and I both know the gods are not waiting to show kindness; they are waiting for a crack in the foundation—a slip, a moment of weakness. And once they exploit that, no matter how tightly we hold the ratmen, it will be too late."
The robed figure exhaled softly, his yellow eyes dimming slightly as he weighed Vahlok’s words. "Then what do you propose?"
Vahlok stepped closer, his voice lowering, a hint of urgency breaking through his usual calm. "We need to do more than control the ratmen. We must ensure their loyalty, not through fear, but through dependency. Make them believe their survival depends on our mercy—that we are their only hope against the gods. If they see us as their sole protection from oblivion, their allegiance will be unshakable."
The robed figure tilted his head, considering the shift in strategy. "Dependency... It’s a fine line we walk, Vahlok. Too much leniency, and they grow bold. Too much control, and they rebel."
Vahlok’s lips curled into a thin smile. "It’s not leniency. It’s manipulation, brother. We don’t have to let them sit at the same table—we only need to make them believe they are almost worthy of it."
The figure’s glowing eyes flickered brighter, a glint of understanding passing between them. "I see... Keep them in line but offer the illusion of progress. Enough hope to prevent rebellion, but not enough to threaten our order."
"Exactly," Vahlok said, his voice soft but filled with conviction. "And as for the gods... we must be ready for their meddling. They won’t act directly, but they will whisper in the ears of those desperate for change."
The robed figure turned back toward the window, gazing out over the shadowy expanse below. "I will adjust our strategy. The ratmen will have just enough to keep them in line... and no more."
He glanced back at Vahlok, his yellow eyes piercing through the dim light. "But remember this, brother: if this plan fails, the empire will fall into disarray. And should that happen, no amount of manipulation will save us from the wrath of every living being in this world."
Vahlok remained silent, deep in thought. When he raised his head, the figure had vanished.
On the other side of this invaded planet, a portal opened not far from Vorenza’s home, the Spider Queen. Like Zarvok, she sent out weak cannon fodder, whose deaths further eroded the land, allowing them to walk freely without being suppressed.
She faced little resistance until she reached a town with a mage tower at its center. This mage tower had halted their progress for a week now.
Vorenza watched as the town was slowly transforming into a fortress, preparing to hold her forces down and prevent further advancement. When she realized the town had mages, her confidence waned.
It became clear to her that this world was no stranger to invasion, as she saw the infrastructure being rapidly fortified. Knowing the capabilities of mages, Vorenza understood that the worst mistake she could make was allowing a mage or wizard to complete their preparations.
It was nighttime on this side of the planet. Vorenza sent out a fifth-stage spider demon, capable of withstanding the suppression brought on by the lands that hadn’t been eroded.
Unlike the guards in the town where Ikenga and Keles were, these guards were well-equipped—each one of them suited in armor enchanted by mages to boost their abilities.
The fifth-stage spider demon emerged from the portal from the Abyss and continued her walk undisturbed until she passed the eroded land. As soon as she stepped into the un-eroded territory, her expression changed. She could feel the suppression, and gritting her teeth, her body began to shift. Her spider-demon form morphed into that of a tall, beautiful female goblin in tattered clothes.
She was supposed to act weak to attract the guards’ attention, but the suppression she was feeling made her weakness all too real as her powers were being stifled.
The guards on the wall, once the spider demon crossed a certain distance, all homed in on her figure, gripping their weapons tightly. When they saw it was a female goblin, hesitation flashed across the faces of the burly ogre guards.
The ogre guards, well-trained and battle-hardened, shifted uneasily. Their weapons remained in hand, but their gazes softened slightly as they saw what appeared to be a fragile, tattered female goblin staggering under the weight of the world’s suppression. One particularly tall and broad ogre leaned over to his companion.
"A goblin? Out here?" the ogre rumbled, suspicion in his voice. "Strange. She should be in the confines of the tower or the mage’s keep."
Another ogre chimed in, "Look at her. She might be a mage sent on a mission that went wrong." The other ogre nodded at the speculation.
The female demon picked up on the conversation. Her transformation into a goblin wasn’t random; it was based on observations of this world. Goblins typically held higher positions, either as nobles or mages.
The ogres weren’t wrong to think as they did. She then overheard a conversation, that made her brows twitched.
A shorter, heavily armored ogre with glowing runes etched into his bracers nodded but didn’t relax. "It could be a trick. The mages warned us about shapeshifters sent by the invaders. We should—"
The taller ogre interrupted, "But look at her. She’s barely standing. No threat, not like the demons we’ve fought. Could be a survivor, you know? We’ve got orders to report any possible allies or civilians."
The shorter one hesitated, his grip tightening on his weapon. "And if it’s not? What if it’s one of them, wearing a disguise? You remember what the mages said—demons can cloak themselves, lure us in."
Sensing that the conversation was turning against her, the female demon collapsed face-forward. From her mouth came a wave of pink mist, carried by a sudden gust of wind toward the guards.
The enchanted armor the guards wore protected them initially, but the gust of wind caught them off guard. The mist, almost as if it had a mind of its own, was inhaled by several guards.
Some guards weren’t affected by the mist, but they rushed over to check on their companions. As they removed their comrades’ helms, they were met with glowing pink eyes that drew them in. Like a virus, the effect spread quickly. Once they were ensnared by the pink glow, their eyes also turned pink.
This continued until a number of guards were affected. After a while, they returned to their posts, resuming their watch as if nothing had happened.
The wall surrounding the town was tall and long, with fifty guards stationed on it. Of the fifty, twenty had been affected by the pink mist. The unaffected guards, alarmed by the commotion, were shocked to find that the female goblin had disappeared.
Nevertheless, they didn’t hesitate to report the incident. Inside the mage tower, tensions were already high. The mages, sensing the growing threat from Vorenza’s forces, had been tirelessly reinforcing the town’s defenses. The enchantments on the walls, the magical wards surrounding key structures, and the spells woven into the guards’ weapons were all meant to fend off external attacks. But internal sabotage, especially through subtle means like the mist, was far more difficult to counter.