And that what I call a "Triple Threat Chapter!"
Big thanks to our new Patrons:-
@Snixern (D rank)
@Jacob Flaherty (E rank)
~~~~~~~~~~
(Part 1)
The situation was seamless to foresee whose winning side is until a series of inner conflicts inside the ranks of the Worm Cult started to rise. The rearguard of the Cult’s forces were having a tough time as it is controlling the massive reserve of reinforcements prepared for the fight while most of the Necromancers in the Core formation and the Vanguard were engaging in the fight. Losing the rearguard meant that most of the Undead destroyed in the fight won’t be replenished and retreating will be extremely difficult.
Without any prior knowledge of the two warring sides, the Worm Cult was already trapped into its own army.
In the sky, its supreme commander was fighting the strongest member of the Alliance whose identity is mysterious and on the ground, the supreme commander of the Alliance, Prince Kareem, was breaching the lines and slaying the Cultists on an alarming pace thus the second in command in the ranks of the Cult, Necromancer Iceheart, had to step in and stop him.
"You are already drained. Give up!"
Iceheart was as relentless as ever aiming to weaken both Kareem and Jax who displayed a remarkable synergy together creating tons of corpses where they pass. Iceheart used the chance to make all those corpses explode and caused serious damage to the pair while maintaining a safe distance. Thankfully, Kareem’s [Paladin Aura], a spell passed down by Jon, was of absolute importance in this fight as it was both healing Kareem and damaging the undead.
Still, it was too overwhelming.
"Master... Master... are you there?"
Strangely and amidst the chaotic clash of living flesh and dead one, a young woman in a Cultist robe walked between the warring factions calling for her master. She could be seen by all but for a strange unexplainable reason, she was unreachable by both factions. Those who tried to walk to her felt as if the land beneath them was taking them the other way and the young woman kept going.
Despite looking like a mage, she was carrying a remarkably big sword without hindrance. It was masterfully held in a reverse grip and covered in a very breathtaking scabbard.
There was no other force in play here other than this sword. No one helped Mina out along the way other than the sword that was finding its way to the closest bond of Mina wearing her skin. A devil in a shell.
"Master... it is me, Mina. I came looking for you."
And after some time, Mina’s called was heard.
"Mina, what are you doing here?"
In a cinematic scene amidst the chaotic fight, a clearing was opened as bodies collided around it leaving this place clear for four figures. On one side, there was a Kareem and Jax panting in exhaustion while on the other was Iceheart, the old witch whose face was nothing but the face of a woman between Life and Undeath.
Mina was standing in the middle of all this with a face that displayed no emotions as if her mind went numb. Her eyes had no brightness to them as if she was no longer there.
"Mina... what have you done?" Iceheart was fast to pick up the anomaly.
Jax and Kareem looked for each other recognizing something about the blade in her hands.
"Don’t tell me!"
"What?"
While Jax felt something about the situation, Kareem was worried that something very wrong might have happened. Anyway, the two in addition to Iceheart were in a skeptical situation regarding the sudden appearance of Mina and her unusual aura.
"Why are you here, Mina?" Iceheart asked.
"To be with you, Master." Mina replied very casually.
Iceheart had a bad feeling about the sudden change in the situation especially with Kareem and Jax holding back all of a sudden.
"What did you come here for... Mina?" Iceheart asked again.
"To help you, Master." Mina replied with quite the same attitude creeping the creepy witch.
"And why did you bring a sword, Mina?" Iceheart asked as she looked at the sword fearfully.
At that point, the dumb look on Mina’s face disappeared and changed into a crazed smile as she said,
"To kill you... Master!"
In an instance, the Necromancer, whose sword-swinging skill was nothing to even consider, swung a sword taller than herself very masterfully making every sword user around the battle almost kneel and worship.
The sword drew a dreadful are aiming to damn Iceheart to Oblivion in one clean stroke yet Iceheart was nothing but a cunning mage. She expected something wrong and had already an escape plan secured by a teleportation scroll that sucked her body through the void of space but...
"Not so fast!"
The last spec of shadow belonging to Iceheart suddenly came to life. A portal in the shadow opened and a hand hastily appeared grabbing through Iceheart’s teleportation runes and pulling her out from nothingness. Even the fight between Myr and Almion halted to see what was that.
As Iceheart was pulled out grabbed by her neck, she was already out of methods to run. A certain type of chain was wrapped around her body preventing her from using magic or even making any resistance.
"Kill!"
The owner of the hand said one word and Mina who was holding the jet black sword simply stabbed through Iceheart’s heart.
*crack* *crack* *break*
Say what you want about nicknames, the breaking sound made by stabbing Iceheart’s heart was as if a blade cutting through a piece of ice. Funny as it, no one bothered to check out what sort of a heart a dying witch had.
"Master... I... I killed you."
With that stab, Iceheart had a sure death unavoidable no matter what.
"Girl... what have you done?"
Mina was smiling at her Master who questioned in a desperate face what just happened. Forget about the questioning, even Iceheart started to smile.
This was unnatural, it was all unnatural. A student turning on her master, a girl turning on her mother, a smiling killer and a victim. What sort of madness was this turning out to be?
Necromancy may be an evil magic that taints the soul of its user but not every necromancer was evil. Yet this over there, this creepy situation that can’t be explained by any freak of nature... a girl killing her mother. That’s evil.
The sword! It has got to be the sword! That’s the general thought and everyone was right.
Even with news of this traveling a thousand miles to all directions, nothing could describe the dread of this moment. Such a scene of a woman killing another and the two falling into a hysteria of laughter was spine-chilling.
Yet no one had to wait to much for this scene to end, it was ending right away when the lifeless corpse of Iceheart slid down bent on the standing Mina and sudden change happening.
As if a blade demon, Mina charged at the nearest warrior, who happened to be a Worm Knight, swinging that black blade at him. The man only saw a shadow moving and closed his eyes from the scare but the coldness of a blade wound never come. As he opened his eyes, he could see the same shadow portal opening around Mina and a man stepping out of it holding Mina with as many chains as he could.
"Hehehe! At long last."
The man, who was in all Ebony, held the handle of the black blade and started pulling it away from Mina who held onto it never letting go.
"You can’t! You can’t take me! You can’t own me! You can’t possess me! I... You... you are nothing! NOTHING!" Mina struggled to speak in a voice that is not hers.
It felt like the voice of a Daedra. Those who heard the voice of a Daedra before were well aware of how such a voice sounded. Imagine a combination of metal items, forged by the fires of Oblivion in its deepest depth, rattling at each other all mixed with the most dreadful feeling one ever felt. That is the voice of a Daedric Creature, a voice that brings nightmares.
The Man in all Ebony started pulling the blade with one hand and with the other, he was breaking Mina’s bones and fingers one after the other in the most brutal way imaginable.
"CURSE YOU! CURSE YOU! CURSE YO... CURse yoU... cuRSe yOu... curse you... curse..."
The insufferable situation turned the Daedra inhabiting the blade to a tormented ghost tortured by the acts of its captor. The Man in all Ebony displayed mercilessness and heartlessness that made both the Alliance Warriors and the Worm Cultists feel an equal amount of dread. Barely anyone recognized him and those who didn’t pray that he is not on the other side.
Mina’s fingers were all broken and her voice was waning weaker and weaker as she cursed the Man in all Ebony, she was in great suffering as she was forcefully separated from the [Ebony Blade] that almost consumed her mind as the parasite it is.
The Blade knew what is going to happen, it was in Jon’s hands for too long and it wanted to break free from that madman that can resist its effect. Mina was a perfect host in all aspects. No Swordsmanship, no sense of authority, young and compromised. Using her, the Blade could make wonders but instead, it fell back into Jon’s hands.
Jon was the worst possible wielder to the [Ebony Blade], yet the blade suited him the best. Jon was a dominant person with a Tyrannical Aura, he represented the very aspect of control and sadistic nature, enslaving him by the Blade’s whispers is merely some wishful thinking.
Still, this didn’t mean the blade gave up easily. It is fully awakened now meaning the Swordsmanship skill surpassed that of Jon.
———————————
[The Ebony Blade] <Daedric Artifact>
- Fully Awakened (10/10)
- Absorb Vitality
- Fortify Swordsmanship
———————————
Forget about any blade ever forged. Arguably, this is the strongest blade in the world.
Jon carefully controlled the blade and drove it back to its scabbard, the only known object that controls this menace of a blade.
With the sword sheathed, the world could finally breathe again... literally.
Iceheart was lying dead beneath Jon’s feet as everyone heard her heart getting crushed. Actually, that was the crystal Phylactery that her heart was stored inside, an initial process to those who would choose to be Liches.
Aside from Iceheart, Mina was squirming on the ground in a painful state, the Man in all Ebony looked down at her and she looked up at him. Despite being in a chaotic state of mind, Mina recognized the man to be the source of her suffering and put all her strength to get up and catch him but before she could...
*Swoosh*
... do anything, the man pressed and her neck with the end of the scabbard breaking her throat. Mina collapsed before she could even stand and started chugging on her own blood.
Vicious! Too vicious!
The Necromancers may be scum devoid of all humanity but this man was treating them in a whole new level of cruelty. He wasn’t even allowing them to die peacefully.
"High Mage... Krilon?"
From the sidelines, one of the warriors recognized the Man in all Ebony as the leader of the Magic Corps of the HoonDing Alliance, Krilon, the man who makes all the Lords agree on anything before even knowing what that was.
"Don’t mind me. Kill them already."
Jon’s arrogance reached the sky where Myr and Almion were at. He looked up and his grin was widely seen despite the mask on his face.
"Myr, step aside. As the Male Lead, I am here to reclaim what is rightfully mine." Jon spoke as he appeared beside Myr at just a second.
"Oh! You are taking the Spotlight?" (Myr)
"... How did you know?" (Jon)
"You never shut up about." (Myr)
"Good answer." (Jon)
[A/n: Remember to leave Paragraph Comments, Rate and Comments!]
**********
(Part 2)
"You... the [Ebony Blade]... so it was you all along. The Labourer of Azura." Grand Anchorite Almion recognized Jon’s identity from the Blade.
"Yes."
"So it was Krilon of the HoonDing Alliance. We heard about you. You destroyed our partners in Morrowind and caused a lot of ruckus to the Cult wherever you went. Hmph! Today is your day of reckoning, mortal!" Almion fervently screamed.
"Piss off, mosquito!" Jon flipped the bird.
"Hmph! Take this!" Almion was still in a sound mind as he cast a powerful spell towards Jon.
It was a soul absorbing spell that would damage both the living and the dead known as [Bitter Harvest]. Jon wasn’t as skilled in Necromancy as Almion, the Ancient Vampire, but Jon was well aware of the runic structure of the spell.
In a second, he devised a counter-spell that dispels every form Almion’s spell and used it as a shield. Almion caught up to Jon’s trick that would render him open for counterattacks and redirected his spell immediately.
"Sly bastard!" Jon clicked his tongue and watched how the spell curved then descended on the ground between the warring sides.
"He wants to use the corpses on the ground to empower himself." Myr alerted Jon as he saw Almion use this spell once.
"Ahahaha! Dog of Azura, you will never defeat me." Almion was pulling back away trying to gain as much power as he could.
"Trap him!" Jon said.
"On it!’ Myr hastily reacted and swung the [Ansei Ward] he has many times launching a barrage of blades.
Almion evaded as many attacks as he could but he was bound to be hit in the end. Despite the injury, Almion was still active and regenerated almost immediately but that was what Jon needed to launch his attacks.
He was just right beside Almion and before the latter notices it, the head of [Pride] was deep in his guts.
"Clench your teeth!"
Jon cast [Thunder Cookie] from the head of his staff at point-blank. The sudden strike was so terrifying that it blasted away Almion with a big hole in his torso.
Almion crashed down in the ground amidst his forces. Before he could even stand up, Jon struck once again from the sky.
Seeing how many undead there are around Almion, Jon turned the poison on its maker and cast [Corpse Explosion] on all the fallen undead.
*Boom* *Boom* *Boom* *Boom* *Boom* *Boom* *Boom* *Boom* *Boom*
Nothing was left in its place once Jon started attacking. He even tasked Nefertiti to roam the battlefield undetected and disintegrate any fallen corpse into dust.
As his moves were done, Jon waved the staff dusting off the aftermath cloud blocking his view. There, Almion body was in a devastating condition yet still bringing itself altogether.
"Damn... damn you!" Almion was looking at Jon with a deep grudge swilling up in his chest.
Jon is simply destroying everything. It wasn’t hard to imagine that Jon was hiding himself to sabotage the Cult’s force from the shadows ultimately taking down most of the rearguard and crushing Necromancer Iceheart with a dirty move. Almion figured that out at least.
"My Lord... Lord Mannimarco... he is coming. You may think that you are winning but you will never win. I alone can hold you here, I won’t fall no matter what. I am... immortal."
"Fuck you." Jon used his staff as a javelin while casting a spell and throwing it at the same time.
[Pride] pinned Almion by his thigh and the spell on it exploded. It was the [EMP] spell, the electro-magic pulse that renders all the other spells and magical effects useless.
"AAAAAAH! IT BURNS! IT BURNS!"
Almion was shivering on the ground wailing from the pain. It wasn’t just because of Jon’s attack but also because of the effect of the [EMP] spell. As an anti-magic spell, this spell caused the Soul Snare magic and the Sun-Screen magic used by the vampires to dispel for just a moment delivering a massive amount of damage to Almion.
The Vampire bore his fangs and kept screaming as the undead around him were falling one after the other. Hell, he couldn’t even move [Pride] a single bit, the staff itself lashed at him once he tried to use it.
"Know your place, undead. This staff is only meant for one man." Jon pulled [Pride] back as he hovered in the sky above Almion.
Almion crawled with his burnt body as it started regenerating again and again. Jon simply turned Almion from an opponent into a training dummy. With his vast amount of Magicka, maintaining Almion down and maximizing his pain while keeping his Magicka reserve into consideration is a piece of cake.
"Y- You... Monster!" Almion spat out as he screamed.
"What?" Jon questioned again.
"I said... you are a monster! Don’t you ever... ever think that you are a hero! You will be hated as much as us... you are cruel... unforgiving... just like us. They will turn on you... resist you... and break you... Monster!"
"Oh! You were saying I am a monster? Sorry, mate. I am quite far up here. You have to say what you said again. Hehehe!"
Jon’s bad habit of being the sadistic partner in any sort of relationship was quite impressive. Monster or not, he didn’t care anyway. He just didn’t like the Worm Cult at all to begin with. They ruined all his fantasies about being a Necromancer in secret, they are nothing like Nurina who takes it as a field of study, not a way of worship.
"The Lord... he will come..."
"Yes, heard it."
"He will come for me."
"Whatever, dude!"
"And he will avenge me, for I, his... I am who made his shell... hahaha! I molded him a new vessel! The child of agony! I, the creator of the Lord’s vessel!"
"..." This moment, Jon stopped his act and kept listening.
"The Lord... when he comes..."
"No no, not that part. Tell me about the Vessel. You were talking of Zain." Jon had to redirect the conversation.
"Zain? Ah! Hahaha! You are his friend? What about it? Just a mortal... a very lucky mortal. I turned him... gave him my blood. He carried the darkness of the void in agony." Almion said trying to anger Jon more.
"No. You planted the darkness into him. You cursed him with what he hates the most." Jon said.
"Hehe... you know that much? Indeed. We did. He was Labouring for a Daedric Prince but he was the promised one to us, he bore two curses. One from the Void! One from the Blood! He is the greatest thing ever existed and that is merely the requirement to be the vessel of the Lord."
"I see. So Mannimarco reincarnates into Zain’s body and that’s it? No master plan?"
"What... what are you talking about... the Lord... he will conquer all the world... the Crimson Ship..."
"Boring! Conquer the world my ass, that doesn’t even benefit him. If he wants something then it is more death to trap more souls into the Soul Snare spell. I am aware that you are buying time to fix the Soul Snare spell but that’s already too late, I know everything I need."
Jon positioned himself above Almion then canceled the Flight Magic falling directly at Almion. It wasn’t much to be said afterwards, Jon’s butt completely crushed Almion’s head.
"Ouch! That hurts."
Jon stood up after crushing Almion beneath him, he rubbed his butt lightly and stretched his back.
"What was that for?" Myr came down as well standing beside Jon.
"Don’t worry, he is dead." Jon said.
"Dead? No. You see how he keeps coming back. He is..."
"Believe me! If you kill an undead with your butt, it is game over! Finito!"
"I don’t understand. There is no physical evidence that killing an undead with your butt won’t make them come back ag..." Myr was refusing Jon’s claims but the latter kept poking Almion’s body with his staff.
"See? No reaction." Jon said.
Myr looked deeply at Almion but the latter wasn’t regenerating at all. Of course, it is a good thing but he couldn’t buy it until some parts of Almion started to harden and show cracks. Vampires have that strange physiology where they become very dry upon death turning in the end into Vampire Dust, a very rare alchemy component.
"He is... really dead!" Myr was still having a hard time believing it.
"Come on, show some trust over here. A Butt Attack is a bane to all evil."
"No, it isn’t."
"Try butting one of those undead."
"It won’t work."
"Hmph! As stubborn as Mirren and as Realistic as Miranda indeed." Jon ignored him and observed the ongoing battle.
The fight has escalated further from the main battlefield but by now, everyone must know about the fall of Almion. The cult will fall back but their rearguard won’t pudge as no one is controlling it.
To describe what happened next is to describe a slaughter. Not only the Alliance and the Citadel that attacked the Cult but lo and behold, the cavalry have arrived as well. General Cassia, King Abbas, the Seventh Legion and the Army of Sentinel.
One order was on everyone’s mind, "Take no prisoners!"
[A/n: Remember to leave Paragraph Comments, Rate and Comments!]
**********
(Part 3)
"To think that you would arrive this late?" Isha said while washing her face from a copper basin.
"I had things to take care of. Also, I’ve done my part." Jon replied giving his back to her.
As she finished taking care of the cuts on her face, she turned around and stood beside Jon. In front of the two was a large bed with a golden aura surrounding it, around the bed where most of the important figures of the Citadel of Ebonarm, the HoonDing Alliance, the Seventh Legion and the Court of Sentinel.
However, on the bed was a masked woman in a state worse than anyone could have imagined.
"They say she suffered over a hundred wound." Isha said.
"I know. Most of her wounds are already infected as well. It’s a miracle she didn’t bleed to death." Jon said.
"Lord Krilon, it is of absolute importance that Lady Laila be present in battle. She held the lines for almost four hours on her own, she is a major inspirational effect for the soldiers. Is there no spell or ritual to heal..."
"There is no point in healing." To whoever spoke earlier, Jon cut him short, "After a certain degree, the body doesn’t respond to healing. This is not about the magic ability but about the blueprint of the body itself, the Astral Form. When it fades so much after over-exhausting one’s self, it is almost impossible to heal unless it recovers on its own."
All the ones present in the room remained respectfully silent until Jon finished his words.
"Huh?" However, the one who asked was still not sure of what Jon was talking about.
Forgetting that he was talking to a bunch of warriors, Jon adjusted his speech.
"She exhausted her soul, healing needs the soul to rebuild the body on it as a base."
"Does this mean..."
"No, she is not dying but she may never wake up if her soul doesn’t recover on its own. Ultimately dying. She needs your prayers." Jon said those words and walked out followed by most of the Lords.
"Lord Krilon, the plan to attack..."
"Lord Krilon, the thing about distributing..."
"Lord Krilon, we need to discuss..."
Jon looked back at the people following him and they all went silent.
"The fight is tomorrow before first light. Get some rest, gentlemen. We will hold a meeting during the march."
Ultimately after the big show of his power, Jon was seen as the number one figure of the whole Alliance. Someone like the King of Sentinel can’t be simply ordered around by the small Prince of Stros M’kai making Jon the supreme commander by default. Still, he left it all to Kareem and went to brood over the sun fall alone.
A cold wind passed by him in that state making him smile faintly.
"That’s a whiff from Skyrim."
"Indeed. How I miss her!"
Looking at the back, it was General Cassia.
"Can we talk?"
"Leave me be, Woman."
"I’m your goddamn aunt."
"Tsk!"
"Heard that!"
She walked beside him and pointed for his mask to remove it. He gave a long sigh before taking it away and turning to her.
"How can I be of service?" Jon ever so patiently asked.
"What brought you out of Skyrim?" She asked.
"I’m banished." He said.
"You are... for all I can think about, you could have banished that little King of your country on your own and replaced him. The tales about how you fought today... you are more of a Monster than any Firemane I know." She said.
"You don’t know me."
"No, I don’t. Still, seeing them all caring about the War Chief of the Citadel is strange, aren’t you the Hero of the Day?" She asked.
"How sly of you! Trying to turn me on them, woman?"
"No... of course, not."
"Listen. I am not a Hero, the War Chief is. The damn woman fought on her own blocking a whole wing for the forces to retreat for hours. I just came and ended things? You think I am a symbol? If you Imperials know of me, you’d know I hate wars. In a war, I’d rather be they Symbol of Fear rather than the Symbol of Hope. Fear ends wars, hope drags them on." Jon bluntly spoke out his philosophy to an Imperial General.
"Sigh! I had enough of you Firemanes for one lifetime, and now you. Perfect!" Cassia couldn’t help but sigh.
Jon remained silent but he laughed at the end.
"So? What do you want?" He asked.
"The Emperor is interested in your movements. You keep making trouble for his Imperial Majesty and the Ancestor Moth Cult is trying to track you with all their efforts."
"I’m not free to play politics with you Imperials. You are so slow at understanding things."
"Really?"
"I just told you I want to be alone. See that King of Sentinel and those Redguard Lords? They understood it right away and took their distance. You Imperials ain’t that bright after all."
"If this was a social talk, I would have stayed away."
"I know it isn’t a social talk. Why do you think I want to be left alone?"
"You know... you are more of an asshole than your uncle Bladur." She said.
"Come on! He’s nice... he is just too shy to show it." Jon laughed.
"Anyway, I came for you to inquire about your movements for the coming period. The Imperial Court is insisting to keep you monitored."
"Well... I’ll be spending some time roaming the Continent and maybe Oblivion until mid-year 201. I’ll go home after that."
Cassia narrowed her eyes not buying what Jon just said.
"A problem?" He asked.
"A powerhouse like you should have a fixed post. You can hardly be considered a normal citizen of the Empire and as you now, the Empire doesn’t want to house potential traitors."
"Wow! Big words! For a powerhouse, I am still young and inexperienced, I want to travel the world and try things."
"Young? Inexperienced? Your name comes up in the Imperial Court and the best officials try to skip the damn meeting."
"Haha!"
"I’m just conveying what I was told. Listen, Jon. Show some loyalty to your Nation. The Empire will always be behind you if you prove your goodwill."
"My Goodwill? My goodwill has been proven over and over again. As I said, the Imperials are just too stupid and narrow-minded to see things right. I have favored your cause, I didn’t join hands with Ulfric, I killed every Thalmor dog whenever I come across one, I became the Champion of your Arena hailing the Emperor’s name, I support each and every action taken by the Empire against its enemies..."
"But Jarl Ulfric Stormcl..."
"Yet the least courtesy you damn faithless Imperials can spare me is not to keep asking me to aim my blade at a brother Nord."
Jon’s tension was clear at this moment.
"We just want fewer casualties."
"That can be arranged. Winterhold is not involved. It is a safe haven. A piece of frozen wasteland to the North with a non-aggression pact to all parties, those who enter it are safe, those who wage war already know what they are messing with. General, if the war machine of Winterhold entered the battle me on its lead, what do you think the outcome will be?"
The mere thought of Winterhold going to war was already experimented on an army of 10000 Nords with their Voice Masters combined with 4000 Dominion Soldiers and Ten Arch Wizards. The Battle of Winterhold, the Battle of Forsworn-Jon Dare, the Clash of Bloodsails and the Firemanes. These three events are all under the belt of Winterhold and Jon Dare. Add to that the things that went under the record such as today’s battle, it is already easy to imagine Jon Dare being the Shadow King of a Nation called Winterhold. The Imperial Court can’t let such a thing go uncontrolled but what can be done?
Each Era, there are remarkable heroes that rise to change the world and affect the very core of politics. Jon Dare is certainly such a person and his name was already recorded by many as a person of a great impact on the political situation during the Fourth Era. Such a feat is enough to make the 19 years old Jon Dare be proud for the rest of his life.
The shadow of such a great young man can cover an entire nation such as Skyrim and may one day cover the Empire as well. That’s what the others think, not what Jon thinks.
"So, what do you want to tell the Imperial Court, Viscount Jon?" Cassia took out a paper and a quill demanding an official statement from Jon that goes directly to the Emperor’s court.
"Tell them, you motherfuckers has more things to worry about than me. Haven’t I told you about ’em dragons?"
***
It was a long day, afternoon and sunset. Jon laid down beside a bonfire resting his on Aela’s lap.
"I’m glad you joined us, girl."
"Yeah, I missed you boy anyway."
"Hmmm!" "Hmmm!"
Seeing the two love birds commence a strange ritual of bringing their heads closer and rubbing their noses together, Isha lashed out immediately.
"You two go get a room!" She said throwing a waterskin at Jon and Aela.
"Says the one who takes the poor boy into a bush." Jon threw it back at her.
"*Sob* My dearest Mirren, if you still hear me, come out already. Don’t worry, I am still faithful to you, my cute honey boo." Isha hugged Myr and started rubbing her face at his shoulder right away.
"I don’t think it is time..." Myr tried to say something for herself but Jon lashed out this time.
"Hey, I get a 50% share in that!" He said.
"You got your girl! Leave them to me!" Isha carried Myr away by herself.
"Wait!" Jon was about to chase her but Aela pulled him down by force.
"You are still sweet on that elf, Firemane boy." Aela’s stare was cold.
"Come on, girl, don’t be this naive. You know I take care of my family. Come here."
Normally, the night before the big battle requires a lot of preparation and planning but no one even expected to reach this far against the Worm Cult other than Jon and his team. From now on, it will solely rely on Jon spearheading the attack with four armies supporting him.
For sure, it was a lot of pressure but now, the armies are gathered at the edge of the desert near a small farm after camping around and abandoned town with freshwater sources and a good strategic position.
From far, they should be able to see the city of Hegathe but ever since it was taken by the Worm Cult, the city didn’t put on that much light so it was impossible to see anything before dawn.
"May the sun of tomorrow be the most gentle sun ever warmed the world." Not too far from the camp, a voice was heard praying.
It was none other than the Moth Priest Kellen and his friend Nagh.
"You two are here? Haven’t I let you go?" Jon said.
"I remember that Lord Krilon has promised us a certain prize if we did a certain service for him." Kellen said.
"Nagh thinks that Lord Krilon is a generous person... and powerful. This one still thinks we can just go." Nagh seemed to be reluctant about the matter they are after.
It was only natural for they were asking Jon to give them an Elder Scroll.
"I see. Here."
Without much saying, Jon flicked his fingers and the [Elder Scroll (Forgotten)] appeared.
"By Ysmir!" Aela saw the scroll and all her senses felt as if they were cheating her, "You are giving them your scroll?"
"No! That’s another one." Jon replied.
"You had another one?"
"Picked it up the other day. It was this guy’s anyway." Jon said casually tossing the scroll to Kellen. "Leave a good word for me with your Elders. Last time, I think I left the Ancestor Moth Cult running in circles."
Jon’s intentions were clear. The Cult of the Ancestor Moth has a lot of influence in the Imperial Court, once he is good to them, no one from the Imperial Court will miss with him anyway.
It is strange that even after his retirement, they are still bothered by his actions and opinions. It was easy to understand, the House of Dare is basically the ruling faction of Winterhold and the Unification of the Firemanes and the Moonblades, a power that can’t be commanded around except by Jon Dare.
Also, it was clear that by Cassia’s existence, the identity of Krilon is soon about to be exposed to the world.
It was alright anyway. The need for those many identities has finally come to an end. What separates Jon Dare from Skyrim is one... only one last fight.
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