The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 292 - An Ancient’s Unshaken Pragmatism: Choosing The Many Over The Few

Chapter 292: Chapter 292 - An Ancient’s Unshaken Pragmatism: Choosing The Many Over The Few

The play continued as the narrator spoke, ’messengers’ rushing onto the stage one after another and pantomiming their exhaustion for the crowd to see.

"Reports arrived daily of the advancing Voidling forces. Ten thousand strong, with more gathering behind them. Three small fortifications had already fallen in their path... their defenders slaughtered to the last."

Fabric panels were rotated to allow the mirror-covered narrator to enter the ’war council’. That actor voiced a soliloquy as she stepped up to become part of the scene. Her flashy outfit glinted in the lantern light, making her seem like the most eye-catching part of the scene.

"I came before them with the gift of foresight. Through my spiritual divination, I could perceive the true intent of the Voidling horde. With that..."

The actress playing Sere flowed to the center, her body movements flowing in a mysterious dance. She raised her hands and clever stagecraft dropped swirls of fabric that billowed around her as the lighting focused on her figure ’flickered’. The Clairvoyant announced her findings at the same time to the gathered council.

"Their true target is not the coastal cities as we believed. They seek the sacred confluence beyond the pass. With it, they could establish-"

The lights abruptly began to flash crimson as stagehands waved panels of red glass. The musicians in the wings struck discordant sounds while the actress clutched her head in apparent agony. Her body convulsed as the stage darkened almost entirely.

"Another path... there is another way. We can save all-"

She fell silent in the dark, the light blazing back to her crumpled body on the stage floor. Attendants rushed to her side as the council moved in panic. All seemed moved by her plight. All but the Acid Tongued Villain.

Elua er Goltbred reflected silently on the showing. She’d read the script, but still couldn’t help her mind from making comparisons to the real memory.

’The backlash was worse than they think... or want to show. Blood poured from Serenthya’s eyes and ears as the Voidling’s Hivemind detected the spiritual intrusion. Well, the lack of concern is right. I told her not to do it.’

The gray-clad narrator stepped forward and every actor froze in their positions. Lights dimmed as the neutral voice posed his questions to the audience.

"What value is there in an unfinished vision? What weight can be carried by a promise of salvation without delivery of method? And what commander can afford to wait for their advisor’s counsel when the enemy advances?"

The stage brightened again as the actress playing the Villainess loomed over the fallen Clairvoyant. The spectators held their breath as the woman regarded the other cultivator with cold calculation. The same sort of look and math that Elua would do all over again, even knowing the result.

’*Especially* knowing. I didn’t lose access to a functioning advisor. Just a single critically injured cultivator that had been incapable of following orders.’

Probing a network of minds more alien than any she’d tried was something anyone back then would identify as foolish. To the reincarnator, the incomplete information the other spiritualist provided was almost useless. Tens of thousands of lives hung in the balance.

"We cannot wait for her to recover. The sacred site must be protected at all costs."

When the actress spoke, her voice was not *quite* monotone... but carried no great emotion. This particular detail made Yatrel er Goltbred’s face scrunch up. She glanced over at her daughter, still being cuddled by young Qatrand.

’I seem to remember that this character is usually portrayed as more haughty and gleefully cruel. That is the traditional way. Now she seems to be acting almost like...’

An arm was over the shoulder of the heiress, pressing the brunette to the blonde boy’s side. It was *almost* strange to see the Yecine being the more affectionate one this evening... as her eldest just sat there. Accepting it without fawning back, with mint eyes locked on the play.

A horn sounded and up on the stage, the Villainess turned to her advisors with a flourish of her green robes.

"Prepare to abandon the outer fortifications. Our main force will withdraw to defend the confluence directly."

A more elaborately dressed actor that represented a senior commander of the fort stepped forward in protest.

"But that would sacrifice our duty to thousands living near the pass! There must be another way. Yes, perhaps what Sere just tried to tell us!"

This scripted line was one Elua had the most trouble ignoring. No one had worried about the mortals beforehand enough to try and countermand her orders. The only duty they felt was to fight together against the invasion to not die *themself*.

Nor did any of the council actually show any concern for the foolish Clairvoyant.

