Captains Erik and Douglas sat on a pair of fold-out chairs on a Rilian runway. Lubska had started showing the first signs of winter with snows although here in Anoa, bar the fact that the sky was slightly dreary, it may as well have still been early autumn. It was warm enough for both Raptor pilots to have shimmied out of their flight-suits as they leaned back and smoked. Supposedly, Ocean Above was to turn the planes into Divines. Douglas had no clue what that meant, he just hoped that the Raptor becoming being a deity would not put him out of a job.

Douglas took a long drag of his cigarette and tapped it to drop the ash on the runway as the ground crew began retreating from the two huge planes. Each of the planes had guzzled half a tanker’s worth of fuel although they wouldn’t need the full tank. Rancais was next on the list, with a low-speed, low-altitude flight over most of the major cities in the south. The schedule was tight, it was to be synced with viewings of Ocean Above. Then they would another thirty minute smoke break and onto north Rancais. And that would the day done.

Douglas took a deep breath and the cigarette in one hand and then the coffee in his over. Rilians had good coffee, he had to admit. “We’re back at it.” He said to Erik, although didn’t bother directing his voice to the other pilot. Ever since this movie had released, they seemingly had gained the same terrifying status that high-ranking officers possessed. Normal crews had started to avoid them entirely. Hopefully it would be better in Rancais than it was here.

“Fucking Hell.” Erik said as he finished up. Douglas grabbed his black flight suit on the tarmac. At least it was dry here, in Lubska it had been raining. “Fucking hate show-flights.”

“What? You feel like a retiree?”

“Fucking do.”

“I’ve lost men.” Maisara said quietly to Fortia as they walked along the walls of the Guardian’s main fortress. Gracya’s sky was almost never dull, but the light-blue was just skirting the edge of what would be considered dreary. Even though the sun was beginning to set, the sky simply refused the colourful purple, red and orange tapestry of evening and clung to its coat of blue. From the fortifications, they could see the organized camp of tents that Maisara’s Paladins had planted onto the ground. Then there was another for the rest of the Guardians that could not actually fit in the fortress. It was so many men it could have made up a White Pantheon army during the Great War. “Consecutively now, this is the second month of no recruitment.”

“I know.” Fortia said. The two Goddesses took another step, their armours clinked as they walked. Fortia’s chattering bronze was slightly louder than Maisara’s silver. “It’s the same here.”

“Nothing in Epa.” Maisara said. Frankly, she did not even want to explain herself or go into detail. Fortia apparently did.

“I have seven newcomers from Guguo.” Even that number had shrunk. Rarely would anyone from so far off join an Order when they had their own Temple Sects to join. “And three from the UNN.” That alone said how bad the situation was. Holy Orders recruited on their own prestige and when they ran out of prestige, then they would recruit based off the fact that they had treasuries which spanned thousands of years. Any crisis and any need had always been the best recruitment office for souls that had nothing but themselves to offer.

“I have no one.” Maisara replied.

“No?”

“Not a single person joined. I’ve dropped forty-nine over two months.” The two Goddesses came to a stop and looked out at the mountainous terrain of inland Gracya. Fatigue was beginning to set in. The Divine Mountain had such its doors as it waited for Allasaria to return with Paraideisius. It had taken years before, hopefully once they learned of the threat they would be hastier than in the past. “This can’t go on.” Maisara said.

“From the top of the world down to the bottom.” Fortia said. “And we have another issue. It’s why I called you out here.”

“And not in your office?”

“I did not want the men to hear.” Fortia explained slowly. “But there’s a bigger issue on the horizon. We’ll start feeling it about forty days from now and two months is the hard limit. Then it is over.”

“What?”

“My granaries are beginning to run low.” Maisara blinked to Fortia’s serious tone and felt as if the world’s gravity had just gotten twice as strong for a moment. She leaned on one of the dark crenulations and saw this fortress in the Great War, with Fortia by her side and a full Imperial Legion coming down on them.

Immediately, Maisara tried to find a solution. She did not even know why she said the first option, she knew it was impossible. “Can’t the Epan estates…” And she trailed off. Fortia’s gold-bronze turned to her and the Goddess of Peace made a wry smile for a moment before shaking her head.

“I know.” Fortia said. “I still think of calling tithe every now and then.” She made a sad, low chuckle and smooth the plate-mail skirt. A plane flew in the distance and further on, where the coasts could be seen, a small fishing ship was busy working into the evening. The thousands of estates and private farms that both White Pantheon Goddesses had started being seized during the first Epan War with the Epan Coalition, although the mortals had been slow. When Empire came to Epa, it had not taken even a week for military soldiers to raid almost every location in Epa bar the most secret hideouts and supply caches.

Maisara took a deep breath. “Do you know what I was just going to say?”

“Where you going to suggest Arika?” Fortia asked. “Because that is where I default to.”

“I was actually going to say the UNN.” Maisara said. There was no point attempting Arika frankly, a third of the continent was already Imperial and every other nation was cozying up to Arascus to maintain good relations. It could have been to keep the trade open or because they were afraid of being seized whether through invasion or coup, but the reasoning did not matter. The end result was that Arika had closed itself off entirely to the White Pantheon. Only Khmet maintained amicable relations and that was purely because they were geographically close.

“I’ve petitioned them already.” Maisara said. “And Ciria gave the reply.”

“Mmh.” Maisara said. Maybe in the past, they could have relied on the Goddess of Civilization. Not after the Invasion of Kirinyaa and certainly not after the Epan War. Those two events had all but made certain that Ciria would not be receptive anymore. “It wasn’t good.”

“No. She sent me an eight page long essay. It’s on my desk if you want to read it.”

“Eight pages?”

“I suppose she doesn’t have much going on.” Fortia answered.

“Arascus and Kavaa are over there now.” Maisara said.

“You know what?” Fortia asked.

“What?”

“I actually want Arascus to beat her after reading the eight page shadowboxing session she had against me.” Fortia said coyly. “But pretend you didn’t hear that.”

“I never liked her anyway.” Maisara said. That wasn’t even a lie. A Goddess with a title as grand as Civilization, with a husband who was so grand as to be Of Industry, should have forced her way into the White Pantheon long ago. Instead, she had just let Allasaria talk her out of it. What was she doing now anyway? Did she really think that alone she could go up against either the Pantheon or the Empire? What sort of grand narcissism was that? “Pichqasuyu.” That was the next suggestion.

“Do you know what Pichqasuyu produces?” Fortia asked. Of course Maisara knew, she was the Goddess of Order. And immediately, she saw the problem of the mountainous country.

“Gold, tin, they’re one of the world’s biggest exporters of copper.” Maisara said. That position was slowly being threatened by Kirinyaa.

“Is food on the list?”

“They’re a food importer.” Maisara said and took a deep breath. The other countries in the region had been hit by Continent Cracking’s tsunamis and all but destroyed them. There was Ihon, another food importer. “Guguo?”

“Guguo.” Fortia said. “Dealing with their sects makes me remember the Age of Heroes.” Fortia said wistfully. “We have some imports from them but they refuse to sell us anything but their excess and it’s bottom of the barrel material at that. Feudal lords were easier to negotiate with.”

“Feudal lords lived next to us and not on the other side of the world.” Maisara said and Fortia nodded.

“True true.” She said. “But we’re out of options and I’m not joking Mai. We don’t have Iniri anymore, I contacted Zerus and he said the mountain is staring down the barrel of the same gun we are so even the Pantheon itself is no help.”

Maisara took a deep breath and looked down at her hands. The only reason she had not returned to the mountain was because death and resurrection had effectively completed her vows, or at least fulfilled them to a high enough standard that she considered them finished. “I’m not returning there.” The Goddess of Order said slowly.

“I’m not asking you to.” Fortia said. “There’s nothing for us to see there anyway.” The Goddess of Peace swept her arm over the landscape. The troops had started to light evening campfires, the contrast against the flame’s light forced a blanket of darkness over the hills. Thin trails of grey smoke had begun to rise into the sky and the smell of organized cooking was beginning to waft in the still air. “But just as the men have a duty to me, I have a duty to them. I know you’ll understand Mai.”

“I do.” Between the two of them, there were almost a hundred and fifty thousand men here. The only reason that they maintained order and did not descend into chaos was by virtue of being Holy Orders. Maisara’s and Fortia’s Holy Orders at that. The boat in the distance turned its light on as the fishermen continued their long day. “But even if Allasaria returns, I don’t care anymore. I’m not going to stand in another Pantheon.”

“Mmh.” Fortia said as she leaned on Maisara. “And we’re in debt.”

Maisara looked down at her hands again. One of them was swiftly hidden when Fortia grasped Maisara’s fingers with her own. “I know.” Maisara said. Debt for being brought back to life, although everyone knew that. That one, Maisara did not even consider a debt. It was, to some extent, but she could see Arascus’ logic in it. Bringing her back was an obvious ploy to return the leader of the Paladins back to them because most of them were from Epa. Order would be difficult to keep if tens of thousands of trained soldiers who had fought in several wars at this point suddenly wanted to return back home. Turning them away would not over well either. Most Paladins still had families back in Epa.

But whereas she could intellectualize the debt of resurrection away, she could not do the same for the debt of accidental freedom Arascus’ daughters had given her. Vows that had been for life ended when she had died. She was not going to make the same mistake again. “Thanks Fortia.” Maisara said.

“You know Allasaria will make us swear to her in exchange for aid.”

“Who won’t?”

“Ciria I suppose.” Maisara said.

“I’m vetoing Ciria.” Fortia said coldly and Maisara chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to either.”

The two Goddesses stood side-by-side, looking at the more than hundred thousand men around them. Their campfires and their tents. Maisara’s Paladins were all a perfect copy of each other, each one a perfect triangular shape, they were set up in long rows. Fortia’s Guardians were more varied but there was still nothing out of the ordinary. More than a hundred thousand souls that the pair of Goddesses had responsibility for. Maisara knew where her mind went. She squeezed Fortia’s hand. The Goddess of Peace broke the silence. “Are you going to say it or should I?”

“You mean that there is a side we could join that would fix everything immediately?” Maisara didn’t even want to say Arascus’ name, but there was no point pretending they were discussing anyone but him.

“There is.” Fortia said. “I just have one worry.”

“What?”

“He’s lost before.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep