《Maw Mekanika》


 [Prologue] Radiant Victory; 40 years ago

    Her smooth hands grabbed an old book from the shelf. It was the dead of night, an irresponsible hour to put a child to sleep, but nevertheless she wanted to maintain the habit of reading stories. Legends of the past, even though she knew that they weren¡¯t exactly right. It was, in her opinion, going to be more useful than the majority of stories for children in this time and age.


    ¡°Mama!¡±


    The child beckoned, but she wouldn¡¯t turn around. He didn¡¯t have anything important to say regardless. She smiled, in fact, thinking of how far she¡¯s come in all these years. With a delicate motion of the hand- a thick and grand book of history was pulled from the shelf. It had a monotone and brown cover, not inspiring anything particular- and yet it is an appearance many people came to associate with the past and with tragedy. But her son needn¡¯t bother with everything just yet, merely the finale that saved the entire world.


    ¡°Just a moment mama, I¡¯m almost- there.¡± She replied back, it was a game of theirs to call each other mama, regardless of who called for who. Playful, teasing, so childlike. It was fleeting, so it was best to make use of it while it lasted.


    Bringing the book close to the edge of the bed, it was already open at the epilogue. The child looked at the page, already having learnt the configuration of the letters and few images even if they were reversed. He couldn¡¯t quite read yet, but it was a good exercise to help him out. She smiled softly and snuggled closer to her sweetheart, then began reading with a voice as delicate as only a mother could.


    ¡°Thus ends the story of The Crusade¡­ The shining Hero walked through the desolate lands. Each step he took sprung life from the cracks in the ground broken by mortarfire. His chin up and chest facing the skies, a mighty blade was holstered by his side with the Divine Frame on his back. Onward to the doorstep of the Steel Gates¡­¡±


    The sky was dark. A coat covered the fluorescent energy-like skin that covered him. Seemingly made out of light, but even he was pale with this scenery. Periodically, heavy thuds would shake the ground as far as the eye could see. The caws of the scavenging birds filled the brief pause periods between the different steps made by the Steel Gates moving fortress. All was quiet on the Azrathian front. This wasn¡¯t originally their land, rather the capital of Denora. But with such a devastating march wiping away all life, there was no option but to surrender ground and retreat. Had their counter offensive to strike at the old Azrath capital, they would be without land and the war would be over. Thankfully, Adin could not spread his forces thin enough to guarantee world domination in such a short period of time.


    Breathe in.


    The Hero kept moving within the grim and monotone scenery. Wherever he looked the flora was dead. Corpses littered the shattered streets and their stench ensured no other sane living being would step nearby. Who was even left to come here? History, races, all was wiped out. Yet with nothing but duty on his shoulders, The Hero marched on to catch up to the slowed Steel Gates. The Divine Frame was resting on his back- the blueprint for modern guns. What was only a legend was materialized with his arrival and was it not a time of war, then the world would rejoice with a beacon of progress in technology. It wasn¡¯t like anyone but Denora used it really. Humans always hoarded their gear in fear. It was simply how they were constructed.


    Breathe out.


    Lightning occasionally struck the broken rocks that once helped logistics. It was as if the black clouds tried to cover the bleeding sky. No one was certain of day and night; it was always dark above with a red hue ominously announcing the end of the world. Finally, when he got within range of the fortress, he aimed his weapon at the base and fired a hook that would reel him to the ¡°yard¡± of the Steel Gates. Flying would be too taxing and he couldn¡¯t afford losing any bit of energy for this showdown. Everyone was counting on this one final blow directly to the Demonia King. With Doriot¡¯s counter attack failed, this really was their last resort. It almost brought a tear to his chiseled, perfect face.


    ¡°¡­Once he would break through the gates Adin was hiding behind, in one great step he lunged over the vast staircase and marched forward towards the King¡¯s throne. Hate flew out of him, but The Hero was impervious to all his impurity, to all his venom. Solemnly, he drew his sword of light and¡­¡±


    One step forward.


    And The Hero is clearly within the space of the Steel Gates¡¯ yard. It was horrible, to have the memories of those who conjured him. He was a massive man made out of light, magic, hopes and dreams. His body given life through the human nature- it made him mortal as well. All the perfect characteristics that could be wished for by all four races- he embodied them. He was the manifestation of perfection, and yet that wasn¡¯t enough to stop Adin before he enacted his revenge against the rest of the world. For a moment he pondered how well did the Great Tree hold up within Thamaenas. Outside of Kanfaldur that was basically a wasteland for all life, that was their last stand. Denora¡¯s new dominion at the heart of old Azrath was a rising power, but Richard needed more time to set it up properly. Even with Hikari¡¯s help¡­ it was unfathomable how impossibly difficult this whole road was. And to think everything happened within the span of a few short years.


    Thud.


    With one blow, he pushed open the massive doors guarding Adin¡¯s fortress. Or well, what was left of it anyway. On the floor, sitting, crouching, laying, walking around in circles. The few Titans that remained where all exhausted and drained of their powers. When The Hero walked in, they barely moved their heads to acknowledge his presence and kept going with their madness. On his side, there was no hostility either- almost as a gentleman¡¯s agreement. They were conjured as well, only this time it was Adin that invoked and birthed their great power and thirst for malice. But that demonia¡­ he was too intense even for the manifestations of war. About six or so were left standing, less than half of the original Titans. The Hero looked towards Lucifer- their mightiest and proudest fellow. His once colossal frame was reduced to a gigantic one, with the loss and incarceration of different Titans. It was rough and demented, something only a being summoned to this world from another would understand the severity of.


    ¡°A demonia half-blood. Can you imagine? DEAD. They locked her in the body of a STILLBORN child of impure descend. What mockery is this? Even his own people betray him. Adin has gone too far, even we can¡¯t stop him n-¡° Lucifer¡¯s worried and depressed rant was brought to a sudden halt by The Hero¡¯s hand on his elbow- the highest point a huge being such as him could reach without real effort.


    ¡°I know, but she¡¯s being kept alive. A vessel hardly dies, is what I found out. There¡¯s more of them- trapped inside weapons of war and wielded for a few brief moments by whatever weak souls manage to pick them up and fight Adin¡¯s ghouls and some fanatic demonia. It¡¯ll soon be over and you¡¯ll be able to return, this is the final home run towards that end.¡± The Hero reassured his enemy, his charisma exuding and lighting up the place. Even his fluorescent skin began shining ever so slightly with more hope surrounding him. But the cruel truth is¡­ he lied. Have everyone in the world die, he wouldn¡¯t return to his plain of origin. Had Adin died- they wouldn¡¯t find their peace in the Inferno either. This was a necessary lie to strike a stake at the evil¡¯s heart.


    ¡°Then, we¡¯ll do our best. Adin won¡¯t be prepared for you in this state. Just¡­ go and do what you have to do. We¡¯ll see to it as well.¡± Another voice admitted with regret, not wanting to fight Adin out of fear, yet being forced to. For a fiery servant, Mephisto didn¡¯t put much of a fight against The Hero. Even if they were supposed to fight till their last breath under direct orders, no Titan truly wanted to serve Adin anymore. Safe for the one that actually went against his word- everyone else just downplayed their own capabilities towards the end of the war when everything began turning into a desolate land.


    Each giving him a pat on the back, the Titans helped The Hero¡¯s morale and pushed him towards the staircase that led to the Demonia King¡¯s lonely throne. For a castle of damnation, the horror wasn¡¯t all too present. What would go down in history as Hell on Earth, Steel Gates were¡­ lonely. It was puzzling to him, but The Hero didn¡¯t bother much to think about the implications. Instinctively, he already understood that even his foe was at the end of his wits. His eyes closed once more, images flashing to everything he¡¯s been through in his short lifespan. He grew in a year as others did in twenty. His power doubled every day. Hope was fueling his engine and drove the Divine Frame into existence. A weapon that was now all but out of ammunition. The steps felt endless, but eventually he would reach the doors which Adin hid behind. With a deep breath, he pushed them open and felt only emptiness behind their lock- as if something else opened them for him.


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    ¡°It¡¯s over Adin. Your life ends NOW!¡± His powerful bravado flared up the cape and desolate outfit, sparkling fully. The sword of shining light was drawn, expanding to sizes times greater than his own stature. Built on the motivation and hard work of everyone, that blade had all the power it needed to take the life of the King.


    ¡°You¡­ have gotten past my Titans. Satanael and Lucifer¡­ befallen.¡± Adin spoke with a trembling voice and an even shakier hand. It slowly rose towards his adorned crown, grasping it with a weak hand. With one sudden extension, he crushed it to the ground. ¡°It was my FIRSTBORN! ALL OF THE HOUSES. ALL THE ROYAL BLOOD I spilt for their ritual and they have FAILED ME. That was a SACRIFICE. MY SACRIFICE. HOW could my sacrifices not stop the rest of the world? This is how we end up? The Inferno couldn¡¯t suffice me. Even the Titans. They are nothing more than a pile of WEAKLINGS. Even their traitor who turned her back on me¡­ She is the scum of Demon kind! They allowed themselves to get captured, hanged and scorched! I should¡¯ve sacrificed them too in order to create another Vylanir!¡±


    The Hero remained¡­ speechless. His common sense was too great to interrupt the tantrum of an insane demonia, but even then, he couldn¡¯t delay much longer. The moment Vylanir was mentioned and the blade was grasped from the throne¡¯s side, he took one breath and in one leap managed to close the gap towards the throne and ready slice his torso once. Adin could barely react and used pure mana to block out the majority of the slash. A magnificent feat that no mortal soul achieved before.


    But he was all too familiar with Adin¡¯s marvelous feats. Understanding of the world, prowess even in this state, it was as if a Divine being sent him down itself. In response, The Hero rushed a myriad of slashes coming from a variety of directions onto the handle of Vylanir. The excess length of the blade shattered off and created smaller beams in air that shot and pierced the throne, aiming for the king that managed to evade the majority of the blows. He became animalistic, walking on all fours (safe for one hand that held the blade) and leaped from one wall to another. Trying to predict the next leap of the king, The Hero decided to twist his own blade and release a burst of Pure Mana in kind, knocking the remnants of the throne and whatever adorned the room away in a shockwave.


    The Steel Gates shuddered, none of them could afford an endurance battle. That¡¯s when a damning feeling grasped the Hero¡¯s light body. Immobile, he felt Vylanir pierce his chest. Without even realizing it, Adin managed to sneak behind him and deal a dirty blow. Shocked, The Hero knew pain for the first time in a long while. Translucid liquid poured from his injury and mouth, the light in his eyes flickered for a moment before reigniting in flames that overtook the entire room violently. His chest patched back up and he managed to blitz in front of the old demonia, grabbing his whole face with one hand and then pummeling him into a wall. There was rage, even if the initial sentiment was mercy. Everything paled away with his mortality threatened- what it truly meant to be ¡°human¡± after all.


    ¡°You¡­ smell more of demon than human. The Titans¡­ dust isn¡¯t coating you either.¡± The demonia king whispered in his enemy¡¯s ear, using Vylanir to grasp his form once again. It was a weapon against all conventions- something on the scale of the Divine Frame at full power. It bypassed all rules and logic to the world, becoming its own fundament. With another flash, it started draining the light out of The Hero¡¯s form, feeding off it instead of Adin¡¯s years for a few brief moments. A second was all it needed his rejuvenating magic to work its trick and spur him back several decades. The weak ligaments tensed back up. The crunchy skin revitalized. His teeth grew back sharper and his horns honed shinier. With one gut knee, Adin sent The Hero flying.


