“You’re right, they do almost look like giant crabs from up here, if one has only ever heard vague descriptions of crabs.”

  “Except, as a general rule, crabs don’t have bones, whereas those temples are made predominantly out of bones, or at least for the aesthetic veneer.” responded Femandias, who was more of an expert on the temples than the skeletons. Well, the skeletons aren’t experts on anything, but I mean he did not know as much about skeletons as Tibulmandias.

  I soared above the Ashlands, with Nanu as my escort and Tibulmandias and Femandias as my guides. Below us, huge temples of bone walked along the ground on a myriad of legs, with the general shape of the temples and their method of perambulation reminiscent of a crab. Six of them in total began their slow migration, probably clocking in at around 3 miles per hour. Their steps were large, if slow, and they remained level and moved smoothly so as to not jostle those inside. As large as the structures were, the gentle hills of the Ashlands were relatively flat enough for them that they didn’t even bother with roads.

  “And that is where the pilots for the undead are housed?” I asked as we circled closer.

  “Indeed, it is as you say, Emperor. These are not the fully functional undead you find in the wild, more of husks with the most basic of commands to make them walk themselves to where they need to be. The Bone Temple Pilots, as we call them, will be placed in special pods to remotely control individual skeletons. If you tried it, you would find that it’s all in the suit that you wear, for those suits are how we map body parts on the host to those of the pilots. It gets more complicated for non-humanoid skeletons, but basically, if the pilot has the training to fight and move, the skeleton can replicate it. As you have seen from the great host of skeletons, we have plenty of spares for our ten-thousand or so pilots.”

  As we circled closer, more dragons from The Bone Wardens appeared into view, each as if we had invaded some private bubble of invisibility they employed. They looked my way curiously, but otherwise maintained their patrol to safeguard their treasured temples that were currently vulnerable during migration.

  “I imagine the Bone Temple Pilots will see a rise in recruitment in the coming months and years, given what you said about them.”

  “All predictions suggest as much. Either they come to us as pilots, or we wait a while and they come to us as skeletons.” He laughed uproariously at his own joke, and indeed, even I smirked at the grim reality of how every single defender of World’s Hope that didn’t get obliterated would find their bones employed in the army of skeletons. “It is a safe way for [Warriors] and other individuals with martially-inclined Blessings to grow in strength without exposing themselves to risk. Not as good as the real thing, but then, they can’t die while doing it.”

  “If recruitment gets high enough, they may even pay you to be pilots,” I added casually, in an almost flippant manner if one were so bold as to make such accusations of the Emperor.

  “Tibulmandias, write that down! Write that down! We could maybe make money off it.”

  “Ugh, fine, but you get to be the one to bring it up at the board meeting. I can conduct the feasibility study and market research, but I am not taking the flak for it if it fails.”

  I had meant it as a joke, but apparently, with a sufficient imbalance of supply and demand, people will pay you to work for you, especially when it comes to strengthening one’s Blessing.

  “The foundations for your temples are complete,” I continued with a stronger degree of seriousness. “They can just walk to their designated spots without issue. Pretty neat setup you have, though; I would love to see the enchantments you have running on it.”

  “Uh,” Femandias replied as he shared an uncertain glance with Tibulmandias. “I am not authorized to grant that request, but I could bring it up as the first item on the agenda. Perhaps your attendant, Skull, could come over to coordinate those details. We like bones, her name is literally ‘Skull’, it seems like she would be an excellent liaison.”

  “Oh, I am certain she would love it there, but she can’t stray too far from my side, you know how it is.”

  Two dragons gave me sad expressions at the polite rejection. Not only was Skull a peerless beauty, she contained a significant number of rare and valuable Traits that they would want to get their grubby little claws on. As Nanu had instructed me, it was inseparably implicit that a liaison between flights was going to be sexually involved with a large number of dragons from each flight, so sending a prude would be an insult. Skull was no prude, but alas, she literally could not stray far from me.

  “Perhaps Jericho would work for you instead. You have already met her and she can be in several places at once, provided those places are not too far apart.”

  My guides considered the offer, and they apparently engaged in a private conversation before coming to a consensus.

  “A most gracious offer, Emperor. We would be happy to coordinate with her.”

  Oh, I’m sure they would ‘coordinate’ with her frequently. They may be displeased that they will need to use male bodies in such a context, for Jericho doesn’t show much interest in women. But considering she could have many bodies at once, that may lead to interesting and unexplored opportunities, especially considering her fetish for biting and the extremes she wants to go with trying it. After all, only one of her copies needs to survive.

  “Excellent! Now then, concerning the conclave of the flights, I was thinking…”

  “Pips, we must make haste if we are to be punctual.”

  Easy for him to say, but I am the one waiting for him to finish ‘decompressing’ with me. The other three naked kobolds in the room with me offer no assistance, for they are well and truly exhausted after keeping up with Kaisadoro’s appetites. I quickly learned to let others get first dibs with him so that I would not be the one zonked out. Such a suggestion took little convincing.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  It is no secret that kobolds idolize dragons, that we aspire to become dragons ourselves. You would be hard-pressed to find a kobold not eager to be bedded by a dragon, male or female. I am no exception, but in my Role as his Secretary, I at least have to maintain the appearance that I do not thirst for his attention.

  “Right you are, sir. I can cancel your three o’clock appointment and shuffle around your schedule if you still need more time to finish things here.”

  “Nonsense, I will finish things here promptly.”

  Kaisadoro lives his whole life on a schedule. When he sleeps (which is rare because he is a dragon), when he eats, when he works, when he collects Traits, and so forth. Even when he… ugh… that’s the spot!

  “Jolly good, Pips. Excellent as always.”

  Finished with his task, he withdraws from me and changes from his kobold form to his human form. Both are humanoid, with all the proper bits one would expect of a humanoid, but he still prefers the basic template instead of more specialized races. Not that any kobold would ever for a moment believe him to be a real kobold, but that form works out for certain applications, as evident by those in their post-lust torpor brought on by overindulgence.

  I grab a nearby outfit off the shelf and throw it at him, dressing him almost in an instant with [Costume Change]. I likewise dress myself, including the wig of hair that is pulled back tightly into a bun. The short skirt, stockings, high heels, and glasses help complete the ‘sexy secretary’ Role, as does the padding I use to make up for what nature has not provided my race. If only I could be like Bambina, I could make it more natural instead of external, but maybe someday.

  “Almost ready, sir; I just need to address one matter quickly.”

  I open a kobold-sized door and enter the next room, where my sister awaits me. Her appearance is identical to mine, in both the form of her body and her costume. We bring our heads close together, our gills intermingling as we tap into that unique power bestowed upon axolotl-kobolds: Role and memory exchange.

  While other humanoid races are rather attached to their Blessing, we kobolds are more flexible. The leader of the troupe can choose to advance Blessings of particular members, with different costs being associated with those advancements. Gambino, the leader of perhaps the largest troupe the world has openly seen in ages, has bestowed upon my sisters and I the Blessing of [Sleeper Agent], each with the Role of Secretary, which is similar to how Templates work for dragons, except ours can change on the fly.

  With our exchange, the personality of Secretary, along with my recent memories, pass on to her, and she becomes the new “Pips” for the next few hours, while I get to indulge in other activities. Now, I get to be me, for I have no Role for the time being.

  The new “Pips”, one of three of my sisters, exits back into the main room.

  “All preparations have been made, sir. We can proceed at your leisure,” I hear the new Pips say as her voice carries through the door.

  “Very good, let us make haste,” I hear in reply, and before long, the two of them leave the room for another meeting that I am glad to not be part of.

  Within minutes, I forget all about “Pips” and my time spent as her. What she likes, what she desires, the specific details of her job. Gone are my concerns for managing the schedule or-

  “Good to see you again! Welcome, come right in.”

  I don’t remember changing my clothes or coming to this part of the Under-Warren. I am currently wearing the cowled robes of “The Friends of the Emperor”, which was the second layer down in Alterez’s convoluted scheme of cults.

  “Good to see you too, Alterez. Thank you for catering this event once again. Your food is always delicious,” I say back while going through all the motions of gratitude.

  “Too kind, too kind. Have you met Mimbo and Barbo?” he asked as he showcased the two goblin bimbos hanging on him. He had somehow smuggled them into the city, for neither one wore identification bracelets. Clearly, he was flaunting his status and newest lovers, but he had been the only goblin in town for quite a while, so I suppose I can be charitable and sympathize.

  “I am afraid I have not had the pleasure. Perhaps we can mingle later during the potluck, for I am blocking the door.”

  “Of course, of course. We will catch up later.”

  Preferably not, but also, I would need to ingratiate myself with him if I were to find myself invited to the next layer down for his cults. Gambino and Bambina were already in the fourth layer, but they couldn’t just outright advocate for me to be invited, for that would draw too much suspicion.

  The first layer of cults were mostly private clubs more than anything, venues with just enough lure of the taboo to entice those seeking a thrill and a connection. The second layers were more serious, attracting those who wanted change in the world and a coordinated outlet to see it happen. It was more about community than anything radical or illegal. The third layer changed things up, with more veneration paid to the Emperor and to see His will made reality, or at least how people interpreted what they thought the Emperor would want done. The fourth and most exclusive layer was difficult to be recruited into, for only the most faithful to the Emperor were recruited. Rumor had it that Alterez had already established a fifth layer, but that could just be misdirection.

  For now I would mingle, and while Gambino had assigned me to casually suss out more about Alterez’s cults, my primary objective was to look into the matter of various shipments that were coming up light. Manifests from the wagon masters did not match the secret manifests that riccen agents had been securing from the cities of origin. Someone was skimming, and with the fate of the world at stake, such risk to world security was not taken lightly. Due process and fair legal procedures were out the window when it came to such matters, and I intended to put a stop to it or at least be part of the team that would.

  Odds were, anyone who was looking to sell things that fell off the wagon would be in one of these cults, for everyone who was anyone was part of one cult or another. More deals were made here than anywhere else in the city, and Alterez had his own hand in manipulating how those went down. I couldn’t rule out that he was also skimming, and if so, he could be doing so on orders of the Emperor. Both were devious in different ways, with Alterez weaving fact and fiction and the Emperor obscuring the nasty truth behind a wall of pleasant truths.

  This was a reconnaissance operation, with me playing the curious and na?ve kobold who was friendly and willing to meet new people. Others would be watching me and those who took interest in me. Simply put, I would be bait, and it was not my place to take risks or pry too hard.

  I grabbed myself a drink and some food, for it is hard to work on an empty stomach. Even if one did not care too much for Alterez, one had to admit, the goblin could cook, and this was the best food in the city. He can even prepare grubs just right, where they are crispy the whole way through without being burnt.

  A shady and charismatic human was already making eyes at me. It could be nothing, or it could provide me with a lead. Time to sit here all alone while my unknown allies keep the riff-raff away. This guy would want to chase me, and I had to appear as a pretty little thing that begged to be shown a good time. My meal was only half finished by the time he started his approach.

  “Hey there, gorgeous, I’m Brent. Are you new here?”

  Game time. I’d most likely have to sleep with him if he knew anything useful, but those are the breaks in this line of work. This would be another long night, but at least I would not be on shift as “Pips” for another 15 hours or so. Time to see what’s behind door number one.