The Greatest Sin [Progression Fantasy][Kingdom Building]

Firstly, I agree with Prince Atan on the matter of Ringbreaking. It is not just a matter of power and maintain logistics lines if we try to battle Arda’s plaguewood. Any single slip up during retaking would equate be quickly exploited, a mistake could set us back months. The arduous task would take a century in the first place, if not more. The forest at its longest extent measures fifteen thousand miles. In square miles, we are talking in the millions, in the cubic miles, we may even have to consider more than a billion.

We have long since crossed the point of making this a containable issue. Frankly, I doubt that even if we reacted at the very beginning, we would have been able to avert this disaster that is currently infesting our world. The fact we are debating on whether Ringbreaking will work in the first place shows the scale of the issue. If we do not break the ring, then what else exactly is there to do?

It is Ringbreaking, or it is extermination through root and disease, our corpses will wait for Arda to reach this world and scour the disease from distance, or maybe this madness is just a product of their cursed souls and they will live in harmony with the all-devouring plaguewood. They shall descend to see a mirror of themselves, and they will grow infatuated by it, and then they shall spread to Paradeisius no doubt. Ringbreaking is the only solution.

Nevertheless, solving this issue of the forest-plague does not actually solve the original problem in our universe: Arda.

Please review the attached documents.

- Letter signed by Prince Olikom, of Tartarus, to Emperor Leonifer, of Tartarus.

Agrita stared up at the Cloudbreaking monument in Esberia. The five towers that had landed and marked the turning point of the war, right at the south of the country. It was a pilgrimage site of sorts, a tourist destination too, an Imperial monument and one of the foundational points of the myths she had been part of. The five ICDT towers that had landed here were not torn down but celebrated instead. They were coated with fresh paint, cleaned of Ash and had monuments that would be huge in a city, although were relatively tiny in comparison, around them.

Of course, the three largest were those of Fortia, Fer and Maisara. Of Beasthood standing tall, one arm reaching up to the sky, claws already extended as if white stone was attempting to grab the sky. Agrita had no clue who the artists were, although now that she was here, she would have to ask about. The detail on the hair and the detail was incredible. Fortia was just as heroic, her marble statue displayed her with a spear pointed up forwards. Maisara’s was close by. The stone had managed to capture the motion of the Goddess of Order mid-swing, somehow. Those three were just the largest, every Imperial knight that had landed here, all five hundred of them, had been made into a hero for eternity in stone. Agrita wasn’t exactly sure how but this craftsmanship was far too precious for her to pass up on it not being in Rilia.

Whereas Arika and Esberia were both being rebuilt, and the seeding campaign was still ongoing in the Ashlands, one of the nations was close to Epa. The other had an ocean between them that had become the busiest set of sea in the world. It was only natural that this country be faster in its clean-up.

Diamonds no longer draped over these lands as they did the Sassara, although they still littered the hills. Apparently, massive mountains were being constructed out of the material, where anyone who wanted to could come and retrieve a handful. That had been a bit of trouble for Agrita, where suddenly the fine artisans of Rilia that made luxury jewellery and watches suddenly found themselves being priced out of the market by the surge of independent manufacturers. It had been enough of a worry that Agrita had asked Arascus for help.

The God’s own dismissiveness had been permission for herself to be equally as dismissive, although she did try to maintain more tact than how Arascus put it: When people say that you need to smash a few eggs to break an omelette, they’re usually talking about mass casualties. Agrita, what am I supposed to do with your jewellers exactly?

And besides, Agrita had more important problems to focus on now rather than the fact some artisans were going to need to adapt to the new world. Her eyes shifted to the top of the ICDT towers, their crystals still emitted pulses of the transmutation magic, Elassa had not been wrong that the spell was relatively simple and they would stay on powered for years. It was better to keep them on though, it was considered good luck for a diamond to drop on one’s head. Above them, the sun shown brightly over a cloudless blue sky.

Agrita pulled her eyes away from the mocking light blue ocean above and looked down at the people who were swarming around the towers. Tourists from the Empire and the world at large, looking up and taking pictures of the site where the counter-attack had started. They all spoke in hushed voices as if afraid of invoking some dark energies from this place. The cool breeze coming from the Alanktyda, smelling of sea and salt, had wafted in from the west and swayed her red-gold hair. She blew it away and turned around.

Her eyes passed over the highway that was being constructed here and the pair of massive structs that would serve as the base for the Eparika bridge. Although that was long in the future. That highway led to the current temporary wall.

A massive structure of ground which had been pulled out of the ground by Arcadian mages. Another landbridge, although it wasn’t there to serve as a link between the continents. It had been another tourist hotspot, since everyone knew it was a temporary structure and the upper echelons of Imperial Divinity that anything could be made into some sort of pilgrimage site.

Now, the site sat empty. Past it was another set of bridge foundations that were as large as fortresses. Two mountains fashioned out of concrete and steel. To the right, the Alanktyda, a deep cold blue. Tankers circumnavigating all Arika were in the distance, one after the other. With white clouds in the distance, for a moment, Agrita wondered if the sailors would be taking pictures of what was happening today too. The coast had been cordoned off entirely by a small Imperial fleet. The INS Aris sat anchored closer to Epa, the INS Hallin closer to Arika. The pair of battleships proudly waved the Imperial red-white-black, and then the flags of their own nations underneath them.

And then Agrita turned left and let out a sigh. Where one ocean was a pristine deep blue, and where once the other sea had been an even more pristine turquoise, now they were separated by that huge landbridge. For the Eparika was no longer turquoise, not even blue, and pristine was precisely the last thing anyone could use to describe it.

The sea sat a murky black. The Office of Eparika had been created for the immediate while, General Menith officially headed it although he practically lived with Agrita for the moment. When Agrita was younger, she always imagined what the Reconstruction Authority looked like. That ancient faux-Pantheon that rebuilt the world after the Age of Worldbreaking almost destroyed it. Now, she imagined it looked somewhat like this.

The Empire had descended upon the Eparika with even more fury and manpower than it had thrown at Tartarus. Arascus had declared that cleanliness was a certainty, but that a decade was a failure. The Eparika would be cleaned. And for another time in her life, Agrita swore to the Empire. This effort was something that the Pantheon would not have the will to do, and the Epan Community would not have the power to.

Every day, from every port in Rilia, from southern Rancais, from Esberia, from Arika and Khmet and Kandai, from Atny, dredgers would set sail as the dawn came in. The pay financially was dismal but the payoff would be essential. Even small boats and civilians were setting off to come back with their own loads of the sludge that had drowned the sea. A layer of ash that settled into a sludge that was not quite water, but close enough to it that the mages of Arcadia were not going to risk transmuting and drying out the sea.

It had to be cleaned. Load by load, bucket by bucket, handful by handful, it would have to be cleaned. There was not even a tonnage estimate, each nation had simply decided to go along with the Grey-Mountain project, where the ash would be dumped. Rilia already had a dozen of them, massive grey pyramids on the countryside. The one benefit of them would be that they would serve as this year’s fertilizer, and the next’s, and after that. Currently, they more than a decade’s worth of the stuff. Theoretically, they would have a centuries worth of the rich silt.

It was a bad deal though.

The first structures to rise in Rilia, even as the reconstruction efforts of the nation’s south were still being planned, were the coast-cleaner facilities. They were barracks effectively, small complexes spread across massive grey beaches which were filled with soldiers and men that had nothing to do. Housing was free, food as well, clothing was provided, the pay was meagre but without any costs, it could be saved up. Anything scavenged was their own to keep. Each coast-cleaner was the deployment of an army of buckets and shovels that would work tirelessly throughout the day to clean the beaches, drag as much as of the ash away as possible, wait for the tide to bring in more and then recede so that they could get to work again.

Agrita watched the ships in the distance. Even here, close to the edge, there were half a dozen of them working. Huge tankers, the ones that she had seen carry cargo, redesigned with scoops and arms that reached into the water and stabbed at the water. They dragged out another massive load, another ton or two or three of silt, dirty water rushed out from their scoops. They weren’t perfect, but only nature herself could make the ocean return back to its perfect cleanliness. They just had to give nature enough help that she could start working on her own.

