Chapter 47
Chapter 47
Cold wind whipped against Max’s face, and yet he didn’t even feel it. Beneath him was a world that he had only visited briefly years ago to see what it contained.
Large reefs absorbed giant waves that crashed into them before rushing against the stone cliffs that rose a mile into the sky. He could smell the salt, and a hint of something else he hadn’t yet figured out. Birds were everywhere.
There was a city carved into the stone mountain, and along it were corpses, thousands of them lying inside the area that had served as the capital for the creatures he called his own. They were humanoid-shaped beings that resembled hawks. Their curved talons, sharp beaks, and dark feathers were scattered around the city as they fought against an overwhelming number of opponents.
The sky was filled with falcons, albatross, owls, and kite raptor beings. They too shared the same humanoid shape but had different feathers and sizes. Each carried weapons and wore armor. Clashes between the ones that had given him DP for these last few years were over quickly, as they were surrounded and killed, often sent tumbling into the sea below.
It’s a massacre.
Like what would have happened to Peltagow if you and your allies hadn’t stopped the elven army? Perhaps I was wrong. We should depart. I can see and sense one of the gods of this kind, and they do not feel weak at all.
Max nodded internally, his eyes studying the god that resembled a falcon. The god was almost three times the size of the other birds, with large muscles rippling under wings that didn’t beat to hold it airborne. Some kind of metal armor coated each feather, making them look similar to Rakonath’s scales when he wore armor in dragon form. A pair of swords was stored on its back.
It hasn’t seen through our stealth. I need to try. You’re certain it isn’t a tier 5 god?
I cannot be certain as my time around any gods of that level has been none. There appears to be no other gods nearby, and if you are planning on talking or fighting, now is the only chance you will get. Otherwise we should go. You cannot stop this slaughter. Part of him wanted to attack, the part that had become thirsty again after killing Kherbann. Max felt that itch, the desire to scratch it, and knew it would only grow as he killed more like him.
Let’s try. If we need to we can run. I will not think twice, nor do I wish to risk myself and you.
A hint of agreement came as Max flew through the air, still stealthed, and stopped about twenty yards from the god before him. Up close, the amount of power he sensed coming from the bird was difficult to measure. Had his attempt to end Eyorakoa’s life and steal the death from Yukoreek been successful, he might have attempted a sneak attack here.
Kherbann had fallen so easily, and yet he didn’t feel this would be the same.
A pair of yellow eyes glowed and widened, and talon hands grasped two swords as Max appeared midair between the god and the battle below.
“You!” the hawk cried out.
“Don’t!” Max shouted, his two weapons appearing in his hands. “I could have attacked you from behind! I came to talk!”
“Bah, only weak ones talk! I will not—”
“Sirocco, stop!”
Max shifted his position, sensing an incoming shape, and flew so that he wasn’t pinched between the arrival. An owl-shaped god sped toward them, wings tucked, red eyes burning like lava.
“We should—”
“Listen!” the god screeched as it came to a stop next to the other god. Its red eyes were locked upon Max, a single clawed hand held out before the falcon that looked ready to strike at any moment. “He spoke the truth. He could have wounded you… Yet he didn’t.”
“You let him get near me?!”
He saw us? Where was he?
Before Bob could respond, Max felt something through the gaze of the owl god. It was almost as if the bird had tied something to him.
“I will not fight you unless you attack,” it said slowly, still holding up its talon hand. “I am Gyr Quill. This one is Sirocco. Why have you come?”
“It’s obvious!” Sirocco shouted. “He has—”
Whatever power Gyr Quill had, when the god’s head turned 180 degrees and looked back at the falcon, it silenced Sirocco in a heartbeat.
That is interesting. The owl is smaller by a good three feet and yet commands with such power that the other god submits. You can feel it, coming off the bird. I don’t know what this thread is, but I’m trying to disconnect it.
Is it harming us?
No… It’s more of a… way to track and sense us.
As Max and Bob spoke, the owl’s head slowly returned to face forward, red eyes now locked on him.
“You came. Why?”
“Because I abhor the slaughter of innocents,” Max replied, frowning. “Why didn’t you just summon me? Why not ask me to give over my control before killing so many?”
Sirocco scoffed, still staying behind the owl god whose feathers seemed to bristle at that sound.
“Why would we think you would come if we summoned you? And why would we think you would come now? Surely you realize you are outnumbered. We know your strength, yet you do not know ours. To come here is… foolish or… admirable.”
“Admirable?! Gyr, we have given up so much for so—”
Max almost flinched as the owl’s wing flew backward so fast he couldn’t track it. The falcon god was sent tumbling through the air for a hundred yards before it stopped, wings flared out.
The one called Sirocco flew toward the owl and then froze ten yards from the bird, who simply held an open hand toward it. The yellow eyes of the falcon glowed as it screeched.
“Let me go! Who do you—”
“I AM THE ONE!” Gyr Quill screeched, and the sound it made felt like it had pierced Max’s ears with knives.
That one is the alpha.
Max watched as Sirocco shuddered, its two ready-to-strike weapons vanishing as the bird lowered its beak.
“Forgive me… I misspoke,” the falcon almost whispered.
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“Do not do it again,” Gyr Quill said.
The owl lowered his hand, and the falcon moved back about a hundred yards, still hovering in the air, eyes locked upon them.
“You show honor,” Gyr Quill said, his red eyes dimming some as he spoke. “You could have attacked while I was focused on the other, and yet you did not.”
“I don’t need more blood on my hands,” Max replied, pointing a finger at the battle beneath them. “Those who are technically mine below are still dying.”
A few seconds passed, and then the owl let out a cry. It radiated with power, and Max glanced at the scene below. The four kinds of birds that had been killing the hawk ones broke off, climbing higher into the sky and then moving to the edge of the stone cliff as if waiting for orders.
“For now, I have called off the slaughter,” Gyr Quill said. “In the arena, you showed yourself to possess some honor. You show bravery now. Perhaps some foolishness as well, but since you are a newer god, I would expect nothing less.”
“How do you know how old I am?” Max asked.
A weird chuckle that was high-pitched and sharp came from the owl’s chest. “I have been around for over ten thousand years, and you act as a fool. Those with the kind of time I have do not act this way. Surely you still have your helper?”
“I do… are you saying I was a fool for coming here to defend those whom I am responsible for?”
The owl’s eyelids blinked a few times and it shook its head. “Yes. You came to a world with four gods, hoping to talk to us and convince us to stop. Had you come seeking to kill us, you wouldn’t have revealed yourself to Sirocco. You would have attacked him from behind. I wasn’t certain what you would do at first.”
“You would have let me do this?” Max asked. “Attack a friend?”
“Friend? Sirocco is not my friend, and if it was not for…” Gyr Quill stopped for a second and his head rotated side to side a few times. “Our business is not yours. So we return to the business of you, Max Hoste. You have come to give up your claim on this world?”
Max had a hundred other questions and could feel Bob wanting to ask a few as well, but could sense the difference between him and this god.
It would be a fight worth attempting if it were just the two of us and the falcon wasn’t present.
I’m not sure we’d even win. You saw his speed.
“An answer, now please or I shall reconsider my choices,” the owl screeched. “Why are you waiting to answer?”
“Sorry, I was just thinking about questions I had,” Max replied. “Yes, I’m new at this, and I realize my mistake now in coming here as I did. I am willing to give up my claim on this world. Can I ask a few questions in return before I do so?”
The owl’s beak started to open, and then it stopped, his head turning to the left.
Max saw the shapes approaching and felt Bob holding back at the edges of their Planetary travel ability.
A large albatross, four times his size, drifted toward them, white feathers lined with purple edges. Behind it came a kite raptor, smaller than all the others, but its gold feathers made it shine like a second sun in the light.
“It appears the others have finally come,” Gyr Quill said. “They will not attack. I am honor-bound to keep my intent, and they will not break it.”
If things change, I will not hesitate to get us out of here.
Understood.
The other two bird gods descended, almost comically slow until they hovered in the air a few yards behind the owl god.
“The white one is Zephyrine, and Kite-Edge is our smallest friend,” Gyr Quill said.
“Smallest friend?” Kite-Edge asked, his deep voice sounding like a creature three times his size. “I’m easily the same size as this featherless beast!”
“Silence,” the owl said. “He is relinquishing his claim on this world and came to stop the slaughter of our friends’ children. I have accepted and will enforce this agreement as you both know what our friend meant to us.”
Max watched the pair’s eyes darken, gazes turned to the scene beneath them.
“Honor is earned through actions,” Zephyrine said quietly, the god’s voice soft and gentle like the wind. “We are grateful for being able to keep a memory of our friend.”
Max bowed slightly at what he thought was one from the albatross.
“Two questions, no more, no less,” Gyr Quill snapped. “Ask them quickly, though. I must deal with the one behind me who pouts like an eggling and forgets he is old enough to not let rage make him do stupid things.”
“That will never change,” Kite-Edge muttered.
Two questions… which two…
Max felt that the two Bob believed were best to ask when pressured for time. “What tier are you?”
A huff came from the three gods at the same time.
“One does not ask that question unless they are a fool or young,” Gyr Quill replied. “I said I would answer two, and so I shall honor this one. Do not ask another foolish one, or I shall consider this question worth both. I am tier four.”
Max nodded, filing away what he could, sensing the power he felt from this god compared to the others he had encountered so far.
“Forgive me for my foolish question,” Max said. “Last question, if you had it all to do over again and had to focus on one thing with your DP above all else, what would it be?”
The owl’s beak curved into what Max believed must be a smile.
“Well done, young one. A question worthy of an answer, though the answer is not as simple as it sounds. We have been discussing this topic for some time. Fools initially focus on skills and stats, unless they choose the path of hiding. Some can swim in the shallow pools, devouring others like themselves, emerging in hundreds of thousands of years, strong and dangerous. Most do not, as they tire of the wait.
“Others focus on racing to the highest tier possible, forsaking all else, trying to escape the shallow pools and not be noticed by those in deeper water. For a few, they succeed; many others eventually fall. DP does not come easily, and a god who stands alone will find this next section a dangerous place for them. Even though we don’t always see eye to eye, the four of us work as a cohesive murmuration. We help distribute the burden and the weight.”
“You’re rambling,” Kite-Edge interjected.
“Bah, forgive me,” Gyr Quill said, waving a hand at the gold-feathered god. “He is right. I do love a good discussion. My answer to your question is this. You have made claims in the arena; you do not fly alone. As a flock, you must focus on your world first. Grow stronger, and then push for the tiers. Some will fall from the sky in time. It always happens. Their gift to the world will continue on, helping to rise above the currents. Even now…” The owl gestured to the scene beneath them. “This is not the first time we have had to do this. I am glad that we waited, though.”
“Why did you wait?” Max asked.
Gyr Quill shook his head. “Two questions. No more. Where did you put the crystal?”
Max chuckled and couldn’t help but smile. “You saw that… you saw me even when I was hidden.”
“Perhaps I did,” Gyr Quill replied. “Now then, give it here, please.”
Max summoned the crystal he had retrieved upon coming to the world earlier. It had been hidden deep in the mountain, and only his connection to it had told him where to go. The fist-sized gem seemed dull, its yellow glow not as bright as the one back on his world.
“As promised,” Max said, tossing it to the owl, who snatched it easily in his talons.
“Then we are done here. Go, Max Hoste. Perhaps one day we shall meet again and not above a battlefield.”
Max sensed Bob activating his travel ability and gave a nod, feeling the purple portal pull him back to his world.