"There is no time to wait. One-third of our forces will remain as rearguards. They will buy us three days to establish better defenses at the sacred site. Only then should they attempt a retreat to join us."

The stage was darkened except for fabric panels depicting sun and moon that were spun on a mechanism above the mountain painting. It was meant to create a sense of passing time. When light returned to the main area, the scene had shifted to a desperate battle.

A dozen actors representing the rearguard forces fought against black draped figures meant to be Voidlings. The main narrator’s voice clad in similar colored garb grew solemn.

"For three days, they held their position valiantly. They knew they had been left behind, but for three days... they died so others might live."

Ondua and many others watched the microcosm of a battle scene with grim recognition. His own memories of combat against Voidlings lent weight to what the speaker voiced. The sort of attrition that could only be endured.

Only overturned by finding and dealing with the leader-class enemies. A task which tended to get you named a hero, ignoring the arguably greater efforts of those stuck defending the forts.

As so many veterans in the crowd multiplied the scale of conflict using their own memory, the glowing representation of the sacred site was wheeled to the center. Barricades were placed by busy actors while the Villainess stood protected at the center, directing her defenders.

"While at the location, new defenses were established. When the Voidlings finally broke through the pass and moved on their goal... they found well prepared resistance that did not break or scatter."

The mirror covered cultivator rose from the corner of the stage, as if recovering from her collapse. She looked between the actors ’fallen’ on the ground and the Villainess standing behind the sacred site before an exaggerated falling of her shoulders.

"When I awoke, it was already too late. The pass had fallen. Thousands of lives were lost - abandoned by one who refused to heed my vision."

A group of three meant to be survivors from the rearguard arrived ahead of her at the new location. They pointed and demanded of their commanders in one voice.

"Why? Why were we abandoned?"

"There was another way. I saw it. I told you! All of them could have been saved if she had only waited. If only she had listened!"

The woman named ’Sere’ joined in the pointing and insisted while standing behind them. Lanterns were covered completely for a short period before illuminating the mid-act scene.

The Villainess stood alone on stage, but surrounded by a mass of fluttering pieces of white fabric blown by a wind from underneath the stage. A ritual implemented by the sigilist responsible for hiring the troupe. Each strip of cloth was meant to represent the deaths that surrounded her choice.

In the viewing area, Qat’s hand found her wife’s and began to squeeze gently. The gesture was meant for quiet support - both for the smaller girl and for the ’older’ teen herself.

’She still seems fine, but I’m getting a little irritated in her stead.’

The illusionist was rather enjoying that feeling from the swordswoman as it trembled in the fragment. Having someone get upset for your sake was adorable!

Even though she hadn’t exactly requested any significant changes to the script to make her ’old self’ represented more favorably, her precious gem seemed to be viewing it all that way regardless. The Yecine had especially spiked with anger when the fingers were being pointed at ’her’.

The three narrators stepped forward together to deliver the intermission lines.

"The sacred site remained uncorrupted at this point in history."

"But at what cost?"

After the historical and emotionally involved comments, the neutral narrator raised a hand as he turned to face the audience directly. The troupe leader had been told to take it easy with his delivery, not wanting him to lean towards overvaluing the one individual the Goltbred had requested any changes to in the play.

"If you stood where she stood with thousands of lives hanging in the balance - what would you choose? Which lives would you value more? Who would you sacrifice? Or would you wait for the answer to save everyone, even if it risks it all?"

The questions hung in the uneasy silence. Many shifted uncomfortably in the crowd, unable or unwilling to voice an answer to the hypotheticals proposed. Unexpected by many, it was Corde hez Iralev that decided not to leave things be. The Frozen Duskblade’s voice cut out through the silence with the same authority she had used to emcee during the competition.

"Preventing a fortified invasion point was the right call. We should all know this. I’ve made similar choices myself during the last Descent."

The eyes of all that had been watching turned to the Goltbred viewing area. To the famed swordswoman and the people she chose to watch this bit of theatre with. The Goltbreds and - more importantly to a certain brunette - the Yecine who would be the woman’s disciple after the Descent.

’As I thought. Her distrust in me is annoying, but she will be a very valuable piece for polishing my fortress after the war.’

The reincarnator hoped she survived her fourth campaign as well - it would be a let down if she endured all the probes to her true nature only to have it all come to nothing.