    ¡°It is a clash of TRUTHS! No one can stop it now. I have unleashed Vylanir into this world and it will find its way back, forever. It will be the stake that strikes at Denora¡¯s heart!¡± Interrupting him in the middle of his speech, the Steel Gates collapsed its legs and finalized its march, crashing onto what once was the outskirts of the Denoran capital proper. Its walls refused to crumble though, as its frame was as impenetrable as it could get. Matter of fact, it was what siphoned the Hero for his magic and restricted him to his natural capabilities. All but Adin and his Titans were suffocated. But, with the help of unseen aid¡­


    ¡°¡­once the battle ended, high in the skies above, The Hero used his last mercy to beg the Gods whose echelons he had reached. Out of his good heart, he begged them for three days and three nights to give us back all that was lost. To aid the world recover from its ashes, to grant Adin a new chance at life- born anew with a pure heart. To seal away all his evil within Vylanir and leave it on their table¡­¡±


    Swing.


    And the last limb of the bestial form was slain. A torso so deformed it could hardly be recognized as Adin¡¯s floated through the cold space, where he and his ultimate enemy held their final clash. The Hero flapped his astral wings and looked down on the disgracious totem of a body. A tear fell down his remaining left eye and hugged his foe with the massive wings of light. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I could not save you. It was that blade, a foreign influence or rather another thing that proved too strong. Let¡¯s¡­ go home. Please.¡± The Hero begged, his eyes tearing onto the bald head of Adin that was laughing maniacally.


    ¡°My demonia will alter history¡­ and you will vanish from Earth¡¯s past. Vylanir! It is Vylanir that I have created. It has been birthed into this world, and it will never go away! The evil that I have brought about has already infiltrated your reality! No one can stop it now! It will unleash that evil¡­ unto the world! Hero¡­¡± But before he could finish his last words, Adin¡¯s heart had stopped. His spirit resided within its carcass still, but it would remain as a prisoner. At the top of the world, where even its Pillars seemed puny, the last tear was shed. The Hero stopped sobbing and looked up to the sun, his tears crystalizing on his now rough cheeks.


    Light up.


    Blazing, the body of the Hero used the majority of its strength to collapse on itself. He forced all of his energy to meltdown and create a new world. Hugging his dear enemy, The Hero began descending at a maddening speed towards the world and landed where now Azrath resided and dug deep, drilling into the ground where he placed the now reshaped body of Adin- designed specifically to portray innocence and kindness. A body that would waste away in no time and allow his soul to move on and recycle through the Great Tree, safe from any kidnapping of the monsters. This affected the geography greatly, and once he rose from the Adian Crater, a supernova was released. A wave of energy so potent it birthed a brand-new Great Spirit of calamity. Thus, a new era of magic was brought about. The world healing at the expense of The Hero¡¯s years. Beaten, but not defeated, he set foot into the new kingdom of Denora and rose it to new heights.


    Following the years, all four continents would proceed to flourish, but at the expense of the past. Denora became a beacon of hope and technology, acting as a main hub for trades and research. Thamaenas, holding the Great Tree essential in the soul circuit was a vast land of nature where the line between the dead and the living was dwindling. Kanfaldur continued to act as the heap of resources and atrocities created by The Abyss. Home mostly to dwarves, their role is vital to the functionality of the world as the disparity of the world concentrated almost all of the natural elements used by the other continents within its mountains and naturally generated dungeons. And finally, the greatest land of them all- Azrath. The place closest to Inferno, everything from its geography to its residents being built with destruction in mind after the fallout of Adin¡¯s rage years later. The crown continues to be passed down among the 4 royal families (of what originally was 73) and the land is avoided by anyone sane enough to care for their own good.


    ¡°¡­and once he descended from the skies on angelic wings, The Hero led us all into a hundred years of peace and glory.¡± She smiled, closing the book. By this time, her son had already fallen asleep. Closing her eyes, Christine lost the jovial excitement of reading for her child. She reconnected with reality and realized the lies that were written. After all, she should know the best. Adin¡¯s true curse wasn¡¯t the hatred he poured into the world, but rather the history he took away from everyone. All the records that weren¡¯t saved in secret areas were destroyed in his crusade against life. Few survivors either went insane or could barely recall what happened. Remaining pieces were reverse engineered into existence and the world hardly managed to return after the tragedy. Everything was set back so much, but it advanced just as much paradoxically.


    ¡°I won¡¯t allow them to reach you. Not one soul. Sleep tightly, for I will be watching over you.¡± Christine thought to herself, feeling the evil presence within her soul threaten the life of her child. It was impossible in her mind, but when has it ever been easy to navigate life? She turned on the safety light and silently left the room, closing the door for her sweet prince to rest and grow with an unshakable character, thirst for knowledge and purity of will. One she could never afford to have.

 [Chapter 1] Gods terrain cover us; 3 years ago

    [The Eye pierced the wasteland, creating a deafening silence of utmost intensity. Shaken to its core, it revealed its mystery]


    Rushing through the fields, a Denoran Soldier held with dear life onto his rifle. The helmet on his head kept banging in all directions, being loosely tied underneath his chin. Sweat was left behind in the rush to reach a safe zone- one of the trenches. Within meters of it, he leaped and hugged the weapon midair, closing his eyes and desperately hoping he would wake up on the ground next to his comrades. A blue fireball hurtled through the skies and illuminated the dimly lit dusk covered fields. It would crash onto the last place the soldier had leaped from, setting the ground ablaze and marking the start of a new siege round.


