Asteria

Oh, it is on!

How dare those Eatuheans attack me and Elsa!

I’d been too naïve. I’d ignored the war since my mission from the goddess was to eliminate the virus. What was it to me if one group of humans slaughtered another group? As goddess’ chosen representative, I wanted to focus on my quest instead of getting caught up in a centuries-long conflict.

I shouldn’t have assumed that the Eatuheans would leave me alone if I left them alone.

How dare they?

The spiritual plane was supposed to be a peaceful refuge for dead souls, and a place for young shamans to be trained. I had never heard of anyone being attacked there.

To think that anyone would be so depraved as to bring violence into the higher realm made me feel sick to my stomach.

In truth, angels spent most of their time healing and guiding heroes. It’s just that violence is considered more exciting, so most of the legends about them talk about angels raining down fire and brimstone. I’ve always thought of myself as the type of demigod who went around helping and curing people, but now…

I was going to show the Eatuheans that I wasn’t someone they could mess with.

I opened my eyes and stood up. Elsa would be fine, but I kept her in a healing trance to give her more time to recover. I took down the shield around us and turned to the others. “Nothing to worry about, guys. I’ve got it all under control.”

I let Seraphiel fuss over me as much as he wanted for the rest of the day while I plotted my next move. After all, they do say that revenge is a dish best served cold.

That night before I went to sleep, I sent the chibis to reconnoiter the spiritual realm and the continent of Eatuhea. I needed to know exactly what they were up to.

Elsa woke up the next day, and she seemed fine. I could tell why she had been chosen… She was one tough cookie!

I told her what had happened, which didn’t surprise her in the least. Apparently, the Eatuhean shamans had always claimed to have some sort of mystic powers and control over a higher plane of consciousness. This was common knowledge, so it hadn’t occurred to her that I wouldn’t know about it.

I should’ve done more research!

Determined to rectify that mistake, I spent the next few days in the lake compound’s tiny library, which was enough to give me the gist of this world’s history, although it made my candy consumption skyrocket.

The Eatuheans believe they had the right to rule over everyone since they used to be the center of culture, commerce, and industry in the world. During the heyday of the Eatuhean Empire, they had colonies all over Verden.

Time and time again, they sought to invade the other continents but were repelled by the allied defending armies. Despite their repeated losses, they could never be fully defeated since they always retreated behind the unbreakable shield that protected the last tiny remnant of the once-huge Eatuhean continent.

As in our world, Hjalmar had cast Paradisiacal Rain here, too. In this world, however, the shield had prevented a small part of the continent from sinking. Based on what I learned from the chibis, the shield needed to be powered by a nightly assembly of shamans. They were given a schedule for maintaining the integrity of the ancient shield, and every ten days they had a full gathering of all Eatuhean magicians in the spiritual plane.

The next time the Eatuhean conclave met, I was there for them.

The spiritual bodies of the Eatuheans appeared as myriad points of light in the higher realm. Based on what I could perceive of their skill, there were less than a dozen shamans who could be called powerful. The rest of them were average or weak, but they made up for it by combining their powers into one mighty gestalt. I examined the composition and structure of the spell that they were pouring their anima into. Today I didn’t intend to do anything, so I just watched them go about their business. They were pretty damned good; I had to give them that.

But nowhere near as good as me.

That night after dinner, I put a hand on Sariel’s shoulder and said, “I need your help.”

“What is it?” he asked.

I looked deep into his eyes, and said in a serious, perhaps even sepulchral tone of voice, “You’re the only one who has the skills I require. The old Asteria is gone. I’m done with being low key and nice. Now is the time for me to show everyone exactly who they’re dealing with.”

Sariel sighed. “Can you stop with the overly long introduction and just tell me what you need?”

“Fine. I’ll be turning evil now. So will you guys. That means we will all need an evil costume change, as is traditional,” I said. “I’m thinking… Black and red, with touches of silver here and there.”

“What the frag are you talking about?!” Elsa rolled her eyes.

I removed my hand from Sariel’s shoulder. Uriel was shaking his head, and Seraphiel was smiling. I should’ve known that the “Tales of Vesterland’s” Last Boss would like this turn of events.

“Well, if we’re all going to be the villains of the story, we need to be properly dressed for it. I don’t want to turn up for a world-changing event in jeans and a T-shirt,” I said.

Sariel nodded. “True. And I’m the only one here who has any fashion sense.”

Elsa gave his orange and yellow velvet trousers and violet top a horrified look. “I’m not sure about this.”

“Relax, Sariel only dresses himself like that. He knows that the rest of us aren’t as avant-garde,” I said.

“You don’t have the height or the presence to pull this off,” said Sariel to Elsa.

I told them my plans, and they suggested modifications to make it better. Elsa would inform Magnus so that he would be ready when the time came.

“All right, then that’s what we’ll do,” I said.

It was going to be a busy three months for me.

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