Asreal

‘’How long do you think we have to wait?’’ Yami, my beastkin partner asks spinning his staff about unable to keep still.

‘’Not long, another ten-day max I’d estimate,’’ I shrug. The sketch of the wall under the bright night coming along nicely, I’ve done several angles now each more imposing than the last.

‘’That’s a long time. The way they mowed through the Hito I expected they’d be here by now.’’

Yami is fidgety, ‘’no fighting in the camp Yami.’’ It’s always best to remind him any place there is a no fighting rule in place otherwise he causes trouble.

‘’That’s a stupid rule, especially since we don’t even know how long we’ll be here waiting.’’

‘’It’s only been 4 days, relax and enjoy the company and food.’’

He shrugs, ‘’I’ll go find a lady friend.’’

I wave him away with a sending finishing the shading of the misty blackness into which the wall sinks into. There, all done.

Blowing the chaff away I roll up and disappear the sketch into my ring. I set a pipe to burning, greeting those that greet in passing but otherwise relaxing under the stary night canopy waiting for a fight. There is an ex excited bustle of activity all about the camp even in these dark hours. Barbarians, Sandersorians, Hito, Fae, Dwarves and peoples from all across the continent gathered here to face an invasion.

It amazes me how far these people have come especially looking at that monster of a wall they built in seemingly no time at all, the Mountain Wall a feat of engineering.

The wall is a 80m tall fortress stretching from the roots of a mountain at one side to the roots of a mountain over 12km away. Each block of stone used in the construction individually enchanted and the blocks together make a pattern that is in itself completes a mega enchantment of impressive engineering. From the same Barbarians that couldn’t Awaken to mana less than 40 years ago this has been produced. I’ve done 6 sketches of the wall now under different lighting, it keeps amazing me.

‘’Ah, friend Asriel.’’ The chief of the Scavengers says signing in greeting as he comes within sight.

‘’Bjork the Hammer,’’ I greet welcoming him to my little fire amongst the multitudes of thousand little fires scattered all across the valley.

‘’A good omen that I see you this night, surely we will dance with death this night, that fickle bitch.’’

Hehehehe, he giggles hefting his large pole-axe about, showboating his power and control. I spot the others of his retinue about the tents around us, the best warriors from his tribe.

‘’The waiting before a fight can be difficult.’’

‘’Difficult?’’ hehehehe, ‘’one of my cousins gets the shits every day we wait. It hits everyone different, I walk the camps. It helps keep me calm and ready, always in armour with an axe in hand when you walk the camps.’’

He taps his breastplate, pulling up his middle finger at me indicating his storage ring.

‘’You seem excited for the fight.’’ The Barbarian chief is practically jittery with excitement, armed with his artifact poleaxe as long as he is tall, two artefact short swords at his waist, two throwing axes and the enchanted breastplate he looks like he was born in.

‘’Yes, this will be good battle.’’ He takes a deep breath as he comes to one knee by the log I’m sitting on, he’s a very large man the chief of the Scavangers. A 3rd tier king in his power, playful and deadly is his aura at the same time.

I nod, ‘’it will be a good fight. I didn’t know the tribal chiefs would be part of the frontier force.’’

‘’I am the only chief fighting, most of the others will watch how the invaders fight first. It is our way to make the old veteran warriors that are experienced but past their prime to fight first, those ready to die so their deaths teach the living the lesson of how to fight the enemy.’’

‘’You’re an Awakened King and so are all the warriors in your retinue, surely you are still far from 'past your prime'.’’

He grins a toothy grin, ‘’okay you got me I’m just dying for a fight.’’

I laugh at his playfulness taking the drink he passes to me as I pass him the pipe.

‘’Enjoying the wall?’’

I find myself nodding again, ‘’it’s impressive the things your people have built here in so short a time. How quickly you have adopted to things is very impressive, and the way you have grown yourselves.’’

‘’We got lucky friend Asriel,’’ he sits on his ass on the ground poking a stick in my fire. His retinue are amongst the fires and the shadows all about, we have a respective illusion of privacy.

[VHRUUUUU!]

The blast of the war horn gets inside my head heating my blood for action as it spreads a similar effect like a wave through the camp waking everyone to alertness. Everywhere warriors get to their feet unsheathing weapons, summoning blades and shields in a synchronous symphony of a hundred thousand weapons across the vast battle camp.

‘’Squads form!’’ the sending comes from the Commanders. Everyone ready, jumping into movement as squads form quickly all along the 200km of valley that is the prepared battlefield of the first fight.

My zanpakuto is in hand, stamped down with the pummel grounding me.

It’s all activity for several heartbeats then slowly loudening silence as everyone forms with whoever is closest. We wait, ready to move depending on the next orders to come, thousands of us wait. Waiting for the drama of the pre-fight already ready to swing our weapons.

I spot a few of the invaders high above the wall, flying with worrying ease though we have our own aerial force. The air above the wall shimmers as one gets too close.

"People of Gaia, you have the honour of being before the Moya clan of the Bantu-jin people of Velaria. We have come to take what you cannot keep, woe to you for you have become resources for us to reap. Despair, for your weapons and ways are abominations that must be purged from the worlds. Lay down and accept death, for your end is inevitable."

The invaders start speaking, demanding surrender.

A single person picked and empowered from the best archers that could be found it the whole army steps forward. The spell matrix on her platform empowering her as she hefts the zanpakuto stringing an arrow.

I don't see it fly but it hits before the cracking sound of its flight claps the air.

The War Archer shoots the first arrow at the invading leaders, succeeding in getting first blood at a leader, the War Archer’s blessing of Kwala Yankha’s zanpakuto activates. Depositing the blood of the opposition general to be mixed with our generals the Great Working of the Soul Prisms activates.

‘’Endless Tide,’’ the call comes through sending.

‘’Endless Tide,’’

‘’Endless Tide.’’

The strategy is called out unnecessarily across the camp, the Barbarian chief beside me grins like a fox in a henhouse. ‘’ It's Endless Tide boys and girls," there is glee in the Scavenger chiefs eyes at the successof plan A. "No holding back!’’ He shouts as all hell breaks loose.

[BOOO!], the air barrier above the wall is broken by a single assailant.

A bantujin alien stomps flat an armoured warrior as it lands from the sky amongst a squad of fighters, blood flows. The silver faced aliens start landing wrecking havoc even as they are bombarded by sizzling attacks that shatter the air with their might, sword, spears axes barely graze the invaders. Shield and hammers obstacles in a warrior’s way more than impediment for the invaders as they smash through shields and armour with ease. Our warriors throw themselves in coordinated sacrifice forward as the invading apparitions move amongst the camp destroying squad after squad in fast-paced barehanded slaughter.

Seemingly impervious to wounds the invaders move forwarding swathing their way through the squads yet blasted by many a killing blow that barely slows them. The night is immediately filled with the scent of blood as it sprays through the air, the Rage coming upon many Barbarians around me. The rage effect spreading as the drums incite battle lust into all of the armies.

I keep track of one of the silver faced aliens with spatial awareness as it gets close.

‘’Time to kill,’’ my zanpakuto shimmers. The ends of Erazor shiver as it transforms from a flat staff into cutting-edged naginata with Shikai release.

[TLAAA!]

In a spray of brains and blood, something moves amongst us, Afterimage while activating the supreme ability of my soul-weapon, Lacuna. Matter is erased through the air the blade cuts through, the silver bantujin moves faster dodging even while breaking through two warriors. I swerve the slash into a stab as the energy exhausts, stabbing a wound in its arm that erases flesh, its bashed from the back by a hammer of force that sends the hanging arm flying.

I lose an arm, a leg, I’m flying through the air computing what just happened to me the pain not having kicked in yet. Fuck, that fast.

