There is no Epic Loot here, Only Puns.

“That was unneeded,” Mharia said quietly as her destroyed arm slowly repaired itself out of the mana in the room; shoulder first, then elbow.

Her voice bounced about the long throne room, the dark red banners with her family’s crest stamped upon them were spaced evenly across the room, the subtle enchantment made the image turn the symbol of the fiery rose to a rotted one. They fluttered at the sound of her voice like a fell wind had moved through them.

The white marble floor had cracks through which Mharia’s mana flowed like veins. They pulsed in time with her voice. The solid-looking marble pillars holding the room apart from its top and bottom seemed to shift, moving to odd and even numbers between glances. They shifted at her voice.

This all led to the throne itself. A once regal set of chairs that had been crudely blurred together into a wicked chair with flowing black tubes and pipes leading out the back, the thing thrumming like a giant beast’s heart.

Mharia gave the room a sour look; she had thought she had been so smart when she first arrived. The idea to remodel her core-domain into her parent’s throne room as some sort of insult and silent attempt to cling to any shred of her family seemed both childish and sad years later.

Now, after all her efforts of building it, she could hardly destroy it and start over. It simply was not possible. Well, it had not been possible since those adventurers had collapsed them all in. Mharia had been angry at that; then after time refused to start marching on...she had been bored.

Especially since she didn’t get to play with the one left behind.

Well, there were a few left behind, but Mharia didn’t want to play with ugly clowns or Kobolds. No, she wanted the hero.

She sighed as she sat on her throne, the thing pulsing once in a deep thrum.

“You were getting hasty in your eagerness,” came a slightly chiding voice from the shadows, all shadows... or was it something under the darkness? Mharia had given the ability a decent examination, but all she could ever figure out was that the voice didn’t travel in the air.

It was more direct than that.

“Perhaps, but choking a princess? Do you have no manners anymore? When we first met, you were the picture of chivalry,” she replied, an expression of agitation on one side of her face. He appeared, casually coming towards her as if a guest of her kingdom.

When he moved, it wasn’t like ordinary people but was almost as if air, physical matter, light, and sound were all moved out of his way. Mharia supposed it was as if he simply chose to be the more potent force.

Or was it because Nephew was an existence that defied anything made of the Two?

“I do apologise, Princess Mharia. My strength has been harder to measure without acceptable targets. I was aiming for a gentle press of the hand and...” he trailed off, flexing his fingers.

Gentle? Mharia was careful not to drop her jaw.

He nearly crushed her throat. Her bones alone had been laced with several rare and resilient flakes of metal from the Demon Smith. That was not even speaking of the magic spells she had...

“You said this would happen, but I didn’t think it would happen this fast or to this degree,” Mharia finally said, neutrally. Nephew shrugged one shoulder, and Mharia could even begin to see the shape and definition of his body.

To think, so long ago when they first met... he had been a simple voice in the darkest of places of her castle.

“Delta has... changed the schedule. Certain things are up in the air now. Just like I can sense her coming for you,” Nephew said suddenly, taking in her entire domain or what was left of it. Delta had been making good progress on it since she broke into her Fortress.

“I have her allies,” Mharia said as she casually tapped the orb on the arm of her throne, containing the soul of the hero and the amazingly altered human infused with Mushrooms and Delta.

“They will not be harmed, I hope,” Nephew said as he peered at the orb, moving across the room in a blink of an eye, looming over Mharia. It wasn’t hard to loom over her, to be fair. She was barely pushing the upper half of four foot.

Nephew was pushing the upper limit of seven.

“Delta’s creation I see the wisdom of keeping. But the hero?” Mharia made a face which made Nephew chuckle with affection.

“Such wisdom you have gained and yet? Still, the same tone when talking about vegetables and things that you don’t care for,” Nephew gently patted her on the head, and Mharia braced herself, only getting slightly pressed down by his gentlest touch.

“Still needs practice,” Nephew admitted as he pulled his hand back before he hurt her.

“I am the dark vessel of Silence and death! I need no vegetables!” Mharia said haughtily. Nephew tilted his head.

“Are you sure you’re over 100 years old?” he asked, amused at her words. Mharia glared at him, which made him sigh.

“Yes, yes... the age subject is off-topic. I don’t see the shame since I am older than you by quite a few hundred years, but I shall keep... silent about the number,” Nephew said, tapping his chin. Mharia visibly grimaced at his poor joke.

Nephew picked up the orb, well able to crush those inside the sphere.

“The boy we shan’t harm. There is an excellent chance that he shares the same curse as my father. To be plucked out of the ether at their whims and expected to entertain, then before long? Cast off when things became too hard to manage,” he said, all amusement was gone from his tone.

