A lone rider sped through a field of bodies. Everywhere he looked, there were rotting carcasses polluting the dead land. However, the usual crows and vultures were competing with an usual new group of scavengers.

Groups of armored men were also scattered everywhere. Covered from head to toe in metal, these people embodied the meaning of dull and gray. They stacked the dead and loaded them onto carts which seem to move on their own. Alarmingly, there were also metallic spiders picking the bodies apart.

The rider avoided them as best he could. At the very least, he could take comfort in the fact that the mysterious people weren’t hostile to him and ignored him.

After what seemed like an eternity of death and decay, the horseman arrived at his destination. Stopping in front of a battered wooden gate, he shouted towards the men in the walls. “Open the gate! I have an important message for King Zigisma!”

The gate commander leaned against the wall and shouted at the rider in a language he couldn’t understand. He had thought that the commander denied him access until the large gates opened slowly for him.

Inside, the castle was cleaned of the dead, but the signs of battle were still present. The buildings within were torn, there was blood everywhere, and there were craters all over the place. It was odd considering that the walls looked brand new, as if a battle only occurred within the walls.

The rider kicked his horse forward and zigzagged through the fort until he reached Agrianos’ residence. The building was busy and populated with priests rushing about, tending to the wounded, though most of the healers were injured themselves. Inside the meeting room, Agrianos was talking to the fort’s leaders until he noticed a messenger entering the room.

“A message for King Zigisma!” the rider announced.

“What is it?” Zigisma responded.

“My king, I was scouting far north until I discovered terrible news. Many of the bastions have fallen and undead are now spilling into the borderlands.”

“How could this be?!” Zigisma gasped.

“The Church used the Weapon on at least three of the bastions before they moved it here.”

“That makes sense.” Agrianos scowled and rubbed his forehead. “How far north?”

“My lord, it’s close to the borders between the Kojan Wall and the Undead Front. It’s practically what divides the dead from the demons,” the messenger replied.

“Could those monsters be allies?” Zigisma groaned.

“There’s that possibility, but they have no reason to be allies. But then again, it’s too much of a coincidence that both the kojans and the undead are attacking now,” Agrianos suspected.

“We need to respond to the threat! The borderlands must not fall!” Zigisma exclaimed.

Agrianos raised his hand and said, “We shall do so, King Zigisma. The other bastions must be on the move now, as with the border nations. The fact that we took this fort from the dead means that the Church is beatable.”

“Then that means…” Zigisma muttered.

The old archpriest nodded and turned around. From the shadows, Exarchi stepped forward. After explaining the situation to the drone in Rhankish, Exarchi said, “Then the Varangians will go northwards. Our job here is done.”

“We’ll join you northwards but only half-way,” Captain Rems interjected. “The Aviognese will act as support.”

Suddenly, Oyuf slammed the door open and entered the room half-drunk. One of his legs were fully dressed in bandages, and he had a huge grin on his face. “Friends and lads! What’s with the gloomy atmosphere? We’ve beaten’ those brainless whoresons in their own lands! We should be celebrating!”

“Oyuf fal Kentfeared. The Varangians are going north to beat both the kojans and the undead together with one punch. Would you be interested in joining us?” Rems offered.

“Oi, Rhank. It’s Oyuf af Kentfeared. It’s a regional dialect.”

“Yes, yes. Peasant language escapes me. Are you joining us?”

“Bloody hell...Aye! Count me and my boys in!” Oyuf declared. “And you, Archpriest? Are you joining us?”

Agrianos shook his head. “I’m afraid not. This battle has affected my health a bit. I want to return to Rhankia to recover my health.”

“Ah, well, it’s a good searing for you, me lord! Humanos wouldn’t spite ya for leaving now!” Oyuf cheered.

“Very well, then. The Varangians are released from my contract. King Zigisma, I hand the wardenship of the castle to you and your people,” Agrianos said.

“My lord, the castle and the land around it?” Zigisma asked with wide eyes.

“If you can make it work, indeed. Many of my priests will stay to assist you, but in due time, your people will become the sole protectors of this land.”

“I thank you, Archpriest! In honor of this event, I shall name this castle ‘Exarchi’s Defiance’!” Zigisma declared.

The people in the room cheered though the target of honor was unamused as usual. Exarchi left the room but not before saying, “Do whatever you want. I have work to do.”

Once he was back inside the inner keep, he opened up his hivespeak and said, ‘Princeps, report.’

‘Reply. Large number of material obtained. Outpost Unit running at 72.33% efficiency. A proper base has to be built in order to increase this efficiency.’

‘We’re not staying here for long. The organics are having trouble dealing with the undead up north, close to the kojans. We’re packing up soon and relocating there.’

‘Acknowledged. I will return to the main base once an outpost is set.’

‘Affirmative. Have you found anything interesting so far?’ Exarchi asked.

‘Observation. Great quantities of equipment, soon to be melted into materials. Odd stones to be sent back to Magus for proper identification. Small number of miscellaneous items such as clothing to be processed.’

‘There isn’t a weapon like the blue sword we found before?’

‘Negative.’

Exarchi sighed and said, ‘Very well. I’ll start packing up here. Exarchi out.’

Two figures blended into a forest as they observed a large mountain dotted with machineries of every kind. At the base of the mountain was a large slowly-developing village dotted with strange technology. It was none other than Mount Varangia!

“Strange. It’s both of our ancient enemies,” a figure said with a voice that resembled branches breaking and rocks being crushed.

“We failed to root them out, now they’ve come to haunt us,” replied the other.

“Our failures—here to punish us.”

The other figure, a tree-like being encased by a set of metal armor, shook his head. The leaves on his head shook and caused the birds sitting on him to fly away. “There is no use dwelling in the past. I must awaken the other kojans in the region.”

“But still, for the tilapolas and the war-machines to work together…”

“There must be a reason that is beyond our current understanding. The Maker devised the war-machines to be unpredictable. Many wars were fought, and many war-machines had fallen before us. This one is no different. Once we gather more intelligence, we shall know.”

“Indeed. All of them were stranger than the last. However, this one…” The kojan took out a long one-sided blade and pointed it straight at Mount Varangia and continued, “will also fall to the might of the vigilants.”

“Do not underestimate them.”

“I shan’t. Now, let us go, my liege.”

The two kojans left the forest, but unbeknownst to them, Custodian was watching from afar through several drones hidden within the forest. ‘What are those things?’ Custodian thought to itself.

‘Master Custodian! I think they’re the kojans! How delightful! They’ve come to us so we don’t have to go to them!’ Niner excitedly shouted in hivespeak.

‘Hmm. I see. They don’t look friendly. I’m activating defensive procedures,’ Custodian declared.

Niner sighed, then muttered, ‘Though it would kill production greatly, I suppose we got no choice. We’re activating the dungeon defenses!’