Humanity typically adores the Age of Heroes. It is only natural though. Arascus and Paramethus paved the way for a grand restoration of the human spirit. Whereas it was not the first time that humanity ruled itself, it was the first time that humanity had a grand overarching goal and wasn’t simply different kingdoms which floundered their way around through war and peace.

The Age of Heroes is the reason for how little of the original breed Divines actually exist. One had to be powerful enough to survive the unending onslaught, such as Maisara, one had to be so irrelevant that humanity had no qualms with them, such as Neneria, or one had to be on the side of Humanity, such as Arascus.

Privately, one need only ask Fortia or Maisara what they think about the Age of Heroes to know what it was like. There is a reason they do not say they ‘lived’ through it but rather ‘survived’ it. Maisara in her own words describes it as “Arda’s great cleansing inferno”, she is correct. It is disappointing then that most Divines do not take the lesson I take from it. Maybe I am simply too young, maybe Maisara is correct and Foundational Theory is correct, the original breed Divines will never see it because they are incapable of seeing it, but the Age of Heroes was a mercy, not a trial.

Arascus and Paramethus, whether accidentally or purposefully, let the steam out of the pan before the pot began to overflow. Whereas many of us got burned, I strongly believed that had the times of Divine rule continued, humanity would have not risen up to simply give us a bloody nose. Humanity would have risen up to exterminate us.

In that way, the Age of Heroes was not a disaster. It was a lesson.

It’s just a shame that there exist some who think they are too good to learn from it.

– Excerpt from Goddess Allasaria’s, of Light’s, Private Diary

“Elassa has set off, she’ll be upon us in twenty minute’s time.” Kassandora’s voice came over the speaker. The Goddess of War was on the battleship off the coastline. There was another one close to it. Apparently they were the INS Resolution and the Judge. Two more ships were coming, they would get here soon, and then Elassa was bringing another distraction.

Maisara did not know whether she should feel honoured or offended at the fact she was a distraction too. Was it annoying that she didn’t have a major role? It was more annoying that Elassa had the same job and they would probably have to share the credit. But even then, something could not be too aggravating if Maisara had to ask herself whether she found it annoying or not.

The Goddess of Order touched the earpiece in her ear and replied back to Kassandora. “Understood.” She said. “Should I start drawing her out now?” Maisara asked.

Kassandora replied immediately. Of course she did. “You’re welcome to start anytime.” Kassandora said.

Maisara clicked her earpiece again. “Very well, starting. Maisara out.” She turned it off and took a deep breath. Working with Arascus and everyone underneath him had been a blur. She had awoken, they had tested whether she could summon her axe, and then they had sent her off into battle. It was borderline surreal how quickly the Empire moved, the sun had not even risen yet. Maisara had returned back to life not even a few hours ago. And right now, she was being sent off to fight someone already.

Maisara took another deep breath and her hands ran down her armour. It was her armour, the same one she had died in. Neneria’s storm of souls had not damaged it one bit. It still hugged her in all in the same places and gave space in others. It was nothing like the newer heavy armours of Divines that covered one from top to toe in metal. No, this was armour that had been fashioned to fight against dragons and great beasts. Those creatures did not care in the slightest how armoured one was. The chest-plate was light, the lower half was a skirt of scale mail and Maisara felt the ocean wind whip past her legs.

Maisara stared coldly as men began to emerge from the city of Ordeaux in the distance. She had visited this place before. She had cleansed it of Anarchia’s supporters once already. Back then, the people protested her as a tyrant who came in and slaughtered. And now? The city was smoking ruins. Fires ranged over it. Men flew around in the air. Spare bombers still dropped their deadly hail of exploding steel onto the city. A plane circled overhead.

And like tiny buzzing flies, Anarchia’s superheroes approached the Goddess of Order. Men and women in costumes rather than uniform. In cloak over armour. Maisara remembered how she picked them off the first time she had to clean up the Anarchia issue. Back then they were chained to such high ideals as presentability and modesty and classiness. Now? Apparently they had managed to remove all authority in Rancais and this is what they did with it?

They allowed their cities to be bombed? They relied on the good graces of other nations to feed their people? They dressed up in garish spandex that made them look like spots of paint that had been haphazardly splashed onto a canvas? In each one, Maisara found a thing she hated. The man’s tight spandex over his crotch that hid little was just so blatant in presentation that it made the Goddess want to spit. The man next to him, flying in a theatrical manner with his arms outstretched was just as bad. True power did not need theatrics to prove itself. The woman with most of her skin exposed to the air and a fox mask over her face was attempting to do what exactly? And the man in green with a brown cape? Never mind the horrible choice of colours but why have a cape? Capes were for show, not for battle.

A dozen more of Anarchia’s so-called heroes followed the initial party, and then about thirty who could not fly quickly raced towards Maisara on the ground. Some sprinted in a straight line, their legs a blur as they moved. Others leapfrogged from spot to spot as they quickly traversed the fields around Ordeaux. Others leapt with sorcery. Anassa’s red magic sent them flying forward in quick bursts after which they had to recover.