“He is their hero. He won’t be cast off before he has done his job,” Mharia pointed out.

“Their likely actions won’t sway my current choice. I don’t want to have to repeat the discussion I had with Felcore,” Nephew said in such a calm tone that Mharia felt her spine stiffen.

The idiot of Ending Light.

Mharia wasn’t exactly proud of being the Silence’s weakest leader, but what she lacked in power, she had in bond with Nephew.

Felcore?

He had suffered quite a few years for his antics with that circus. Nephew had been... displeased? Annoyed?

Would she dare say... angry?

To be fair, Mharia loved commenting on his ‘lovely’ neck scar supposedly from some angry circus act that cut through his ‘supreme’ defences like a hot knife through butter in the occasional meeting Nephew held to check on everyone and promote unity.

“I would never do something as pitiful as kidnapping strangers off the road and igniting a big smoke signal for all adventurers saying ‘come find us where all the mysterious vanishings are happening’. Felcore is an idiot. Why did he even catch your eye?” Mharia asked, not for the first time.

To her surprise, Nephew actually answered the question.

“He is a line to that which is lost. Humans are all father’s children, but since the Sister unleashed the stars and the Brother tempted the Abyss... Their seeds are being lost to the heavens and hells. We cannot afford to simply give up on those lost souls because the Sister unleashed malevolent and manipulative gods on the people as the Brother gleefully set loose demons and monsters. The people deserve more!” Nephew spun, eyes stretched to their widest.

Nephew has always been painfully forward and honest.

It’s why Mharia had been his friend when she had no one else.

“In essence, they went from two enemies to countless threats we have to contend with,” Mharia said before her voice soured.

“And Felcore is your key to the Demon World and the souls taken there,” she sighed, seeing Felcore’s use rise by the second against her own wishes.

“With things in motion, it’s better you know now before you end Felcore or such in annoyance. I was hoping you two would make up in your own time and discuss, but alas... Delta,” Nephew hummed as the floor shook.

“Delta,” Mharia could only agree.

“Do you want me to destroy her creation? It won’t waste much of my energy,” Nephew said, suddenly quiet. Mharia hesitated then shook her head.

“We can’t start using the seed for everything. You told me you needed lots and why... so no. I don’t want you wasting them on me,” she decided briskly, hiding her smile that she wanted to show off.

She would never be so base as to smile at Nephew. She was no peasant!

But she tried really hard to send him the feeling of a smile that made all the banners and floors glow pink and the roses to bloom in life.

“I... don’t want you to die, Mharia,” Nephew said abruptly, almost as if he wasn’t sure what to do with his concern.

“I don’t intend to just lay down and let Big Sister step on me,” Mharia said dryly, standing up and taking the soul trapping orb out of his hands. She slowly put a gloved hand into his own, it had seven fingers so she suspected he was still figuring out a proper form.

He would get it soon, he was getting stronger by the minute.

“If I perish then my own siblings will be free. It might be a relief for some peace of mind,” she reminded. Her mind was quiet but in a way of feeling directly ignored. Her siblings had long learned the best method of driving her mad.

“And if I fall, if Delta takes my soul? I’ll find a way back. If I don’t... remember me? Remember that girl who you found crying in that empty tower one day. I was so loud,” she prompted, making Nephew grip her hand softly.

“That she woke me up from Silence itself. The girl who brought me out of the burning light into gentle darkness. Settled darkness. I will never forget,” he promised and he began to lose physicality.

“In the end... stars burn out, land crumbles, life and death become one unchanging state... and all becomes Silent,” Princess Mharia swore as her throne began to beat like a malefic heart.

“And silence becomes you,” Nephew finished, fading away, his fingers the last to go entwined with hers.

She inhaled once, allowing air to fill her lungs uselessly. She cast her sense forward at the awe-inspiring nightmare that Delta had created. The thing brushed the ceilings in the corridors and rooms, able to condense itself like a mass of flesh with no bones. Her undead that got closer were either smashed, crushed, or devoured in a way that would even cost Mharia some more energy than usual to repair.

She waved a hand and the Heart Throne beat louder and louder, production of her army becoming the most potent it had been since the entombment of the cult.

Around her, the skeleton dragon began to shape itself from the sound and mana.

Mharia wouldn’t want to let down Delta. She would match her monstrosity with one of her own.

It was weirdly the most alive Mharia had felt since the fall of her home. The idea she might actually die invoking something in her.

‘You’re so weird.’

‘I hope you fall down the stairs.’

