“Let’s just rip the bandaid off,” he decided. “What do I care about the lesser rewards? Let’s get all of us on the road home. There’s other work to be done.” He cpped his hands and got up. “Time for clothes.”

  “Yeah, you owe me some!” Maliande decred.

  “And as a powerful mage, I oblige.” Rykard closed his eyes and looked for a strong point in the fabric of reality around them. He found it three steps removed from them. A combination of Alteration and Conjuration let him grab it. Maliande let out a confused blurt when he pulled the fabric of reality into the form of literal fabric.

  “I think bck and purple do suit you,” Rykard stated and kneaded the magical fibres in his hands, as if it was freshly mixed cy. More of his magic flowed into it as he made it take shape. The procedure was taxing, even for him, but he hid that with the usual smugness.

  He pulled his hands apart. The fabric was semi-liquid, stretching between his extremities like a sort of rubber. He clumped it all up again, then stretched it again. The vague material was forced further into shape with every thought Rykard infused in it. After seven repetition of it, he tossed the finished unitard at Maliande.

  The bratty mage inspected the item with horror and fascination. She painted over both emotions by sending Rykard a gre. “You think you’re soooooo special!”

  “He is special, objectively,” Miyo came to her man’s defence.

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever!” Maliande pulled the clothing under her covers and shuffled around within. Once done, she tossed the bnket off to inspect herself. The leotard was simple in the first few seconds, bck with purple decorations. Just as she was about to compin further, the magical item spread out. It turned into a perfect copy of the bodysuit that Rykard had destroyed. The only difference was that this one was brimming with magical energy twice as potent. “...whatever…” she muttered, without the bark.

  Everyone else put on their clothes shortly afterwards. Whether they agreed with his decision or not, now that he had made it, they all moved with it in mind. Well, all of them except Maliande, who snuck out of the room before the rest of them. Rykard let her. He already had her on the hook and he could reel her in when he went to visit her nation at the test.

  Rykard whistled loudly as he descended the step. One of Loran’s companions, judging by the way of dress, was scurrying about. “Tell your leader I want to talk to him in the dining room,” the king ordered. The servant was too smart to take offence at being told what to do by a foreign ruler. He bowed his head and then darted off. The mage repeated this for everyone else.

  Twenty minutes ter, Rykard stood at the head of the long table, swirling water in a chalice. A gesture of boredom more than anything else. “So, what’s this about?” Lord asked, as he sat down.

  “We could have known ten minutes ago, had you known proper haste,” Benhuldran criticized.

  “Look, creampies don’t make themselves, okay?” Lord answered with a wave. “So?”

  “I have decided to end this game now,” Rykard told all of them. Reactions fell in one of two camps: resignation or amusement. No one was truly surprised at his revetion. “I had won before it properly began and sold the second pce to Maliande.”

  “I do not associate!” the bratty mage decred. “Also, you’re all losers.”

  “Spending further time here is against my interest, so let’s make it simple. Tess, if you would like to confess?”

  “Rykard let me out and I killed the Butler,” she stated pinly. “The blood trails you have been following, he made to fool you.”

  “And there you have it.” Faces around the table turned into solemn expressions as the divine intuition confirmed to them the end of the game. No sooner had it spread to everyone that the room distorted around them.

  Surprised gasps echoed through the stretching reality. Various followers of the other Contestants, busy searching or sleeping, were pulled into the central space. Of the mansion around them, only the long table remained. Even the unused chairs were removed.

  “Entertaining, very entertaining!” spoke the deity that had manifested opposite of Rykard. Its shape was inconclusive, a wobbling mass of pale grey with a shiny texture. Thin tendrils that hung from it gave it a roughly jellyfish-esque appearance. A halo shone above its head, definitive proof of the creature’s godly nature. “I prefer my proper detective games, but this will suffice.”

  Rykard did not know this god, but he did not care to ask either. Benhuldran did not share that apathy. “I honour you, great one, even if I do not recognize you.”

  “Few do, let’s not change that today. Given the extraordinary circumstances, let me simply inform you that all but Maliande and Rykard have tied for st pce.” The grey god wobbled in an amused manner. “Each of you shall be allowed to pce one lesser consteltion in the sky. You will be allowed to relocate up to three Ocean Tiles. Not remove, relocate.”

