TOS- Vol 2, Pt 4, Ch 34.5

The Overlord Saga

Vol II. Versus

Chapter 34.5: The Frozen Wasteland (Pt 2)

The Scholar stood before the entire army, a large, very frozen looking dry-erase board hung up on a tree before the ANF forces. Clearing her throat, the Scholar pointed at a rather crudely drawn map of the Between realm, pointing a metallic rod at a blob that was supposed to symbolize their forested campsite. “This is where we are,” She announced, then pointed at the square that was supposed to be the Fortress, “And here is DIB. Now, we have several miles of frozen permafrost between us and them...” She gestured to the blank space between the camp and the Fortress, “And to make things better, dragons are circulating the Fortress and a mile berth around the Fortress, rendering a foot assault impossible... I... Yes, Advisor?”


 “Why can’t we warp into the Fortress?” the Advisor asked impatiently, “Save us a lot of trouble.”

“When I was running from the Nemesis, I thought to warp. But there’s an anti-warp field he’s put up around the area,” the Overlord shook her head.

“Such spells are bound to something, usually an item of interest,” the Sorceress spoke up, “And if the item is damaged enough, or, well, destroyed, the barrier lowers. If we were able to destroy it, we could warp the entire army into the Fortress without issue.”

“A full-out attack with all of our forces would get the entire ANF decimated within minutes,” the Corporal spoke up in his rather suave voice. “We have fighters on the inside, right? Tell them to destroy the barrier.”

“We’ve no way to contact the Insurgent Leader from where we are,” the Overlord shook her head. She might’ve continued, but there was a sudden stir within the crowd. Turning to view who had stood in disapproval of their tactics, the Overlord was shocked to find the Ninja-Lord standing amidst the crowd.

“The Insurgent Leader is helping us?” the Ninja-Lord demanded, defiance in her eyes, “What? Why didn’t anyone tell me this?” The Overlord had almost forgotten the Ninja-Lord’s last run-in with the Insurgent Leader. Glancing at the Ninja-Lord’s metallic arm, she recoiled, eyes moving to the ground. There was still bad blood between the Insurgents and the Underlings, despite the fact that they needed to cooperate. She knew that she hated the fact that Sexist was sitting there, among her most loyal soldiers, as an equal when he should’ve been ridiculed and mocked for his treason. A momentary flashback to her escape from the initial Fortress attack made her hands clench Kagi’s hilt angrily- did she, too, still bear a grudge towards her brother for his underhanded tactics?

“It’s a matter of necessity,” the Overlord said, fighting to keep her voice calm. “We need all the help we can get. And he’s offered his help.”

“And what if he’s lying?” the Ninja-Lord demanded sneeringly, eyes narrowed at her leader as she continued to stand, bristling. “How do you know he’s going to help us? He could be LYING!”

“He wasn’t,” Sexist said quietly. The forces turned to view the ex-Insurgent, “He wasn’t lying. He’ll be there to help us. We all hate the Nemesis and everything he stands for. He’s a tyrant.”

“And what good is your word?” the Ninja-Lord yelled at Sexist.

“Ninja-Lord, we all know that what the Insurgent Leader did to you was wrong, but this time... We’re going to have to get his help,” the Evocator said quietly, “Please... Just sit down.”

“You idiots don’t understand. No. I refuse to accept his help. He’s an enemy and he always will be!” the Ninja-Lord declared loudly, her real hand clutching the frigid metal arm by the wrist. As the Evocator rose to comfort her, the Ninja-Lord threw a particularly rough shoulder at the magician and stalked away from the meeting angrily, Kunoichi, Shinobi, and Llama following her in obedient silence.

The Overlord stood in front of the others, quietly watching the ninjas go, “... Well then...” the Scholar cleared her throat, “We cannot contact the Insurgents and we have no way to get an entire army to the battlefield. Which means we have to send a platoon into the lion’s den in order to destroy this item... Provided that we can even find it.” She took a deep breath, then polished her fogged up glasses on her sleeve, “We’ll need a group to trek across the Wastelands and do this without error. Overlord, will you lead this attack?”

“No,” she replied, glancing at the Scholar, “In most cases, I’d allow the Ninja-Lord to have this honor, but since she’d been less than compliant, I’ll form the team myself. Swordmaster, Corporal. You’ll lead this mission. And you’ll take the Witch, the Evocator, the Sabotage Team, and Maverick.”

“A way to get through to the Fortress is necessary, by the way. I don’t know about you, but I don’t really feel like ice skating for several miles... Especially, you know, when there are dragons that could swoop down and eat me,” the Swordmaster spoke up in his usual sarcastic, bitter tone of voice.

“He has a point...” the Corporal added with a large grin.

“Let the Scholar and I plan this. We’ll get back to you once we’ve got a functional plan,” the Overlord held up a hand, “Once the barrier is down, we’ll send troops immediately. Belarus, climb to the beacon on the northwest tower of the gate and light it with your firestick. We’ll know to leave then. Twin, you’ll take the forces to the east wing. Jamie, you have the west. Soul-Keeper, I’ll give you the task of clearing out the Dungeon once we’re inside. I think there’s a young opera songstress who might want to see you...”

“Oh Christine... Christine...” the Soul-Keeper sang softly, holding himself in a hug.

“That’s what I figured...” the Overlord smirked, holding her staff in her right hand, “Once we’re inside, I’ll locate the Nemesis and defeat him myself. I was the one that started this problem. I’ll be the one to finish it. No one else needs to get hurt by him...” The shimmering image of the Theurgist could be seen next to the Evocator. Glancing from the ghostly specter to the gray skies, the Overlord felt a stinging tear eat at the corner of her eye. However she pressed it back, forcing herself to continue, “When we’ve entered the Fortress, the Insurgents will know to defect then. No one is to treat them as an enemy or they will hear from me. And you don’t piss off the Overlord.”

There was a heavy, tense silence. The Scholar rested a hand on the Overlord’s arm, then said, “We should go make our plans now. We’ve much to figure out.” With the nod of her head, the Overlord dismissed the war meeting, then began away from the dry-erase board, her red cape whipping behind her.


---

The Evocator found herself wandering the anxious campsite with not really a set destination in mind. The campfires had turned into bonfires more or less and were melting the icicles from the trees around the ANF camp. She smiled at the Sabotage team as they were polishing and repairing their weapons, specifically Russia who was having issues with her leadpipe. Holding it with gloves, the Underling tried to swing at someone, but found that the lack of friction made the pipe fly out of her hands entirely, soaring overhead... And smacking right on top of the Scribe’s head. Giggling to herself, the Evocator continued walking, taking notice of how the Grasshopper was being taught some interesting dance moves by the Apprentice. Choosing to ignore this and avert her eyes, the Evocator found herself at the outskirts of camp, particularly by where Sexist was bundled up in a blanket and drinking some hot chocolate.

“Mind if I join you?” the Evocator plopped down next to him, warming her gloved hands by the fire. Sexist nodded his head up and down and blew a twig of long blonde hair from his eyes.

“... I need a haircut...” he mumbled.

“Could always put it up in a ponytail,” the Evocator remarked with a smug look on her face. She sighed and rocked back and forth a bit on the log she was sitting on. Trying to hide the fact that her teeth were chattering, she glanced down at the fire, lost in thought a moment. She knew that if the Theurgist had still been around, she’d have had someone to snuggle. Someone to share a blanket with. Someone to talk to that she didn’t feel like a complete stranger to.

In all honesty, the Evocator wasn’t sure why she said it. But she just felt the words come out randomly, “I don’t blame you for what happened to the Theurgist.” Sexist had apparently been anticipating this, though tried not to let it show. He shifted uncomfortably, but she continued, “I know... I came off as harsh before. When you joined us... I just didn’t know what to think. Who to blame. I thought you were the one that caused all of this. But... I can see now that you aren’t.”

“I was wondering what was with the sudden attitude change...” Sexist mused to himself bitterly.

“If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s the Nemesis’. And he’s going to pay for what he did...” the Evocator’s voice trailed off, “And, the Overlord might hate you for what happened, but I don’t. You’re one of us now, and you’re going to be from now on. You’ve... learned your lesson...”

“I don’t regret trying to be free,” Sexist admitted quietly, “I don’t regret that I tried. I just regret what it took.”

“I understand that...” the Evocator was holding back tears, “And one day, she’ll understand it, too.”

“I wish she’d understand it now. She thinks I don’t notice? The glares. How she’s always avoiding me. She looks at me like I’m some sort of abomination,” Sexist laughed humorlessly, “In a way, it’s sort of funny.”

“One day, people will accept what happened and they’ll move along with life. But... It’s just so hard when the wounds are fresh. I could never bring myself to forgive the Nemesis. Not now at least...” the Evocator replied and the two fell silent for a moment. Sexist picked up a piece of ice that was melting from the heat of the fire and began to toss it back and forth in his hands thoughtfully. The Evocator watched him, then added, “Life here isn’t so bad, you’ll find. You were here before, you... might learn to like it.”

“We’ll see...” Sexist mumbled.

“Don’t be so emo!” the Evocator scolded lightly, “And sitting here by yourself isn’t going to solve much. Come on... You still need to be fitted for your ANF armor, right? Might as well get something productive done while we have downtime.”

“Hm. I suppose so...” Sexist stood up after finishing his hot chocolate. The Evocator joined him, then stepped over the log they’d been sitting on, walking towards the armory. Sexist followed her, catching sight of the cloaked Maverick as she sat beneath a tree, observing him silently.
‘What a creep’, he thought, trying to shrug off the sinister grin on the hermit’s face.

---

The Scholar sat at a separate campfire, arms tucked into her sleeves. Glancing over at where the other members of the Elite sat, she cleared her throat, then stated, “It’s been awhile since we were all here together.” There was an immediate, overwhelming silence. The Twin shifted in her chair awkwardly, glancing at the ground stiffly. The Swordmaster’s head bobbed up and down in agreement. Venice remained motionless, expressionless.

“There’s a giant elephant in the camp,” the Corporal remarked casually, “And I figure we might as well shove it in a corner and save it for later. When we’re not, you know, at the verge of a major crisis.”

“The fact is that we let our guard down when we split,” the Sorceress said regretfully. “Something like this should never have happened. It was our duty to make sure the Between was not harmed.”

“She’s right,” Venice’s voice was quiet, mellowed, and soft. She ran a hand through her long brown hair, then looked back at the others, remorse in her eyes. The other Elite members had gone completely and utterly still. “We fought over the stupidest things. It all seemed so important at the time. But it was stupid. And it was wrong.”

“So what happens now?” the Twin asked, arms folded, “Are you suggesting we re-start the Elite?”

“No. I’m suggesting that we remember what our task was,” Venice replied, glancing over at the Twin calmly. “We’ve all changed so much. But the fact is that the threats here remain the same. Perhaps we could still be Elite members... But with our own posts. Our own jobs, positions, through various parts of the world.”

“Suggests the one that ditched this Realm entirely,” the Swordmaster remarked scathingly, standing up and stretching, “I’ve been doing my job. Granted... It hasn’t been easy...”

“No. You and Woodson have been sitting around playing Halo. Not protecting the Second Realm,” the Scholar chided, “Honestly, we were given a task. We need to fulfill it to the best of our abilities. The Overlord’s trying to complete her mission, and it’s motivated me enough to start trying to complete ours as well!”

“I’ve a Fort. An army. And I’m kind of happy with the way things are going for me now that DIB is out of my place,” the Twin remarked. “I can’t just up and leave.”

“Here’s a better idea... Let’s wait and see what happens. We very well all might die in the incoming fight,” the Swordmaster pointed out, “As unlikely as it seems for us to die now, it’s a possibility. So let’s not make too huge of plans, mmkay?”

“Oh Swordmaster, always so wise and benevolent,” the Corporal beamed sarcastically, fluttering his eyelashes before laughing raucously, “Nothing’s going to happen. So don’t worry about it.”

“I... Wouldn’t be too sure,” the Scholar frowned, “You are leading a highly dangerous expedition into very dangerous territory, Corporal Woodson. Something could very well happen to you.”

“I could also take a sip of this tea...” he picked up a goblet and took a swig of the sweeted tea before setting the golden cup back down. After swallowing, he finished, “... And choke to death. Death’s all around us. It’s not like it’s that far, just a hop over to the Third Realm.”

“Hilarious as ever,” the Sorceress rolled her eyes and playfully swatted at the Corporal.

“Regardless...” the Scholar began firmly, “We’ve a lot on our plate with this battle. A lot is at stake here, and we cannot afford to slack off on our efforts any longer. Woodson, Matthew- the fate of this campaign ultimately rests on you.” She tapped her hand with her rod weapon lightly, leering at the two over her glasses. The Swordmaster had a cookie crammed in his face, but bobbed his head up and down in understanding. The Corporal merely shrugged it off casually, then leaned back, hands folded behind his head smugly. The Scholar pushed her glasses up further on the bridge of her nose, then huffed a sigh, “Well, I suppose that’s settled, then! We’ll have to wait to see what fate has in store for the Second Realm.”

“If fate has anything at all in store for the Second Realm...” Venice remarked quietly, looking across the frozen wasteland and toward the halfway-crumbling Fortress.

---


The Overlord stood in her tent once more, staring at her reflection as if trying to decipher what exactly was different about her. She checked her eyes- green as spring and alight with fire- but they still seemed unusual. Old, perhaps, aged with worry and fear. Unlike the bright eyes of the ninja that had left Tamashii that fateful night, bent on the destruction of the Uberlord’s dark army. Did she remember the old days? Yes, more vividly now, but she didn’t want to think of that now. Every time she thought of Tamashii, she thought of Warwick. She thought of what happened, and the newfound memories came flooding back once more. The funny part about it all was the coldness that consumed her, clawing at her heart and tearing into her mind. For once, it seemed like the fire within had died, the passion for fighting had been diminished...

... Replaced with a lust for death. There was such a difference between killing and fighting. One had an art. The other had mindless rage. And she was beginning to succumb to it. She clutched the hilt of her sword, pupils narrowing as she felt a brief wave of hatred overcome her. She wanted to cleave the mirror in half, forget what had happened to her, and forget that Alexi had died.

“Firebrand they call ye. Or so Maverick did,” Maverick’s voice was a whisper for once, as opposed to its typical brash obnoxiousness. “Because Maverick saw Saevio within you. The uncontrollable fury in battle. As the Vikings had their berserkers, the Underlings have you.”

“I’ll use it. I’ll tear through him and make him regret ever showing his face,” the Overlord’s voice was callous.

“Saevio will not save you. It is a blind rage. And it leads to destruction only,” Maverick cautioned, waddling over to the Overlord’s side, “The Nemesis... He has Firebrand’s scythe. The thief’s bounty hath been stolen!”

“I took that scythe from the Grim Reaper himself,” the Overlord retorted, “I have every intention of getting it back.”

“He who holds the scythe is the Grim Reaper. Is death. Caution, Firebrand... Caution...” Maverick whispered, clutching her staff with both hands, “The Vikings had Saevio in their veins, but they also had something else in their beliefs.”

“I think I know what you’re talking about. But I don’t think I like it,” the Overlord remarked, glancing down into the Maverick’s dark brown eyes, “Are you implying I ought to do something incredibly drastic and dramatic... For plotline’s sake?”

“Or for your own sake. Though... I do not recommend venturing beyond the body very long. Don’t want to end up like your father, do you?” Maverick teased, though the Overlord merely recoiled at the remark She didn’t ask how the hermit knew. She had learned long ago not to question these things. Maverick cackled, then shrugged her shoulders, “The chains that bind Firebrand... ought to break free.”

“I want to kill.”

“And so you shall.”


---

Night had fallen upon the campsite. Sexist found himself walking in the woods, bored from simply sitting and waiting with the rest of the ANF forces. He bent a few branches back as he walked, his armor clanking against a trunk he bumped into. He exhaled loudly, watching wisps of his breath drift into the air before him. It was so cold- but he felt perfectly fine. He wondered why this was, but didn’t want the answer. Somewhere, inside, he knew the answer. Passing by a frozen pond, he ran his hand over a partially frozen-through tree, recalling the woods as they usually were in the summer. He remembered when he had been the General of the Insurgents, appointed by the Insurgent Leader himself at the start of the Insurgent-Underling Army wars. He remembered how the Second Realm had been under the reign of the Dark Legion- the Uberlord’s troops. Things were so different now... So frozen.

“Fall away...
My soul wandered,
Borne by grace.
I flew on high,
Sheltered from this thunder.
Calling Heaven...”

The voice was a rustle within the leaves, startling him as he looked through the winterland. He swore he saw someone stirring amidst the trees and bushes, far-off in the distance. As any fool in any fantasy story, he pursued, moving as quietly as he could through the trees in his silver armor. He hadn’t gotten far before he heard the next set of lyrics, muttered, though loud enough for him to hear.

“Take me away from time and season
Far, far away we’ll sing with reason.
Prepare a throne of stars above me,
As the world once known will leave me...”

“What are you doing?” Someone hissed behind him. Sexist whirled around to see the Soul-Keeper, standing amidst the snowy forest with his hood down and black hair swirling in the gale. He looked different without his hood up- Sexist almost had pictured him to be so young and normal looking.

Sexist put a finger to his lips, quieting the Overlord’s second-in-command. Pointing at where someone was moving up ahead, Sexist motioned for the Soul-Keeper to follow him. The two set off in silence, the Soul-Keeper clutching his wooden staff in one hand as he followed Sexist through the woods.

“Take me away upon a plateau
Far, far away from fears and shadow
Strengthen my heart in times of sorrow,
Light the way to bright tomorrows.

Answer our call in desperate hours
Shelter our fall from earthly powers,
Temper our souls with flame and furnace,
Bear us toward a noble purpose...”

“It’s a woman,” the Soul-Keeper realized.

“It’s the Overlord,” Sexist exchanged looks with the Soul-Keeper, confused and intrigued at the same time.

“Heaven hides nothing in its measure,
Mortal men blinded by false treasure,
Formless and vanquished, we shall travel,
Shield and sword will guide our battle.”

She was standing at the edge of the woods by now, clad fully in armor. Her staff hung at her back, Kagi at her side. She was alone as far as the other two could tell. Her helmet was tucked under her arm, her light brown hair blowing in the wind as she faced the Fortress, her green eyes narrowed angrily at the enemy’s lair. The Soul-Keeper made a move to approach her, but Sexist held out an arm, shooting him a cautious, yet imperative look.

“Salvation comes in desperate hours,
Angels on high proclaim these powers,
Lead us from chaos- we shall follow,
Bear us to a bright tomorrow.”

“What’s she doing?” Sexist whispered, looking at the Soul-Keeper imploringly.

“I... have no freaking idea. But it seems important, so let’s watch,” the Soul-Keeper nodded.

The Overlord had placed her helmet upon her head, the feathers blowing in the wind as she faced the Frozen Wasteland. Sexist couldn’t quite tell what was happening, but suddenly, she was on her knees, as if having some sort of episode. Gasping for air, she held herself up with two hands, coughing and violently spasming. The Overlord was dying- Sexist was sure of it. She fell completely and he took a few steps forward to help her, but found that the Soul-Keeper was holding him firmly by the shoulder.

“No...” the Soul-Keeper shook his head, “No, I know what she’s doing... I’ve seen this...”

“She’s dying!” Sexist hissed.

“No, no, trust me...” the Soul-Keeper pulled Sexist back into the bushes.

Golden lines ran across her body, as it they were being etched in her skin. As they formulated around her chest, they suddenly shot forth, taking the shape of a massive dog creature. As the golden entity took the shape of some monstrous wolf-human, the Overlord’s body fell to the ground, a crystal shield concealing it. Sexist watched the massive biped wolf as it rose from the ground, partially clothed and wielding a sheath containing a massive curved blade. Its hair fell in some beaded and braided mane, fang tips exposed from under its lips. Its dark fur rippled in the harsh wind, and then, it surged forth, all four legs gripping the ice with each stride. A piercing howl shook the Between, slicing through the ice. Pulses of fire shot forth from the earth, spiraling into the sky and melting the snow. Cracks of lava and fire veined through the permafrost, spreading throughout the Wasteland.

Sexist wasn’t sure what he was watching, but it seemed terrifying and amazing all at the same time. “Fenrisulfr,” the Soul-Keeper was saying, watching as the dark-furred creature tore through the ice in its maddened sprint at the Fortress. “It’s her spirit unleashed. Like Ryuu. Like the Zilant.” The Soul-Keeper turned and looked at where the Twin, Jamie, and the Swordmaster had gathered behind them.

“Holy crap,” Jamie stammered, arms folded, “I knew she was going to snap one of these days.”

“The platoon! The one to disable the shield!” the Twin began excitedly, “They can get across.”

“We have a giant effin’ wolf tearing up crap right now. Do we really need that platoon?” the Swordmaster complained. He was answered with a series of glares. Sighing and shrugging, he began sulking away, muttering something about gathering the Corporal and the others for the mission.

“She won’t stay that way for long,” Maverick appeared suddenly, standing amidst the gatherers with a smug look on her features, “Enough time to clear the skies temporarily. Look...” She pointed at where Fenrisulfr had leapt into the sky, blade cleaving into a dragon. As the dragon came spiraling down from the heavens, the massive beast had moved on to another of the flying lizards, howling ferociously.

“Twin, ready the troops. Captain, Lieutenant, help the Overlord take down the dragons. She’s melted enough ice so you guys can get within missile-firing range,” the Scholar appeared as well, beaming at the melting ice. “We’ll have a distraction force at the front so that the Swordmaster and Corporal can sneak in without problem. Maybe the Nemesis will take the bait and will send all his guards to the frontline.”

“Doubtful, but sure,” Jamie shrugged, “I’m all up for a butt-kicking. It’s high time we finished this dang war.”

“Her body...” the Soul-Keeper cast a glance at the concealed form of the Overlord, dormant and lifeless.

“Don’t worry. She’ll be fine,” the Twin clapped her hands, “We gonna kick some ass now.”