There are many grand assumptions that people happen to live with. Most of them are benign and not worth questioning, the assumption that one will not die in their sleep for example or maybe the assumption that the sun will indeed rise on the next day. To entertain these ideas is to lose oneself in endless thought about things that one is powerless to stop.

I cannot say this was my idea and maybe for the first time in my writings, credit will be given to someone bar the magnificence that is me. It is Arascus who explained this idea to me, and it is the assumption of failure. The single, most vital and most important assumption one makes about themselves is the assumption of failure or of success. Working under the former effectively removes any chance at gain for the mind itself will self-sabotage even the most resilient of plans when it wants to fail.

A mind intent on success though will pull through, no matter whether success takes an instant or a lifetime.

– Excerpt from the private writings of Goddess Malam, of Hatred, dated to just before the Great War.

Arascus stepped through the side-door of Raptor One as it flew above Hole Hamenthal. This was Doschia’s biggest entrance to the underground. It sat underneath the mountain Hamen, the largest in the region and bearing a mountain-top Hold of the same name. This location had been chosen for its proximity to Klavdiv over anything else, the Hold itself was so far up the mountain that it was effectively inaccessible for vehicles without a massive terraforming effort to construct gentle sloping road along it. At least, that had been one of the propositions for turning this mountain into the Empire’s main entrance to the underground.

The other had been to skip the Hold entirely. At the end of the day, the Hold was just a Hold, it was barely populated with a few hundred dwarves and then ten times the same amount in humans, although that was all the workers who were working on Hole Hamenthal. Either way, excavations needed to be done. Either way, they would have to reinforce the mountain, either way, a tunnel would have to be dug for the gentle incline of a train, either way, it would be expensive. Arascus preferred to pay the premium now to not have to deal with the issues caused by mountainous infrastructure later. There was no risk of avalanches or ground slipping away under one’s foot in a tunnel.

Raptor One shot off towards Lubska to return to Helenna’s film set. Hamenthal had no airstrip and there was no point making the pilot land for the sake of dropping Arascus off. Malam was working with the Goddess of Love now. Arascus had seen the reports, Helenna was demanding reshoot after reshoot although progress was being made even though the movie had turned into being some sort of documentary. Arascus gave them the time they needed, if they managed to mythologize the two planes into mass consciousness, then that would make sure the foundation was set and more mechanical Divines could easily be pulled into existence. Arascus let himself fall quickly towards the ground, there was no show to be held here.

Besides, he doubted that most of the workers would see him fall in the first place. Arascus activated his magic when he fell two thirds of the way and immediately felt how himself be slowed down the sluggish pace of flight his power stabilized him to. Hole Hamenthal was a marvel of engineering and it was exactly what its name said it was. A tunnel large enough to fit a giant through already existed and it was still being expanded. Men suspended on rope or standing on crane or scaffolding worked out with drill as tunnel bores carved huge gashes into the earth. A new mountain had appeared here since Arascus had last visited, a grey mound of rubble that puffed out dust with every gust of wind. A snake of trucks was constantly circling around, taking the remains of the mountain on their way out and returning for more. Every machine known to man was working here, even ones Arascus had never seen before. Two huge diggers, the size of a city block in themselves, were assisting with the excavations. They gnawed away at the mountain like a set of furious rats as their crews ran over their decks.

Arascus’ eyes suddenly caught sight of a blinking light from a terrace which had been cut into the mountain. A car park for vehicles, with a long thin path on which men were working to install lines that would hold cable cars which would take workers to the Hold Hamen. It was a sharp light, and very bright. Was it just some device or was it someone trying to get his attention? Arascus began to hover through the air towards it, below him teams of engineers looked up at what Divine had just arrived, but they quickly went back to maintaining one of the massive tunnel bores that had been dragged out on ropes by a pair of bulldozers. The flashing stopped when Arascus started getting closer, and Arascus saw the glint of Kavaa’s grey hair first. The Goddess of Health took up an entire parking space for herself, she stood in a black coat that would be appropriate for winter colds. So she had wanted to go into the underground then.

Arascus hovered to the woman and gently set himself down as to not leave potholes in the tarmac. Kavaa looked up at Arascus and acknowledged him with an upwards flick of her head. “Are you going in?” Arascus asked.

“I was supposed to.” Kavaa said. “I want to collect Neneria.” Arascus raised an eyebrow as Kavaa’s grey eyes looked over him. “You don’t look happy.” Arascus ignored that last comment. These things were dealt with alone, or maybe with family. Kavaa was a friend, true, and she was close to Kassandora, but who was she exactly? Just the Goddess of Health? Arascus pushed the meandering thoughts away.

“I just met the Union’s Etala.”

“And?” Kavaa asked. She turned around, Arascus didn’t want her to look at him at this point. He walked past her and stared out over Hole Hamenthal. Kavaa made a lighter tone. “Either it went very well or very badly if you have nothing to say.”

“I just found a job for you that’s urgent. And by urgent, that means I want you in the UNN by tomorrow.” Arascus said. “How urgent is Neneria?”

“Very urgent.” Kavaa said. “I need her, Elassa and Kassie.” Odd group, although he had seen this exact same odd group before, recently even.

“Who are we resurrecting?” Arascus asked. “Also, how long would it take you to establish Clerical Orders in the UNN?”

“It’s not resurrection.” Kavaa answered quickly. “And to answer that, am I working alone?”

“You have full Imperial support. Take what and who you want, within reason of course.” Arascus only added that last one so that the woman wouldn’t be saying she needed Kassandora to start a few doctor’s orders.

“I mean, what for? Just decorational? The biggest issue with new Orders is filtering new men.” Kavaa said slyly and bumped her elbow against Arascus. “I’m not saying that I want you to design something for me, but it would be immensely helpful.” The God of Pride stared off at that mountain which wasn’t a mountain but rather just a tremendous pile of rubble. “Since you’re so good with people after all. Better than me.” Arascus knew exactly what she was doing, which was trying to put the work off to him.

“They won’t like it if I’m around too much.” Arascus kept his tone gentle. “Ciria isn’t fond of us. Anyone from before her time really, but me especially. She’ll get argumentative and pushy if I’m there.”

“And she won’t with me?”

Arascus took a deep breath. Ultimately Divines he respected, he could offend and there was no way to say this without offending. “I have more of a destabilizing reputation Kavaa. You’re the Goddess of Health, who sat in the White Pantheon and you’re not one of my daughters. You can hide behind that. Just tell her you don’t make decisions of policy and to fuck off.”

Kavaa giggled to herself. “You do know me.”

Arascus simply said it how it was. “I wasn’t being farcical because I know what you’re like. If you’re going to snap at her then snap at her and Halkus. Keep the UNN out of it. Etala is more amicable than we thought.” That actually made Kavaa tense. Arascus felt the Goddess stop moving for a moment.

“Are you sure?”

“Sure about what?” Arascus asked.

“Well I’ve never been much good at diplomacy.”

“I’m sure Kavaa.” And besides, there wasn’t anyone but Kavaa who could realistically go. Helenna’s current job was too important, Malam had the same issue that Arascus did which is that everyone knew she was the Imperial Spymaster, Kassie was busy. Fer could do Arascus supposed, but Fer would probably just end up killing Ciria. Certainly Kavaa was better than Neneria or Olephia or Anassa.

“Alright then.” Kavaa said. “What is it?” Arascus pulled out a piece of paper from his coat and gave it to Kavaa.

“The full details are on there. It’s Clerics for civilian jobs, the UNN doesn’t even know how many injured it has but how this will end is they leave the sick out to fend for themselves or they bankrupt themselves. That was our foot in the door, it has to be done quickly because I did just end up declaring you’re going to come and fix their situation.”

Kavaa snorted in humour as she put the piece of paper into her own coat without even reading it. “You know what Arascus?”

“What?”

“I always thought it was incredible how you just make these proclamations. Anyone else would say it’s unreasonable.”

“We can manage.” Arascus answered. That was the genuine truth, he knew it was unreasonable, but he knew that they could manage too. That was how they all operated after all, they simply managed.

“Oh we can.” Kavaa agreed. “Now do you want to hear about my urgent thing?”

“Let’s hear it.”

Her tone was so confident that Arascus was sure she believed in what she was saying. “I think I have a way to wake Baalka.” And for a single moment, everything stopped. It was as if the entire world had decided to descend down upon Arascus, as if all the machinery around them disappeared. All the workers, all the soldiers, the cars and trucks and rumbling train tracks faded out of reality. Even the wind and the dusty air stopped mattering. The UNN and Etala and Ciria and everything else simply faded out of existence.

Arascus believed her.

He believed her and his first thought had been that the timing was poor. Arascus took a deep breath and allowed himself a smile. There was no reason to feel bad. Another daughter was finally going to return. Precious little Baalka would be awoken. He culled the smile just as quickly as he culled his hopes. “You’ve tried before.”

“I have a different idea this time.”

“Are you going to kill her and resurrect her?” Arascus was putting two and two together considering who Kavaa said she was wanting. The Goddess of Health tilted her head from side to side.

“Well I’ve done it on Maisara.” Arascus supposed that was true, then, it was Kassie who ran the operation through War’s Orchestra. If there was anyone on this world who could perfectly repeat a movement, then it would be Kassandora. And yet… Arascus took a deep breath. He simply did not like it.

“Do you have evidence it will work?” He asked. Baalka he had adopted as a daughter. She had survived the Great War. She… He could just imagine what would happen if it didn’t work out. And those thoughts were pushed away. Waiting out whatever curse the Jungle had foisted upon her obviously wasn’t working.

“I managed to remove Furcas’ essence from Fer. Just cleanse her, I didn’t even know that was possible.” Kavaa said. “She ripped out her own stomach and I regrew it.”

“We don’t know what is wrong with Baalka.”

“Elassa annihilates her body, Neneria keeps her soul in place, I rebuild her, Kassie makes sure it all goes smoothly. It’s worth a shot.” Arascus smiled to himself. It was indeed worth a shot. It… That little thought confirmed to Arascus that no matter what he thought of himself, he was still the exact same person that he had been when the Great War was declared and when the Great War was lost. When Paramethus died. The same he had been through the Age of Heroes, through Worldbreaking, the exact same battered wolf that had survived along with humanity when beasts so great they hunted Divines still roamed this world. What sort of father said that killing his daughter in the attempt to wake her up was worth a shot?

And yet, even though Arascus cared, even though he didn’t like the thought, even though he knew it should disgust him, even though it was something that should not be said, that was so inhuman that mortals would probably ascribe such behaviour to the demons of Tartarus, he was still that same wolf who had been there when humanity spent an entire Era teetering on the extinction’s knife-edge.

Back then, Baalka would have been left behind because to hold onto a living corpse was a luxury. It was what it was, he could not change his own behaviour. Arascus made the call. “I’ll call Neneria back. You start work on the UNN. She’s somewhere between Rilia and Arika so you have a week to get started, then you come back, then you go back to the UNN again. That’s the plan.”

No one ever said it is what it is when they felt good about themselves.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep