Cloudsong nursed his drink with a faint, inscrutable smile.
"Care to elaborate?"
Rhazuun knew that look well. It was the look one gave a village idiot. And at this table, Rhazuun was the only other soul present.
"Am I supposed to know?" Rhazuun frowned, a seed of doubt taking root in his mind.
Cloudsong set his glass down and fixed Rhazuun with a steady gaze. He enunciated every word.
"I told you, this land is the cradle of a new branch of the Giant race."
"The Lord of the Stoneheart Horde is a Demigod. Do you truly believe he would lack the ans to elevate the power of his people?"
"Reach out with your senses," Cloudsong continued, his voice dropping an octave. "Those strangers... the aura they carry is undeniably linked."
Cloudsong didn't know the specifics of the cataclysmic shift within the Stoneheart Horde, but he was certain it tied back to that Giant King. Only a Demigod forging a new bloodline could execute a transformation of this magnitude—a complete rewriting of their very essence.
"You an..."
Rhazuun stopped himself. He realized, with a jolt of cold dread, that this wasn't conversation for a crowded tavern. He clamped his mouth shut.
"Right. I have work to do. Thanks for the drink, old friend," Cloudsong said, rising from his seat. "Personally, I think the Stoneheart Horde would be a perfect fit for your Order of the Dandelion. With the inclusivity here, magical knowledge would spread like wildfire."
He smoothed his tunic. It was ti to take the stage, to weave tales and sing of the good life. This was his job, his hobby, his entire existence.
Eldoria, Port Caelwyn.
The sun dipped below the horizon, bleeding a faint crimson across the water. Poets might call it a maiden's blush; to Aina, it looked like the inflad backside of a departing god, ugly and raw.
The sea wind remained constant, but the waves rolled with a heavy, rhythmic nace, as if the dark ocean were preparing to swallow the world whole.
Not a stray dog, cat, or crow could be seen. In this unnatural silence, Port Caelwyn felt less like a city and more like a tomb.
"Great Titan God, hear our prayer. We thank you for the gift of power and faith. Protect us. In return, we offer our deepest devotion... and the freshest of sacrifices."
Aina had commandeered Namir Cathedral, turning the holy site into the heart of her ritual.
In the shadows of the cathedral's nave and transept stood figures cloaked in black. The air around them vibrated with a feral violence. These were the Hellscream cultists. They had infiltrated Port Caelwyn long ago, burying themselves in the city's underbelly.
Since the release of the Crimson Fever, they had stepped out of the shadows, bringing slaughter in their wake.
"Raveth, let the Titan God feel our sincerity," Aina commanded.
Raveth walked out of the cathedral to the center of the square, where a massive boulder had been dragged into position. He placed a palm gently against the stone. It shuddered, dusting the cobblestones with grit.
Monts later, the rock had been reshaped. A Stoneheart Titan statue, towering one hundred and sixty feet high, now dominated the square, drawing the gaze of every Hellscream mber.
"I declare the offering ritual... begun," Aina's voice drifted from the cathedral, cold and detached.
Crunch. Snap.
The wet, rhythmic sound of chopping blocks echoed through the square. Blood didn't just spill; it flooded the plaza, twisting into crimson runes that writhed in the gore like dying fish.
The blood began to boil. Countless crystallized droplets rose from the red grandeur, defying gravity to latch onto the Stoneheart Titan statue.
The stone seed to draw breath.
A crushing weight descended upon the square. It was the sensation of being watched by sothing apex. Every mber of Hellscream bowed their heads instinctively; it was the only way to relieve the terror pressing against their spines.
"I shall send my envoys to help you restore order."
The voice was majestic, heavy, yet sounded as if it ca from a great distance. At tis it echoed in the mind; at others, it was barely a whisper.
A miracle.
"Has the Titan God descended?"
"It is an oracle!"
"Great God, is this your command?"
Thoughts raced through the minds of the faithful, but the shock was universal. As the crushing pressure vanished, three figures appeared in the square. They possessed no aura of power, no divine glow.
Orion, Leonidas, and Kraken had arrived.
"Aina bows before the Divine Envoys!"
While the others remained stunned, Aina led Raveth out of the cathedral. She knew the truth: no Titan God had descended. These were the reinforcents she had requested.
"By the command of our Lord, we are here to restore order. You need only assist us."
Orion played his part perfectly. Leonidas and Kraken remained silent, their senses expanding to analyze the natural laws of this new world.
Boss, I can taste the salt in the air. Thick. I guarantee there's a sea-dwelling civilization nearby.
Kraken projected his voice to Leonidas, unable to hide his excitent.
Squiddy, map the nearby waters imdiately, Leonidas replied silently. Once we're done here, Orion and I will help you take down the local apex predator. Land and sea must work in tandem if we want to blind the enemy and stay hidden.
Though the ritual had only transported the three of them, they were walking armies. Each carried a pocket dinsion—a portable lair. Once they established a base, they could unleash the invasion force.
Don't worry, Boss. I'll handle it, Kraken replied. God, I just want to dive in right now...
The night deepened.
While the Hellscream cultists dozed in the post-ritual lull, nightmares began to crawl out of Namir Cathedral. Broodmother spiders, hideous and sprawling, skittered into the moonlight.
Simultaneously, draconic beasts erged from the surrounding architecture.
Leonidas had brought three distinct strains: Aerial, Terrestrial, and Aquatic.
These were new breeds, modified by Leonidas's own hand using dragon blood—biological weapons developed after his ascension to Demigod status. This was their first field test.
The Hellscream mbers woke to the sound of claws on stone. Panic flared as they found themselves surrounded by monsters.
But terror turned to rapture when they learned these beasts were gifts from the Envoys.
Before this, Hellscream had been a ragtag collection of criminals and outcasts. Without the power granted by the "Titan God," they would never have dared to challenge the Holy Order.
They were still weak, forced to operate in the shadows. The invasion of Port Caelwyn had succeeded only thanks to Raveth's local knowledge and ticulous planning. Even now, they dared not face the Holy Order head-on, relying on the chaos of the Crimson Fever to provide cover.
User Comments
0 comments from readers