The research teams assigned to Fazba Hold focused on soul containment rather than separation. The reason for was simple: it would be worthless to separate soul from body if the soul simply escaped. Sheep were used for experimentation originally, although they proved to be rather poor subjects. Sheep were unable to gibe any report on progress being made. As the situation of the surface war became more dire, the cargo rail running into Fazba exchanged its carts for livestock with carts for people instead.

Dwarves and humans proved much better test subjects. Whereas at first there was thought that an issue would exist with the supply of fresh souls, the various sects dedicated to dragons: from riders to priests, started sending more than enough volunteers for ten Fazba Holds to run experiments. Testing continued with the same pace that Goddess Kassandora waged her wars.

On the eve of the eighth decade of the War, the first soul was successfully extracted from a live body without killing the subject and without the assistance of magicians, sorcerers or Divines. In year eighty-one, a soul was successfully pulled out of and then pushed back into a body. Whereas this was possible with humans and dwarves, when attempted on dragons, even though they possess a conscious and an intelligence, their souls would simply dissipate without their bodies to support them. It was briefly suggested that Goddess Neneria come in to assist, although the idea was rejected both by our researchers and by Imperial high command. The latter because she was needed more urgently on the surface fronts, the former because although she would be able to hold them in place, her mere presence interfered with soul probing and interrogation along with causing all measuring equipment to de-calibrate itself.

Eventually, a method was found in year eighty-two. Souls were bound into silver dust, ground so finely that it was imperceptible. Animal souls were successfully bound to it. Then human and dwarves souls. It made ghosts that were capable of touching the material.

The Fazba Papers are suddenly cut off mid-way through year eighty-three, the last reports are of attempts to bind dragon souls to silver.

– Excerpt from the incredibly rare text: “Chronicling Dragonfall”, written by a team of Dwarven Scholars and Intellectuals.

Pegaz disappeared from underneath Neneria as the Goddess of Death recalled her horse. She straightened, still carried by the momentum, and landed as gently as a butterfly settling down upon a flower. A floor that was the top of a pillar fashioned entirely out of bodies from her Legion rose out of the dark stone below to meet her. Made out of hands and heads and backs and shoulders and chests, all wrapped together and straining as the bodies hefted their Goddess up into the air. All screaming and moaning and whining as Neneria’s will forced them into posture and position, all deafeningly silent.

The Goddess of Death raised her hands as her black eyes caught the scene ahead of her. Armoured dwarven ghosts stabbing and cutting a section of a huge log down. That wood circled around a piece of the highway and looked as if it was stuck in a spider’s web of branches and vines all holding it in place. More of the ethereal half-men were on the sides of the walls, with arbalest and ballista. All of them stunty, all of them with Great-War era blocky armour, all of them looking as if they had lost their minds. The ranged saw the Goddess of Death.

Dwarven ghosts were old news though. They always had trouble passing on. The fact that they were hacking into wood, but it was dwarves. It wouldn’t surprise Neneria one bit if the little half-men had managed to design weapons that the ethereal could wield. It was the huge beast looking right at her that made Neneria spile.

All covered in huge scales, with claws as large as a man and teeth as large as an adult’s leg. With huge eyes that still managed to be beady. Two massive wings, a pair of arms and a pair of legs. A majestic head that flowered with horns instead of petals. A dragon, yet not a live dragon. The fact the monster was opaque made it look like a huge grey-green drawing brought to life. A dragon indeed, and not just any minor beast. It was one of the first dragons that had sworn to Arascus, a monstrosity that hunted Divines in the same way that hawks would hunt sparrows. It was a dragon that Neneria recognised and remembered. “What have they done to you Taneth?”

Taneth roared as Neneria’s eyes flicked from the dragon and to the gap in that barrel of wood it had broken through. Iniri was there, her dressing whipping about as the living wood bursting from it trailed and pulsed with the woman’s energies. Kavaa too, her hair dark instead of grey, in travelling clothes and held up by Kassandora. Neneria’s sister had donned her black armour and was holding onto the Goddess of Health as she stared up at Taneth. Her hair whipped around as Kassandora followed the dragon’s gaze.

