I found myself relieved when everything worked out well in the end for the three elves. While they will never see each other again, they will share all their memories going forward, so they better learn to like each other. They all experience reality, but the rest of us only experience them in smaller doses, so they may discover some level of disconnect between their own flow of reality and that observed by everyone else. Nabonidus can help them adjust, for he has a great deal of experience with managing "temporal causality dysphoria", as some call it.

One crisis has been averted, so now for the next one on the stack. Skull turned things up to eleven with this use of herself as her god's Avatar, and the divinity poisoning is doing a number on her. While she could recover, each use of Avatar seems to be worse than the last, and given the nature of world events, she will probably have need of it again. As such, current circumstances are untenable. The real problem is that I know fuck all of how to fix it, for while [Enchanting] is powerful, it cannot solve every problem.

I approach her battered body. Her armor is in tatters, far beyond any simple means of repair; it would need to be completely reforged to be serviceable again. Her trusty zweihänder is held in her right hand by its hilt, and parts of its blade are on the ground while more bits of it are scattered over yonder. A shattered blade is less than serviceable unless she can pull some Ability out of her ass to reform it.

Foolish, perhaps, but I kneel down and pull her into my arms, letting the divinity poisoning find purchase in my own form. It won't be enough to truly harm me, but it certainly feels unpleasant. My blood feels aflame, not like a raging inferno consuming a forest whole, but more like carrying a hot plate that really hurts the fingers to another room, and I am too close to my destination to just set it down somewhere and take another approach at carrying it safely. My mind feels muddled and overstimulated, not like being forced into a cage match after consuming vast quantities of psychedelics, but more like trying to read words in a dream while also managing a rabid badger ferociously gnawing on my foot. Again, it isn't unmanageable, but the sensation is far from pleasant.

And in those moments as I held her in my arms, I felt that familiar shift, the one that sneaks up on you while also occurring suddenly. Gradually, and somehow in an instant, I found myself back in the realm of Gulthar. If I passed through The Void on the way there, I had no awareness of it. This time, instead of a long hallway, I found myself in the center of an operating theater, the old-timey kind with the raised stands around it for spectators to sit in and observe. Said stands were not empty, and indeed, they were packed with grim figures clad in armor liken to Skull's erstwhile getup. These must be past [Divine Champions] of Gulthar and the peers of Skull.

Before I can properly assess the situation, the doors to the theater burst open. Gulthar, dressed in the clothing of a doctor, complete with a bloody apron and a mask on his skeletal self, rushes over to the table with his comically large doctor's bag.

"We must make haste, for every second here costs me divinity!" he exclaims as he plops his bag down on the table next to the prone Skull. He opens it and starts pulling out all manner of tools, only some of which looked useful for surgery. "Humans are somewhat weak individually, but they are remarkably adaptive. Being the base template of humanoid life, they can be modified in all kinds of ways if one has the knowhow. We can rebuild her, make her stronger than before," he continues as he pulls out a mechanical chainsaw, which he examines for a moment before tossing it behind him.

"And what part will I have in this process?" I ask with sincerity. This is certainly outside my wheelhouse in so many ways; I wouldn't even know where to begin.

"Glad you asked," he replied as he slapped me on the back with a gloved and bloody hand. "You are a dragon, and an Emperor at that. While you are a little young to start making…" he paused for a moment as he angled his head upwards as if searching for the right words. "Dragonborn, dragonforged, dragonkin, dragon-something at least. Damn linguistic drift!" he cursed as he shook a fist at the ceiling. "Anyway, we are to make her a half-dragon of sorts, and you are going to supply the base schematics while I do all the heavy lifting. Horns, wings, fancy eyes, a tail, the ability to turn her hands and feet into claws; basically the exact same thing that you dragons look like in your mortal forms when you get to be rather old. You dragons are rather close to being divine beings yourself, so it will be an apt form to handle the stress of my Divine Self."

I took all this in stride as he continued to lay out tools upon the table, some of which were of questionable usefulness. I had no idea how a trowel would be useful, but I am no medical doctor, and while I doubt Gulthar's credentials in the medical field, I am not so brazen as to call out a god in his own domain concerning such facts. Also, considering the divine make their own rules for how things work within their own realms, this very well may just be the right way to go about whatever is to happen.

The grisly work of Dr. Gulthar, Medical Divinity, is not for the faint of heart. It involved a lot of tickling, frequent consultations to the book "Medicine for Knuckledraggers", and slathering her body with various ointments and topical creams. I think Gulthar was really hamming it up in regards to the "theater" aspect of the room, but also, I think he was trying to obfuscate what was strictly necessary to remake Skull.