  The grey god thing focused on Maliande next. “You will be allowed to pce 1 major consteltion and 2 lesser ones. You may also remove or expand six Hexagons worth of ocean.”

  “I see,” Maliande hummed, her body frozen for a split second.

  Rykard found out what had created the odd gesture a moment ter. ‘Your negotiations have been added to your reward for our ease,’ the god-thing informed the mage via telepathy. It continued out loud. “Rykard, you will be granted the decision of the day and night cycle, the celestial bodies, 3 greater consteltions, 8 lesser ones, and you are permitted to add or remove 12 Hexagons of Ocean and Coast.” The grey god cleared his… whatever he used to speak. “By decision of the gods, allocations of new oceans must be done in triangur clusters. We find the channels aesthetically displeasing.”

  “What are the rules for the relocations?” Loran asked.

  “The moved Ocean Tiles must be pced adjacent to current ones. And Coastal Tiles that are not currently colonized will disappear. New ones will be made as necessary,” the god expined. “Now then… before anything else, Rykard, you must make your choice on the sky of this world. This will inform the shape of the Consteltions.”

  “Finally, the appropriate amount of power,” Rykard stated and rubbed his smooth chin. “First, I desire a regur rhythm of day and night - and I mean truly regur. No changes of daytime and nighttime based on season. I wish it to be like the mid-Spring of my world.”

  “It will be done,” the god-thing nodded.

  “As for the sky itself, I wish to change up regurity slightly. A light blue sky at day, a dark blue, even bck sky at night, but the stars shall be faintly visible even during the day.”

  “Also easily doable,” answered divine jellyfish.

  “Rather than one big one, let’s have several smaller ones. I want them to come out over the course of the day. At noon, they should form a hexagon in the sky above.”

  “That, too, can be done.”

  Now came the first part of the summoning for the Princess of Yellow. He conjured the mental image of the eldritch blonde. It felt like the thought was squirming like a thousand worms in his head. Excited wiggling, for what was to come. “I want a slightly rger sun to be at the centre and its name shall be Dalia.”

  “...If it must be,” the god answered reluctantly.

  The squirming thought inside Rykard’s head expanded, until he put on borders around her. ‘Behave,’ he ordered the elder god’s spawn, soon to be named Dalia. ‘Your willing ensvement is at hand, Princess.’ A spastic shudder went through the mental image, like a touch-starved submissive left roped up and blindfolded getting her nipples twisted.

  “And the night sky?” the god-thing probed.

  “I wish for a night sun, pale as the full moon, surrounded by six small moons that orbit it in a six-day cycle. The sun shall be called the Nightstar.”

  “Ah, so that is the design… well, then, I approve!”

  The thought within Rykard’s head rejoiced, becoming a tangible thing that could no longer inhabit his head. ‘I shall meet you at home, Master,’ the former Princess of Yellow said her parting words, before flowing away like liquid flesh. Her manifestation in New Eden was at hand.

  The other Contestants did not know what had transpired and the god glossed over the creature turned willing sex sve that was becoming material.

  “Now that you know what kind of sky the stars shall be set in, step forwards and decre your consteltions.”

  In short order, Lord, Benhuldran, Loran and Cryo stepped forwards to make their changes to the map. Lord wished for a consteltion dedicated to a barrel of booze. Benhuldran requested a sword in a stone, one of the symbols of Marik. Loran wished for the fg of his country to be eternalized. Cryo desired a consteltion called the Flux, but was denied it as it would have been a major consteltion. He went for a simple symbol in the sky for his own glory.

  Loran rallied his fellow Contestants to do the Snowfkes Holds a favour and relocate the Ocean Tiles that were in the way of the dwarves' desired expansion. He had to do some convincing to that end, as Benhuldran and Cryo were not big in doing favours for svers. The diplomatic ability of the androgynous man won out in the end.

  The Ocean Tiles were relocated to the sea by the Huldran Empire. “This puts us closer,” Rykard noted when Benhuldran walked back.

  “Your growth is astonishing,” the conqueror stated simply. “I believe it in my interest to take my final stand against you sooner rather than ter.”

  “Respectable,” Rykard answered.

  “Maliande, it is your turn,” the grey god-thing stated.

