Chrysalis Chapter 1740 - What Could’ve Been Done?

Things... they could've turned out smoother. Everything was proceeding nicely until that foolish Priest rushed forward. I was attempting to exhaust the soldiers so they'd lack the strength for a real struggle, but the... let's call it the spectacle that unfolded meant far more folks than anticipated wound up injured.

Should I take the fall for releasing those Starcrushers? Perhaps. To my credit, they pretty much cornered me into it. A massive blade of light hovered above me as if I were chumming around with Damocles, for crying out loud! Action was demanded!

Maybe I ought to have curbed my more... volatile urges, yet what's finished is finished.

And what's finished is this clash.

As two battalions from the Colony storm in, joined by Tiny, Crinis, and Invidia, the fight wraps up quickly and somewhat disappointingly. The Church's fighters appear determined to battle until the last, even as their position deteriorates fast, yet they're the weariest and most depleted of all here. A few look downright withered, suggesting they could use some extra water.

The will might burn bright, but the body craves fluids.

For the warriors who ventured from Green Mountain, they spot the inevitable sooner and drop their weapons. Reaching that point requires another thirty minutes to gather everyone, sort out the chaos, provide healing, and handle the routine chores of ending a skirmish.

This allows me a chance to pause and recover somewhat. Following the thorough thrashing I endured over a prolonged stretch, my body remains flooded with regeneration fluid. Surface cuts seal up swiftly, though certain fixes drag on. Among my damages, the carapace demands the most time due to its sturdy makeup.

At present, I'm riddled with fractures, dents, and gashes. Certain strikes pierced clean through, carving profound grooves that heal gradually from within. Despite the plentiful restorative liquid and the backing of my internal shell layers, the extent of harm I absorbed remains somewhat alarming.

Still, allowing ten thousand assailants to pummel me sans retaliation... well, perspective matters, I guess.

Though the wounds run deep and wide, the healing system will mend them shortly. As a trial for this organ's might, outcomes couldn't have been superior. Elevating it to +15 has rendered it utterly absurd. I dread to think of its state at +40.

Gweheheheh, could I ever be bested?!

Hold on, no rushing ahead. A direct Singularity hit would likely roast me instantly. Given my ability to unleash such force, it'd be idiotic to think others can't match it.

“Eldest, are you okay?”

Victor steps out from the surrounding activity and approaches me, seeming to have descended to relieve Sloan. She's thriving in scenarios like this, arranging all details and keeping operations fluid.

“I'm good,” I assure her. “Remarkably good, actually. It didn't go perfectly, but I'm not griping about my part.”

“I need to express regret for how events unfolded, Eldest. We ought to have foreseen that some could get overly eager and disrupt formation.”

“Victor, enough. We both recognize who's at fault for that disaster, and it isn't you.”

“We should have foreseen it.”

“How could anybody foresee what that lunatic might pull?” I retort, snapping my mandibles in scorn. “I'll deliver harsh words to the Priest upon returning to the nest. For now, ensure he's sobbing out of my sight.”

Because he is sobbing. Still.

“Understood, Eldest. Meanwhile, what shall we do with the prisoners from Green Mountain? Bring them along?”

I ponder briefly.

“Nah, I don't believe so. Release them. It'll ease their pain somewhat, increasing chances they'll cough up for the next batch of prisoners.”

“Certain, Eldest? It feels... lenient.”

It likely does, but weighing everything, I'm aiming for them to grasp the pointlessness of warring with the Colony and avoid launching all-out war regardless of expense. With these troops sharing firsthand tales of how tough it is to fell me, that ought to temper the delvers' greed for the reward. Simultaneously, it'll dampen urges to heighten the strife. Two gains from one move. Efficiency at its finest.

“We've got plenty of prisoners already to manage,” I note, “and scant time to transport them. These Church forces will cram our cells full anyway. Fingers crossed we snag their ransom promptly.”

“Oh, that jogs my memory, Eldest. Among the prisoners, we spotted someone we figured you'd want informed about.”

That piques my interest.

“Really? Someone familiar?”

“You encountered him before, I think. Priest Beyn has shown value here, aiding us in spotting a non-fighter who joined the fray. Grand Priest Alir Vinting.”

Grand Priest... Alir Vinting?

Hmm. That title stirs a memory. A quiver runs through me, a subtle echo of shadow from the shadowed vault deep in my thoughts. The domain of the Dark One.

Only one implication from such unrest: Grand Priest Alir Vinting committed something grave, and I'll uncover precisely what.