    For too many months, for a few years now, an agonizing uphill campaign was conducted by the Denoran government to seize fields rich in metals. In order to bypass the already advantageous and low trades with Kanfaldur, the initiative was to outright take the unexplored mine end and work on their own projects with total secrecy. Bad news was that the terrain had been already in heated debates ever since The Crusade came to an end. What was originally Thamaenas¡¯ land came under Kanfaldur dominion from a hasty bargain to cover other lands. At the time, it was a pretty good business maneuver to exploit the trades with the dwarves, but their slow pace wasn¡¯t enough for the rapidly growing Denoran industry nor for the peacekeeping elven intelligence services. In short- it was a subtle war under the incompetent ¡°government¡¯s¡± nose to unofficially claim territory.


    His vision was blurred and his eardrums boomed with a painful buzz. Slowly, the soldier¡¯s conscience recovered. Making out details through the barely opened eyelashes, foggy circles made out an Umbrella Guard violently shaking him back to the land of the living. So much for the medical department.


    ¡°DO. YOU. HEAR. ME?¡± The attrited guard screamed, hoping that the supplies remaining could be preserved for more hopeful and threatening cases. Luckily, the soldier woke up in due time to prevent any needle from stabbing him.


    ¡°Wha¡­? Y-yeah! I¡¯m fine, jeez, hands off man!¡± He started recovering rather quickly, pushing against the upfront and aggressive guard with his own hands, reaching for the dropped rifle and resuming attention to the rest of the trench.


    Close to him were only Onyx Vipers- the lowest of the low. In the military hierarchy, Onyx Vipers were the most numerous and expendable troopers. He himself was a mere Denoran Soldier, not much better than the military police -Enforcers- patrolling the mainland to maintain peace. The man with white and wide plating as well as one barely functional mechanical appendage shook him. He should¡¯ve had a visor and a shield as well as more equipment to support the troops, but the supply had all run out by this point in the war. Umbrella Guards are specialized in all manners of aid- be it technical, medical or on the battlefield to protect its own. Although demanding, it¡¯s not desired nor respected by many due to the love for destruction and its inherent lack in the Guards.


    Other familiar armors that could be spotted around were Prometheus Battalions and Screaming Deaths, the other two typologies of Onyx Vipers. While one used chemical warfare as well as the extensive application of flames for close quarters combat, the other was much lighter and mobile- being capable of low flight as well as thrusters built into their armor frame, fit for anti-personnel and assassination missions. On this front however, all guns needed to be armed, all hands on the trigger and every finger pulling for itself and nine others.


    Conventionally, this front was a hate crime, a punishment and a death sentence for any troop that was detached onto it. What once began as a promising infiltration onto elven superiority territory, through parachuting as well as rushdown of Steel Combines- lightly armed and heavily armored transport carriers, ended up as a one almost fully encircled front. The orders were to keep pushing until all died or the front was won. Nobody really dared to disobey, although some deserters still existed. Unfortunately for them, neither the Elves or Denorans look kindly on them. A silent and gentleman¡¯s agreement to exterminate cowards was made since the dawn of time between all races- if it wasn¡¯t outright part of their war doctrine.


    ¡°Now what?¡± The agitated soldier asked, not really expecting an answer but looking to vent out his frustration onto his brothers in arms.


    ¡°We wait, there¡¯s reinforcement bound to come sooner or later. I¡¯ve heard that there¡¯s a special prototype of the Shock Sect coming to back us up. Artillery so powerful it¡¯ll rock the ground under their feet and give us free pathing through the enemy ranks. It¡¯s not like their golems can pump out mana for all eternity¡­ right?¡± The promethean inquired, appearing rather fond of the instructions from higher ups. There was no real leader on the field, but the strong adherence to the teachings of conflict ensured everyone kept each other in check. It was more of whoever managed to register the information from higher ups and distribute it on the fronts. In lucky cases, it was coming through a direct call or radio message.


    ¡°Oh yeah, the Shock Sect, the one that worked soooo wonderfully on the mountain terrain. I told them- we need a bunch of Rampart Battalions to maneuver around the field! But they just wouldn¡¯t listen! If I was in charge of the initial supply chain, we wouldn¡¯t have it chewed to bits by summoned greywolves! Golems wouldn¡¯t have rumble to build a structure around and those pesky sages wouldn¡¯t have any grass to grow up their arse! You know why? We¡¯d gas them to death that¡¯s wh-¡± The Screaming Death argued, proving his obviously superior understanding and why ¡®screaming¡¯ was so integral to their name. Interrupted by a straight punch from the Guard however, he was pushed back to a wall and began coughing. The lack of plating in their design was tragic.


    ¡°Enough. You can¡¯t change anything and you didn¡¯t even know what the terrain would be like until you¡¯ve pushed deeper into their fortifications. Go on and get upset over our incompetence to shoot them down and then complain about the distribution of arms.¡±


    Chuckling, the Soldier lifted his hands in the air and began laughing slowly, losing his mind. He was going to die. Really, if this was the place he landed in, it was all over fairly soon. In other trenches the situation wasn¡¯t much better. Carcasses of Shock Sects littered the ground under the elven bombardment. There weren¡¯t even archers or close quarters fighters within sight- the sky was raining fire every handful of minutes and occasional hawks scanned through the clouds to gather intelligence and locate incoming ships. Air superiority was a hopeless battle. The air was dominated by long range casters that set up their barriers and talismans to secure a defensive area that covered the entirety of the warfield.


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    The ground was quaking from bombardment and whenever a Sect managed to push through, it was burnt to a crisp and its operators murdered with the use of different, vile spells from afar. An empty tank wasn¡¯t going to siege the enemy properly, much less one already broken down. Every few hours Howling Haulers tried to break through the skies, either the bombardment model or the fighter model, none saw much success. Attempts were made to assault potential seal and scroll holdouts to attrition their spell reserves and break the sky barrier, but it never saw much success. If they managed to unleash their attack to begin with.