In the end, Skull's body had changed much in the way Gulthar described. Her wings, horns, and tail were all black. If you look closely at her scales, you can see a slightly different shade of black that marks each one with a silhouette of a skull. Her eyes are golden with the vertical slits typical of dragons (and not "cat eyes", unless you want to be mauled). Additionally, she has this commanding presence about her, the kind that impresses upon an observer that she is not to be trifled with, and that one should listen when she speaks. Even unconscious, her form is both alluring and intimidating to mortals, and that is before aspects of her Blessings come into play.

"Whew!" Gulthar exclaimed as he wiped the non-existent sweat from his brow, or at least where it would be if he had actual flesh on his bones. "That was quite the effort. And don't worry, you aren't in trouble for messing her up this time; that one is on me. Oh, and since you are here, I think we should talk about that favor you owe me."

His jolly demeanor evaporated as he turned entirely serious, which would normally be outside the means of a skeleton to pull off, but somehow, he emotes far better than any skeleton I have ever seen.

"So, about that tower that will be coming 'round soon. I want you to do a few things for me while you are there."

While he was evasive as to how I would do what needed done, he gave me enough information that I would be able to uphold my end of the bargain when the time came. This favor was made, rather forcibly, in penance for getting Skull injured in the past, and Gulthar made it abundantly clear that he still intends to collect.

"One final thing," he continued with his mood brightening significantly. "I have been working on the paperwork to promote Skull to Diamond. I just need your signatures in a few places. It should take a few weeks or months to process."

"That concludes my after action report," Gambino stated clearly to the assembly of my own person, my companions, my trusted officials, and my two children. Essentially, anyone and everyone that mattered. "The floor is open to any questions concerning the events of the night in question two weeks past."

While the content of the meeting was both dry and serious, I found myself far from bored by it. Gambino had done an excellent job assimilating all the collected intelligence into a cohesive report. There were a lot of [Cultists] to sift through, with over 3,000 of them being recently deceased, some of whom expired after "intensive questioning" by Alterez and Nabonidus. Another 200 or so civilians were dead or wounded, in addition to 28 combatants. The less-than-figurative witch hunt that followed uncovered a great number of corrupt individuals that ultimately ended up on the receiving end of a purge. Some were associated with this cult, others were just independently up to no good and sloppy in covering their tracks, which in itself is rather unforgivable.

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World's End found itself licking its wounds and in a scramble to recruit experienced leadership. I can make edicts all day, and Kaisadoro can work tirelessly to enforce them, but without the middle-management to carry out those duties entrusted to them, the city would become paralysed. However, that was largely his problem to solve, as he is old enough to not need me to hold his hand at every turn. He took things rather well, seeing this as a learning opportunity, which is more than I can say for his sister.

Tamadora felt utterly humiliated by how her own staff had been infiltrated. Worse, the safety of her guests had been compromised, and not just VIPs, but Chooka herself, one of the few mortals that Tamadora actually cares about. It was a whole affair in itself to both console and chastise her in just the right way to alleviate her pity party and light the fire within her to improve. Despite all appearances, she is still very young, and though she has intelligence and wisdom beyond her years, she has little practical experience with defeat and finding the resilience to try again. I am sure she could count on one hand how many people have seen her ugly cry and live, and I am one of those people.

And she was one of many people I had to "manage" in the aftermath of that night. Some people needed a quiet chat by a fire to talk about their feelings, others needed a swift kick in the behind, and some needed to be reassigned to less-demanding positions. Overall, it derailed many of my immediate plans and required a great deal of restructuring of my personnel.

The silver lining to the shitstorm of the past two weeks was how all evidence unequivocally pointed in one direction. The Theocracy of Ulsfarh was behind everything. Considering I have not discussed any other potential bad guys thus far, I am sure most of you readers are not terribly shocked by the news, but many people at the time were. Sure, the Theocracy of Ulsfarh did not have a stellar reputation, but cavorting with The Devourers was beyond the imaginations of most people. And if you look deeper, you can see that they have been in cahoots well before the invasion of our world started.

The Theocracy of Ulsfarh worships the Holy Trinity, and the worship of any other gods is highly frowned upon to say the least. The Holy Trinity consisted of a Human god of Harvests, an Elven god of Seasons, and a Dwarven god of Stone. Now, some of these Domains are rather big in scope, and while each god has more Domains in their Portfolios, those are the big ones for each god. Different gods take different approaches to how they represent a Domain. The Harvest Domain, in this context, has a strong focus on being abstract, so it is not strictly about crops. Indeed, it leans more towards any invested endeavor with a tangible product as the end goal. So, it may be less powerful when talking about crops compared to other gods with Harvest in their Portfolio, but it has a much broader reach.

Indubitably, all three gods are broad in how they interpret their Domain. Seasons concerns not just the times of the year, but also aspects of life in how there are right and wrong times to do things. This plays heavily into their "honor wars", or their on-and-off raiding in simpler terms. Stone reflects not just shaping it, but also its applications. In their major cities, all buildings are made of stone, and many tools are made from stone as well. Considering they don't have an Emperor in their pocket that specializes in building infrastructure, they actually have remarkable roads and bridges in their cities, and even a fancy aqueduct.

The problem is that a significant percentage of the population are good and honest people. They have nothing to do with betraying their whole world for power or wealth. Separating the wheat from the chaff would be a difficult undertaking, and if there is one thing I despise, it is punishing the many for the actions of individuals. There is no solace to be found for an orphan whose parents were killed because someone else in town was up to evil deeds, and I don't want to take the easy route of killing them all and letting the gods sort out their own.

To have such moral qualms as a dragon is rather unheard of, which also feels unfair. The dragons that have no problem burning down a whole village as vengeance against one or two rat bastards do just that, while those who find that as unconscionable go about rather discreet methods that do not garner much public attention. As such, dragons are getting a bad rap here, and I want to avoid being lumped in with the first group. Ergo, I need to find a way to purge the Theocracy of Ulsfarh without getting my hands dirty, which sounds a lot like having my cake and eating it, too.

As more weeks passed, I had turned up the tempo, being far more aggressive and offensive to [Noble] sensibilities in squeezing their territory and assimilating their population into my own. While I largely have carte blanche as the enforcer for the gods in how I deal with certain kinds of troublemakers, I still need to adhere to certain rules so that I do not appear to be abusing my position to seize power and land. My strategy continues to include making my own realm so appealing that the populace voluntarily undergoes an exodus to my lands. I dangle the carrot in front of them, and when they get here, they actually get the carrot, which only inspires confidence in my trustworthiness for those who are hesitant.

It is well within my right to declare war upon the Theocracy of Ulsfarh, and they know that, so their leadership scrambles to find a way to avoid that while also protecting their own interests. This has led to a most unusual and troublesome strategy to counter me.

"Our scouts report that [Nobles] have been purging the populations of their own fiefs, executing anyone who does not show undying loyalty to the Holy Trinity and absolute fealty to their betters. Technically, they are killing their own civilians, which, while some may see it as abhorrent, is well within their right as an internal matter."

Gambino delivered this news matter-of-factly, for, as a kobold, he doesn't really have much morality one way or the other. He only mimics my own sensibilities and does his best to enforce them in how he and his troupes conduct themselves. Some of the others gathered at the table have very sour expressions on their faces.

"How do you wish to respond to this development?" he asked.

All eyes were on me, for, as leader of my own people, I had to be the one to make a decision. To intervene in such internal affairs would be an act of war. To ignore a genocide would make me an enabler of evil. The Theocracy of Ulsfarh is fractured, with many factions seeking my favor or trying to undermine my advance into their territory. Also, the political boundaries are in upheaval, with many cities isolated in their own bubbles and entirely cut off from the rest of the country as a whole. Looking at a map, it would appear that tendrils of my own lands seep into theirs. I am making good progress, but it will be too little too late for many innocents if I let matters continue as they are.

I took a moment to deliberate, with private conversations occurring through my telepathic connections to my companions and children. Many were the opinions, with no real consensus to be found among them. Most were in agreement that we needed to do something to stop the atrocities being committed, but there was no unity into how to go about it.

Ultimately, I decreed my decision.

"We are not at war with the Theocracy of Ulsfarh. Direct interference with their internal affairs would be an affront to their sovereignty. Organize operatives from their former countrymen and our own specialists to help smuggle people out of the country that want to emigrate, but be discreet. I must disavow all knowledge of anyone who is caught."

While I am trying to force the Theocracy of Ulsfarh into making a desperate and foolhardy form of retaliation that would be an act of war against me, I do not want to be the one to strike first, all in a political move to make myself look like the victim and good guy. Meanwhile, average people suffer for my image and reputation as being upstanding. Yes, I took the bitch-mode answer to the problem.

And while I intellectually know that actions have consequences, I could not foresee the chain of events that such a decision would set in motion. While I knew that my actions had weight upon the world, and that the World Heart observed me, I didn't understand the implications that came with my new prowess and advanced Blessing.

Regrets come in many forms, and mine would come from taking the middle path between righteousness and warmongering. To some, I would have been a savior had I acted more decisively. To others, I would have been a tyrant, overstepping his bounds by bringing my full weight and authority down upon lands that were not mine to rule. Excuses and reasons are nothing more than ashes upon the wind to the dead, with good intentions and justifications being no more than fairytales to those who were cut down unjustly.

This would be a harsh lesson.

In The Void, a certain demigod smiled. It was one of satisfaction, of victory, of pieces falling into formation. And it was a grim smile, one of commiseration, of a shared hardship, of a lesson learned through pain. Lessons are valuable, and so the demigod pulled strings and whispered into ears, all in fulfillment of his ordained task to test the mettle of a potential peer.

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