Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

A FEW HOURS LATER, all of Caer Mullhen was still reeling from the effect of the zoar, the Nirvana they had seen. The moors and hills and horses that the Badlands could be. The picture of Eden.

Upon the showing of this [Virtual Reality], hence the possible future of the southern kingdom if the rebellion against Crown went successfully, Israfel immediately had gotten hardcore loyalists among the Deathlies, ready to strap explosion vests to their chests and walk right into Lilith's court.

The bomber jacket would be suicide. But the little weirdos of the stronghold didn't give a shit. "Not about my life." One dude said. "The Lord of Rebels promises us something. It's way better than we ever got out here. I ain't ever sacrificed shit for nothing but [Orion ore]. But now I get to go boom for the. . .FUTURE. Boom! Haha!"

This person already clutched to a [Sparkolite]: a goth-fashioned grenade. Since the Badlands did not have much real magic to wave around as their counterparts in Rocasus, Atlantea, and Titan Landing, save the Vestals and the occasional [Adventurer Mage] or Magess, the Bonelanders had learned to rely on hard metal and the absurd tech of forging in flame and coals until a grotesque machine was born.

It was so they had created their angry-looking cannons, and bayonets and grenades, and strange arm-held missiles—that could shoot a full Griffin straight out the sky.

'Giselle wouldn't like that.' Rafel thought.

He plucked the grenade out of the crazy dude's hand before the fellow decided waiting till Titans Landing to blow himself up was not matyrdom enough. He just about hijacked the black thing from the dude's grip. "Maybe don't treat this like a toy, yeah?"

The sod nodded glumly. Rafel smelled sour palm wine on his breath. He gave the bub one final stare before walking away. And he ensured the pin on the grenade was tight as a motherfucker before tossing it into the pile of explosives in a cart by a block of rare-cut [Hallowed] Adamantium shields.

Zaftig's crew were pretty hardcore.

But Rafel wasn't about let a third of his rebellion army before they even had a chance to march.

After using the [Scrying Scroll] in the throne room, Rafel had stayed back in the little music hall off the left exit, watching the Elders of Caer Mullhen leave one after the other, enthralled. Speechless. Who knew the Badland had such a bright future, eh?

A kingdom of graverobbers, madmen, pervert fatso, bandits, rapists, and 24hour-horny whores. A kingdom with 'bad' in it's literal name.

He had seen Damnameneus pocket the scroll, which had gone blank again, into nothingness. If the high Magus were to suddenly drop dead, they would need an [Illusion Seeker] to pinpoint the dimension where the sorcerer had sent to the Utopian tool. In the present, Rafel was walking corner stalls of baking red meat sold around the dome. It was vulture meat. Dog meat. Horsemeat. Camel meat. And possibly, human meat—Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Who knew?

In every hundred sect of Bonelanders, thirty were cannibals.

Rafel stopped at a huge store. To be safe, he said, "two drums of elephant snail please. The buttery ones."

If he had a mermaid in his harem, then he would've opted for the closed-curtain butchers far to the edge where he was certain it was human hands he saw dangling from the slab hooks. Mermaids did love their protein.

Yes, this was sick. Ew! That mermaids ate people? Oh my gawd! Well, grow up. Sick shit was the normal in the Badlands. Turbaned marshals of the stronghold passed hanging torsos roasting over a spitfire and said nothing. The popular story was that these spicy limbs once belonged to executed prisoners. Fried fucking human!

It was better if they were ex-cons, right?

The butcher of the stall, a bosomy [Critch] with one of her horns cut—as if with a blazing axe, took one long look at Rafel and swelled his bags with the snail meat. She gave him the Lord's portion. And when he offered to pay in [gold solidus], she grinned and said, "are you kidding me! Hell naw! Me can't take your money, Rebel Lord. Just for killing that cunt Usurper, I'd offer to give you the best deepthroat you ever got. Your coin is no use at ma meat table. Go on! Off witt ye!"

She shooed Rafel away gently. Still smiling. She had added more portions of the giant snails than two drums worth. And already, serving the leader of the desert rebellion was attracting customers to her stall. Israfel was free publicity.

Rafel chuckled at the charm of the female butcher; her goat-hoof feet under the table were shined with brass shoes. She had a rune of green seahorse at the dip of her melons. A [water tribe] tattoo. She has been a Marine before the fall of the Capitol. Now she was an exile. A Bonelander, thoroughbred. Rafel wondered how many wonderful stories were the people milling around in the free city of Brass.

He clutched to his cardboard bags of meat, and was sliding through short alley paths back to the flattering metal dome: Zaftig's home, when. . .

Zzz! Rrr! Gggffff!

The ground rumbled and shifted under him.

Boombalakkk!!!

He heard a small explosion on the opposite street.

"Lord Visha!" A certain brown man prayed to the desert god. Rafel heard a tumult rise in the market he had just passed. He turned around in a blur, and he pounded straight back.

The butchers stalls were a mess. Tents were fallen and structures half-torn. Red meat were scattered in the dust, dogs and little children fighting for it amidst the skelter and worry of the sellers. Rafel found the Critch woman on her side. He rushed to her, kneeling instantly at the sight that greeted his eyes. A beam of her shack had cut her down, the cold iron impaled through her right leg.

The tectonic shifting had left most of Caer Mullhen in disarray. Rafel got why the place was built with hard metal and stone now.

These little earthquakes were frequent.

Funny Zaftig didn't mention it—you'd think that would be the first thing a Lord would tell the man asking him to risk more of his men to a host. But Rafel was learning Lord Zaf was selfless like that.

"Easy. Easy!" Rafel coaxed the Critch woman as he slowly pulled out the iron beam from her leg.

By a gentle push of [Sanguine Touch], he pushed his blood into her wound to mix with hers. Rafel was no Healer, but his demonic essence worked its Hel magic on her. The deep cut of the beam filled back with sinews and sewed together into perfect skin—and this took three seconds.

"Thank you," she was saying when the next seismic wave hit.

Bada boom!

The earth rocked under them. Rafel steadied the woman as he helped her to her feet. "Is it the Mole-men?"

She looked deeply into his amber eyes and innocent question as she replied gravelly.

"Nay, m'lord. It is the Great Wyrm of the desert. Ai Sakuharu... the Sandwhale."

Rafel nodded. He said nothing else until he placed her on a bench in a place with no iron beams to fall. He pushed his meat bags into her arms. "I'll be back for this."

In a burst of swirling shadows, he teleported to the origin of the quakes. He bypassed hundred of legwork in a black flash, suddenly splashing like ink outside the high gates of Caer Mullhen. He was a sprawling darkness for a moment beneath the sunset sun. As his [Influence] cooled off, the umbra snaking at his feet crawled back into him.

Rafel lifted his voice loudly into the bleak horizon. Only brown sands as far out as the eyes could see.

"SAKUHARU-SAN! I HEAR YOU ROVE OVER THESE PLAINS. WELL, NOT ANYMORE. I SUMMON YOU. HEAR ME! SAKUHARU-SAN! SHOW YOURSELF, SAND WHALE. SHOW YOURSELF, GAIJIN!"

The last word was a cuss.

For a second, nothing but silence in the bleak scape. Then—

Skrraaatttt!

Rafel heard a shrill scratching, the arthropod voice of a might millipede. Kaboom! A great hurl of dust rose in the horizon, not too far away. Red sand was lifted hundreds of feet high into the air. Rafel knew then it must be the beast's blowhole.

"GAIJIN!" He roared higher.

The monster must've understand his cussing because it shrilled out the more. Sakarrattt! Skree! Skrraaatttt! SKRREEEE! The earth quaked as it broke surface for a moment, showing its massive size, like a dolphins leap, before plummeting and diving back into hot sand. The resulting wind drift from the force of collision flattened an entire dune. The breeze hit Rafel so hard he was pushed back some several feet.

He landed on his feet.

Behind, on the towers of the stronghold, officers and guards of Caer Mullhen clutched to ramparts and watched. More people from the small city were joining them. Civilians... climbing walls, perching at windows and walls and posts of flags, to see the man who would risk the fury of an [Elder Wyrm] for them.

"ARE YOU SCARED, LITTLE GAIJIN?!"

ROAR!!!

The Sandwhale burst out of the earth right in front of Rafel before he could finish. The worm was so big it dropped a fat shadow on the towers. The sun was blocked out briefly. Rafel saw the Sandwhale rise over him in slow motion, gigantic horror of a mouth open to claim his life.

Sakuharu monster had no teeth. But the gullet was full of spikes like little spears, round and round in deeper they went. Rafel had no qualms about how this beast digested its prey. That shit could grind rocks.

"DARK ARTS! CHAINS OF ANUBIS!" He thundered.

Monster chains of black death manifested out of thin air, wrapping around the Sandwhale, caging its flippers and shutting its snapping mouth. Rafel dropped his raised hand. And the beast crashed to the sands with a hard thud.

Boom! A cloud of dust rippled up into the skies. Light was quickly fading. Rafel didn't want to be stuck out here at night with a colossal mutant fish.

As the Sandwhale writhed against the massive chains of ethereal darkness coiling around its mammoth body like oily snakes, Rafel gave instant command to his system.

"Okay, Peitho, we've got it. Baiting it worked. Now, I need you to equip the [Beast tamer] Charm. I know what you're going to say: yes, it was a gift from my Aunt—and I'd rather not use it, but it's the only god-tier amulet that can bond Sakuharu monster. So just do it."

[Certainly, Lord host.]

Peitho's homely voice went firmer.

[Ding!]

[Beast-Taming Amulet Equipped!]

[Rank: DIVINE.]

[Matriarch: THE PURPLE GODDESS.]

Rafel's entire body became swamped in an indigo aura. His fingertip glowed as he put out his hand and touched the Sandwhale, once between the eyes whose pupils were bigger than his head.

Sakuharu [Kaiju] monster calmed.

It stopped jerking against the chains. The dark coils fell away, squelching and disappearing off its body. One huge pink towel of a tongue whipped out and licked Rafel, from head to toe.

Sluurrrp!

Rafel thought, "Ugh!" But then Aya Naamah was in his head. She whispered through [mindlink]: "Sire, you have just tamed a Desert beast."