Morrigan
The Monster Lord's eyes gleam as brightly as the gold spilling from the opened chest. I watch him from the edge of the council chamber, observing as he runs his fingers through the coins with undisguised delight. His fascination with the payment is almost childlike in its intensity, oblivious to the calculating gazes of the merchant lords surrounding him.
"This is the agreed-upon payment, Monster Lord," Lord Valerian announces with formal precision. "Sixty thousand gold crowns for your exemplary service in defending Northcrest from Lord Keenan's forces."
"Exemplary is right," the Monster Lord murmurs, scooping up a handful of coins and letting them fall back with a satisfying clink. The sound draws his attention completely, his gaze fixed on the golden cascade as if hypnotized.
I shift my position slightly, noting the changed demeanor of the assembled merchants. Where there had been condescension before the battle, now I see wariness tinged with opportunistic calculation. Even the pompous Lord Velimir stands with perfect posture, his earlier joviality replaced with careful deference.
"The Confederation is deeply grateful for your intervention," Valerian continues while the Monster Lord continues playing with the coins. "General Harrick's reports indicate that without your forces, Northcrest would almost certainly have fallen."
"Just fulfilling our contract," he replies without looking up, still mesmerized by the treasure. "Your militia fought well too."
The blatant falsehood draws subtle exchanges of glances among the merchants. They know as well as I do that their militia had merely survived while our forces shattered Keenan's army. The northern flank's complete collapse and the decisive victory had been entirely our doing.
I observe the subtle shifts in posture, the minute changes in expression that reveal the merchants' true thoughts. Lord Caldwell's fingers twitch slightly when the Monster Lord mentions the militia, a tell that betrays his knowledge of how close to defeat they had actually come. Lady Serena's lips tighten almost imperceptibly, recognition of power being carefully masked. The language of body and face is as clear to me now as spoken words.
"Indeed," Valerian says diplomatically. "Still, the manner of victory was... unexpected. The complete rout of Keenan's forces that have terrorized our borders for years, this goes beyond what was anticipated when we engaged your services."
"Monsters have certain advantages in combat," the Monster Lord replies with a shrug, not even looking up from the gold.
I suppress my rising amusement. His understatement borders on the absurd. Our forces didn't merely defeat Keenan's army, they systematically dismantled it with efficiency that left hardened military commanders in shock. Yet he speaks of it as casually as discussing the weather while continuing to play with his newfound wealth.
"The Council has authorized me to discuss potential future engagements," Valerian continues. "Perhaps a more permanent arrangement for border security, or escort services for our more valuable caravans."
"We can talk about that later," he replies, barely acknowledging the diplomatic overture as he continues grinning at the coins.
Lord Velimir steps forward, clearing his throat with practiced precision. "Monster Lord, if I might interject with a proposal of my own?"
The Monster Lord finally looks up, as if surprised to find the chamber still full of people. "Yes?"
"As you may recall from our reception, my daughter Elara has expressed significant scholarly interest in your unique capabilities," Velimir begins, his posture deferential in a way it certainly wasn't before the battle. "She has studied at the Western Academies and believes your enhancement of monstrous species represents an unprecedented phenomenon worthy of serious study."
I note the careful choice of words, "unique capabilities" rather than the more accurate "power over monsters." The subtle shift reveals Velimir's recognition that he stands before something more than a mere tamer of beasts.
"I would like to propose that Elara be permitted to study under your guidance," Velimir continues. "To observe and document the processes you've catalyzed. Such knowledge could prove invaluable."
The Monster Lord's brow furrows slightly. "You want your daughter to come live in a swamp full of monsters?"
"For research purposes, yes," Velimir confirms quickly. "Elara is quite determined in her scholarly pursuits. And of course," he adds, "I would provide a stipend of one thousand gold crowns monthly to compensate for any inconvenience and cover her expenses."
I watch as the Monster Lord's expression shifts instantly at the mention of more gold, his previous confusion replaced by barely concealed eagerness. He fails to recognize the obvious political maneuver, Velimir seeking to establish a family connection to the newly demonstrated power of the Monster Lord's domain.
"That's... very generous," he says, attempting and failing to sound casual.
"A small price for advancing scientific understanding," Velimir replies smoothly. "And perhaps establishing a more permanent connection between the Monster Lord's domain and House Velimir."
The political implications of this move are transparent to everyone in the chamber except, apparently, the Monster Lord himself. His attention has already returned to calculating the additional gold, completely missing Velimir's true objective.
"I don't see why not," he decides, visibly warming to the idea of more treasure rather than considering any deeper implications. "As long as she understands the risks. We're not exactly running a luxury resort."
"Excellent!" Velimir's face lights up with poorly concealed triumph. "Elara will be delighted. She can be ready to depart with your forces when you return to your territory."
The other merchant lords shift uncomfortably, exchanging glances of envy and frustration. Lord Caldwell steps forward, clearing his throat.
"My daughter Seraphina has also expressed interest in... natural philosophy," he says, the hastily constructed lie hanging awkwardly in the air. "Perhaps she could join this scholarly expedition as well? I would offer similar compensation, of course."
Before the Monster Lord can respond, another merchant pushes forward. "My son is an accomplished alchemist who would benefit greatly from studying your unique botanical resources. I would gladly provide a monthly stipend for—"
"One scholar is enough for now," the Monster Lord interrupts, starting to feel annoyed at all the interruptions. "Let's see how Miss Velimir adjusts before we consider turning my swamp into an academy."
The disappointed merchants step back, shooting envious glances at Velimir, who struggles to hide his smug satisfaction. They all recognize the opportunity he has secured, placing his daughter as the sole human connection to this emerging power.
"Now, if there's nothing else," the Monster Lord continues, turning back to the gold, "we should prepare for departure. My forces are ready to return to our territory."
"Of course, Monster Lord," Valerian says with a formal bow. "The Confederation stands ready to assist with your journey preparations."
As the merchants file out, bowing more deeply than they ever did before the battle, I approach the Monster Lord. He continues running his fingers through the coins, seemingly oblivious to the political maneuvering that just occurred.
"They fear you now," I observe quietly. "Fear and opportunity, the twin motivations of merchant minds."
"They should be happy," he replies without looking up from the gold. "We just saved their city."
"Gratitude and fear often coexist uneasily," I note. "As for Lord Velimir's proposal, you realize his true motivation, of course."
He finally looks up, confusion clear in his expression. "What do you mean? He wants his daughter to study our evolution. Seems straightforward enough."
I feel something stir within me, amusement, perhaps, at his remarkable political naivety despite his growing power. "He seeks to position his daughter as a potential consort, thereby establishing his house as the primary connection between the Confederation and your domain. The scholarly interest may be genuine, but the political maneuvering is unmistakable."
His eyes widen in genuine surprise. "Wait, he's trying to set me up with his daughter?"
"Precisely. A traditional approach to securing political allegiance. By placing her in your household, he creates opportunity for personal connection while simultaneously ensuring his house receives firsthand intelligence about your capabilities and intentions."
"But I agreed because of the gold," he admits, looking momentarily embarrassed. "I wasn't thinking about political marriages or alliances."
"I am aware," I reply, unable to completely suppress the hint of amusement in my voice. "Your apparent indifference to traditional power structures makes you unpredictable to those who operate within them. It is... unexpectedly beneficial at times. "
He shakes his head, laughing at his own obliviousness. "So I accidentally made a major political move without realizing it, and now all the other merchants are jealous because they think I gave House Velimir special access?"
"Essentially correct," I confirm. "Though the thousand gold monthly stipend is still objectively beneficial regardless of the political dimensions."
I find myself increasingly concerned by the Monster Lord's political naivety. His power grows exponentially, yet his understanding of the political landscape remains rudimentary at best. Such a combination, immense power coupled with political innocence, creates vulnerability that others will inevitably seek to exploit.
Yet perhaps there is strength in his unpredictability. The very qualities that might be considered weaknesses, his lack of political sophistication, that make him difficult for traditional powers to manipulate or predict.
As he turns his attention back to the gold, asking me to help organize its transport, I resolve to increase my vigilance. The Monster Lord may not recognize the political currents swirling around him, but I do. And until he develops that awareness himself, I will ensure that no one takes advantage of his blind spots.
---
John
The journey back to our territory has a completely different atmosphere from our march to Northcrest. Where before we encountered wariness and barely concealed fear, now we're greeted with cheering crowds, flower petals thrown in our path, and hastily arranged celebrations in every town we pass through.
Word of our victory has spread rapidly, the tales growing more exaggerated with each retelling. According to one street performer we pass, I personally challenged three Death Knights to single combat while riding a dragon made of living crystal.
"Your reputation is growing fast," Nerk says as we ride through yet another town where citizens line the streets to glimpse our army. "People respect power, especially when it wins battles."
