Kordok brought Viv back to her cage, then he took her cover.

“Compliance leads to peace; resistance leads to pain. Please follow me.”

It would be more annoying to Viv if the man had any emotion in his voice. Instead, the tall asshole was sort of subdued. He proceeded to poke Viv to wake her up every two hours then limited the food and water she got. He was shily trying hard to be the world’s shittiest butler.

Although annoying, it wasn’t enough to ruin Viv’s day yet, which she made sure not to communicate. A quick session of introspection confirmed that yes, she would not break from this any time soon but no, she was not willing to poke the bear about it. It was known in the French army that torture got you very unreliable results, and that a skilled interrogator could achieve much more than a torch or a portable generator strapped to the balls. It didn’t mean that the same applied here, on Nyil. Maybe they had fucked up paths. Actually, she would be surprised if there weren’t any. Obviously she wouldn’t die to prove a point or willingly let herself be cooked over a grill just to spite Tarano. That was fine. She just had to delay and look for an opening. That wouldn’t be so hard considering how complex the healing sessions were and how she’d never had to regrow a pancreas or whatever the fuck the crown prince was missing at the moment.

Although, there would not be an opening any time soon.

The Enorian loyalists marched south from dawn to dusk, only stopping as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the forest in the distance. Her cage was surrounded by a double ring of guards at all times, outside of normal talking range, not that it would matter with how terrified they all seemed to be. No one spoke to her and she spoke to no one. For now, it was acceptable.

Viv could also tell the mood was less than ideal. The soldiers showed signs of tension despite the apparent lack of injured men, or even enemies. They kept the conversations low even at night, and most of them looked around as if they expected an assault at any moment. A strange behavior for such a numerous group. And they were numerous indeed.

Viv had caught glimpses of the whole army on the march when they crossed a particularly wide section of farmland. There were more than ten thousand soldiers for sure. They extended as far as the eye could see in dense clumps of infantrymen, archers, and mounted warriors. Most wore either the blue or a variation of the blue of Enoria, with an eagle under a crown being the most common flag. She inspected a few randomly and found a wide variety of paths with most soldiers being between the second and fourth step. Solfis had not gone into much detail but she was starting to believe that it might take some significant achievements or a measure of risk-taking to progress past the fourth, which of course the golem would fail to mention since he had no doubt Viv would achieve great things. Bless him.

There wasn’t much more she could learn at a glance from the soldiers themselves. There were, however, things she could guess from the train. It was far too large for an army that size. In fact, there was so much grain and food being carried that she suspected it would be enough for months, with some of the wagons obviously looted along the way. Some of them were even pushed by sturdy men for lack of oxen. Or cornudons, she guessed, as there was a lack of proper cows in this place. The other interesting fact was the incredible speed with which they moved. Viv was sure that some sort of army-wide skills must have been involved because even special forces troops would have collapsed long ago. Instead, they swallowed distance with such speed that it felt to Viv as if distant fighters walked on treadmills. The third and last interesting fact was the lack of camp followers. The Enorians had a clear purpose and they were going there quickly. As for what it was, she was certain she would find out soon.

Viv’s only social interaction came from the rare moments she was allowed to clean herself and walk a bit, as it was done under the surveillance of the two priestesses. The dark-skinned servant of Enttiku, Naden, respected her silence and merely gave an embarrassed grimace when their eyes met. She was clearly unhappy to be relegated to guard duties, or perhaps it was because a broken oath to the goddess of death had led Viv here. And indeed, while Ardek’s demise had been cathartic, it sure didn’t help with the silverite manacles. Lotae, on the contrary, was a bitch.

“The prisoner will get dressed promptly, unless she wishes to give women a bad name any more than she already has.”

“The prisoner would do well to remember her place.”

“The prisoner could find fulfillment in her life if only she would comply.”

Viv had met people like that before. She remembered a nun back in her private school who was keen to impose more rules on girls, happy to sit at the top of an oppressed gender. Some people lifted, others brought down. Lotae was firmly in the second category. Once again, this did not particularly annoy Viv because it was what she expected, and also because when she escaped, there was a good chance she could show the uppity cunt her own liver.

Nothing happened much for four days except Viv being more or less certain they were approaching Koltis, meaning her past weeks of travel through the boonies had been for fucking nothing. Well, not exactly, they had saved a village and she rediscovered her love for seafood, forest-sourced this time. It was still a frustrating experience. During that time, her rationing had remained low so she now had a constant headache and felt she could eat an entire roast pig from eyeballs to sphincter. She would have mumbled ‘my kingdom for a slice of bacon’ but something might have taken it as an invitation.

