Conditor Imperatoris Zakira of the Bloodmoon.

18th Septara, 1492.

00:00

***

From where I stood so high above, the Great Melbenzar Forest, bathed in the light of my God, looked like… broccoli.

"What does broccoli even taste like?" I mumbled curiously, only to have it sated by a grainy texture on my tongue, spreading a slightly bitter taste across my mouth. "Ugh!" I gagged. "Gross!"

A gust of wind and a small rockfall was the amused response - a strange curiosity to the unwise, but I could hear the distinct snicker of my god hidden within. "Yeah, I don't like it either." The winds whispered his words, guiding my sight as it spread across the lands bathed in Amun's Light, reflecting on those most notable points in his view; and enshrouding the few things beyond his gaze.

Though it had been less than a month since the mid-year event, the residents of Rhar who were so readily cast aside had nearly been evacuated. At least, those who wished to be gone. Those who wished to remain were left to their ends - left to pay the cost of freedom using whatever means they justified. Much to our surprise, many of them seem convinced they could somehow gain the Rharian's favor and thus stayed. Of them, the majority even revered the elves of Rhar. It was an enigma to us all, but our God and Emperor had something to describe it. He called it Stockholm syndrome. Others likened it to madness. Regardless, we tried to convince them. But ultimately, the choice was theirs.

Throughout the mid-year events and our short lessons with the great Necro King, our clones and undead worked beneath the light of our God, guiding those who made the opposite choice through Kelryn and V'eldluiyran Counties to stage in Rauven Land and Hagheridiel Territory for their final approach to either Chaulort, the new Cult of Artifice Temple in the Tri-Point, or up the mountain pass to our temple; leaving those who refrained from liberation in Rhar's Edreth Shire. Now, the rest had been guided to the base of the mountain below, gathered around the gleaming point that was my Prime Executor, Muirenn Snyder. And so, I opened myself to my God with an uttered prayer, if only to detach and become one with his light upon receiving his grace.

It felt like I was a moonbeam falling to the Bodhi Peninsula, widening along with my perspective until I splayed across the mountains, the forests, the hills, the seas, and all other places touched by Amun's light; like a sleeping giant, waking when I blinked to reveal my comparatively minuscule form at my Executor's side. Yet, before the stinging smell of water, the dull scents of earth, and my Executor's musk could enter my nose, my senses were assaulted by a sweet tang; a salivatingly rich aroma that resonated with my spirit on its own accord, highlighting the many pulsing veins and pumping hearts hiding in the bushes made of Caelarin's grace.

"Pray. Use every perk or potion you have." I called out after returning Snyder's salute. "Your blood will still betray you. So know that any movement beyond this point will be seen as an act of aggression. You're now standing beyond your borders, after all."

While there were more blood bags than my nose could detect, I was hardly surprised to see our old classmate Zaos among the seven groups of elven rangers. He stomped forth with a scowl radiant enough for one to think he was in charge, juxtaposed against the indignant sneer of Commander Rokian Heirian, his bow drawn and arrow knocked like his many subordinates scattered throughout the trees. Their points reeked of all things poison, holy water, magic, and divine mana, poised at me and my Executor like beasts in defensive postures ready to lash out at the unknown. Just like back then. But things were different now.

Some things remained the same, however.

"That's a lot of weapons! Wow!" I scoffed in faux-admiration, smiling as their indignant visages shone in Amun's light. "What are we hunting?"

"We stand prepared for your madness, monster!" A nameless elf sneered from behind his bow.

"What?" I recoiled dramatically, turning to him while the echo sang to the horizon. "That's just crazy." I giggled. "I mean, you're not even supposed to be here, so far from home. Right, Commander Heirian?" I turned to him, my tone dropping lower than the shadows. "Zaos?"

"We're here because you have made a strike against us!" Heirian stomped forth with a dramatic flair, his armor glistening in the moonlight as his hand flourished to our surroundings. "Look!" I let my eyes follow his second flourish, seeing only grass and trees; yet, I knew he was talking about what lay beyond. "Nauthe Lake is polluted with necrosis!" He spat. "The type sourced from one place! The same foul sorcery that has plagued the realms for eons! It poisons the land, killing all it touches, as it has always done! But I promise you, monster." He seethed, drawing and pointing his blade at me. "The filth will be cleansed. The residents, the necrosis, and that unnatural presence near the Tri-Point will be cleansed of the Nox's filth by Caelarin's Grace."

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"The… presence you mentioned sits within the borders of Kasia, so that's outside your jurisdiction as well," Executor Snyder said flatly.

I followed her, adopting a more innocent tone in the next second. "And your pleas for clearance should be taken up with the Necro King." I shrugged. "The Legions were acting in self-defense."

"Don't try to play games, vampire!" Zaos screamed from his post, fueling his blood with a pungent cocktail of adrenal hormones that scratched at the depths of my being. I was getting hungry.

"Vampyr." I corrected, calming myself with a gesture to those gathered instead of turning to my old classmate. "These are the last of the Rharian residents who seek refuge from your kingdom. Will you allow them a peaceful withdrawal or not?"

"Others remain." Heirian growled.

"They had no wish to come," I said, meeting his steeling gaze with mine, fueled with crimson power and divine prominence. "We will not force them."

"You will take them!" The nameless elf nearest to his commander sneered. "Or they face execution!"

"And Mani shall shed their spilled blood as a deluge of tears, drowning your precious forest in misery." I prayed.

"Say whatever you like, monster!" Heirian shouted. "You will not leave until they depart with you, or their blood will nourish the brambles that seal our forest evermore!"

"Don't pretend you have the power to keep us anywhere, mortal." I huffed with derision, performing an even more derisive bow. "Unlike you, we are free. And make no mistake." My voice turned grim as I stood to my full height, manifesting my armor, polished to be blinding in Amun's light, to point my gauntleted finger at Commander Rokian Heirian. "Jaimess has promised your king three strikes." I declared, my voice booming against the clouds as the will of my God flowed through me, layering his voice over mine.

"Two times, you Rharians have struck, and now this." Amun declared, my body following his movements from afar in ways that made my spirit cry in reverence. "If you truly consider these residents my citizens, you do so understanding that your declaration of execution serves as the third strike against me and mine. Moreover, you do so knowing that your tasks are important only to you. In life or in death; with or without your enslavement to Caelarin, you will give me your knowledge. But only after the so-called 'Great' Melbenzar Forest has been dismantled; uprooted and processed into the machinations that will spell your torment."

As Amun paused, he willed the vessel that was my body to face Zaos, causing the crimson, predatory glint in my eyes to alight as the grin of my God split my face wide. "And to you, Zaos, who, just like your King, I cannot kill due to your association with the Bodhi Tree, I give a promise. The promise that I'll curse you with something special indeed. A curse that'll give you an intimate understanding of what it means to be called a monster."

My God and thus I cared not for their reaction, for when his will departed from my spirit, my mind remained focused above, following the gesture of my hand and prayer to splay Amun's light across those gathered, where it shined brighter than the combined worlds above, disappearing those baleful things from our sight, replaced a moment later by the inverted skies seen from our temple, high above the Mountains of Rhar.

As Zaos and Commander Heirian turned to their forest, so too did me and Executor Snyder face Nyella, leading the Legion and Order in a welcoming prayer, ushering the new arrivals to lift their eyes to the Mortal Plane below and witness that which those Rharians promised. Their rage of those rescued built with Nyella's as her sermon's opening statement closed, explaining the cost of freedom and the will to take it as the Rharian residents who refused Amun's guiding light be herded and roped. Echoing across the very fabric of the worlds above was Amun's growing indignation regarding Rhar; simmering and roiling, juxtaposed so strongly against the hope of those residents, bursting with illogical fervor, even after being carted like cattle to the outskirts of Khuld and Mugrun, just to the southwest of where we just were.

Even as they passed through those evacuated cities, marched through those surrounding woods, devoid of elves and humanoids alike, the residents believed they had pulled through. They believed they had reached their salvation; their point and place to start anew. Freedom. It was only when those Rharian bows twanged and their arrows bit into their backs did they cry to us for salvation; pray to the gods - to Amun and his Legions - for their lives to be saved. But the Order of Worlds was not formed to save such people; neither was my Legion. Yet, we prayed.

We prayed, pulling a rippling veil of Amun's light over them in ways that made their dying pleas and enraged, betrayed souls echo in the lands on which they were felled; yet those prayers acted not for them. Those people forged their paths through their actions and inaction, born of their own accord. And so, they would reap their consequences, dying in throes of anger and despair.

The prayers of Nyella and the congregation wove that veil of Amun's light into something like a chariot. One that grabbed hold of my divine domain and pulled it across the horizon, opening the realms to the core of arcane blood magic within me. A pull of my hand and the blood lifted, just as it would within me but spread across countless bodies falling by elven blades, spewing forth a crimson shower of blood strings to ascend through the silvery-blue expanse of moonlight. In the expanse above, their hormone-enriched blood merged with the enraged throes of their souls and spirits, entwined into one by the will of my God to pull them away from Death's Door; guided by my prayer to rain on the world above.

From my perspective, shared with my God, I saw the fine grains of white dust on Mani's surface turn pink before crimson pools spewed; blood, gushing onto Mani's pristine surface to bathe the lands of Rhar in its baleful red light. A light so rueful it forced a harsh inflection onto my prayers; a light so foul it raised the mortal husks of the fallen and empowered them to wreak havoc on those who had wronged them - a prelude to the wrath we would invoke for their actions against our God and his Legions. For now, it was time to act.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.