Dungeon born are coming around,
Dungeon born are coming,
Dungeon born are breaking through,
The walls to which we're sworn,
Dungeon born have gone again,
Gone again, gone again,
Dungeon born have gone again,
But never gone for long,
Imperial nursery rhyme, dated back to the first Emperor.
REPLACE WITH LINE BREAK p^o^q REPLACE WITH LINE BREAK
When they came into view of the Imperial Capital, Marcus half expected a massive welcoming party. Maybe a horde of nobles throwing relatives at him to marry, or even the Empress herself. The reality was much, much better, that being that there was nobody at all.
Oh, the massive road leading into the city was rather crowded, and the wall itself bustled with activity, but only a small delegation was actually waiting for them. Marcus did feel somewhat hesitant when he realized all of them were Viziers, but overall the mood was high.
Which was good, because the week had been rather… tense.
Not between him and Elly, thankfully. She had been a saint, and had forgiven him basically immediately after his minor overreaction. Then the mocking had started, as expected, but that was fine. Pleasant.
Vistus, on the other hand, was displeased with them, trying to hide it, clearly wasn't used to having to actually play nice when his feelings had been hurt, and overall had been sulking. And yes, that was an unkind assessment on Marcus' part, but the man had been rude to Elly.
He liked Vistus, he did, but Elly was Elly. Who, in turn, wasn't happy with Vistus either. It was somewhat of a mess.
If only everyone could get along on all matters forever. That would be convenient.
Marcus shook his head, then forced his perception upwards. It gave him a splendid view of the city, which was big. Massive. Sprawling. Other words to convey that it was really, stupidly big. Redwater itself was already too huge to really comprehend, and Strada was easily twice that.
Industrial districts stretched as far as he could see, with wide roads snaking through them. Roads big enough for four wagons to ride side by side, which he would call excessive if that wasn't exactly what was happening.
Multiple markets spread near the east of the city, a sea of color and noise rising from it, while along the north a vast military complex hugged the outer wall. But what stood at the center of the city drew his attention the most.
The Imperial Palace. It was only barely visible from where he… hovered? Looked down upon? It was only barely visible, was the point, but it had to be at least fifteen stories tall. It looked like a castle having been assaulted by wealth, though most fine detail was lost on him.
An old comment from the Empress sufficed, back from that one time he'd met her. About how the Empire didn't lack the experts or resources to do better, but that getting them to where they were needed took time. Way too much time.
Seeing the Imperial Capital with his own eyes, he wouldn't be surprised if it could outproduce all of Mirrania. And maybe that was a stretch, but her words clearly hadn't been idle boasting. Not that he'd expected that.
Someone tapped his shoulder, and he hesitantly returned his sight to normal. It was a useful tool, but he supposed the Viziers couldn't be kept waiting forever. So he, Elly and Vistus approached the group, which stood nine strong. Their guards trailed some distance behind.
They were more varied than expected, but each had that glint in their eyes. That spark of something he couldn't name, but alluded to intelligence. Whatever else the Viziers were, none appeared stupid.
"Greetings, Archmage Vistus," the most central Vizier began, bowing his head. The man turned to him after a moment. "Archmage Marcus. Welcome to the Imperial Capital of Strada. We regret that your stay is as short as it is."
Marcus shrugged. "We're at war. Sightseeing will have to wait."
"Quite right," the man approved. He gestured to the woman next to him, who bowed lightly. "Vizier Astroma will be your liaison for the duration of your stay. Should you have need for anything, be that concerning the portals or otherwise, you have but to ask."
"What happened to Otmon? The man doesn't usually like to be seen, but replacing him seems harsh. And I'm calling them Gates."
"Gates, quite right. And Vizier Otmon is being debriefed, Archmage. He will return to your employment when you leave the city."
That sounded shady, but whatever. Vistus took a step forward, drawing attention to himself. "There was an attempted demonic incursion six hours north of Landsmeer. It has been dealt with. One Prince died."
"The Warlocks of Don will be informed," the Vizier replied smoothly, not seeming particularly bothered. "Astroma will guide you to the prepared site for the Gate, if there was nothing else?"
Vistus glanced at him, making him shrug, and Elly didn't seem to have any questions either. The group of Vizier left nearly as one, which was an almost creepy level of synchronization, and Astroma pointed the way with another bow.
Marcus spoke once they had traveled for a few minutes, Xathar snapping up a stone to crunch on while he did. "The Warlocks of Don?"
"An order of mages that are responsible for maintaining relations with the other planes," Vistus explained. "It was created by Archmage Don, the Archmage of summoning. He essentially created the modern discipline."
"I've never heard of him."
"He was a private man, apparently, and preferred his summons over people. Nonetheless, he left behind a lot of books, and even took a few apprentices. He, well, required them to remove their tongues while serving under him, and communicated only via sign language. This was during the second century of the Empire, which was a rather different time. It was actually those apprentices that ended up creating the order, though being an Archmage, his name overshadowed their efforts."
"Of course it did." Marcus snorted. "You have the Gate runic formations memorized?"