    After a solid minute of constant bombardment from a couple hundred meters away, the weather would calm down momentarily. Whoever spent enough time in the trenches to learn the attack patterns and timing of the arcane siege knew that this was the right time to begin advancing once more. Following a plan established a few days ago, the trench with the unfortunate Vipers would jump from its hiding and begin advancing forward. The Soldier was instructed to keep advancing towards a main front line where others like him and the rest of the Vipers unit would be positioned, building up a mass attack. The rest that had the unpleasant experience of standing more that close to the point of contact already had another plan- dismantling and repurposing.


    Synchronised, the Promethean, Screamer and Guard would use short distance radio comms to systematically attack one of the abandoned Shock Sects. What usually is a tank capable of moderate speeds on its railing, a separate module for escalation of difficult terrain and a module dedicated to long distance shelling, was going to be turned into an artisanal mortar. Striking at its main, giant barrel, the Promethean managed to tear it apart while the Guard ensured only the main mechanism remained attached to it.


    ¡°You know¡­ I haven¡¯t seen a tank sealed so proper in a hot minute. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t recon this rigidity being in the base template¡­¡± The Promethean started sweating while using condensed bursts of its arm attached flamethrower guns to cut through the steel structure.


    ¡°It¡¯s not?? What are you on? They SPECIFICALLY made it so that we could detach modules. Just¡­ not in a controlled manner anyway. Just hurry up already, I can see the sky turning blue. I don¡¯t much like that hue¡­¡± The Screamer went on while placing one of his small impact detonating charges onto one of the more reinforced parts of the armored barrel.


    ¡°It was probably the last¡­ seven hours of bombardment that melted parts of the chassis to weld the tank tighter. It¡¯s not going anywhere, but at least it¡¯s harder to crack. Which I guess won¡¯t do much now that it¡¯s out of commission, but you know, you gotta look at the bright-¡± The Guard attempted an explanation while using its extra appendage to apply pressure and burn through the structure and maintain the shell mechanism.


    ¡°SHUT UP NERD. JUST KEEP THIS THING TOGETHER.¡±


    Uncourteously interrupted by his fellow Screamer, the Guard added the finishing touches to the dismantling of the entire firing system, just in time when a slight yet loud explosion of the chassis noted the full separation of the barrel. Without a second to waste, the Promethean forcefully pulled the entire hundred kilogram structure and hurled it into the air with the Screamer riding on top of it.


    ¡°You sonova-... at least warn me before you attempt a stunt like this!¡± Complained further the Viper that shouldn¡¯t be anywhere close to a machine¡­ it didn¡¯t sign up for this. Nobody did in reality.


    With a swift movement, it used its jetsuit to align the barrel mid flight and detonated the charge to get launched directly into the front trench where many more units awaited for the situation to evolve. Part of the plan was to get the artillery in an operational state as close to the front as possible. The only downside is that by the time the mission was a success, the effects of the weld were felt. Most brutally by the Guard and Promethean that remained behind. Looking up to the skies swarming with a blue hue and fiery storm enroute, the hope in both of them disappeared.


    For a moment it didn¡¯t even matter who won and who lost. It all became a hideous joke where there was no real condition for success. The Promethean took off his helmet and disengaged his armored suit, followed by the Guard. Both of them were sweating, bones showing underneath the barely held together skin. Bruised, with blood accumulations in different zones, even their oldest wounds opened up at this point in war. They were fragile, weak, all of their strength consisted of the powered armors.


    ¡°Fancy me one last cigar?¡± The Guard asked, looking at the Promethean using one last swipe of low burn to heat up their final meal. The question was formal, not even needing a response to understand where they were headed.


    ¡°These past three years¡­ they¡¯ve been nice. Who cares about a bunch of rocks after all? Now of all the times.¡± The Promethean asked while his boney hand grasped the brown trunk of the cigar to stick it into his mouth. A tooth fell out, followed by a weak trail of whatever blood was left running in his system.


    ¡°To the bitter end, eh?¡± he replied in kind, staring long at the fuming cigar. His bloodshot eyes dropped a tear onto the heated metal underneath them while the temperature began to rapidly rise. The air was suffocating and the sound without the adaptors of the helmet was horrid, scratching at the eardrums of whoever didn¡¯t have protection. Where did it even come from, it was a senseless question by now. Taking one final smoke, both of their eyes closed as the fireball engulfed the entire area, scorching their skin instantly on contact. Their organs turning to mush and the bones crumbling to ashes. The chassis was invaded by the heat and expanded itself, the stress on the steel forcing it to expand and detonate into a storm of shrapnell all across the battlefield.


    Back there, the Soldier was waiting for them and getting instructions from the Vipers that were present and those who managed to reinforce the line with this reload round. Once they were all caught up to the strategy, it seemed stupid. As part of the most recent reinforcement round a few days ago, the Soldier didn¡¯t get to descend into the madness of warfare as the rest. Bringing long range bombardment so close and exposed to the front line was pure insanity, but what could he tell them now.


    Looking around, this was only reinforced by the muffled moans of injured soldiers resting around in the trench. Taking his helmet off, the sound returned to its full power and the flames alone were enough to cover all the background noise. Wiping sweat off his forehead, the Soldier started walking along the length of the trench to take a good look at those around him. Tears, fractures, blood and guts spread all over the place, yet the frenzy of the push stopped everyone from seeing it. For a moment, all the training from before this mission crumbled to nothingness. His legs began shaking underneath his frame. No shouting would manage to get him back into the state of combat, no slaps would put him back to sleep when¡­


    When the cannon finally arrived at the trench line in a dynamic entry. The steel structure crushed however many troops were at the edge. It landed conveniently facing towards the sky with its loading mechanism behind, down in the trench. Only the tip of the barrel stuck out threateningly towards the elven lines. Only downside was that the ground turned red from the crushed corpses.


    At that point, the Soldier put his helmet back on and ceased to think. His soul was numb and hands cold. At that point, he had managed to lose his individuality just as the rest and they began loading together whatever shells were hoarded over the past few days. Loading them nonstop into the cannon, the artillery never stopped firing. Round after round a line traced towards the main front of artillery golems.


    [The Eye beheld, looking down on their existence and with overwhelming tension¡­]

 [Chapter 2] Hounds of War; 3 years ago

    [One blink, everything changes its course]


    Time was passing by and the soldiers kept pumping shell after shell into the cannon. They worked together, acting as a mechanism of flesh. There were no words exchanged, no looks and no complaints. All was silent in the trenches when the general sentiment of damnation struck the entire made-up division to apply their most raw training. When one part was moved, another was inserted. For as long as the shells were within the stockpile- they worked until they dropped.


    Were one to fall on duty, his place would be immediately taken over by another Viper. Promethean, Soldier, Guard, Screamer- who cared? They were nothing but cogs in the great war machine, fueling the efforts of the loved ones at home. That was their doctrine, the hope that kept pushing everyone into a trance whenever shit hit the fan. Dawn began to shine through the dark clouds, but even a full sun wouldn¡¯t illuminate the corpse littered grounds. Elves, Denorans, even offshoot Demonia bands that ran away from their Emperor¡¯s reign.


    On the contrary, back in the lines of the oppressors, Elves remained tranquil. In their very own trance where spirits were invoked and used to conjure their strength through natural materials or on rare occasions to force them into outright existence. Overlapped realms, yet there was a clear barrier between them offered by the Great Tree back in their mainland. It was through that very tree¡¯s existence that they acted and felt as one. All Elves were intrinsically connected to one another. Zafiro, the appointed commander, was on the front with his kind to guide them through meditation. A true sage and guru to those who aimed at communion. He had ventured more through the spirit realm than the current Prince.


    ¡°Hold on to the golems; it¡¯ll be harder to reestablish the link if we let them crumble. I want the line to leave room for their shells. You know the positions¡­ I don¡¯t have to tell you anything further¡­ A storm is coming.¡± Teishi said as he made haste to grab ritualistic elements and set up a doll.


    He spoke, a tall and skinny man. He wasn¡¯t particularly imposing, his frame wasn¡¯t awe inspiring or terror inflicting. A gentle man, with long and dark hair that always seemed to be littered with leaves and tree branches. His robes were revealing ribs and skinny arms, with a wooden sword loosely tied to his waist. Charms adorned his twin colored robes- black and a light blue. He didn¡¯t wear any sandals and didn¡¯t seem to tidy himself often. Yet his stance was impeccable and tidy- being offered respect he never demanded. Yet nobody decently competent believed in his apparent passive nature.


    The suspicions of Commander Teishi were right- although slowly running out of ammo, the Denoran Army was soon going to make a breakthrough. It was already terrible enough that all they were equipped with was the post-Crusade stockpile, but the attrition and unfavorable terrain was actively holding them from making real advancements. Even then, orders were orders. None could be belayed by anyone, especially since there wasn¡¯t a commander of their own present on the field. Rudimentary radio equipment was all that they were equipped with, not that far from their top tier technological advancements in the absence of a Gravitational Slingshot.


    But there was one element, one single hair of hope that the entire battlefield clung to- War Hounds. Legendary, top tier soldiers that were almost irreplaceable. Once the constant fire support of the Golems halted for a brief moment to reposition, a dark cloud emerged from the skies. Not birds, not rain, but an overwhelming amount of smaller jets charging straight into enemy dominated air territory. Howling Howlers would violently fly through the mana irradiated air and begin crashing into the locations that intelligence marked down as high potential for talisman emplacements.


    Orders came through the headsets of different inmates strapped to the planes as pilots. They hardly had any knowledge in how piloting worked- but they didn¡¯t have to know anything. Their task was simple: suicide bomb into the enemy weakpoints to clear a path for the actual pilots and the ¡°special cargo¡± they transported. There wasn¡¯t a warning, a hint or clue of the swarm invading, it was all gambled away rather than planned by the Director himself. The one behind all military operations, the one whose gambits and wits remained outmatched by the entirety of Denora. Just as he had predicted weeks ago, the planes would go down in flames and hardly manage to strike the targets, but that was more than enough to offer the allies an opportunity to advance.


    The sun began to shine through the burning clouds- rays of gold falling onto the dazed soldiers that beheld everything from the ground. While looking at the allied planes going down in flames, eroded in the air, shot down by enemy spells from a distance or crashing and unleashing violently into the hills, soldiers began to return to their senses, only to feel terror. The explosions and alarms going off were enough to wake anyone up from a trance, but the view was so horrific that some couldn¡¯t even bear to witness. Though all would change with a familiar trampling in the distance and a similar tune echoing through the skies. From behind, reinforcements would arrive and the anthem of Denora would play up in the clouds from a partially concealed ship that carried the ¡°package¡±. This time, proper Gravitational Slingshot equipment was used with the rudimentary weaponry all but exhausted finally. With Shock Sects, more Vipers and even the long sought after Rampart Battalions coming from behind, soldiers began to have their spirits lifted. Inside the invisible ship, a dashing captain donned the helmet to his power suit and began strapping onto the launch pod.


    ¡°Alright lads, this is just cleanup duty. Expect in the worst case scenario Verbannung Elves. I personally don¡¯t think any particular elites will pop out besides the general bandits, but this gets me rid of any of you dying without knowing this would happen.¡± He smiled, sealing into the helmet. Not for one second did he believe anyone would die in this mission.


    That young man was Elias Xavier- the leader of the War Hounds special operations squad. His hair was his most prominent feature besides the strong facial features. Despite being one of the top military positions, he was not forced to keep his hair short, rather was allowed to wear it in a slim and slight ponytail down his back. Strange markings were crossing his cheeks and arms, complementing his glowing yellow eyes. His body alone was a testament to the true power man could achieve, but something about him was odd in the public¡¯s view. Some thought him to be an illegal magic wielder, some believed he was one of the first bio engineered super soldiers that had rumors flying about. Nevertheless, to all he was a national hero that led a squad of four other top tier soldiers into battle.


