In the Name of Throne

'Seems like it, Dominion. He doesn't really have that usual divinity vibe about him, but it most definitely looks like he's cut above the rest. Just look at his muscles; my goodness, he could flick his finger at me, and I'd probably be on the verge of death already.'

'Warlord? I mean, it sounds self-explanatory enough, but what's so special about being a warlord?'

'Looks like you made your return at the right time.'

'Why didn't you just appoint someone else to lead the kapres then?'

'Do you think they killed him?'

'Hmm... We should at least do some analysis on this guy while we're here.'

"ANALYZE," I said while pointing my palm on the giant above the ziggurat. Soon enough, a textbox appeared pointed at the kapre's warlord.

|Name: Bismarck

|Classification: (1) Neophyte God, (2) Alive [VS], (3) Meat, (4) ???, (5) Throne

|Status:

|STR: 75

|VIT: 415

|DEX: 55

|INT: 40

|WIS: 70

'Holy shit, this guy has over 400 Vitality stats!'

'He's working for Throne.'

'And it even appears like the System is unaware of that warlord's race.'

'Then why is it showing three question marks instead?'

'I think I understand? ...But damn, it's a bit complicated.'

'Anyway, let's talk about your theory first.'

'What you're saying is that someone or something, probably from Firmament, managed to become the leader of the kapres through a VERY convincing camouflage spell? What category does that even fall into? Control? Recovery? And is there really a spell powerful enough to cause an error on your System?'

'I do like your theory, though. Not to mention, this kapre has a Firmamentian-sounding name too. Or at least it's vastly different from the last name we've seen from the kapres. Do you think he's some kind of spy working for Throne?'

'All we can do is guess, really. But we have nothing concrete that could prove any of what we would say other than the warlord's affiliation with Throne.'

Silence succumbed us for a while; somehow, we would need to go head-to-head against this heretic god. I already have countless ways in my mind to defeat this guy: guerilla warfare, starvation, winning small-scale assaults, hit-and-runs, and long-range combat; that's just a few at the top of my head. These tactics work because it wouldn't need to have an army go head-to-head against the kapre's forces. As long as we keep our distance, weaken their defenses, and destroy them without getting too close, we can win. Luckily, the Vyurbornes are more than capable of doing it.

With my mind deep in thought, I decided to close the ANALYZE textbox. That was when I realized something. There, on the second ZOOM screen, I saw the warlord on the ziggurat looking up directly at me.

The warlord pointed at our balloon with an enraged expression; it looked like he's screaming something, but I couldn't hear it.

"Uhh... Sir..." I said, beckoning Times' attention while looking down below. There's definitely a lot of activity happening there now, with countless kapres around the ziggurats frantically hurrying like ants around their hill.

But Times just ignored me.

"Sir!" I said much louder this time, still looking down below. I was now shaking my head behind me, not wanting to take my eyes off what I was seeing, but I couldn't reach anything. Again, Times just ignored me.

"General Times!" I moved my head back into the Vyurbornean general. "We've been spotted!"

Times finally directed his attention at me as a booming howl resounded from below.

"BALLOON!" A silent scream echoed into the breeze.

Times lunged forward to check what's happening below, and his eyes practically popped out of his eye sockets.

"Get this thing running faster," Times ordered his soldier as he assessed the situation. But the soldier just looked at him, stunned and trembling. "NOW!" Times screamed, making the soldier jump up in a hurry.

"Is there anything I can do?" I asked as I looked at what the soldier was doing.

"Turn the knob on that metal thing below the fire. Put it on max!" The soldier said as he did something to a small compartment below the folding bed. Looks like he does know how to communicate, after all.

I did as the soldier had instructed but immediately fell when the basket suddenly shook. Something must have hit our basket hard, and it almost ravaged our aircraft. Luckily, I managed to catch the folding bed in time, preventing the still unconscious Gertrude from falling. Times moved towards me and wordlessly slapped my hands away from his daughter before placing her back to the folding bed until the tremors around our aircraft ceased.

"BALLOON!" I heard that same echoing roar once more.

But this time, countless other roars accompanied it, and boy, am I fucking panicking now.