And so it came to pass that my Liege Lord and his peers attempted for the third time to defeat the quartet of foes that must be slain in tandem. There had been much hardship on this noble quest, and verily, one did not have to look far to behold the gnashing of teeth and the weeping of tears of sorrow. Cooperation of intent did not equate to true teamwork, and though they aspired to complete their sacred task, the competition of personalities created a house divided when it came to their efforts seeing fruition.

  Far be it from this humble servant’s mind to judge their efforts. The ways of Emperors are beyond the ken of us mere mortals. It is my place and greatest honor to obey the commands of my Liege Lord, and he did bade me to protect my fellow beast who, through the grace of our Liege Lord, has also shared in the privilege of being uplifted from a primitive state. The Symposium is my charge, and the many heads have thankfully ceased their eternal song that has forced their kin to heed the old accords. I stand upon one of their heads to protect them from threats from above, while my lovely better self lurks in the mist below to strike low any who would dare approach with hostile intent.

  Perhaps only half the kin of The Symposium are in attendance for this great battle and our finest hour. They know well the taste of men, predigested though it may be by the one with red scales. They hunger now for these manifestations of the primitive elements, not to provide succor for their famished bellies, but to learn the mysteries of the elements. While they cannot take the elemental cores with them when they depart from this realm, they can and will retain the knowledge that such insights provided. If one harkens it to reading a book in a library that forbids taking said books from the grounds, such that the mind may serve as a worthy vessel to abscond with the knowledge contained within such sacred texts, then one would understand the goal of these hungry ones.

  I myself have partaken of all the elements, for the cores of the fallen likewise provide me with insight. I find that these fire elementals suit me best, and indeed they offer the lion’s share of what I partake in, but a certain balance, if lopsided, must be maintained. It is said that no thing in existence is truly alone, and so no element exists without harmony with the others. There would be no merit in mastering fire if not to also gain the wisdom in how it interacts with the other elements.

  The bounty of quantity is without end, although I would find comfort in a better variety. These creatures of the elements are capable of representing more than just the primitive four, yet this great battle has yet to offer up anything more complex. I have heard the whisperings among man and beast alike, that there exists a final reward based on merit and contribution. I know not what could be bequeathed unto me when yon foes perish, and such tantalizing and uncertain prospects of booty need not be dangled in front of me like a carrot for me to stay true to my purpose. However, as I have been ever loyal and faithful, should the universe see fit to grant me a boon, I would not decline such hospitality.

  Even if such should be mine to have, I must yet live to see it. Foes abound in many forms, for often do those that appropriate the visage of our allies try to deceive us, all so they may close the distance to our turned backs with their daggers in hand. Why, even now, there goes that Starweaver lady. Clearly, it is another imposter, for it is known that she does not have a bloody stump in place of her left forearm.

  Or… that could be a recent development.

  Given her elven heritage, she certainly falls with style, the whole time blasting spells at those that pursue her. Undoubtedly, at least one party is composed of imposters. It matters little, for such a fall from the high road will bring about the demise of all equally when the finality of the ground arrests their rapid descent. Although, given her prestige and prowess, she may have the aptitude in ability or physical durability to merely be inconvenienced by such concerns.

  I found it quite shocking how, as I defeated my thousandth foe of air for today, that the Starweaver lady did not impact the ground so decisively. As true as I am to my Liege Lord, know that I speak true unto you now. One dinosaur skeleton, the kind with the three big horns on its shield-like skull, flew through to the air to intercept her, not under the power of its own means, but due to a particularly brutal backhand from an earth elemental. Its body twisted and careened in the air, and through such impossible geometry, it aligned such that the Starweaver alighted gracefully within its ribcage.

  Then the heavens, so outraged by the upstart dinosaur skeleton, did enforce the accords placed upon all things, such that a body that goes up must come down. And yea I say unto thee, so as the skeleton descended, so too did a hydra rear a neck in such a way as to intercept it, and, much like a child upon a slide at a playground, so too did the skeleton arrest its descent such that it avoided destruction. It did have to scramble quickly to avoid the hydra’s wrath at being used so forcefully unbeknownst to it beforehand, but the beast soon ceased communicating its irritation via the snapping of its jaws in favor of returning to battle the fire elemental before it.

  Yet peril was not so easily avoided, for clemency from our foes remained an exhausted resource. Isolated from its escort, the skeleton sought refuge in the mist created by my own beloved. My duty is to protect The Symposium, and so the skeleton and the Starweaver lady must fend for themselves and hope that Ribbette may offer sanctuary or aid in my stead.

  Most people are dumb as shit, but these earth elementals prove how someone being dumber than a box of rocks is possible. Tough bastards, and rather immune to poison to boot, but I am not so easily bested. If one can draw blood from a stone, then one can poison it, too, given enough time. Down here in my mist, they cannot see me, not that seeing me gives them much of an advantage to begin with. Their reaction time is laughably bad, and their tactics seldom go beyond trying to smash me where I am. These lardasses don’t even know enough to aim at where I am going to be, not that they possess the wherewithal to make such a prediction.

  Not that I would ever remain predictable in my movements. [In Their Mist] allows me to not just see perfectly through my own mist and fog, but to intuitively know where everything is within it, even if I am not looking. When I combine it with [Mist Opportunity], an Ability that borders on precognition, I have keen insights in knowing precisely when and where to be within my mist to avoid an attack or to launch one of my own. Training with Nanu and friends sure has paid off, especially that Nabonidus fellow. He could eat grubs off my lily pad any day if he can keep hooking me up with fancy Abilities like this.

  Back to the action, I was halfway through figuring out how to poison this earth elemental when I saw a freaking triceratops get swatted! The thing went flying head over tail through the air. Not only that, it intercepted Erethel Starweaver who was halfway to faceplanting on the ground. After a pretty sick slide down a hydra’s neck, the triceratops wandered over into my fog.

  Now, I am not in the business of babysitting anything other than The Boys here, since that is what I was told to do. However, in like the hundred or so meetings that I have had to watch over, she was one of the few who ever chose to interact with me, and even then, she gave me a golden grub. Now, it may have been a calculated move on her part to help ingratiate herself with my boss, but I’ll be damned if it didn’t work on me. For the next short while, she can be my ride or die. Golden grubs are as delicious as they are rare, and, if saving her even gives me a chance at another one, then it would be well worth the effort.

  At the very least, she is no longer being pursued. As it turns out, flying triceratops are pretty rare, skeletal or otherwise, and so her pursuers did indeed faceplant on the ground like a bunch of dumbasses. None survived the landing or the hungry hydras nearby, and so that is one less thing to worry about. However, my fog is only so big, and it only goes so high, and there isn’t a lot of cover around here other than the legs of The Boys. If I can just give her a chance to breathe and get her bearings, she should be able to find her own way out of this mess.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Deftly, I hop on over to check in on her. The triceratops skeleton, or whoever is piloting it, does not seem to be completely blinded by the mist, which stands to reason considering it has no eyes. I offer a croak of greeting, but neither one is apparently capable of beast-speak, so I will have to pantomime my intent.

  Erethel is a tough old bird. She has already cauterized her stump of a left hand. It would be a rookie mistake to drink a healing potion when it won’t grow back a limb, considering it would quickly build up healing saturation. She isn’t out of the proverbial woods yet, and so she is planning for the long haul.

  “Erethel Starweaver! Thank the gods I found you in time! Follow me and I can escort you to safety.”

  Five of my poisoned needles soon embedded themselves in her would-be savior. No one stands between me and more golden grubs. Also, I don’t know who that is, but he somehow approached me in my mist without me knowing about him, which makes him dangerous.

  To my surprise and delight, and only with the smallest of delays, Erethel Starweaver also blasted the guy with some kind of starbeam right in his neck and right shoulder, which completely obliterated that part of his body. It seems that she and I are of like minds, so we should get along swimmingly. It is high time we hightailed it out of here, so I bid my lovable Hopper adieu as I follow the instructions of the mind-voice that is Nabonidus, the Bestower of Free Skills.

  Long, long ago in my youth, I had visited a [Fortune Teller] of some repute. She had foretold many things, none of which had come to pass in all these years, at least not in and of their own right. It had not been deterministic, but rather through my own actions that I chose to abide by what fortune had been predicted. As absurd as it may seem, I see the wisdom in her words now. I may need to seek the services of a discreet [Memorist] to dredge up the parts of her words that had been forgotten to time as mere nonsense, for some parts had been so ridiculous as to have become core memories.

  “I see you being nearly hit by a dinosaur skeleton as you fall from grace. Be sure to hitch a ride, dearie.”

  “I see an Emperor with pet frogs. Be sure to feed them the best grubs you can find. If he ever offers you a chance to go looking for snails, accept without hesitation.”

  “In your final moments, make sure the frog lives. It will mean more than you realize.”

  I am not looking forward to that last premonition, ominous as it certainly is, but I will try to face it with grace. To that end, I will try to survive this predicament and strive to avoid any frogs in the future, not that intentionally avoiding peculiar and particular circumstances surrounding one’s demise has ever worked in the stories.

  I could perhaps settle for not heading deeper into the center of the arena, but the tide of the enemy is thick around us and the only gaps in our ranks lead that way. No one comes to our aid, not that I could trust most people. A whole room of friends and allies I had worked closely with for years had betrayed me in a single moment. I know not if it had been the work of The Devourers or this dungeon’s unique mechanics for the raid, but the emotional blow of it still stings. I killed so many of them on my flight from that room, and I can only pray that they had always been imposters and that I will see the real version of them after I leave this place. If only I were still naive enough to believe such pleasant possibilities.