Vistus paused for a moment, probably because the man had been doing nothing else since their brief invasion of the Hells, before nodding. "The vast majority. We should be able to complete it in under four hours, partly because I can grow it in one piece rather than blocks."
Good enough. The Vizier that Marcus didn't care about—wow that was a little harsh. Anyway—led them into the city itself, and in the vague direction of the military complex. His guards ensured they had room, and in fact a few companies of what could only be city guardsmen had been standing by to assist, but that wasn't what pulled his attention.
It was, ironically, how mundane the city was. Oh, he was sure Strada had some truly amazing sights, but this was just a street. He was walking past a busy bakery, Xathar's hooves walked on regular stone, and there were mundane people all around.
Stonemasons, smith's apprentices, housewives, businessmen and everything in between. A horde of people, all going about their own business. Hells, with how little fanfare they'd entered the city, Marcus' party didn't even draw that much attention.
It did take a solid hour to get to where they needed to go, which was a little impressive, and their destination almost more so. River Reach had constructed a stone dome to protect and isolate their Gate, which looked a little depressing, but it was strong. Strada clearly had the same general idea.
But where the dome in River Reach had been a few feet thick, this one had an actual tunnel as its entrance. It was located on—what he assumed—was a former parade ground. There was a well paved, wide road leading directly towards it, and overall it was situated in one of the most fortified locations of Strada.
That he could see, anyway, but it felt right. If anyone somehow took control of his Gate, and tried to enter the city from within, they would have a very, very bad time.
Marcus watched a Legion in training marching past while he observed the dome. Also unlike River Reach, there had to be a hundred mages crawling over it. He could see runic formations being etched into the stone, but he only had time to figure out one of them before Elly pushed him onward.
Still, inscribing runes to stop the stone from being magically altered was inspired. And hugely time consuming to do, which meant construction had to have started long before he'd made the Gate in River Reach. Hells, maybe even before he had made his first ever portal.
The Empire clearly didn't believe half measures.
"This is pathetic," Xathar grumbled, shifting his weight. Marcus shifted in tandem, far too used to that to be thrown off. He was about to ask what, exactly, was pathetic about any of this when the demon continued. "No sacrifice, no prisoners to feed on, not even a bowl of blood. I knew the Empire was losing, but things must be worse than I thought."
Marcus snorted. "Oh, now the Dungeon has gone too far, hmm? Now that it actually impacts you personally?"
"You pretend that that is not how all sentient beings work, bush mage, when it is fact that the nature of mortalkind's dim emotional responses to events outside the scope of their lives. We are not made to comprehend the world, and so we do not care about the suffering of strangers."
Marcus opened his mouth, closed it, then turned to Elly. She seemed as surprised as he was. Marcus patted the demons' mane. "You're smarter than I give you credit for, Xathar."
"Eat lead and drown in a river."
"Descriptive," Marcus replied in a murmur, narrowing his eyes when they entered the tunnel. Despite a lack of natural light, it was brighter inside the dome than out. "And now I suppose it's time to get to work."
The prepared area for the Gate wasn't massive, and it was in fact only just about big enough to fit the road, but it was enough. Elly stuck with them, to his surprise, but then he supposed they were inside the lion's jaw.
From her perspective, anyway. Any animosity he was still feeling about the invasion was distant, and he'd internalized the fact that they were going to lose almost before they'd started. War, in the end, was a numbers game, and the Empire had numbers to spare.
It had ended better than he could have hoped for, with his titles intact and authority expanded, and after he was dead he hoped his Academy would ensure Mirrania's relative independence. It was a shame he was missing most of its growth, but unlike a certain Empress, he could only be in one place at the time.
…It was a little weird she hadn't been here, actually. Two Archmages didn't even warrant a clone? Maybe she was busy. Actually, she was most likely busy, considering two Archmages had been removed from the front lines.
Marcus stretched, waving to the side. "Put the tables there, and make sure the paper is properly weighed down. Skip pages one to fourteen, we won't be needing those. Where is the mage who's going to operate this thing?"
One of Vistus' spatial prodigies stepped forward, and Marcus handed the woman—whose name he was pretty sure he knew but didn't care about right this second—the control scheme blueprint. He turned to Vistus afterwards, seeing that the man was already outlining the arch.
The work, compared to his first Gate, went as smooth as silk. Not only was Vistus a much better runic expert compared to the Legion mages in River Reach, the man could literally build them atom by atom. It was a display of control that boggled the mind, but Marcus didn't have time to gawk.
Every section had to be double checked, especially those that Vistus had deemed 'illogical'. And they would be, to him. But they were necessary, and despite Vistus' expertise, the man was classically trained.
Marcus found more than a few corrected formations, which had to be corrected in turn. It set them back, but not by nearly as much as he'd feared. For Vistus, altering a formation was as easy as creating one.
That man was bullshit stacked on top of bullshit.
He spoke after petting the latest section, stretching his back. "So, why exactly isn't every Legion soldier wearing the best enchanted equipment you can memorize?"
"Economy of scale. Well, that and greed," the man replied, conjuring himself a cup of water. "Making one Gate is pretty quick. Hells, making a hundred sets of armor is pretty quick. Fully equipping a Legion would take me months, and we don't have enough enchanters to maintain that much gear. And that's only if I'd be content to sit in a room to endlessly perform the same monotonous work, which I'm not. I'm invested in the future of humanity, but I have my limits."
Marcus shrugged. "That seems fair. Not particularly greedy, though."
"The greed part comes from the enchanters themselves. Most won't be happy if I massively deflate the value of their work, and while I don't care much about the opinion of the Great Houses, I'm somewhat wary of pissing off thousands of skilled enchanters. And all their backers, for that matter."
"Oh, cool." Marcus half turned to pet Xathar, who'd apparently gotten bored of licking the Gate. "If we die because of greed, I'm going to be upset."
Vistus snorted. "You and me both. Either way, I'm more useful killing Calamities than providing enchanted equipment, so here we are. It's not like I can make the really good stuff, anyway. Now that would be worth my time."
"Yeah. I really wish enchanting was just drawing runes on some stone. Silent Gods, I'd conquer this world in a month."
"Would you like to conquer the world?"
Marcus rolled his eyes. "You mean the cursed Dwarven continent that kills anyone who sets foot on it? Or Trakka, which might or might not house extinct dragons? Parna, maybe? Magically resistant zombies sound fun to rule. And hey, there's always Ablios. Our glorious home only has this small, minor problem of a massively murderous and supposedly infinite Dungeon. There's not much to conquer, frankly."
"Don't be so pessimistic," Vistus replied lightly. "I'm pretty sure Parna's problem is solvable."
Barking out a laugh, and turning back to the Gate, Marcus shook his head. "Funny. Let's just get this one done."
Vistus shrugged, and in just over four hours, the arch was completed. It wasn't actually anything yet, of course, but the watching spatial mages cheered like they'd performed a miracle.
Marcus ignored them, laying a hand on the stone. Unlike his first attempt, the Gate felt different. More shallow, in a way, since the runes weren't carved with proper meaning. That alone wasn't a huge problem, even if he was forced to slowly guide his will through the web of formations.
But he also had to link it to the Gate in River Reach, which was an entirely separate matter. And maybe he could do those things one after the other, but that felt wrong. He should be able to do both, and so he would.
Taking the easy way was fine, Hells, it was human, but only when done by choice. The School of Life had taught him that pushing himself while he still had that choice was preferable to having no choice at all.
Marcus closed his eyes, feeling for the connection. It was far, but what did distance matter to space? Resonance was all he cared about, and resonance there was.
It took long, headache-inducing minutes to fill the entire Gate with his will. Long enough that he felt Vistus snooping around, but he ignored the old man. This was something for him alone, and when Marcus pushed, his watchers withdrew their perception in a hurry.
His reserves drained rapidly and magic filled the Gate, powering one section after the other. The outer failsafe was first, containing and dissipating the energy should anything go wrong. Containment was next, meant to constrain the portal to just the arch. Stability ensured nothing shifted, and connection joined one Gate to the other.
Another ring of stability, this time for the connection itself. Then security, to ensure the entire structure couldn't be easily tampered with, and so that no Calamity could interface with his creation. And lastly, importantly, the portal.
Six matrices he wove together, and the spell snapped into place. His reserves drained to below a tenth, and the pressure in his head peaked, but the simmering sheet of matte black energy linked together with the runes. It bubbled happily as Marcus took a step back, using one hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
The magic calmed, and Marcus mentally commanded it to open.
Matte black energy turned translucent then vanished altogether, and he looked at the startled spatial mage on the other side. The man raised his hand to wave, aborting the gesture halfway through, and just kind of ended up staring at him.
Marcus didn't care. River Reach's stone dome spread out through the portal, and he stepped through. A shout of warning came from behind him, but Marcus didn't care. This was his Gate, and it wouldn't harm him. It wasn't able to harm him.
He set foot in River Reach, nodding to the silent mage on the other side, and took a deep, long breath. It smelled like victory.
Elly joined him a moment later, Vistus not far behind, and Marcus waved around himself. "Welcome, one and all, to the future of the human race."
The mocking such a statement would have normally followed was entirely absent, but Marcus didn't care. This was progress of a kind that only came rarely, progress that broke the status of the world, and it was progress no amount of pain could detract from.
It would help with the Dungeon, it would help with the war, but above all else, it was his. No matter where he went, how long he traveled, home was only one Gate away. Supplies, soldiers, mages and tools, all but one Gate from being summoned. From what he could hear, the Empire was already doing the same, marshaling soldiers, mages and more to reinforce River Reach.
Marcus smiled, turning to the nearby spatial mage. He and his counterpart in Strada would have to learn how to operate them, and to do so actually using the runic control functions he'd built in, and then he was going to make more.
Dozens. Hundreds. A network of Gates so vast no place in the Empire would be unreachable.
This was what he lived for. Above fighting and killing and butchering, this was what he longed to do.
Creating wonders.
Afterword
Patreon (10 and 15 chapters ahead)
Discord (2 chapters ahead for free)