The advent of the most powerful Divine Forces along with the most primordial fears of humanity in the forms of Death & Darkness wrested a spot on Arda from the ravenous forces of the world’s flora. Yet Arda adapted to wipe away the sickness that had begun to plague the planet. Creatures of horror that stalked under floorboards and inhabited within closets and beneath beds clambered out of Arda’s deepest holes. Monsters that stole children and that drained human spirit to reproduce ingratiated themselves in the ancestral memories of all humanity as one of its most ancient terrors: the creature that is so close to human, yet something else entirely.

Yet no matter how bestial and how terrible their reign, the incarnations of deities continued. Pride & Knowledge, Love & Hatred were the gifts bestowed upon mankind. Soulless orbs for eyes that paralyzed had their strength swept away the unbending Pride that gave no leeway to fear and by the Knowledge that dictated action must be taken. Yet it was Love and Hatred that led the offensive. The hearts of humanity became united. Nomadic wanderers settled down and began to scour hills and valleys, forests and fields, and then entire nations of monsters.

There still exist a few cursed sites across the world where it is said that monsters roam, although they have long learned that the planet is no longer theirs. Yet whereas these cursed sites are located far from settled areas, in ancient tundras and regions inhospitable to civilization, occasionally, a death will be so peculiar that a monster is the only answer. The most famous example is the two-decade long terror that made the Aris catacombs its home before a Purging Operation led by Goddess Allasaria finally laid it to rest.

What is most peculiar about the Aris Terror is that upon dissection, it was revealed to have been no older than a half a century in age. The question is then raised, what gave birth to it? And where did it come from? An analysis of the Aris Beast is told in text 47;4;2;517

– Excerpt from “The Archive of Arda”, a historical text written by Goddess Elassa, of Magic, which exists as one of the longest texts in existence. The project, which spans entire tomes, aims to detail the entire history of the world.

Fer’s eyes widened at the newspaper. She could read. She was sure she could read. She knew how to read. Dad taught her, and so did big sister Irinika. But there were times when she questioned her own skill at the subject. Her eyes grew wide as they scanned this string of words. Each one, she could understand, but together, they stopped making sense: Goddess Baalka has returned! The soldier who had given it to her stood with his hands behind his back as Fer took a deep breath and let the tension of out her hands. She had almost the newspaper.

“When is this from?” Fer asked the man as she moved herself so that more of the light coming from the headlights of a Torchbearer tank would catch onto the black and white picture. There was dad, in a grand old royal uniform. There was Kassie and Kavaa, both dressed in the formality that they loved to bathe in. Anassa and Elassa, in almost matching dresses save for the fact Fer’s sister was far more tasteful with the jewellery whereas the Goddess of Magic had an egregious amount of metal all over her. And there was Baalka. The image was black and white, but how could Fer not recognise a sister’s face?

The soldier made a grim face. The rest of his squad members all shared awkward looks, the warm of air of breathing misting in from of them. This close to the rift, the temperature was a rollercoaster. Sometimes, great waves of ancient, biting cold would come in through a draft from the tunnels behind, sometimes it would be as if Tartarus was trying to turn this whole region into an oven. It was bad for the men, it was even worse for the vehicles. Cold snaps would render engines unable to ignite, heatwaves had already caused multiple fires and explosions as gasoline set alight. The most recent wave had even ignited an ammunition truck. That had been a disaster. The soldier in the grey uniform of the Second Expedition finally gave up. “I don’t know Goddess.” He said.

“It’s just Fer.” Fer said quickly. “But what do you mean?”

“Normally it would be a day. Maybe two? To get a paper down here though?” The man said and Fer nodded.

“So you mean it could be a week ago even?”

“That seems reasonable.” The soldier said and one of the members of his team raised a hand. A shorter fellow shaved completely bald although most of the men here were. His rifle hung off his back, he had a new-style uniform. With more pockets and with two flags on his arm. The Imperial tricolour of red-black and white above the flag of Lubska.

“Go on.” Fer said.

“Goddess Olonia’s incarnation day is on the fourteenth but the paper celebrating got here on the nineteenth. It’s about five days.”

“That was months ago.” One of the other men whispered quietly enough as to think Fer wouldn’t catch him. The Goddess of Beasthood did not bother commenting. Let it be months ago, the point still stood. If this was a week ago, then Kassie should be here soon. Fer handed the newspaper back to the soldier she had stolen it off.

“Apologies for tearing the paper.” She said.

“None needed Goddess.” He said and Fer rolled her eyes. The men in Kassandora’s army were miserable.

“It’s just Fer.” She repeated and stepped away. The man had pulled her away from the officer’s meeting when she caught a glance of the news from above. The Goddess of Beasthood, twice the height of the rest of the tallest man about, returned to the problems the men were facing.

“…issue is with the fact the tunnel opens up. Ignore the temperature issue for a moment and just pretend we could send men. How do we secure a foothold?” Captain James was answering. New uniform style here as well, the Imperial Flag was hoisted above the Allian one. Fer liked anyone who was on a first name basis with her. She nodded to support his point as a truck drove past them away from the front. The smell of charred flesh came from within.

“Captain Allson raises a point here.” Captain Jaroslaw Icznicki said. Another one Fer liked, frankly, she had spent so much time with the glory-seeking feudal lords of the past that all her experience in the Imperial Military had not changed her appreciation for Kassandora’s level-headedness. “We’ve seen over the cliff. It’s just a tide of bodies.”

“I note the concern.” One of the other captain’s said. Another Allian, but this one was just Captain Morrow. “But the longer we wait here, the more we are waiting for another Furcas situation.” Fer did not even know how the news of the Demon’s Prince’s death had spread so far. All the officers looked at her.

“Furcas was like me so I defeated him.” Fer said kept the explanation short. “Be’elzebub or Legion would run over us.” She pointed up to the gold in the ceiling. Supposedly, mobile cranes and magicians had been brought down in a new Gold-sweeper Division although wherever the Goldsweepers were, they certainly weren’t here. “And Mammon can see us so I am sure something will come sooner rather than later.” Fer glanced at the coins that had been hammered into the ceiling. Maybe the men did not have eyes strong enough to catch the details, but she could. The demon with down-turned horns, sat on his throne, was etched onto every coin. Every now and then, the figure would turn as he looked over more of the army.

James stood straighter and made his tone lower and gentler. “Whereas I agree with the fact that eventually they will send something at us. I disagree it will be soon.”

“Why?” Fer asked.

“Because we’ve come to a deadlock as things are. Here, our supply lines are stretched as far as possible whereas General Iliyal believes they have opened a gate at the bottom of the rift.” He pursed his lips. “Granted, it is not my place to comment but how long can the Second Expedition be supported?”

“So what would you do in their position?” Jaroslaw asked in that harsh Lubskan accent of his.

James looked at the other captains and then at Fer. She smelled the intoxicating, sweet smell of nervousness tinged with fear off him, like cinnamon dashed with honey. A team of mages in dark uniforms, the Red and Purple of Arcadia painted on their truck, came to a stop by them. “Go on James.” Fer said. “Better to be honest about our situation than to pretend we’re not in deep shit.” Several of the officers chuckled at that, Fer knew they would. A creature as noble as a Goddess doing something so crass as swearing always lightened the mood.

“I would just hold and let the Second Expedition bankrupt the Empire.” James said dryly. That ruined the mood for everyone here, even Fer had to smile at that analysis.

She had to salvage the situation. “I will recommend you to my sister for promotion James.” Fer said. “But at the end of the day, you are a soldier and you have a job to do. The treasury is not my demesne and it’s not yours. Ignore that for now.”

“We could shell them with flak.” Jaroslaw said dryly. “But it’s a half-measure.”

“We don’t have the ammunition. And to request more, here? A month at the least.” Captain Morrow said and every made some vague nod of agreement. “Realistically, we drown them.” The rest of the men turned to him and Fer smiled. Now this was called thinking outside the box. “From above, that would be the most efficient measure. I could write a suggestion to General Iliyal noting the feasibility of the Sassara to the sea and just drowning them.”

“Like the Ocean Drains.” Fer said and Captain Morrow went red with embarrassment. That had been how Kassie had once stopped the one and only invasion of the surface world from the dwarves.

“That is where I got the idea from.” The man admitted.

“Good ideas are timeless.” Fer said. Honestly, she had no clue about the feasibility of such a project but if Elassa could get everyone into this mess and crack a continent, then what was digging a canal for her? Better to try and drown them in saltwater rather than drown in them in blood.

A shout interrupted the conversation. “HEATWAVE!” One of the forward squads screamed. Immediately, the scouts and the teams of infantry turned and began to sprint back towards the vehicles. Sirens began to blare, vehicles flashed their lights to indicate they got the message. Fer’s hairs stood on their ends as her ears swivelled around. Normally she was the preliminary alarm for heatwaves because she’d pick up the chanting of Tartarian Flameseerers. Now?

The officers froze as the entire unit was activated with the Heatwave Protocol that made it look like each man was a mere gear in some grand machine. Personnel carriers and tanks swung open their doors as teams raced back to the vehicles. Trucks parked next to each other as to touch and cover the emplacements. The men too far away for hope of returning flung themselves behind sandbags, then proceeded to dig out sheets of reflective silver from backpacks under which they hid. The huge Torchbearer tanks, all four of them that were at the Vanguard, slowly began to retreat. Each one of them dimmed its massive lighthouse lamp which gave light to all the troops in the of the expedition.

Fer looked towards the end. Past the broken bodies of demons which had been ripped apart by artillery and gunfire. Too close to the rift for the Second Expedition to bulldoze the bodies away, yet too far from the rift for Tartarus to mount a recovery operation. In the distance, Fer could see where the massive Dwarven Highway continued. It was a huge maw in a cliff of stone charred into the colours of coal. Between that opening and the tunnel they sat now was the rift. The location where Arika had been ripped apart and what caused this entire mess in the first place. Every now and then, a succubus or hellsteed would appear in the distance, soaring or dashing across the air as they scouted the Imperial Forces.

The heatwave did come. The initial beginnings of it as the mages and sorcerers that had been brought in deal to deal with the supernatural did their job. Men and women in dark Imperial uniforms, the red and purple shattering world emblem sewn onto their backs. They raised hands dressed in gloves of metal and embedded with dozens of gemstones. They spun wand and stave through the air and a thousand different multicoloured lights came into existence as solid air hardened to have the strength and impenetrability of steel.

Fires roared in the distance. Mages rushed forward and put up a barrier in front of the troops. A team of six auxiliary sorcerers flew through the air and put up a second barrier of opaque crimson in front of the army, although both sets had wasted effort. And yet it was not a conjured wall of living fire as had come before. It was just a burst of flame that had come from below.

Fer narrowed her eyes. What exactly where they doing?

And then she caught it. Sand. Sand coming from above. A sand fine and rockless, it was so fine it flowed down like water. A sand almost orange rather than the plain yellow that sat on beaches. A sand found in the heart of the Sassara.

“James.” Fer shouted. “Breach all protocol under my authority.” She started digging in her coat for her seal. Arascus had given one to all his daughters, if this was not a moment for such an occasion, then she did not know what was. “Get to the surface immediately. As quickly as you can.”

“Yes Goddess.” The fact that the man used her title said he understood how serious it was.

Fer did not even bother correcting him. “Tell them they’re digging out.” 

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep