Chapter 173

Ajimal The Great

Sidhertha, the Uprising that Changed a Nation

Ajimal The Great floated over the broken remains of the Sidherthan capital. From the air he could see everything. He had of course dreamed of moments just like this, moments where he would be overseeing an army that brought the once might Sidherthan empire, the thorn forever in his side, to its knees.

Still, he could not help but feel that the view that was unfolding below him was in any way what he had hoped for. He watched as desperate men fought to take back the lands that were their own. He saw the folly of a King who had abandoned the need of his own people.

Ajimal himself stayed out of the battle. First this was not his war, these were not his people. At first, he did not in fact care who, if anyone, won. For at the end of the day this was just a Sidherthan Civil war. At the end of the day another Sidherthan would be left in charge.

At least that was what Ajimal thought at first. But then he saw the desperation that the men fought with. The way the followed a boy who looked more like a wayward shepherd than a fighting genius that he was. He watched that wayward shepherd lay waste to the guards and their defenses.

Ajimal watched as the starving masses dug deep and fought against an oppressive regime. He saw men, normal men rallying troops to dig down, fight harder. Armed with sharped sticks that were wielded as pikes. Many would have been mowed down in an open battlefield by one good calvary charge. But they were not in an open battlefield. They were in an urban environment. Here the only thing that mattered was grit determination, and luck. At least that is what Ajimal thought at first.

But the more he watched, the more he saw the tide of battle turn slowly towards the invaders. He noticed how they had a conviction and zeal that could not be denied. That refused to be denied. He watched as they seemed to fight with the strength and conviction of their very souls. As if it was their souls that were giving them the powers to overcome the challenges before them. Then in a moment of insight, he realized, that was exactly what was happening.

The standard citizens of Sidhertha, those who had no magical powers or abilities, they were standing their own against mages. Trained Sidherthan mages.

Ajimal watched as a mage created a flame of fire that he threw at a wave of incoming warriors. It was clear that the act was done to keep the men at bay, that he didn’t want to use the flames to hurt the invaders. Then he watched as one of the invaders with a sharpened wooden spike for a weapon charged forward, through the flames and impaled the mage, despite a torrent of flames now coming right at his face. The crazed man, then twisted the makeshift spear within the sternum of the mage, until the mage died.

Watching this feat of strength, Ajimal was impressed. Flames that should have consumed the man whole did nothing to him. This wasn’t the only case of battlefield heroics done by peasants. Over and over Ajimal watched as similar stories played out. Men and women who had not one ounce of mana within them were able to summon forth a deeper power within themselves and crush the enemy mages.

Again, this type of predicament played out for the invading shepherds, as the mages who would normally employ large scale flame attacks, were unable to do so in the confines of their own city. What had started as an uprising that should have been easy to defeat and repel became anything but.

Ajimal found himself looking on in horror as he realized this was a new form of fighting unit, a new form of opponent that his own forces were not ready to face.

He had originally stayed to watch the development of Lykan Vov’Vita, to see if he would forgive him. To see if he would help remove the curses that had been laid upon him.

Before witnessing this battle, he thought that he would have been able to easily handle anything this rag-tag group of peasant farmers had to throw at him. But now, after witnessing the battle slowly turn in the favor of the oppressed, Ajimal was glad he had avoided taking sides. If anything, he lamented not having taken an active role in the defeat of the Sidherthan military, now. Had he known about this new form of soldier one who seemed to draw internal energy to fight, he would have gladly joined the rebels if only to create an alliance with the group.

Still, he knew such an act would have only been seen as yet another ploy by a foreign dictator to seize advantage of the situation. Worse, if he joined the battle, if he assisted with the invasion, Ajimal might miss the moment Lykan, and his companion left. Then his whole purpose for being here would have been for nothing.

No, for the time he was content to see the advents of the war unfolding below him. This marked a great reprieve from his normal duties, of running and maintaining an empire.

In a way, this was the closest he could ever be to being a true spectator.

As he looked down below, he almost wondered if this was what Lykan did all the time. He wondered if Lykan did something similar when he entered Ajimal’s territory.

Once again, he cursed himself for not actively going after the man when he had the chance. He had sent his sister, the seductress, but she had failed in her pursuits. Instead, it was a dwarf that had gained Lykan’s attention.

This was odd. This whole thing was odd.

At one-point Ajimal himself wondered if Lykan was a Cerusian, part of the ancient magi killers, the bogymen of mages everywhere. He had been almost certain that there was nothing to the rumors, until recently a report of a girl going missing from a village. A girl who had been rescued by a pair of warriors who had been more than capable of killing the soldiers that they incapacitated. But instead left a trail of bodies as a warning to leave the girl alone.

Again, there was a slight problem, as in that same forest a group of known Cerusians were identified. Identified, but their secret base was never uncovered.

Then when Ajimal got summoned from the north, on a desperate attempt to find the chosen of the gods. That was when he came across a small girl in the care and protection of Lykan. A girl that was now missing from their control.

Ajimal himself had no chance to check if there were any reports about the incident, but that was not a concern at this time. It was clear that the girl had been dropped off somewhere as only Lykan and the Dwarf female came back.

After watching her, it was clear that she too was a powerhouse, even more powerful than his sister.

No, the more he watched the man, the more Ajimal himself was intrigued by this chosen of the gods. The man was a natural disaster of chaos. Every step of the way, he seemed to buck and defy the odds of what was to be expected.

The man was a walking contradiction. Dressed in rags, he was by far the most formidable warrior out here. He might first appear to be humble, but there was a deep inner strength that he possessed. A strength that refused to be extinguished.

He was a man who looked like he hadn’t had a meal in days. That he was one strong gust of wind away from being blown over, but when he moved there was an undeniable power of momentum behind each stride.

No, the more Ajimal thought about this Lykan, the more he realized this battle playing out below, was just a microcosm of the sweeping changes that Lykan would bring to this land.

If he chose to fight for a side, the peasants would rise in revolt.

Again, normally such an uprising would not be something to worry about, but with him and the way he was going, this would be too much for most nations to handle. He had the spark of divinity inside of him, of that Ajimal was certain more so than anything else.

“Thank you for making me see this. Thank you for letting me see the inevitability that is to come.” Ajimal said to the gods. Gods that he knew for a fact had their very eyes peeled to the events that were unfolding below.

Then as if the gods had read his mind, a gentle rain began to fall. Ajimal floated there, watching the world change below him, as one corrupted regime fell to another. Then he had received the ultimate gift for his patience.

Curse Removed: Unappealing. Unappealing: The Gods have seen your actions and found you to no longer be lacking. Your body no longer gives off a sickening smell of rot. This curse has been removed by thy own actions and deeds. Curse Removed: Poison Tongue. Poison Tongue: The Gods have seen your actions and found you to no longer be lacking. Your voice no longer drips with venom. This curse has been removed by thy own actions and deeds. Curse Removed: Echelon Drop. Echelon Drop: The Gods have seen your actions and found you to no longer be lacking. For the sake of measuring bonuses, all your Attributes, Skills, and Magical Abilities will return to their natural Echelon, when determining your overall capabilities. This curse has been removed by thy own actions and deeds.

One after another, the three curses that had been placed on him, were removed. Ajimal knew now that his true purpose for being here had been achieved. The Gods wanted to show that Lykan was inevitable. That he was their chosen.

While Ajimal did not know what plans the gods had for this world, he realized now that as quickly as the gods granted blessings, such blessings could be removed within a second.

In his heart, Ajimal knew he could return home and never have to worry about interacting with Lykan again. That he could put this whole event behind him. It was clear that Lykan had no grand schemes of world conquest.

But Ajimal decided to wait anyways. He wanted to give this meeting with the man who could change the world by merely walking down the wrong road, by witnessing the wrong atrocity, a chance.

Such was the meaning to be a being as powerful as Lykan, one who could change not only their fates, but those around them by sheer will alone.

That was the true intent of this trip. That was what Ajimal felt in his core that he was meant to take away from this random encounter.

So, he watched, as days went by.

The invading shepherds gained more strength and were emboldened by their own success. Success that they apparently all doubted, which was why the start had been the difference of a coin flip.

Now that they had more time to see the changes that were possible. Now that they had all seen what they were all truly capable of, if they believed in themselves, they were unstoppable.

The invading shepherds were no longer content to just reclaim their homes in the outer districts. Now they wanted to press on, to take more than what they were originally owed. What was rightfully theirs to begin with.

Now that they had the power to seize even more, they took more. Until finally they met a point where they took things that should not be taken.

This was the point when Ajimal felt he could no longer stand by and watch. As he looked on, he saw the men who were so emboldened by their successes, that they decided to take maidens from the streets.

Witnessing this, a vile pit of anger grew in Ajimal’s stomach. One he quickly acted on, as he called forth the lightning of the heavens to strike down all who would force themselves on women, men, children. While he was content to let the invaders win against the oppressive regime that Sidhertha had become. He would not allow such deviance to stand on his watch.

ZZAPPP!

Lightning bolts after lightning bolts struck down the men who had become embolden with their own personal strength. Personal strength that had nothing to offer as a form of resistance to Ajimal’s fury.

The women, seeing their savior floating in the air, instantly knew him for what he was. Torn between thanking their savior, Ajimal the Conqueror, the women he had saved banded together and went towards a cellar system. That would have to be good enough for now, as Ajimal realized that there were likely similar events happening all over the city. Events he would stop at all costs.