Chapter 358: The New Bastion of Existence
Ten hours had flown by for these beings, feeling like only a few seconds.
They had spent the ti learning the specifics of each woman’s strengths. Since becoming Unus, each woman had begun to embody more than just their Goddess Star or Constellation.
For instance, Rune, already the Goddess of Runes, chose to embrace that identity even further—so much so that her true form was, quite literally, a Rune.
One was completely incomprehensible, while others, like Madison, chose instincts; Seraphiel chose creation; Aeloris chose health; and Katherine, like Rune, chose sothing tied to her very existence—kinship.
The rest varied, and while it may seem redundant, each of these won embodied an aspect far deeper than their simple titles implied.
Take Rune, for example—her humanoid form was rely a disguise. This was true for all of them, and the depth of their prowess could never be fully understood at face value.
And now the six of them floated in the skies above the plaza along with Morgana with the now thousands of Unus below them all waiting for Ash himself.
Sylvie drifted closest to the center, arms folded loosely beneath her chest, white-green hair flowing even without a breeze.
She tilted her head; green eyes narrowed thoughtfully at the distant point where the briefing was being held.
"So..." she drawled, voice low and teasing, "anyone want to guess what my Master is painting this ti?"
Madison hovering upside-down with her arms crossed behind her head.
"Who knows... the last ti he drew a painting and I was around, I sohow ended up as his Mate and now Wife."
Seraphiel floated on her side—black-red hair drifting like flas.
"Going based on his speech," she murmured. "It should be sothing that improves this Bastion, no?"
Aeloris drifted closer to Seraphiel, one gentle hand resting on the other woman’s shoulder as she leaned.
"Right," she said softly. "And with this new Anchor Talent, I’m sure it won’t be too dificult.."
Morgana drifted a little apart—bronze skin catching the faint orange light from below. She watched the conversation with quiet amusent, arms crossed beneath her breasts.
"You speak as though his art is alive or sothing," she said.
All six won turned to look at her.
Morgana’s dark crimson eyes glead.
"I an... I know art can be powerful depending on who’s painting it. But he just doesn’t give ... artist vibes?"
Silence fell over the group.
Then Sylvie laughed—soft, delighted.
"Gods, I thought you had a decent head on your shoulders, Morgana."
Madison grinned—sharp, feral.
"Didn’t you hear him? Don’t judge a book by its cover."
Ash reappeared directly behind them all — silent, sudden, like he’d always been there.
"I agree, my Goddess of Beast~"
The words were low, amused, carrying that familiar edge that made spines tingle.
Seven heads whipped around at once.
Sylvie launched first — she barreled into his chest, arms wrapping around his neck, legs hooking around his waist in mid-air.
She kissed him hard — tongue sliding against his before she pulled back just enough to nip his lower lip.
And like always the others approached one after another. It truly didn’t matter if Ash stepped away for a single hour, they would always welco him back with warmth.
When they finally pulled back—breathless, flushed, eyes sparkling—Ash gave a low chuckle.
"I was only gone for ten hours, you know?"
Sylvie smirked. "Who cares, Master? Even if you were gone for a second, we’d still shower you with love."
Katherine smiled and nodded. "Next ti, I’ll be painting right there with you."
And she ant it. Art was one of the many small things she embodied. She didn’t truly care for it, but if Ash did... then so would she. Simple math, really.
Ash shook his head, as he glanced down at the plaza below — thousands of Unus still standing in perfect silence.
Then he looked back at his wives — and Morgana.
"Well," he said. "It’s ti we retrieve your main body."
Hearing this, she smiled and said, "I don’t know if I’ll ever truly understand you all... but thank y—"
"Oh, save it," Madison interrupted. "He hates that kind of thing. Just keep being the sa old woman you are."
He raised one hand — palm up.
A projection flickered to life above the entire Bastion — and on it... was the millions upon millions of Eldritch that were gathering at the boundary of the Inversions.
[A/N: Rember that this place is inverted, so the tunneled sky is actually coming up from the ground. I also dropped images of these Eldritch inside of the Discord. So, that should help with visualization.]
"The first priority is clearing these Eldritch out from this Inversion."
The projection zood in, red lines marking the forward camps of the two Eldritch clans: the Reapers and the Curators.
"They’re waiting for the descent of those from the Second Inversion, at which point they plan to conquer the First Inversion completely, eliminating any chance of reinforcents ever appearing again."
He looked at each of them in turn.
"We have fifteen minutes before all hell breaks loose. The first Inversion will be a lesson for all those below... as we make the entire first Inversion a bubble of existence."
He closed his hand. The projection vanished.
Aeloris’s green eyes glimred faintly.
"And after that?"
Ash’s smile was small—dangerous, excited.
"After that... we head down through the Inversions with The Unus. We save Morgana while backing up the other Bastions. But our real target lies on the tenth Inversion."
"What’s so important about that inversion? This isn’t the first ti you’ve brought it up," Rune asked.
"The tenth Inversion holds the spawner of the Reapers and Curators. I don’t know much else, since I’ve never been there myself. But while using a talent to search for sothing, I stumbled across that." He spoke
"A spawner? Why does that sound like..."
"Like sothing that spawns them?" Ash finished for Sylvie.
"Because it is. These Eldritch won’t die unless you destroy the spawner. Only then can you truly end them. But even then, they’ll always co back as long as there’s nonexistence within their respective inversions."
[A/N: If you’ve played Minecraft... just picture a zombie spawner.]
Hearing this all the won nodded as the prepared themselves ntally for battle, Morgana however continued to eye Ash.
"So, what did you paint?" She asked him.
"Oh, right." Ash said scratching the back of his head, "And it BECOS!"
HUMMMMMM!!!!!!!
As he said those words the entire Bastion began to change.
The cracked marble floors transford into flawless black onyx streaked with veins of pure gold.
The weathered iron walls straightened and rose higher, their dull gray surfaces shifting into polished black steel, etched with glowing golden runes that pulsed like living circuits.
The squat dos stretched skyward, morphing into graceful spires crowned with golden tops that caught the bruised purple sky and scattered it into waves of shimring auroras.
The training fields shifted into sprawling golden parade grounds, flanked by obsidian statues of Ash’s wives, his daughters, his son, and his brothers.
The central keep stretched higher and broader, its black iron form now topped with a grand golden citadel that seed like a fortress sculpted from pure sunlight.
At its summit, a lone golden spire reached skyward, bearing on its surface letters of living fla that declared:
Bastion of the Goddess of War and Summoning.
Waves of transformation rolled outward, touching every tent, forge, and cultivation platform, leaving them upgraded, reinforced, and gilded.
The silver rivers flowed more clearly, their banks now guarded by golden statues.
Overhead, the false sky lightened—still a bruised purple, but streaked with faint golden veins that echoed the Bastion’s new design.
When the glow faded, the Bastion stood transford—not a final, desperate refuge, but a golden-black fortress worthy of guarding Existence itself.
Morgana, much like a certain forr general, was utterly dumbfounded.
"Di... didn’t you say you were painting?" she muttered.
"Uh... I was," Ash replied with a shrug. "Don’t you see? Tell , do you like it?"
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