Shamrock City, Duke's Towers.
This was a location where only the most powerful creatures of Shamrock City could tread. Duke Roshoka had put much thought into constructing the towers, joining them underground to create a lotus-style structure that could not be breached even by other Super Rank creatures of his level, unless something went awry.
.
Right now, at the bottom of the three towers, Duke Roshoka was an hour deep into a heated discussion with his totem clones.
"Twenty five years of hard-work, that's what you're asking me to sacrifice! And there is no guarantee that the attempt will bring us any success! Dream Divination isn't as simple as it sounds!"
"But the likelihood of failure is already too damn high, master. Don't forget that the servants of that parasite have successfully evaded our chase. The news is probably going to be in the hands of their clan by the next twelve hours. Whatever decision you make must happen before the opportunity to act expires."
"I agree. Number 1 is asking you to merely sacrifice twenty-five years of cultivation for a dream divination. Whereas losing the initiative in the upcoming war will cost us everything!"
.
Duke Roshoka's elongated face twisted into an expression of fury and frustration.
"Do you think I don't know what you're planning, my totems? You only want release from this coil of magic binding your body and spirit with me. As long as I am forced to choose one of you to be sacrificed for the divination, he will be freed from my magic; free to merge with the world spirit and be reborn. What a pathetic wish to strive for! Where are your pride and grit as Super Rank creatures? Is death all you crave, now? Ironic for necromancers, isn't it?"
The identical clones of the Duke snarled in tandem. But none of them denied the accusation. Their attempt to push the Duke to that decision was far too transparent, truth be told. They hadn't expected him to be unaware of their intention anyway.
"Nevertheless, I hardly have other options left," Roshoka said, suddenly changing his tone. "I must prove my loyalty to the Emerald Queen when the time comes. The lifetime of preparation I've made to reach the Ultimate Rank would be dashed, otherwise. The coming war is my last opportunity."
"Indeed," the clones echoed him. "Whoever led that parasite to fish out the evidence of manapoisoning from the river is the bigger threat now. Eliminate this party and make amends with the parasite's clan. Things will return to the original track, and the city will have one less pest to be wary of in the future."
The goblin Duke clambered back to his feet and headed for the top of the towers in silence.
.
After his silhouette disappeared past the stone staircase overhead, the three clones exchanged a meaningful look among themselves.
"Who do you think he'll end up choosing?"
"The weakest among us, of course. Roshoka is as greedy as any old goblin. He will sacrifice Sartori, as his necromancy skills fall in the weakest tier among us."
Two heads turned their focus on the third Goblin whose name had come up.
"Sartori, you know the plan. Reincarnation is not the goal. I hope you won't forget that."
The third goblin nodded. "Our wait won't be much longer. The chaos in this realm is spreading. Sooner or later, a crack will form, and we too, must seize the initiative. Let Roshoka be satisfied with his small ambitions. The war he deems so important is nothing but a speck of carnage in the face of the real threat. The world spirit gifted him with Divination, but he has constrained his foresight himself; ironic."
The discussion came to an end, and the three mysterious Goblin totems returned to their respective parts of the conjoined towers. There they would bide time in anticipation of the Duke's return from the apex level of the three towers, hoping that he would choose Sartori to be sacrificed for the spell, and the result of his dream divination would manage to identify the unknown opponent working against the Duke's ambitions.
However, Sartori, who was supposed to be the trump card for getting their freedom back, never reached his cultivation chamber. Instead he took a detour under the staircase and snuck his way to the top of the towers.
The highest point of the three interlinked buildings was a circular hall right in their center. Three diagonal passageways, originating from the three towers, gave this hall the support it needed to stay there.
Sartori entered the hall with a sense of urgency, and Roshoka's motionless form in the center of the chamber greeted his sight. The sun's weak rays barely reached where they stood, draping a somber shadow over them.
"So I was not wrong, master?" Roshoka said. "They really chose you, who they deem to be their compatriot Sartori, as the sacrifice?"
If an outsider were present here, they would be floored by this scene. To even imagine the prideful Duke of Shamrock City acting so subservient to another required some effort. Yet here he was, practically groveling at the feet of one of his own totems. Even more shocking was the secret that there were three totems, not two, unlike what the public knew. And that these three totems were actually the three Necromancers who had attacked Shamrock City twenty-five years ago, whose deaths had been witnessed by countless people.
.
And if the other two totems were present here, they would be even more confused, perhaps even terrified. Because the person they treated as their companion necromancer Sartori was actually the Duke himself in disguise, while the Goblin impersonating the Duke was Sartori, acting as loyal to him as a pet dog.
"It's not that they chose Sartori to be the sacrifice. They assumed that I would be too greedy to sacrifice either of them in fear of losing too much over a small concern," the real Roshoka replied. "They are not wrong to think so. I would indeed choose you, not because you're the weakest among my totems, but because only you would never betray me, Sartori."
Sartori laughed gently. "Then that's settled. I'll take the leap of faith for you, master. I won't reincarnate until I find out the world spirit's secrets."
The air around Roshoka began to ripple, and bright green flames in the shape of unsteady patterns formed amidst the ripples, emitting a heavy, deep pulsation of mana. Sartori saluted him one last time before the airborne patterns rushed toward his body, submerging him into a green sea of fire.
"Somna-Sulfu!"
The initiating incantation for the dream divination spell began to take effect.
A/N: We're 30 chapters into the story and about to reach the first climax! So what do you think of the story so far? Leave your thoughts in a review!