  The lady frog, Ribbette, if memory serves, croaks towards me from where she sits on the back of our ride. She gesticulates wildly, her arms stretching high and wide above her head, then her hands form a circle in front of her hips as she thrusts rhythmically towards it. Comically, she goes cross-eyed as she hits herself in the head lightly with her fist, and then she points in a direction. I turn in the direction she points, and I see a rather large earth elemental stumbling about perilously close to falling on us.

  Big fucking elemental ahead.

  It makes sense now, but that particular adjective was superfluous and time consuming. Spot on though, I will give her that!

  I weave spells in tandem to give our ride more speed while also blasting the earth elemental as hard as I can to push it off course so that its fallen body will neither obstruct nor crush us. We clear the gap with room to spare, although the tip of our ride’s tail may disagree.

  Soon we are surrounded by elementals of fire and water, and we bravely make our last stand as we fend them off. Ribbette seems to be performing well against the water elementals with the needles she flings forth from her oversized sleeves, so I focus on the fire elementals. For every one we cut down, two more appear, and we soon find ourselves hemmed in on all sides. Perhaps… Perhaps now is the time to save the frog. I know not what good it will do, but I start weaving a powerful spell to save her as I push my [Multicast] Ability to its limits.

  But then, the elementals all disappear just as I am thrown from the crushed remnants of the ribcage of our trusty steed. I hear it now, the dungeon voice, as it announces that Phase 4 has begun. Naturally, I land on my feet after as any true elf should.

  Half a step away, a new elemental appears, one made of all four elements. It embodies the summation of all we have fought, and it turns its attention to me as it points at me with uncanny intelligence.

  “Die, ins-”

  I stomp it with my boot, repeatedly, for it is no taller than my finger is long. I have little mana to spare in case this beatdown precipitates future calamity. However, I need not have worried, for with the defeat of this foe, the dungeon voice announces that the raid has been completed.

  I remain on guard, for my enemies abound, and they must certainly lurk within the ranks of my ‘allies’. While I wait for what happens next, I return to our dinosaur steed, which, surprisingly, is still moving, even with half of its bones broken. There I share more of the rarest grubs with the frog, and she eagerly and greedily devours those insects that I had spent a small fortune for.

  However, in this moment of triumph, it was all worth it. She had fought valiantly by my side to save my life, and so the debt of my gratitude finds itself easily repaid.

  The arena roars with the cheering of a million voices, or at least the better part of those who survived. We won, this time, but would we stand united here a thousand years from now? I doubt I will live to see it, and so, I must entrust this sacred duty to the next generation.

  Everyone gets their loot in the form of a temporary bag with dimensional storage. I can tell that they will only last three days before they expire and that the contents are remove-only. The dungeon told us as much, but it never hurts to confirm it.

  “I’m sure it isn’t the worst prize anyone here has gotten,” Skull states as diplomatically as she can while she tries her best to withhold her laughter and commiserating sorrow at my plight. “It is decently well drawn, even if it is cartoonish.”

  All I have to show for my efforts is a picture of a certain egg creature on a white piece of paper, with the words, “Come see me! Bring Skull!” written upon it. I will need to meditate in private to enter that place. I assume that Skull will inevitably follow, for we have become rather inseparable. I don’t think she has ever been more than a mile or two away ever since that day that Gulthar took me to task about almost getting her killed.

  “Maybe you could get it framed and-”

  Her voice trails off as my prize bursts into flame. In moments, ashes upon the wind are all that remain, but I still remember exactly what I must do.

  Surreptitiously, I cast my gaze through a number of mediums at my peers, the other Emperors. Though I have no proof as to their prizes, for all of them used every form of obfuscation they could to provide privacy as they peeked at their own booty, by the looks on their faces, I assume they have similar rewards to my own.

  People start to wander out, as none of us are in the mood to give a big speech. Too many of us want to help our wounded comrades or indulge in our prizes and celebrations. I leave it to my small army of kobolds and underlings to round up anyone I brought with me who isn’t a VIP and depart. As if by collective agreement, the other Emperors do the same with only scant words of politeness shared between us as we go.

  My companions, children, pets, and so forth form a gaggle around me, and though we are tired, they each are animated and enthusiastic as they share their version of events with everyone else.

  “-until today, I had never fucked someone back from death’s door, but I -”

  And some of us do nothing to filter or politely embellish events. Not that I would want Chooka to ever change. And it is good that she enjoys her Dual-Blessing as a [Healer] of sorts, even if it must be employed in unique ways. In truth, her words lifted my spirits, as did everyone else’s, and so the sting of the lack of immediate gratification for my reward was lessened.