    With the anthem blasting about, launch pods were fired from the camouflaged ship as the field of magic was fading away, marking the success of the suicide bombers. Flying through the air, the metal cages landed on different locations. Straight into the front line, a giant armored monstrosity of a man- supplied with shields and mechanical appendages armed with various machetes, spread pallet Slingshot guns and gadgets that weren¡¯t even comprehensible to the average footsoldier. The War Hound marched on while setting up a wall- physical and energetic to defend those behind him. Heavy steps quaked the trenches and crumbled the ground, cracking it beneath. Steam blew from armor vents and began heating up engines built into its frame as defensive concealed guns began to reveal themselves, opening up the bulwark armor and showcasing what the peak of defensive engineering could achieve.


    In the back, a lightly armored figure with canisters and caches of drugs jumped straight into the trench, dispersing a strange gas with a lightly green hue. Medicine in Denora wasn¡¯t particularity advanced, hardly managing to merge man and machines. Lacking the magical component that all the other races had at their disposal for rejuvenating magic, the solution was developing chemicals that could take away pain and supplement bodily functions. Although fleeting, the effects were maximal when used at War Hound grade, tales of raising the dead from their grave spreading across battlefields as well. Working with nothing short of perfect efficiency, the ¡°medic¡± managed to set up drones and put back together plenty of soldiers before having to resynthesize its fuel even once. It wasn¡¯t particularly efficient for battle- offensive or defensive, but the support focus was unmatched.


    Farthest from the point of combat, without even being present on the ship, a lonely War Hound would bring up a long and esoteric rifle. Vastly different from all the other weaponry from the infantries, it would bear something closer to a rail gun. Different locks began popping open, a barely visible purple field bending along the length of the barrel. What usually was invisible, began to take form in such a concentrated space. Gravity Slingshots were more than a military and futuristic concept- it was a religion. From the dawn of time man had grasped the original Divine Frame¡¯s principle. After years of efforts, it was realized as a trick of gravity not fully understood, but that could be implemented into any machine to compensate for anything if used creatively enough. Being able to use anything for a bullet and release it with power unmatched by conventional engineering, it was also the graveyard of revolutionary discoveries, having people grow lazy and reliant on them- as such, electricity never reached its full potential and medicine is still a testing grounds for this universal answer to all problems. Nevertheless, the sniper aimed down the sights and fired a beam that seemingly tore through the atmosphere itself, reaching its target instantly. The aim was for the slightly revealed head of a Golem, instantly shattering it and signaling the beginning of the counterattack.


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    Lastly, directly into the enemy lines, Elias and one last War Hound landed. It was equipped with mostly white armor, the War Hound had moderate plating and plenty of built-in jets for mobility. With a strong accent on its mechanized and heavy aspect, it didn¡¯t excel at anything but total destruction. Effortlessly, it leaped from one Elf guard to another, punching right through blades that couldn¡¯t pierce it. Whenever distance was attempted at being created, it would use one of its various mounted weapons to engage fleeing enemies or overture its engines to catch up and crush into a pulp whatever turned its back. Equipped with everything Denora had to offer, ranging from flamethrowers and guns to slight chemical warfare in the form of drugs and deadly gases, it was the white its armor shared with Elias¡¯ that made the aggression possible. Why the two of them were fighting ahead of the rest and the one who was focused on defense ensured infantry could pick up the pace and join the maneuver.


    The Soldier that hours before had given up hope, found himself brought back from the brink of insanity. His gaze fell onto the medic¡¯s silhouette, mistaking it for an angel. Recovering from the war frenzy, his hearing returned and everything became as clear as it could have, although explosions and sirens were still blurred out by the anthem. Salvation had come and tears started flooding his eyes. A smile so wide it looked ridiculous appeared on his face as he fell to his knees, grabbing desperately onto the leg of his savior. His heartbeat boomed in his eardrums and every inch of his body was bursting with joy. Getting up from the ground and grabbing his rifle, he gazed into the sky as the night they endured was worth it, for the daylight they awaited. Close by, the sound of rumbling intensified as modern Sects took a hold of the ground and began arming their barrels into artillery mode. A claw dug into the ground beneath and after a short process fabricated its own shells from unconventional materials, firing them into the sky with force that would turn anything into a flying bomb. Mobilized Sects started rolling ahead, soldiers clinging to their tracks and chassis as they passed by trenches, hopping onto convoys and rushing on. Chimera Forges- engineers and mechanics that took part in construction at home and on the battlefield arrived as well, beginning to assemble a giant iron hunk directly onto the battlefield, not a good sign for any enemy.


    With war screams unanimously escaping everyone¡¯s mouths, they left their hiding spots and picked up rifles- theirs, their friends¡¯, whatever was on the ground was up for grabs. A burst of hope exploded within their hearts, eyes full of tears while charging onwards towards what seemed like certain victory. Shining, tall mechs marched on alongside the tanks and convoys carrying few soldiers into the battle, while swarms of allied fighters began darkening the now uncontested air. Each step of their boots now was worth it, for three years they held on and on this day it would make a breakthrough, truly a moment that would make them forget all of the pain endured and all of the madness suffered so far.


    "Vereinigung, arm yourselves! Mana blades, bows, spears, whatever you can find. Invokers force them into a bottleneck, ruin the ground beneath them. I want the Valkyries up in the skies, Hawks, everything!¡± Zafiro began to raise his tone, shattering the initial illusion of frailty. He realized the importance of the War Hounds¡¯ presence and accelerated the process of preparing the doll. ¡°Even the Verbannung¡­!¡± He demanded in a grim tone, allowing the volunteer forces to take part in the defense of the ground, even if they severed themselves from the Great Tree¡¯s connection.


    Elves began arming themselves, picking up weapons and shields to form a front line that would grab a foot and play a defensive war against the heavy superior firepower of the humans. Verbannung shifted into the spirit realm and would begin charging towards the enemies, being essentially outside of the real world until they traversed. Stealth fighters, traversing a world accessible only to elves, the Verbannung had their own military rankings and divisions, but were often shunned and reduced to their race¡¯s name regardless of their specialization. As such, blades, bows, specialised ritual weapons, whatever they used they were all just Verbannung- strong meat for the grinder that the Vereinigung used maliciously outside of their home¡¯s safety laws.


    Riding on top of what could only be described as armored dinosaur-like creatures, Valkyries would take flight and join the combat against the air dominance of the humans, with great hawks and flying spirits inhabiting and augmenting animals coming to their aid. Realistically, the Elven power was on the ground with other means of combat being encompassed by that ground support. As such, it was invokers that conjured elements- most often fire, to scorch away Denoran flyers from the sky. More experienced ones would take advantage of storms and call down thunder, taking out several fighters in one smooth weave of the staff. A wall of arrows would begin to form in the back of their lines, assaulting both the sky and the ground, a challenge that Denorans had to face every time they went on a dogfight against the Thamaenas. Unfortunately, this had escalated into a war hidden by the media on both ends, usually news and information leaking out only once a side had won.


    As soldiers would rush to reach air to ground batteries and unleash bullets into the air to aid their planes, the air became an indistinguishable mess of life, machine, energy and death constantly changing, exploding and going down in flames for both sides. The skies would once more darken with smoke and block out the majority of the dawn¡¯s sunlight, thrusting everyone into blind combat. Vines would sprout from the ground and create artificial walls, an enforced asymmetric battlefield within purpose but to halt the advances of the motorised battalions. Bottlenecks were created and Prometheans as well as specialised Sects would unleash their flamethrower blaze to burn through the barricades, although at a lower efficiency due to the inherent magical nature of it. It took quite a while before the close quarters units of the elves were engaged by the soldiers, whose weapons began to have lower efficiency against the reinforced shields. Less distance meant less power lost on the imperfect Slingshots, as well as a tank running over the forces directly- both were good enough to force a closer approach to the shield line.


    In the backline, from where Golem assault ceased its onslaught, the Warhound assisted by Elias kept fighting against the majority of the Verbannung forces and units trained to guard the core of the army. The Assault would chase down the elves whose determination wavered the most, bursts of its jets sending it flying across the battlefield and flying its knee directly into the enemy skull, shattering it on impact. Landing in a spinning kick, the jets would flare once more and create a blaze that would get turned briefly into a hurricane that kept the foes from closing in while vulnerable. Before the smoke could clear, its arms began shifting and altered to machine gun barrels, unleashing fire onto the farthest elves that struggled to track it down and aim. It was the pale nullite covering its plating that offered it such efficiency against magic and caused its signature to be almost undetectable by magic senses. Locking onto different targets, it unleashed flares from its wrists and continued firing down on the terrorized Thamaenas.


    Elias was much more methodical in his approach to warfare and less sadistic, fighting not for pleasure, rather out of duty. An ace at what he did, he would rather use weapons that he had on himself instead of built-in ones, it offered a more modular approach and prevented any accidents from occurring, such as jamming. Although he still used bullets, explosives and close combat to fight against the majority of his foes, he had a strange lightning affinity unexplained- was it machine, was it a gift for magic, none could tell really. It was however thanks to his efforts in the Crusade and following aid to the nation paired with The Director¡¯s sympathy that not only allowed him to serve, but to prosper as well. With a stomp of the foot, he would set up an invisible web underneath him, then backstep and allow enemies to chase him into the traps that triggered and shocked them. It was those brief periods in which he used usually one bullet to pierce the available weak points. He described it as time slowing down, as the ability to see opportunity in chaos whenever he had success with his lightning strikes.


    Spirits would rise from the ground and materialize, inhabiting the remains of the elves, animals or the inanimate objects to create their own amalgamated bodies and wage war against the invaders. Some spirits trespassed directly into the realm of the living, something one could explain only as mana beyond what was considered pure. Their bodies were more like controlled explosions that took the shape of animals most often, but strange and mythical creatures would emerge sometimes as well- with tentacles, several limbs and indescribable masses of abnormal silhouettes.


    Elias knew that the elves never really reached the peak of their spellcasting, but the more he looked at the spirits, the more he unconsciously grasped onto the understanding of these beings. Regardless, he would employ the same baiting tactics and force his enemies into traps before using either special nullite rounds or lightning to dispatch them, while the Assault Warhound could only deal with the physical elves, which was proving more troublesome with the proper intervention of the Verbannung attacking at awkward angles and disappearing before a chance of counter attacking was given. It was a slow crawl to grind out enemies, but it would come to a sudden halt with a burst of mana from a blue circle established a while ago by Zafiro.


    ¡°O, Tree. Awaken, Embody, Impose, Oppress. Irene; Catastrophe Embodied.¡± The man would chant, raising the doll into the skies and allowing it to take the shape of the Great Spirit, becoming a proper Effigy that used its abilities to a limited extent. Usually, Zafiro was capable of Silent Casting as a prodigy of the new generation¡¯s awakening, but there were many rituals that even he couldn¡¯t grasp the gist of. Especially for Irene, it was already impossible for anyone so far to conjure a Great Spirit without the full ritual. On Her especially, it was particularly difficult. Though he believed it would be enough to rush the ritual and use a botched doll to create an already faulty Effigy. If only he had more time and preparation¡­


    [Fronts clashing head on; Warriors of Legend facing each other in glorious combat; The Eye blinked once more as the memory came close to its finale. It learnt much, it envisioned the story and began to etch it into its great and vast memory]