Neneria’s dark eyes met Kassandora’s crimson. Of War’s helmet disappeared from her head to reveal a face that looked barren and terrified as it gripped onto Kavaa, like a child apologetically pleading for help after getting into their own trouble. Kassandora said one word, Neneria could not hear it, but it was one of the easiest words to read by the lips: “Help.”

Neneria’s eyes shot back to Taneth as Death called upon her Legion. There was no thought given, no plans weighed, no need to discuss or debate what to do. It was the duty of the eldest sister to provide help when the younger siblings called for it. Swiftly and immediately, just as any older sibling would. With a decisiveness that only age bestowed and a will that stripped itself of doubt or question, Neneria answered.

Grey-green lightning poured from Neneria’s eyes as the pillar below her feet rose into the air. Whether ferocious dragon or ancient comrade or respected warrior, Neneria did not care. Her little sister needed her, and Death would answer in the way that only Death could.

Neneria raised her hands to either side as she saw Iniri turn and fall to her knees. The Goddess of Nature started to bawl as her mouth made one of the widest smiles Neneria had ever seen. Kassandora fell with Kavaa too, still holding onto her friend but staring up at Neneria with nothing but sheer relief. A lone cavalry man charged past Neneria on a ghastly horse. The animal and the rider had a single slash running through it, the wound that had killed them as the knight leaned down and the grey-green horse underneath him jumped off Neneria’s pillar of ghosts.

One knight, opaque and grey-green, charging silently towards the dwarves. One knight that served as the first drop in Neneria’s flood. The Goddess of Death pulled the curtain back from the material world as her army surged forth. A Dragon was a ferocious beast, any of their species would be able to bring an army to heel alone. A king that incurred the wrath of one as powerful as Taneth would willingly hand out duchies to men willing to even stand against the beast. Entire realms were traded for a single dragon egg because a single dragon egg could end up ruling over so much more. The only men who had been mad enough to try and fell a dragon through sheer mass of bodies ended up beheaded by those bodies.

Logistically, how many would even be needed? Tens of thousands was easily not enough. Hundreds of thousands? A million? Would anyone willingly pay the price?

Neneria opened the floodgates and prepared to unleash all thirty-three million souls kept locked within her heart of darkness.

A single rider soared through the air. The first drop in a flood. Not an organised legion with ranks and brigades and commanders and men waving swords but a tidal wave of ghostly, grey-green bodies that filled the entire dwarven highway up from top to bottom and side to side. Neneria saw the dwarven ghosts raise shields and lower pikes in some attempt at protection as Neneria’s own spirits poured in from the walls, surged up from the floor or fell from the ceilings.

Taneth roared, his giant wings gave a single beat and the dragon soured upwards and forwards. That jaw opened up, easily large enough to bite through several Neneria’s. And the Goddess of Death did even react as she stared that opaque and scaled beast down. If the monster was alive, then it would be different. If the dragon was here in the flesh, then maybe she would flinch. But the monster was not here, whether through magic or through science, the monster had left behind the world of the material and intruded into Neneria’s kingdom.

The ghost of Atis stepped into existence by Neneria’s side as a whole host of ghastly air cavalry dived onto the dragons body. Lance and spear and sword and axe was repelled and knocked away by those huge scales. Winged horse and rider disappeared the moment they struck the dragon, to make way for another ghost behind them. Atis took another step, positioning himself before Neneria.

The God of the Hunt’s huge bow materialised in his hand and his quiver appeared over that back which still carried the hundreds of bullet wounds that had killed him in the first place. He turned to the side and raised his bow in the stance of an experienced hunter. The ghost of Maisara also appeared, the Goddess of Order was clad in her silver armour, her executioner’s axe at the ready. She blinked and looked around and Neneria felt her lip twist into a grimace of annoyance. “Fight.”

“I have not sworn to you.” Maisara replied. Neneria should have broken her already.

“I do not beg for conviction Maisara.” Neneria replied as Atis held the arrow bow drawn. Taneth roared again. “You’re in my realm. Protect it and protect yourself or I will turn your soul into a pyre.” Maisara looked at Neneria for a moment as if questioning herself, and then gave up. Whether it was self-preservation or actual following of orders, Maisara did not know and frankly, she did not care.

A fist fashioned out of ghastly bodies hit the dragon in its side. Maisara leapt forward at Taneth. More ghosts poured from the ceiling, falling with spear and pike as they tried to impale the dragon from above. Atis loosed the arrow. Ghosts tore and ripped into the beast’s wings as they tried to slow Taneth down. Atis’ arrow hit the dragon in the throat. Taneth recoiled and roared as the God of the Hunt loosed another dozen off the arrows. Maisara’s axe came down onto the monster’s snout from above. The blade’s head submerged itself half way into the nose, Maisara’s armoured boots pushed off Taneth’s scale, the Goddess of Order launched upwards in a spin. One of the Legion’s ghosts managed to lodge its spear under a scale. A dozen arrow pierced into Taneth’s neck. More dragonscale fell down and disappeared into a silvery mist as the ghost dragon was injured. A knight plunged the entirety of his lance through those wounds, then disappeared to make way for a pikeman stabbing forwards. Maisara came back down, spinning madly, her executioner’s axe hit the back of Taneth’s neck like a scythe. It sent two dozen scales flying into the air. Those disappeared into silver dust as well.

Taneth roared in fury.

Atis’ arrows broke away more of the dragon’s scales. Maisara’s axe slashed down the monster’s side. A man wielding two blades dived into the wound, his swords a grey-green blur as they madly whirred. A dozen knights orchestrated their blow on one singular scale. A dozen lances managed to wedge themselves under the dragon’s armour. Another scale came off. A ghost pierced the thick hide that made up the beast’s wings. A blacksmith hit Taneth’s horns with his hammer. A spearman stabbed at his eyes. Maisara sent another enormous cut down the other side. Atis shot at the joint between back and wing. His arrows hit, one wing kept on flapping, the other became paralysed and lost control. The dragon was submerged in the flood of bodies.

Taneth roared in pain.

Neneria’s eyes narrowed as she felt the weakness in Taneth’s soul. A dragon had been impossible to claim before. She herself had never been strong to capture a soul alone and the body dying would disfigure but not damage the spirit. Yet a spirit made material?

Neneria’s pillar surged forwards as it carried the Goddess to Taneth’s body. Maisara came down like a cannonball and forced the monster’s jaw shut. A sudden flood of ghosts pinned the dragon to the ground under the sheer weight of a million wailing souls pressing down upon it. Atis’ arrows hit the monster’s shoulders. Its arms fell loose by its side. Taneth was buried under a mass of bodies that parted only for Neneria.

The Goddess’ hand touched the dragon’s split nose. Neneria opened her dark heart. She felt Taneth’s sheer will cry out in a roar. Neneria did not answer, Death did not speak. She let the roar fade, hand still pressed onto the monster. The dragon moved to snap at her, Maisara once again smashed into its skull like a meteorite coming from the heavens themselves.

Neneria opened her heart further. The monster contained here on Arda by the silver binding its soul. The Goddess of Darkness let her control over souls expand through the dragon. There was absolutely no chance she would be able to break Taneth out here, but once he was locked inside her, then she would have all the time in the world.

Neneria took a deep breath and ripped the soul from the enchantment. Immediately, she felt Taneth’s soul pull away from her as it tried to flee. She hooked her will around the dragon, she felt her mind impale itself through the scales as if she was catching a fish. She tugged back on the line. She felt the impossible.

Taneth moved. Not further away but closer towards.

And Taneth felt it too. He writhed, he squeezed, he wriggled, he tried to thrash and roar and scream and escape. Neneria’s endless supply of souls kept him pinned. Maisara was close by, ready to smash into the dragon’s jaw once again if the opaque grey-green ghost tried to snap at Neneria. Atis drew his bow and held his breath. And Neneria pulled further.

And this time, Taneth did not just move. Taneth shrunk as a part of moved through Neneria’s fingers, into her hand, through her arm and was swallowed by her heart. One piece of soul was swallowed and Neneria felt it burn within her with rage and fury and shame and denial and hatred at what was happening. It tasted like the sweetest alcohol she had ever drunk.

One piece was enough.

One piece proved it could be done.

One piece showed that in this realm, there was one Divine will and one will only.

Neneria swallowed Taneth’s soul.

Darkness returned to Fazba as the ghosts disappeared.

Silence.

– – – End of Arc 11: Empire in Epa – – –

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep