The mood of the council had taken a hard turn. At the mention of the Infernal Horde, they became grim and somber. It was hard to believe that only a moment ago they were so cheered by Kaldalis’s arrival, and his promise to do his part to help them save their world. Now they seemed like a war council facing an indomitable threat.

“When your expedition arrived, it landed on Mallia,” Kran began to explain, “and that is the only reason you are still here. If you had landed on the western island, in the region we once called Clai Plya, you would have faced a different category of Infernal Horde, and you would have been driven back out to sea, or killed.”

“The storm,” Kaldalis said quietly. “And the Nautilobster attack. It took us off course.”

“Yes,” one of the younger Lataxinans said. It was Jurah again, the one who had seemed the most embittered by Monsoon’s actions. “If it were not for that meeting, you would never have been able to build your encampment, let alone meet us here.”

“Some of us believe that some external force caused the storm and the attack,” another added, “but we have no way of knowing who or why.”

Kaldalis believed Monsoon might have caused it, because of the way the questlines had arisen from it, including the big dramatic choice between sticking with the boat or saving his friends from the sea monster. It was the perfect big set piece for them to draw all eyes on their new attraction. But that wasn’t important.

“So what would have happened if we’d landed on Clai Plya?” Kaldalis asked.

“The Infernal Horde comes in three forms,” Kran said, holding up three webbed fingers. “Their bodies are formed of the essence of The Paths that has been displaced by the Great Shovel. The first sort are the weakest individually. The Elementals. Beings of pure fire, water, wind, earth, light, and dark, or of their associated afflictions, burn, poison, gust, slow, seal, and sleep. If you would have landed on Clai Plya, you would have come up against them.”

“And that would have been worse than what we’ve been facing?” Kaldalis asked. “If they are individually weaker, wouldn’t that have been easier?”

“The Elementals are more numerous, and more mindless,” Kran explained. “You would have faced them from the first day you landed, and they would have attacked unceasingly until you were forced away. They are weaker than what you’ve fought, but they are still much stronger than the wildlife native to these islands. Imagine if you hadn’t been given the opportunity to gain system levels before the fight against the Syncoresi? And if you could not have gotten to the Sunken Ruins to learn one of our techniques before the raid by the Malum?”

Kaldalis nodded. He didn’t necessarily agree that they could not have handled the threat, especially with powerful Alpha players like Garyung, Deytambos, and Gabriel. But it did sound like it would have been a lot nastier for the adventurers who had just joined. Not to mention the struggles of the NPCs, who could not respawn if they slipped up even once.

“What you have faced are the Conceptuals,” Kran continued, “formed of non-elemental concepts. The Syncoresi are beings formed out of the concept of Forgiveness. The Malum are formed of violence. The Xorn are of Dominance, and the Globin are of Life. You did not face them personally yet, but your friend Courbois gave you information about the Dryads of wilderness and the Tahul of change.”

“The conceptuals are almost intelligent,” one of the others added. “Unlike the elementals, they experience growth and form memories. After all these centuries, they’ve developed a crude mimicry of something like a pack predator’s social structure.”

Kaldalis believed that it was more advanced than that. He’d seen the Syncoresi engaged in a sort of primitive farming. But now wasn’t the time to split hairs. Nor was it the time to start a philosophical fight about the potential personhood of a natural disaster just because it was bipedal and had the capacity to learn.

“Their intelligence is actually a weakness,” Kran said, steepling his fingers under his fuzzy chin dramatically. “It made them attack you in predictable waves, to muster and siege instead of simply running at you non-stop from the second you arrived on the island. In fact, it made them interact with the system instead of forcing the system to bend around their whims. It made them gather in dens so that you have a point to attack and greatly damage their pack structure and scatter their numbers.”

“That does sound more manageable,” Kaldalis said. He thought a moment longer and then nodded. “I think I understand what you mean. But why couldn’t we fight them here when they arrive? I think we’re strong enough, and if we begin a more targeted training, we could hold the line.”

“There are two problems with that,” Kran said with a smirk. “Hold the line for what? Do you want to fight forever? The Infernal Horde will not stop until the Great Shovel is unmade and its damage to the Paths is repaired. And we can’t do that from here. We need to return to our world. If you are here fighting in our defense, then you are not there, orchestrating our return.”

“And the second problem?” Kaldalis asked.

“There is a third type of Infernal Horde,” Kran said, holding up his three fingers again. “The Abstracts. The essence that forms them is ineffable. Neither matter, nor mental. They are more powerful than their counterparts, and nearly impossible to fight. They are large, rare, and - we suspect - may be actually intelligent.” He held up just one finger. “If even a single Abstract is formed here, the fight is over. The dome will hold for only as long as it can stand up to an Abstract’s attention. Even if all of your kind were here to defend us, you could not stop that.”

Kaldalis pictured some kind of horrible anime demon lurking in the Paths Between Paths. A giant thinly-veiled phallic symbol looming over the innocent civilians here, as an ominous portent of doom.

“Obviously,” Kaldalis said, “I was just wondering. It’s not like I’ve ever had problems with deadlines before. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

A few of the younger Lataxinans let out snorts of laughter at that.

Kaldalis knew they’d been watching over his shoulder, after all.

They knew his record on timed objectives had been hit-or-miss so far.

“We have our tools,” Kran said, giving a sidelong glare to the members of the council still giggling at Kaldalis. “All we need is for you to fetch your own. You must gain entry to Dymythrae. Fight your way to the forbidden tablets, and learn Azor’s Binding. Return to us, and we will undo the Calamity, returning our world to its natural state.”

There was more to it than that, Kaldalis knew. Gaining entry to Dymythrae would involve a whole adventure of its own. The Contender needed to be dealt with. Either they had to work with him to resolve his investigation, or they had to work against him to get him and his forces off the island. Or they needed to slip around him and get a raid group into the dungeon without fighting him.

No matter how he handled it, he was going to need all the help he could get. Because he didn’t have time to play around with this timetable.

“You’ve given me a lot to do,” Kaldalis said at last. “But I promise to do my best.”

“And you’ve given us a lot as well,” Kran said. “A path to return home. An ally in our quest to make our world our own again. And most of all, hope. We will remember this kindness, Kaldalis.”

The council dismissed Kaldalis, needing to begin the plans for their return. Kaldalis didn’t mind it, though. The sooner he got back to Cotanaku, the sooner he could start trying to plan his next steps. If the Contender was going to be as difficult as he expected, then he might end up testing exactly how long the Lataxinans could hold out.

Grent was Kaldalis’s guide back to the exterior of the dome. Kaldalis hadn’t seen them in the meeting, so he wasn’t sure if they had overheard the discussion. But they seemed to understand that Kaldalis didn’t have the time to spare on continuing the tour.

“I appreciate your help,” Kaldalis said as they crossed the farmland on the outer ring of the dome. “I promise I’ll do all I can to get you back to your proper home.”

“There is one more boon I wish to give you,” Grent said, fumbling around his robe before producing a bit of metal from an inner pocket. “Not just from me, but from all of us.”

Kaldalis accepted the gift, and on closer inspection, it appeared to be a silver ring set with a round black stone. He was surprised to find that it fit his left middle finger, considering the difference in size and proportion between him and the Lataxinans.

“This will have no obvious effect here,” Grent warned, “but once you’re back in our world, it will allow you unprecedented growth within the system.”

“Really?” Kaldalis said, looking at the bit of jewelry with growing curiosity. “How?”

“If our understanding of the system is correct,” Grent explained, “it will accumulate power over time. Once each day, that power can be released. While active, the power will dramatically increase your growth.” The Lataxinan gestured vaguely for a second, searching for the word. “Your rate of experience gain will be increased. Though I believe they said it would only affect experience gained from defeating foes, not generated within the system from quests.”

Kaldalis felt a sense of growing excitement. Increased experience growth? That was just what he needed to get himself properly prepared for the raid. “Thank you, Grent. I promise to put it to good use.”

“No, thank you,” Grent said. “This is a small gift indeed in comparison to the hope you’ve given all of us." They pointed up at the door to the airlock that would take him out of the dome. “Once you are no longer in contact with the surface, Kaia’s Flicker should return you to where you were.”

“Good,” Kaldalis said as Grent led him up the stairs towards the exit. “Will that be all?”

“Yes,” Grent said, though Kaldalis could see the uncertainty in their beady eyes. “I will try to be here waiting for you when you return with Azor’s Binding, so that I can bring you to the council again.”

“I’ll be here,” Kaldalis promised. “I’m going to make this right. I swear.”