Her brother and sister spoke up, clearly sensing the change.

“Don’t worry. One way or another? Today we are free... today, the rose of our family will bloom one last time,” she promised, getting a sense she was scaring her siblings with her words. It was more of a reaction from them than she had in a long time.

Mharia watched through her creations, examining the mound of flesh that Delta has spewed out at her in rage. It was inelegant, cobbled together more with sheer power than skill, but what it lacked in finesse it made up with purpose.

It was a killing machine-pure and simple.

It would come here, battle with Mharia, and only one of them would walk out if neither of them backed down. Mharia inhaled again, her throne now reaching a rhythmic pulse that was causing everything in her remaining castle to vibrate. The skeleton warriors that were getting smashed to pieces by the fleshbeast were now being merely flung aside to rise and charge again. Her own zombies were repairing themselves at truly amazing speeds, and the various other toys she has gathered over the years had similar improvements.

Delta would still reach the throne room, but it was more likely to be in a measured pace than in seconds as before. That was fine, Mharia knew she'd only be buying time for herself to flex her talents.

It was a bit of an issue that she couldn’t kill the warrior’s soul on her throne; that stopped Mharia from doing some real nasty things indiscriminately... but that was also fine. Simply leveling the battlefield with death spells was a bit uncreative for someone that had been in the game as long as Mharia.

She raised a gloved hand and asserted her will, deciding to see what stuck and what didn’t.

Much like Delta; Mharia didn’t consider the concept of ‘distance’ to be a limiting factor in any space within her own domain.

Dark energy flowed up her arm as the massive Heart beat behind her, each sullen beat empowering Mharia’s magic. The hulking beast was moving through the long hallway that led to her grand entrance to her home. Perhaps it was strange to have a mansion within a fortress, as if one were looping through different themes in madness... but what was the Fortress and what was Mharia’s private sanctum were entirely different things.

She struck out, parts of the beast turning black and falling away as pure death energy scoured the surface, but it was akin to ripping hair out of another girl in anger; tiny strands that did little other than to annoy the foe.

The damage she did was made pointless as the dozen of tiny little pig-creatures merely shook their mushroom tops, spreading spores that caused replacement flesh to grow back in pure numbers.

Those spider-leg limbs began to spear her warriors, aiming for spines and skulls rather than outright damage. Mharia curled her fingers and from three of her skeleton warriors, black fire bleached out of their clattering jaws, dancing across the beast’s lower layers. The thing reared back, flesh blackened and Mharia almost felt let down if this attack would end it so soon, but to her delight, the flesh began to shift, the squishy flesh turning shiny and hard. The spider legs moved to the bottom of the creature, giving it more mobility; a second later, the creature began to make it... snow?

No, it was raining down web-balls covered in fluffy spores. This would normally mean nothing to her magic of soul-burn, but this was Dungeon-Made. The mana inside the material began to conflict with the necromantic magic.

If Mharia was there in person, casting? It would be a lot harder to simply snuff out the fire, but as it was, the beast had not only turned its soft burnable flesh into harder spider-carapace, but also devised an anti-fire measure on the fly.

Mharia couldn’t help the respect she felt surge through her.

So, when she cast her next spell, she hoped Delta would appreciate the masterwork of Mharia was about to do.

Her Heart Throne was now beating so hard it was in constant hum.

It would be just like what Mharia’s heart would feel like if she still had it.

---

Delta saw her hands flickering. Her fingers were more a distorted blur than the detailed shape from before. Despite her claims, the critter colossus she had made was not without a cost. She stood with a wobble as notifications fired off all around her in a chaotic manner.

‘Critter limit reached... doubling production from first and second floor... Critter Limit reached... doubling production from Secret Garden… Critter Limit reached...’

‘Critter and Boss monster fusion requires upkeep of... error. Incompatible. Creature under current rules cannot... does... exist. Scanning...’

‘Mana income... -20 an hour. -21 an hour. Continuous mana sent to ‘Symphony of Nightmares’ for supply.’

Delta wiped her mouth where she imagined she had been drooling. She felt dumb, as if her mind had turned to cotton. She had never expanded this much of a Mana sink before other than creating new floors.

Her creature not only needed Mana to keep using its abilities and remain in her control, it also needed pure mana to remain ‘stable’. Even in Dungeon space, there were some things that just didn’t work without some of her ‘reality-blurring’ mana and DP.

This was made even worse since she was making it work outside her Dungeon to wage war. Hero was easier cause the System had a nice little space for his type to function- long recharge, big payoff.