The same sort of something that visited her in dreams that night.

***

Viv did not wake up so much as come to. She looked down and saw her body yet knew intimately that it was an illusion, a lie. Her body was still in that cage. She was in the in between where Neriad had once pulled her to stitch her tattered soul. She was whole now, and could perceive the phantasm for what it was, a convenient way for her fragile psyche to handle the strain of premature access to the realm of souls. She stood in an empty cavernous room with a basalt ground as level and smooth as undisturbed water. The glassy surface gave back a distorted reflection of her features, against all logic. The only furniture was a titanic throne of obsidian, and on it sat a colossus. He had to be at least four meters tall. Even as Viv took in his appearance, her immediate conclusion was that this man was a massive edgelord.

Greaves with cute silvery skulls on the knees complimented a black leather and silver mail chest. Ridiculous spiky pauldrons surrounded a darkly charismatic, pale face with sharp traits and wavy black hair. If Viv was still in her groupie stage, she would have fallen hard for his good looks, but she was no longer sixteen. More worryingly, the amount of sheer pressure that came off the pretentious figure fell on her in dizzying waves, and she still felt, somehow, that he was relatively far. Her mind came to the inevitable conclusion and fear filled her. The man felt it. He smirked. His eyes were pools of abyss without a single speck of color.

“Yes, you have guessed correctly. I would be easier to recognize if my effigy were paraded in the markets like that of my comrades-in-arms, but alas, we have grown distant over the past eons.”

Efestar, God of Scorn and Vengeance, pulled a serrated dagger from the void and inspected its blade. Viv saw that it was a sharp, curved weapon, and it bled so much malice that its mere sight made her nauseous. The blade disappeared as quickly as it had come. Efestar smirked disparagingly.

Viv tried to take a deep breath but failed. She was not actually breathing here. Regardless, her effort caused her to feel more focused, more herself. It didn’t help much. The voice of Efestar wrecked her meager defenses to shake her to her core. He was not even trying to hurt her, he was just that strong. It really spoke of Neriad restraint that he conversed with her while they were so close to each other.

“No need to be alarmed, Viviane the Outlander. There is no deal I could offer that we would both agree on at the moment. I merely wished to meet you and give you a bit more context on what we could achieve together. After all, the new Pantheon can be so avaricious when it comes to information sharing, don’t you think?”

Viv did not reply immediately. In fact, she didn’t plan to reply at all. Her father had proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that a person could provide only truthful information and still deceive. One merely had to cherry pick them. Efestar was old and cunning. She was no match for him in a game of intrigue.

The dark man’s sneer only widened.

“You are wary, which I can respect, but also curious. The gods you mortals worship are not as infaillible and kind as they appear. You already know of Maranor’s penchant for tyranny, that dear old firebrand. But even your beloved Neriad has plenty of blood on his hands.”

Viv thought Efestar took her for an idiot. The god’s smile faded ever so slightly.

Of course Neriad had blood on his hand, Viv knew. Only someone who has regretted their actions would specifically give mortals a measure of leeway in the causes they chose to kill for. Only someone who had picked the wrong shade of gray one too many times would lose the belief that only they had the right of things. She didn’t see the gods as some omnipotent entities because a divine asshole had sent her to Nyil. More damning, the gods had chosen an anthropomorphic appearance and humans were, at the core, flawed. Therefore, so were the gods. It made sense to her, at least.

Efestar sensed that his amazing, thought-provoking truth had left her unimpressed. He next spoke to her like she was a child.

“Some advice. A mere suggestion, if you will. Consider that the gods are hiding much from you including how they got their powers, then perhaps you will come to the conclusion that they do not deserve your support and that you may want to explore other avenues of worship.”

“You know,” Viv said before she could hold herself back, “my mommy told me about strange men with intriguing proposals. She said everyone in life would try to spoon-feed me their own patented brand of bullshit. She said I should look at how they act instead, what they do, how, and what sort of world they’re trying to build. It doesn’t take a fucking genius to realize that out of all the assholes of that forsaken, heartless jungle of the planet, you are the top cunt. Am I clear enough?”

Ah.

That… might have been a little vocal.

Efestar sat forward on his throne with the same smile as before, and that somehow chilled her more than the blade had.

“I see why the Traveler God likes you, darling. He always had a thing for hellions. We may meet again, or not. There is still much height for you to fall from. Bye now.”

Something flicked Viv on the forehead. She was hurled back into her body and smashed into the back of her cage.

“Oh shit.”

She lurched forward and retched.

Due to repeated, unexpected travels to the beyond and your meditation efforts, you have acquired the clergy path exclusive skill soul mastery at novice 3.