"They're certainly not hiding their children anymore," I agree, watching as small boys run alongside our column, waving wooden swords and pretending to be monsters rather than monster-slayers.
"Fear turns to respect pretty quickly when you're on the winning side," Nerk adds with a shrewd nod.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
I can't stop thinking about the gold we're bringing back. Three massive chests full of coins, plus the promise of a thousand more every month. It's like winning the lottery, except instead of buying a sports car and a mansion, I'm planning infrastructure improvements for a swamp.
Still, the feeling is intoxicating. I've never been rich before. Growing up in a middle-class family, then struggling through college and a series of unremarkable jobs, I'd always lived paycheck to paycheck. Now I'm literally swimming in gold. Well, not literally, though the thought of building a Scrooge McDuck-style money vault has definitely crossed my mind.
Elara Velimir rides nearby, her eyes constantly moving between her journal and the monster forces surrounding her. Unlike most of the Confederation citizens, she seems more curious than awed, documenting everything she sees with quick, precise notes.
"The way people react to your army is fascinating," she remarks, noticing my attention. "The same monsters that terrified them days ago are now celebrated as heroes, just because they won a battle."
"Just human nature," I reply with a shrug. "Everyone loves a winner."
"Maybe, but it's more complex than that," she says with a small smile. "I'm really interested in how people respond differently to your various monster types. See how they stay further back from Gorthal's metallic orcs but some of them actually approach Nerk's hobgoblins?"
She gestures toward the street, where indeed the watching townsfolk maintain a greater distance from the orcs while some braver souls actually approach the hobgoblin formations to offer flowers or small gifts.
"You really are studying us," I observe, impressed by her genuine academic interest.
"Of course," she replies, looking momentarily confused. "That's why I'm here. What you've done with these monsters is incredible! No one has ever managed to evolve them like this before. I've read every text on monster biology the Western Academies had, and none of them even suggested this kind of transformation was possible."
I find myself warming to her enthusiasm. Unlike the calculating merchants or wary militia officers, Elara approaches our strangeness with genuine curiosity rather than fear or greed. It's refreshing.
"Well, you'll have plenty to study when we reach the swamp," I tell her. "Just remember to follow safety protocols. Not all our monsters are as disciplined as the ones you see here."
She nods eagerly, scribbling another note in her journal. "I've packed special waterproof parchment and inks that won't run in humid air. My father thought I was being excessive, but you can't do proper research without the right materials."
As our column continues its triumphant journey through Confederation territory, I can't help but feel a surge of pride. A few months ago, I was just a lost human with a single goblin bond. Now I command an army that has defeated Death Knights and routed a force many times its size. I've got chests of gold, a swamp kingdom that grows more impressive by the day, and apparently even the merchant houses competing for political connection to my court.
The Monster Lord. Still feels weird to think of myself that way, but I'm definitely getting used to it.
---
Our return to the swamp territory is met with celebration of a different kind. No flower petals or cheering crowds here, but the pride and satisfaction are no less evident. Trolls emerge from the murky waters to form honor guards along our path. Goblins not yet evolved to hobgoblin state watch with naked admiration as their transformed kin march in perfect formation. Hagravens perform displays of lightning and wind that illuminate our passage through the darkening swamp.
"They understand what we've accomplished," Nerk says as we approach the central settlement. "Even the ones who didn't fight know this was an important victory."
He's right. The battle against Keenan's forces wasn't just a military victory, it was a demonstration of everything we've been building toward. The monster army proved itself not just a match for conventional forces, but decidedly superior.
"Any word from Morkath?" I ask, realizing we're nearly halfway through his transformation period.
"The vessel is doing well," Gorthal says, the metallic patterns on his skin shifting subtly in the swamp light. "Transformation is going as expected. The elder trolls say there's been more activity inside the container the last few days. That's a good sign."
That's encouraging. With Gorthal's successful evolution to Blood Sage and Nerk's battlefield command experience potentially pushing him toward his own breakthrough, we could soon have three fully evolved lieutenants. And if Morkath's transformation completes successfully, that would make four.
"We should check on him tomorrow," I decide as we approach the central platform where the elder trolls await. "After we get settled and secure the gold."
The "securing" part proves more challenging than anticipated. Three massive chests of gold coins isn't something our swamp infrastructure was designed to accommodate. We eventually convert a small storage hut into a makeshift treasury, with Nerk's hobgoblins constructing reinforced walls and a proper locking mechanism.
"This will work for now," Nerk says as we survey the completed modifications. "But we should build something stronger soon. A proper treasury."
"Make it impressive," I tell him, still riding the high of our victory and newfound wealth. "Something that shows we mean business."
"A good treasury serves two purposes," Nerk agrees. "It keeps the gold safe and it shows everyone how important we are."
After settling Elara into quarters that have been hastily improved to accommodate a human scholar, complete with raised floors to keep out the perpetual swamp moisture and special netting to reduce insect intrusion, I finally retire to my own house. The building my lieutenants constructed for me feels genuinely welcoming after a week on the march, its bloodroot-swampfern hybrid keeping the interior blissfully insect-free and comfortably cool despite the humid night air.
I've barely had time to appreciate being home when Morrigan arrives to discuss the treasury project and Elara's research accommodations. We're halfway through plans for a dedicated research platform when a messenger arrives, one of the elder trolls responsible for monitoring Morkath's transformation vessel.
"The vessel is showing much more activity," the troll reports. "Much more energy inside than before. The elders think the transformation is reaching an important stage."
I exchange glances with Morrigan. "Earlier than expected?"
"The battle might have sped things up," she suggests. "Even though he was far away, he's still connected to us through your bond. The energy from our victory could have given his transformation a push."
"We should check on him immediately," I decide, already heading for the door.
The sacred pool where Morkath's transformation vessel rests has changed dramatically since we last visited. The water now glows with a faint greenish luminescence, and numerous swamp plants have grown around the pool's edge in patterns too regular to be natural. The vessel itself pulses with visible energy, its translucent walls now almost transparent, revealing the changing form within.
What was once recognizably Morkath has transformed into something far more abstract, a shifting mass of plant and troll features that constantly reconfigures itself. Root systems extend and retract, bark-like skin flows like liquid, leafy growths emerge and submerge throughout the amorphous form.
"Is this... normal?" I ask the elder trolls who maintain a constant vigil around the pool.
"Each transformation is different," one elder replies. "No one has ever attempted to merge with the swamp this deeply before. But the energy feels right. The swamp accepts him."
"How much longer?" I press, watching as a face I almost recognize forms briefly in the shifting mass before dissolving back into the whole.
"Hard to say," the elder admits. "Could be days. Could be hours. The final stage is unpredictable."
"We'll maintain watch," I decide. "Nerk, establish a rotation of hobgoblin guards to supplement the elder trolls. Gorthal, I want your blood-warriors to create a protective perimeter. Just in case."
My lieutenants acknowledge their orders and move to implement them. As they depart, I find myself alone with Morrigan, both of us watching the pulsing vessel with a mixture of fascination and concern.
"What will he become?" I wonder aloud.
"Something beyond what we know now," Morrigan replies. "Each of us becomes something new when we break through our limits. Morkath's transformation will be especially profound because he's connecting with the entire swamp consciousness. He'll be changed in ways we can't predict."
As we settle in for a night of watching over Morkath's transformation, I can't help but wonder what challenges await us next. We've defeated Death Knights and routed a conventional army. We've secured wealth and recognition. But something tells me this is just the beginning of the Monster Lord's story.
---
Lord Caldwell, Merchant Guild of Northcrest
"Preposterous," Merchant Lord Tybalt scoffs, his jowls quivering with indignation. "These reports must be exaggeration. No monster force could possibly defeat Death Knights in direct combat, let alone rout a professional army five times its size."
The council chamber of Northcrest's Merchant Guild falls uncomfortably silent as those of us who actually witnessed the battle exchange glances. Lord Tybalt, like several others around the table, had remained safely within the city walls during the conflict.
"I saw it with my own eyes, Tybalt," I reply quietly. "The hobgoblins moved with precision that would shame our finest drill instructors. The orcs with metallic skin shrugged off wounds that would kill any mortal creature. And their commanders..." I trail off, the memory still fresh enough to send a chill down my spine.
"Their commanders?" Lord Mathias prompts, leaning forward with interest. Unlike Tybalt, he at least seems willing to listen.
"The one they call the Blood Sage," I continue reluctantly. "An orc, but transformed beyond recognition. Metallic skin covered in glowing patterns, wielding an axe that seemed to drink in the surrounding light. I watched him cut a fully armored knight in half with a single stroke, Mathias. Clean through plate armor like it was parchment."
"And the hagraven witch," Lord Velimir adds, his face unusually pale despite his recent political coup in placing his daughter with the Monster Lord. "She hovered above the battlefield, calling down lightning that struck with uncanny precision. She summoned winds that knocked entire formations off their feet, and conjured storms that somehow affected only enemy troops while leaving our militia untouched."
"You expect us to believe in weather magic now?" Tybalt sneers, though with less conviction than before.
"I expect you to believe the sworn testimony of General Harrick," Lord Valerian interjects, his status as Plenipotentiary giving his words particular weight. "A man who has served the Confederation for twenty-three years without once filing a report containing exaggeration or fabrication. His assessment is clear: the Monster Lord's forces represent a military capability beyond any conventional army on the continent."
He slides a document across the table, a copy of Harrick's official report. "I draw your attention to page four, where he specifically notes, and I quote: 'The precision of hobgoblin archery exceeds that of elven master bowmen, with arrows routinely finding eye slits in helmets at seventy yards. The resilience of the metallic orcs surpasses even death knight regenerative capabilities, with soldiers witnessing direct impalement causing only temporary impediment. Most concerning, the magical capabilities demonstrated by the evolved hagraven commander include weather manipulation techniques previously observed only in high mages of the ancient bloodlines.'"
A heavy silence falls over the chamber as the implications sink in.
"If this assessment is accurate," Lord Mathias says carefully, "then the Monster Lord commands a force that could potentially... challenge any power on the continent."
"Which is precisely why House Velimir has secured a direct connection to his court," Lord Tybalt snipes, glaring at Velimir. "Quite convenient timing, Barton, offering your daughter as 'scholar' immediately after this demonstration of power."
Velimir straightens in his chair. "Elara's academic interest is genuine. The opportunity to study unprecedented biological evolution—"
"Save the pretense," Lady Serena interrupts, her sharp voice cutting through his explanation. "You've positioned your house for preferential treatment from an emerging power. A shrewd move, if somewhat transparent. The question is, what should the rest of us do in response?"
"The Confederation Council has already taken action," Valerian informs us. "A permanent diplomatic mission will be established, with regular communication channels and trade agreements beyond the current mercenary arrangement."
"Is that wise?" Tybalt asks, genuine concern replacing his earlier skepticism. "If these creatures truly possess the capabilities described in Harrick's report, perhaps containment would be a more prudent approach than engagement."
Valerian fixes him with a cold stare. "And how exactly would you propose to 'contain' a force that just decimated five thousand elite troops and three Death Knights without breaking formation? No, Lord Tybalt, containment is no longer an option. The Monster Lord's army exists, its power is real, and our only sensible course is to ensure we remain on favorable terms with this new regional power."
"Besides," I add quietly, remembering the methodical precision with which the hobgoblin archers eliminated Keenan's officers, "I don't think the Monster Lord is interested in conquest. He fulfilled his contract and returned to his swamp with his payment. If expansion were his goal, he could have simply continued his advance after Keenan's forces broke."
"For now," Lady Serena points out. "But power often creates its own ambitions. What happens when this Monster Lord decides his swamp kingdom is insufficient? When he looks to the wealthy Confederation territories with their resources and trade networks?"
No one has a good answer to that. We all saw what his forces did to Keenan's army. If those same capabilities were turned against Northcrest or any other Confederation city, I doubt our militia would fare any better than Keenan's elite troops.
"Perhaps," Velimir suggests carefully, "this is why maintaining strong diplomatic and personal connections to the Monster Lord's court is so essential. Elara's position may provide valuable insights into his intentions and capabilities."
"How convenient for House Velimir," Tybalt mutters.
"Enough bickering," Valerian commands. "The reality is that the power balance of the northern regions has shifted dramatically. The Monster Lord's emergence, Keenan's defeat, and reports of increased Death Knight activity all point to significant changes on the horizon. The Confederation must adapt quickly to secure its position in this new landscape."
As the meeting continues with discussions of increased militia funding and potential defensive improvements for Northcrest, I find my thoughts returning to the battlefield. To the sound of arrows finding their marks with impossible precision, to the sight of metallic orcs advancing through wounds that should have been fatal, to the Blood Sage cutting through armor and flesh with equal ease.
Whatever this Monster Lord truly is, whatever power allows him to transform ordinary monsters into the disciplined killing force we witnessed, one thing is certain: the old assumptions no longer apply. Those who fail to recognize this new reality, who still think of monsters as mindless beasts to be slaughtered or contained, are in for a rude awakening.
The world is changing. The Monster Lord has seen to that.