“We did have 24 hours. We could have planned more strategically to prevent you literally bleeding yourself dry,” Nu said, his boyish form back into his screen form, but he had learned to project his voice now.

“That sounds sane and reasonable, Nu,” she pointed out, managing to stand to her full height without wobbling.

“Of course. Not your style,” Nu replied dryly.

A moment later, Jack returned, throwing what stuff he could loot from behind Symphony’s trial of destruction into her Dungeon. Every little piece helped get her some Mana back. All, if not most, were things she already had, material wise.

No, what was interesting was the contents of said items. Some paintings, some banners, and then Jack started bringing her other things.

A semi-large picture of a regal man with a tamed gray beard, a woman with a poised and elegant face; demure, but with eyes of steel. Below them, lined in order like royal ducklings were three children. A boy with his father’s nose, a girl with a bored expression, and the youngest of them all...

Marrow.

Marrow’s face was pale, whole, and slightly younger than the one Delta had met. In Marrow’s eyes, the painter had captured a palpable sadness.

The painting had a simple plaque.

‘The royal family of Turtog’

“Got more where that’s concerned,” Jack announced, holding up books and paintings he held in his clawed hands. “Your big beastie knocked down a sealed wall and this was all inside,” he explained, throwing more down.

“Thank’s Jack... how are you doing?” Delta asked, hiding the fact that one of her hands now had its fingers on backwards as her Core struggled to keep this whole operation going. Jack thought about it, his bottles clinking as he crossed his arms.

“I feel... good. Revenge and all that. I think afterwards I’ll have a crisis of purpose and identity, but until then, I’m going to have a jolly good time with some arson,” he declared firmly. Delta could understand that somewhat.

Jack had been down here for years trying to do what Delta was finally getting done.

Delta just hoped he didn’t throw himself into any more cauldrons in the meantime.

She paused as the items began to become absorbed, mostly old trinkets and dresses long turned to aged tatters... but among them was things Delta didn’t know what to make of.

She focused on something she absorbed and it came up.

“The history of Turtog: The Kingdom that was invaded by death.” Nu murmured as he read over her shoulder. All, if not most, pages had been scrawled furiously in red ink by a trembling hand, repeating the words ‘lies’ over and over.

Delta grimaced as she looked up from the book as she sensed Mharia do something.

If it was more death, Delta could just repair the damage or if it was a big enemy, she trusted Maestro to use his various ability to win-

A white light screamed down the hall impacting her Symphony hard in the chest. Delta stared in confusion as nothing happened at first, in fact, Delta even thought she got a nice little influx of mana from the attack.

Then her creature began to bubble as the Piggles in the pile began to grow in panic. The spider legs crunched as the bent to make room for more joints, Maestro’s left arm grew large, causing him to become lopsided as his neck and head followed suit.

Mharia had just cast some sort of life spell. How could she do that?! Her creature started to bloat as the spell encouraged rapid and almost uncontrollable ‘beneficial’ mana growths. Delta clenched her hands and focused.

She was already bleeding Mana, but she had no choice but to spend precious DP on turning the spell into something she could manipulate. The growths turned into acid spitter bulges, brimming with acid as the grow turned into lively acid.

Delta just managed that when Mharia began to weave complex life spells again, causing the spider legs to spasm, their armoured limbs exploding in green lush vegetation that vines into the walls, pinning her beast for a moment.

Right, if Mharia was so good at death... no reason she wouldn’t be a hand at its partner, life.

“I’m usually all for fans, but being clingy isn’t attractive,” she felt Maestro declared before mushrooms formed at the base of the vines, sucking moisture from them, decaying them as fast as they grew into brittle yellow things that snapped when her Symphony moved on.

Delta grinned, knowing her monsters were capable of beating Marrow into next Tuesday. She inhaled, trying to make sure she kept everything stable until they could rescue Alpha and Hero. To distract herself, she looked at the books as Mharia seemed to go quiet for a moment as well, letting her monsters do the fighting for now.

“Turtog... kingdom of death by J.Japes,” she read, trying to use the words as a means to center herself.

‘Introduction. I write this book in dedication to the simple art of knowledge and wisdom. This book will show why, if not outright demand that, we cannot simply have faith and tradition. Death by inaction or destruction by stagnation is a sad way to go and none show this more than the Kingdom of Turtog. A kingdom who prayed for a bright future, but was delivered ruin.

Only by the action of the last of the Royal Family was the end of the world contained.

I will explore the ruins of this doomed kingdom and see if I can piece together what happened. Why did this kingdom fall? How did Princess Mharia escape the fate of her kingdom and purge it?

The questions are many and the answers are few.

Let us begin.’