Of Rilia stared as the scoop ascended up the side of the red ship, water running through the gaps in its teeth. It held it there for a moment, to let most of the liquid contents spill out. And then the massive arm moved over to the centre of the ship, and dropped another bucketload of wet ash that disappeared into the bowel of the ship. Scoop-by-scoop, there was no other method to it. It was an impossible task, the sheer scale of it made it the largest mountain that Agrita had ever attempted to climb. But her eyes wandered to the crowd that was watching snapping photos, and then to the ICDT towers. But they had already stopped the apocalypse, that was an impossible peak that had been ascended.

Other the horizon came Arcadia’s contribution too, the first of Elassa’s floating fortresses. Powered by massive arrays of magical gemstones. An island that had been ripped out of Arda’s crust and sent into the clouds. From its underside, Agrita could see the bright white gemstones glowing. The tourists took pictures as it dragged a massive white-silver net across the filthy surface of the Eparika. A castle that was more akin to one of Rancais’ fine palaces nested upon it. With grand windows and small walls, although with battlements on its peak. The whole structure was a light show, each activation of magic by a mage was another flicker of coloured light.

The crowd all made their wordless noises of approval, countless oohs and aahs. Agrita smiled to herself as she watched it. This was easily her favourite part of the entire operation. It was… Well, it was magical. It was the sort of things that would be written about in the history books, and she was watching it happening. The net ascended, dragged up on massive arms of a hardy, shining metal as the mages from the castle descended like a swarm of flies upon it.

The net was not high, just enough to be out of the water entirely as the mages formed their own circle in the air about it. Robes fluttered in the harsh winds, spells were chanted, a communion was called, catalysts lit up. So many of them that they almost formed a circle of glowing red rubies.

The ash set ablaze and for a few moments, Agrita could see her pristine waters sparkling through the air. As it burned, Agrita could see the air shimmer from the heat of the flames. But her eyes went to that precious rain of clear water. Every time she saw it, it killed whatever doubt she had that the Empire would fail. The process would be slow, the journey would be long but her precious turquoise Eparika was hidden somewhere in those waters and speck-by-speck, they were dragging it out.

In the past, they had been mythologized and reserved only for the Magekings that ruled over Empires. Now, Arcadia was apparently planning to field ten within the month. Saksma and Paida had started the joint Rancais-Doschian floating fortress project, intent on using their own mages to discover what secret magics Elassa’s own were using. Agrita had heard a rumour that she was to receive her own, as a gift from Arascus.

Today though, they would be unleashing the ultimate weapon in the clean-up procedure. The Eparika was a massive sea, but it was not even a tenth of a large ocean. That was pure surface area, once depth was factored in? How many times could the Eparika be poured into the Alanktyda? A hundred maybe? They were working on devouring the thick silt that sat on the surface but underwater? No one but nature would be able to move that.

And Agrita saw the man she had come here to inspect finally reveal himself. The God of Alanktyda arrived just as she always remembered him. The crowd made set of oohs and aahs, the bureaucrats and Imperial administrators that had come finally realised Agrita was here and decided not to step towards the section of beach with the retreating tide when she made a quick march straight towards it.

He appeared around a court of mermen, all nude from the chest up. The women and the men, all looking like the beautiful, finely carved statues that always portrayed the half-fish.

And all of them with scales of different colours, some bright green, some red, some orange, some yellow. As bright as a forest meadow, with not a single grey or dark shade amongst them. Tasaidien himself was a rainbow of different, shifting scales that changed colour depending on how the light hit them. The sea parted further and his tail shifted, the scales retreated, split in two. Fins became feet. And where the God had been swimming, he was suddenly standing on dry land, wrapping a shawl of silk around his waist. He readjusted the coral crown on the top of his head, saw Agrita and started his approach.

Agrita let him walk the entire way. How old was he? Pre-Great War. Definitely. But what did that even matter? The man had been no better than the fools who had hidden await on the Divine mountain. He stopped before Agrita and spoke in a low rumble of a voice. The sort of sound that perfectly fit a calm ocean.

“Goddess Agrita.” He bowed his head. Agrita had precisely no frame of reference to work with. She had seen the God-King of Alanktyda in the past, but only seen him. Every few decades, he would travel to Olympiada to discuss with Divines that were far more important than her. But that had been in the past, and now, she had only here as a formality. Officially, it was only Tasaidien who was to supervise the first release. Officially, he was an Emperor. Agrita did not see the title though, Arascus was an Emperor. If the world was burning, then the Empire would come to assist because the Empire was of Arda too. What had Tasaidien done with his great realm under the waves?

“God Tasaidien.” Agrita bowed hers slightly less than his. It wasn’t right that he was taller than her. It simply was not right. The universe had at least been smart enough to curse Ciria with her small stature when it had cursed her with her moralistic melodrama. Why was he so huge if all he did was sit under the waves? He turned to look at her, then at the wall separating the Eparika and the Alanktyda. Mages were arranging themselves into circular formations on that massive structure.

“I am here to supervise the first release.” Tasaidien said, staring down at her. For a moment, his eyes narrowed, then he sighed. “Do not worry Agrita, the deal is sorted, I am not bitter for you.”

“Why would you be bitter for me?” Agrita replied back, she looked to the landbridge. It simply did not sit right with her though. Divinity was helpful and grandiose true, and there even was a grandiosity in charity that the Divine did savour, but this was the charity of rulers. And rulers were charitable to their own. Bitter for her? Should she not be bitter to him?

“Well then why did you come here?”

“Because my nation is practically enclosed by this black sea and I want to see it be washed away by your unending waters.” Agrita said. “Why have you?”

“As I said, to supervise the first release of your waters into mine.” Tasaidien said.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Tasaidien asked.

“Why did you agree?” Agrita asked and Tasaidien swept that dark hair back which almost had enough colour to leave the realm of black and become green-blue.

“Because it is an ocean, and because I may only be of Alanktyda, but I am still a creature of the seas and think all seas are precious?” Tasaidien said lightly. “The ash is rich, it drowns in these quantities, but it is not deadly in itself.” He extended an arm out to the Eparika. Then his arm dropped and he stood there as the first release began. Agrita had expected them to sink the entire structure, or… Well, she didn’t know really.

“Just so you know, it wasn’t my idea.” Agrita said. “You don’t have to pretend to forgive me for it.” Two massive entrances were made in the wall, leaving a single pillar in the middle which cut off maybe two hundred of the magicians. They’re glowing gemstones changed colour, from brown to blue.

“It’s Arascus’ conception.” Tasaidien said. “He would think of a problem like this, Elassa would too, but she would not bother asking in the first place.” Agrita had no clue whose idea it was.

“They are only going to sink it a little so that it spills over the top.” Agrita said. “Not the whole wall. So that we can track how much is actually circulating into the Alanktyda.” The waters began to move, slowly at first, but very obviously there. The edge closer to Epa was the intake, the edge closer to Arika the outflow.

“I know.” Tasaidien said. “That’s not the reason though, I’m not here to profit off your war.”

“I don’t think anyone has profited off it.”

“Would you fight it again?”

“I would fight it a million times over and I would not regret a single step.” Agrita said, she saw Tasaidien smiling down at her.

“Then if you would a fight it again, and if no one profited off it, then it was a good war. And you should be proud of yourself for fighting it.”

“I am.” Agrita said. She met his gaze and turned towards the God of Alanktyda. Was it the fact he came here like royalty? Was it the fact he was taller and older than her? Where had he been though? It was not like Arascus, Arascus had gone himself to bring Olonia back. Arascus would go for her too, he would for anyone under the Imperial flag. And what? Tasaidien had been content to sit out the entire conflict? “Don’t talk down to me.”

“I wasn’t talking down to you.”

“Then if I am to be so proud, where were you?” Agrita said, she hardened her gaze and stared up at the God of the Alanktyda. And he stared down at her.

“This is why you have come?”

“It is why I have come.” Agrita said. “Because when the Alanktyda was being swallowed, what did your people do? When Imperial convoys were setting sail to evacuate Arika, where were you? When we won the war and saved this world, where were you?”

Tasaidien sighed and shook his head. “We both know I cannot answer that.”

“Cannot or will not?”

“So all you want is a proclamation of cowardice then?” Tasaidien said. “Surfaces are not mine, by the time we realised what Tartarus was wielding, the ashfront had already reached the Eparika. What was I supposed to do by then?”

“So you did nothing.” Agrita said. “As you sat and watched as it was the blood my kin, both Rilian and Imperial, that was being spilled. And now, what? You tell me you don’t have bitterness. Well I am bitter! And I deserve to be because you stand here and what? Am I supposed to thank you! What about Tanit? Have you even met her? How many of hers could you have saved? When the navies were engaging, where were you? What about in the Central Arika Sea then if you were so scared of the ash? Why did you not go to assist Zalewski with the evacuations? What then!?” She took a deep breath, her hands dropping by her sides, her head falling.

“Are you finished?” Agrita nodded, then turned to look at the pair of streams. The method was working, they would not be shifting the Eparika all at once but in bursts so that this local environment wasn’t destroyed. But already, darkness was spilling into one sea as clear water was spilling into another. “I cannot answer why I did not fight.” Tasaidien said. “And whatever reasoning I can use, there is none that will suffice. Yes, half of your country was swallowed, yes, mine was barely touched even as Ibya was lost for a year. To call it cowardice would be an insult to cowardice.”

Agrita shook her head. “Do not bother.” She said. “The problem isn’t even you. You didn’t help, plenty of others did not.”

“I know.” Tasaidien said. “The Empire stood for Arda and the Empire stood alone.” He watched the oceans mix and flow. The cloud of darkness was spreading deeper into the Alanktyda than its cleanliness was re-entering the Eparika. “That is why we’re watching this right now, because the Empire could clean the Eparika alone and you would succeed eventually, and then where would Alanktyda be?”

“I don’t know.”

“But I do.” Tasaidien said. “We would still be under the waves, that is if we were allowed to even reside under them as you and your people climb to the stars. And what sort of existence would that be?” Tasaidien said. “Alanktyda will announce joining the Empire officially soon.”

Agrita’s lips curled into a smile. “Bit late.”

“What entry price did you pay?”

“None.” Agrita said. Nothing that could be considered a price, Aimone had been allowed to even keep his position. Kings served under Emperors after all, the rest of it: the military integration and so on were not a price, they were the Empire’s offering.

Tasaidien spread his arm out towards the two oceans being mixed. “Then feel better knowing this is my price.” He said. “Because I was not there for your foundational conflict. You stood for Arda, you stood for it alone, and now you will have to deal with me, because I also inhabit this planet.” He sighed and shook his head. “But no, I will no pretend to take your position Agrita, and Arascus certainly will not. We are all Divines, but we are not equal. His daughters are closest to him, then it is the likes of Fortia and so. Where does the inner circle end at?”

“The inner circle includes his daughters and Helenna.” Agrita said.

“That is how you see it.”

“That is how it is.”

“And from where I stand, that inner circle has you and all the Epan Nationals that led Epan Separation. Once you leave the family circle, what group of Divines has been by side for longer than any?” Agrita opened her mouth, then closed it. Then turned red when she realised the answer.

“Oh.”

Tasaidien released his own deep rumbling sigh. “I expected this conversation Agrita. Call it age, but don’t think it is pleasant for me to stand in this position and lower my head to a junior.” He turned to Agrita. Of Rilia averted her eyes for a moment, then turned to him. “So let us start over.” He held out his hand. “I am Tasaidien.”

Agrita stared at the hand. It was infuriating, it was grandiose, it was a level of patronization that she would take from Arascus’ family. And it was right. The Empire stood for Arda, the Empire stood alone, and now she would probably have to repeat this moment with a dozen other rulers. Infuriating it was, but from Arascus, she would have never learned the lesson. It had to come from an outsider. She had not realised the scale of the mountain. Nor had she realised how far she had climbed. Of Rilia took Of Alanktyda’s hand. “I am Agrita.”