I roll in a heap on soft soil and flesh, shivering as cold starts seeping into exposed bones. I can’t feel my legs but I crawl with my remaining arm, pulling myself over a body trying to get out of the way of the fighting but the alien is gone before I can get clear, moaning and gurgling of blood all that’s left of the squad of warriors that was facing it.

The gurgling is coming from Chief Bjork, his entire body shaking as blood spouts from his throatless neck. The Rage has his eyes pinpricks but is he, is he laughing?

I check myself, discovering the hole in my chest, feeling where my spine is broken with my hand. Cold darkness pulls me down.

*

Theodor Sanderson

‘’Highness, the off-worlders have come,’’ Ambassador Olando says as he’s escorted into the suites as the last piece of the king's armour is strapped on. This set much more than a decorative treasure.

‘’Yes I know I heard the horn Olando,’’ father snaps. He adjusts the seams a bit, taking a last look at his reflection before turning indicating with his hand.

We move. A procession of royal guard surrounding their king as he marches across the building to an atrium where the guards remain behind. The king, ambassador and I step into the large balcony serving as a guest gallery overlooking a huge rectangular screen that shows the slaughter taking place a thousand kilometres north of here with perfect startling clarity.

‘’My gods,’’ father says seeing the wreckage wroth by the attacks of these invaders.

I swallow my tongue as I dispel my own surprise, releasing my hand from my pummel we join General Zuko, Lieutenant Commander Haines and Archmage Lorn as they watch the slaughter unfold.

‘’We can’t stop that majesty,’’ the general whispers to the king. His knuckles white against the rail as he watches the slaughter on screen unblinkingly.

Blood joins the mists as people become viscera.

The night is quiet as we watch less than two dozen people slaughter their way through thousands. Never have I even imagine a slaughter of this magnitude yet here I am now witnessing it with my own eyes, not just me but thousands of others in the city streets and on similar balconies watching their comrades die in droves for paltry reward.

‘’How many warriors do we have fighting in that mess general?’’

‘’We contributed 25 000 majesty,’’ Lord Zuko says with a shake of his head. The high general doesn’t take his eyes off the screen, I can’t blame him. There is something about watching people die this way that’s obscene but I keep watching, bile rises and retreats. We really can’t fight this.

This is no fight, this is a slaughter. The invaders are merciless, unstoppable as they splatter 2nd and 3rd tier warriors about. The defenders are stalwart, insane in their unceasing resistance against enemies practicallyinvulnerable to magic or blade.

"They can die," it takes a while but one after another the invaders fall. Overwhelmed by the persistence and zeal of the suicidal defenders.

Eventually all the invaders but 4 are killed at the cost of thousands in exchange, it’s not sustainable. Our way of life is finished as we know it but that man 066 advised against surrendering, to surrender would apparently lead to a fate worse than this for our people. Worse than being slaughtered like hapless infants in a battle with veterans.

‘’How many more warriors have we pledged?" King Magnus knows the numbers but he asks anyway, thinking as he reassess.

"Another 75 000 warriors to be here within 3 days highness. 250 000 mastering to defend our home.’’

The remaining invaders wade through people and attacks like a scythe through a field.

‘’Think they’ll make a difference or are we wasting our strength after what you’ve just seen?’’ The king’s tone is cold, distant. He’s very disturbed by what he just witnessed.

It’s one thing to hear about an existential threat, to actually see it... The slaughter happens quickly, littering the field with the dead and dying throwing themselves at the invulnerable invaders like madmen.

The general looks away from the screen for the first time, his head shaking. ‘’Highness-‘’

‘’Look,’’ old man Lorn says indicating the screen.

A spectral tree glorious in its majesty lights up the night along the wall with a radiant nature. I gap as the broken bodies of people start getting up, healing from wounds liable to have killed lesser warriors. All across the field bloody wounds atrt closing, cracks skulls mending, broke bodies being pulled back together under the light of that towering tree.

All our chins drop as the recently dead start rising, dazed but somehow alive again in unholy order. The city square comes alive with a thundering roar of victory as powers light up the city sky in stupefied joy.

We can win this, the sentiment infants the people as they watch utter devastation being reversed in a few planar spells.

Archmage Lorn hacks out a crackling laugh, greedily rubbing his boney hands together. "They have a revival planar spell, did we negotiate for any of their war spells?"

"The negotiations have yet to be concluded," the Ambassador says aslo surprised but taking the situation in easiest.

"Excellent," old man Lorn's decicated face reveals bone white teeth.

*

Zero Six-Six

I can’t relax so I walk the city streets watching the natives preparing weapons, exercising, drinking and fucking throughout the districts and the parks. The people here look very different from one another but the different populations of people are small enough they don’t overwhelm each other. It’s strange for me seeing hoofed beings interacting with humanoids like this, this doesn’t happen in Valeria.

It takes me a few hours of walking and Blinking to explore the whole of the city, the exploring helping ease some of my anxiety about tomorrow.

I’m the first in line for what they call ‘soul-forging’ tomorrow as per the agreement the Sandersorians have made. I will go through a process to get an object made from a piece of my soul, I shake my head at that. An object which can imitate a functioning Core for all intents and purposes and I’m bursting with excitement yet terrified something will go wrong.

This city has done much to take my mind off things with how quaint it is, I’ve been observing people training with their soul-objects most of which are cutting weapons. Swords, knives, spears and the likes. They-

[VHRUUUUU!]

A horn blow fuelled with manna scatters at the edge of my personal domain. I let it in as I notice the effect of instant alertness its having on everyone throughout the city. My own blood heats as the horns effect excites my own blood to boiling, that's the war horn I dread. Couldn't all this shit started after I have a soul object made?

I follow the masses as they congregate at the open square between the districts and markets where a spell screen 20m across shows the front lines where my cousins face down an army of thousands. Fuck, they’re here before I get my soul-object! The outburst of cheering takes me from my gloom as I notice that someone was able to injure Luvuyo.

It’s gonna be a slaughter and I won’t get my Core.

Amongst the people in the streets I watch the battle unfold as I had predicted for the Sandersorians. Luyolo is here, that’s a concern but I’m more surprised all 5 of my cousins are fighting at the same time, they must be pressed for time now.

The locals throw themselves valiantly at my cousins, the sheer numbers wearing down some of the faceless as the natives keep attacking even as they get slaughtered. A faceless goes down under a deluge of attacks after having killed hundreds of warriors on its own.

Time moves slowly in a fight and this even slower still but the native’s fighting spirit doesn’t break.

My cousins slaughter without remorse killing thousands within the first 30 minutes of the battle. Using superior skills and tempered chi bodies they ignore wounds and many attacks that land solidly cause minimal damage but soon they start slowing down as the damage accumulates. In a madness I haven’t before seen in sentient beings the people keep throwing themselves forward regardless of the clesr difference between them. Thousand of defenders and they're strategic about it, in groups of 20 or less reducing how much they’d otherwise get in each other’s way, dying but fighting none the less.

The Faceless go down one after another to the mad consistent aggression of the defenders.

A pillar of flame burning through my cousin taking one of my most dangerous enemies off the board. They've lost a lot of people but I can’t believe they’re actually winning.

My cousins retreat as the last Faceless falls, disappearing into the night as silently as they arrived in what was only an hour or so of concentrated fighting. I’m in awe, mortals driving away a group of cultivators is not something I’ve ever even heard of before. I should have recorded that in a memory crystal.

[VHUUUU!]

The sound of the horn is like a cool breeze dousing the fires in my blood.

[HAAAA!]

HAAA!

Hhhhh!

The spectating natives brandish their weapons to the sky shooting bright blooming powers as they celebrate their victory. Costly in life but truly a victory to be proud off even though it means nothing in the greater scheme of things it’s hopefully bought me enough time to go through the forging.

Then I’ll have a debt to pay to Magnus, the Sandersorian king. I let the excited aura of victory infect me, soon I'll have a Core.