  “I demand the major consteltion of the Current be added to the night sky,” Maliande stated. “As for lesser consteltions… I want two big purple stars that represent my eyes!”

  “That is acceptable,” the jellyfish agreed. “Your Ocean Tiles?”

  “...P-put the six of them north of my current little ocean! A p-proper mage realm needs a proper sea!” Her stammering made it abundantly clear that she had an ulterior motive. Gnces at Rykard, whose borders she now approached, informed the king on what that was. She was actually closing the gap between their realms.

  The world was getting a little smaller, bit by bit.

  “And now, Rykard, it is time for your many, many choices!”

  “Very well, I shall start with the Minor Consteltions,” Rykard said. These choices would be without consequence, but as a well-read man, he had many that he would like to see in his sky. Purely aesthetic preferences. “I want to see the Twins, the Dragon and the Crown, by each other’s side. I wish for the Book in the eastern hemisphere and the Archer in the west. The Snake shall be as far from my realm as it can be made. The Infinity and the Candle shall be above my estate at midnight, showing my eternal vigince.”

  The god-thing let out squeaky noises that sounded vaguely agreeing. “And the Major Consteltions?”

  “The Divine Harem,” he answered immediately. “To assure that more women are born and to give the men something to work for.”

  “As predicted,” it said without judgement. “Two more.”

  “I desire… the Rain of Light,” Rykard stated.

  That one got a short tense out of the heap of divine flesh. “Are you certain? You invite to your world great fortune and great terror with this consteltion. None may say what horrid fate will befall you or your descendants…”

  “I can limit it,” Rykard stated confidently. “For my third and final choice shall be the Elder Sign. Etch into the stars the symbol that all eldritch creatures abhor and cannot rebuke. With this, only worldly terrors will haunt me and my descendant and if my sons cannot handle what is to come… well, then they do not deserve the harem paradise I am leaving them.”

  “Very well,” the god-thing decred. “Then where shall you pce your Ocean Tiles?”

  Rykard did not care too much about this aspect of it all. After a few gnces at the new state of the map, he found himself with essentially two options. Either he could connect his ocean with that in the north, by Benhuldran, or the south, by Maliande. For strategic reasons, he narrowly decided on the former.

  He was entirely certain that he would have the brat wrapped around his finger once he went down there to complete their deal. Therefore, giving his navy access to that ocean was simply useless. When it came to the Huldran Empire, however, it may become useful to have a way to ferry additional troops in that could lock the nd down, should a simple duel between him and the conqueror not suffice in showing the locals who was in charge of this world.

  “We will do it like this,” Rykard said, drawing four triangles on the map. Once Benhuldran saw it, he stiffened visibly. The creation of a channel between their realms was practically a decration of war.

  “The lines are drawn then?” the older man asked.

  “I don’t know when I will get around to you,” Rykard confessed. “I have much, much work to do.”

  “Quite so,” Miyo agreed, giving her man a leisurely gre. A masterful expression, telling him everything while leaving everyone else guessing. Although Rykard had done his best to tie the women he had picked up during this trip together, there was still work to be done to make sure his ever-growing harem was harmonious.

  “Then this concludes the Divine Game,” the god-thing said. “I thank you all for participating! Stay entertaining!”

  Rykard was about to protest to being teleported immediately. Before he could say anything, he was put into an empty void. There was white in all directions, the only break in it: Altana. The mage immediately caught onto the meaning. “The gods can be merciful.”

  “They can be,” the ouroboros queen answered and strut towards him. Her hips swung side to side. She had always possessed a sashay when she was in her more attractive forms, no doubt a manifestation of her seduction genes. That was strengthened now that she had her breeding intentions firmly locked on him. “Is there anything to say?”

  “Not much,” Rykard responded, pulling her into a kiss as soon as she reached the range of his hands. Their lips mashed against each other in a desperate attempt to taste as much of each other as was necessary to fill the void of the coming separation. No matter how many women the harem king cimed as his own, he did not tire of any of them, nor did he wish to be separate.

  They failed at filling that void. They failed at saying anything more. In the brief span afforded to them by the gods, they stood in the nothing, forehead to forehead, and beheld each other’s eyes.

  Rykard blinked and found himself in front of his mansion.