Kassandora had been right. If this is how they used sorcery then it was no surprise that Anarchia didn’t know what she was doing with the stolen power. Maisara outstretched her hand as the men and women came to a stop some distance from her. They hovered in the air and had the audacity to make scowls or grimaces as they stared at the Goddess of Order. One of them began to talk. “Imperial agg-“ He never finished the second word.

Maisara’s axe spinning through the air like a blade split him in two.

The party in the air fell silent with stunned shock as Maisara scanned their expressions for the briefest moment. She fell into a squat, her legs tightened, her stomach became as hard as tone, she took a breath, she felt her heartbeat.

And Maisara released all the tension in one explosive burst of energy and launched into the sky.

There had been a time, long in the past, where Divine would not fight man. Then there had been a time where Divine would go easy on man. There was a time when Divine would talk to their opponent. When great speeches would be held before battles to determine who had the moral advantage and to set about the consequences that would be incurred.

And then Kassandora had come to wipe it all away. War had been reduced to a game of victory and defeat. Winner took all. The way to win was to destroy your opponent. Words were only useful insofar as they bought time or got into someone’s head.

Maisara crossed the distance from herself on the ground to the heroes in the air over the span of another pair of heartbeats. The Goddess was as large as a vehicle but she launched with all the lightning-fast finesse and terrible accuracy of a striking snake. One hand tore through a man in blue as if the Goddess was ripping through a thin wooden door. His body crumpled and was torn apart by the sheer force. Her other hand closed around the empty air as her axe rematerialized in her grip.

The huge executioner’s tool swung around Maisara. It was taller than her and the sudden addition of weight sent her into a somersault straight down onto the ground. Another of Anarchia’s men were split apart by the weapon. The moment Maisara landed, she instantly sent it soaring back again at the woman with the fox mask. She had the decency to try and move. Simply trying wasn’t any measure of success though. The woman’s corpse, fell towards the ground followed by a stream of blood.

One man began to shout. “PUT DISTAN-“ The wrecking ball that was the Goddess of Order slammed into and through him. And again, she extended her hand out, she recalled her axe. The sudden addition of such weight stopped her flight and sent her falling back down to the air. Four down but finally the rest of the men had woken up.

Maisara couldn’t even fault them. It wasn’t a case of Great War veterans versus Pantheon Peace inexperience. If she entered a fight and there weren’t immediate casualties, that meant something was wrong. Their retreat was what Maisara thought it would be. They started to rise into the air. The group approaching on the ground came to a stop as they stared in horror at their air support being picked off one by one.

A flash of red came from above. A blade that looked like a diagram drawn onto reality. Slightly opaque in the night sky, its sullen glow made it easy to track. Stolen sorcery.

Maisara did not even bother reacting for such a minor blow. She had faced off the Goddess of Sorcery. Anassa would eviscerate her and still fail. A human? What could they expect to do? They couldn’t even do a good job at it. Every trained sorcerer knew that one didn’t summon their attacks next to them if they didn’t have to. It was one of the most basic lessons that a battlefield taught.

Maisara taught the lesson.

She moved like lightning, her arm a blur. The red blade came down upon her as she threw her hand back, felt the weight of her axe suddenly settle on her palm and then heaved it forward. Sullen, pale, stolen sorcery flying downwards passed Maisara’s cold steel thrown upwards. The superhero in the air may have started his attack first, but Maisara’s axe tore through him. He was split in two. And both halves of his body fell to the ground.

Another man down.

More blows came as the men in the air put even more distance between themselves and Maisara. Did they not realise that range was not an issue? That they either needed the strength of Divines or the power of collective magic to block a throw? Maisara recalled her axe, threw it again and sidestepped the attack coming down on her. Nothing about her dodging was frantic, instead it was all calculated sidesteps to put just enough distance between herself and the oncoming sorcery that she would quickly be able to follow up with another dodge if they realised they could remotely control the incarnations of crimson.

Not a single one did. A woman was hit this time. Her torso was separated at her waist from her lower body and Maisara’s axe rematerialized in the Goddess’ hand. She slammed the blade against a spear coming down on her. Sorcery was not hard to fight against whatsoever. Once the will of the caster snapped, once they started to believe that there was no chance at victory, their magic would prove to be nothing more than a paper tiger. The spear disappeared from the air the moment Maisara swung at it. Her axe did not even face resistance.

The first blow set the precedent. The precedent defined reality. Maisara dodged a few, struck a few others, and let lances dissipate as they hit her armour. There was no way that the steel could resist a blast from mages like that, but from the dire, terrified expressions painted on those men’s faces, they already believed they couldn’t touch their opponent.

Maisara spun her axe around as she blocked another blow. She saw Anarchia’s heroes and allies, men and women she had given stolen power and strength to take a step back. She wondered if they knew who exactly they were facing. Maybe they had faced real Divines before even, but definitely they had not faced any of the big names. There was only one thing mankind could do when the embodiment of all Order came to uproot their anarchy.

Finally, they did the first intelligent thing all fight. She saw men bring out their phones from hidden pockets or out of sleeves. She saw them ring. She heard them scream for help. For their own deity to step in and protect them.

Maisara clicked her earpiece. “Kassandora, I’ve lured her out.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep