The Age of Heroes failed. That failure stains my reputation. Paramethus, may he rest in a better world, has been slain. All who carry his magnanimous spirit have been hunted down as chaos beseeches our precious Arda. Things that have occurred have indeed occurred. The notion of heroism has successfully separated humanity’s greatest from humanity itself.

Yet a more profound failure has been revealed within the Age of Heroism, one that has obviously been missed by the gatekeepers of Divinity: A human can never reach the status of a Divine simply through handing them power on a silver plate. The project failed because that is all I and Paramethus managed to do. Whereas there are many deities that speculate on the differences between the human and the Divine conditions, it is not simply a case of power and immortality.

The fundamental difference, that we are all aware of yet that none of us point towards, is the case of family and childhood. Whether it is because of envy, of rage, of arrogance, there are no writings I have seen covered by Divines which details this. Likewise, when mentioned in conversation, the topic is regularly skipped over. It is simply too painful and too close a weakness that is omnipresent throughout Divinity. Heroism could have never worked for humans reproduce naturally. They have children, they have fathers and mothers, from their very first moments, they are surrounded by a familial love foreign to Divines.

A Divine may be trained in statecraft, may have the sciences explained to them, may become a master with any array of weaponry, they may have powers capable enough to destroy our planet, and this feeling will still be unknown. I and Paramethus noticed it quickly, the theory went that as soon as humanity was given tremendous spirit, they would ascend into some Divine mindset.

This did not happen, humanity did not ascend. Paramethus had to die for me to see the difference. Divines have long since hunted amongst themselves for reasons petty: whether it was minor qualms we could simply not reconcile through. The Divines that remain to this age are the masters of this mindset. Over entire Eras, we have self-selected to become a species of creature that will willingly slaughter one another at the slightest hint of provocation. There are no social bonds between us, save for those that are materially beneficial.

It was the pain of knowing Paramethus slain, the twisting of the heart, the unwillingness to continue, that I lacked. In human terms, the God of Spirit would have been a brother to me although I do not know what that word truly means. I realise now, as I sit and watch the world being broken and feel nothing, that we are less than children in the eyes of humanity.

In such terms, Divinity has no right to lecture humanity.

It will not do for us to be such incomplete creatures. If need be, then Divinity shall be dragged kicking and screaming to know the bonds that all other creatures are born with.

Fundamentally, it is impossible to give family to creatures that exist to be independent. None have risen to the challenge. None are rising to the challenge. No will rise to the challenge.

So I will.

– Excerpt from God Arascus’, of Pride’s, Private Writings. Written mid-way through Worldbreaking.

“Sir.” Iliyal turned to man with a folder in his hands. He was one of Trosk’s, the minister of Internal Affairs had been sent off to wherever he wanted so that the dual task of enforcing the Gold Ban and managing the refugee crisis would not spill over and start a chain of collapse that would end the Empire. The former was the easier issue, Malam’s SIS were handling the biggest troublemakers who thought themselves too rich to be asked for such a thing and the specialist cases: Iliyal had heard of gold teeth being pulled out. The latter was the actual issue. Whereas they had not hit a level that would entail starvation, goods shortages were already beginning. Sugar had run out. Meat was being rationed. Were it not for Lubska having a good year in grain, bread would have been added to the list. The North Arikans had plenty of gratitude to tap into, but plenty was not infinite. Iliyal had seen it before. “Sir!” Trosk’s assistant said again.

“What!?” Iliyal snapped back. Couldn’t the man see he was thinking here? The lights in the tent dimmed for a moment and kicked back up. That was common enough on the front. The massive underground capacitors that powered the railguns were being charged. Those would be more necessary than some orange lamps.

“The E-E-Emperor’s plane.” The man said and pulled out a series of images. More satellite photos. Arascus was too important not to be constantly watched over, even if the God didn’t particularly enjoy that fact. Iliyal took the images from his hand.

Black ocean. Black ocean. Black ocean with a sphere of gold on it as large as a city. Black ocean again. The elf rolled his eyes and handed the images back. “Send scout planes and the reserve fleet. Give the Allian aircraft carrier something to do.” Iliyal was not fond of that ship, the Allians had taken it up themselves to called it the INS Tremali. The Imperial Bureau of War and of Culture had both approved it. No one had bothered to ask Iliyal Tremali himself on whether he wanted to be a fucking aircraft carrier of all things.

“B-bu-but.” The man stuttered out as the rest of the room went pale. They all looked at the images. Sometimes, Iliyal forgot these were men forged in Pantheon Peace. They had never seen what the God was capable of.

“We had the God of Pride and the Goddess of Health on that plane.” Iliyal said. “I will believe they are dead when I see the bodies. Otherwise, continue as planned. Send word to Doschia that his arrival has been delayed.”

Iliyal leaned up from his map of Rilia. Behind him, the map of Epa and Arika and the sea inbetween was slowly flickering as dozens of satellites all sent their own images from space. The computer was tracing a blue line of Ashen Skies as they plunged over the ocean. After a half-second, a blue circle would appear around the Archdemon that was heading straight to them. It had been baffling for all of a minute until the elf realised it was on a straight line collision course with the location were Rhomaion had once stood. That were good assumptions to make from that. Tartarus had not infiltrated their bureaucracy yet. It was simply working off its own assumptions that the Empire would rebuild its ancient cities. “A-And if-“

No more. Iliyal a deep breath and stared at the men in the room. No one looked too confidently at him. But no one had seen the sort of events they had survived in the Great War. What they, they would get from books. But man could read about ashen skies all his life and still not realise what they meant. “Send patrol planes and sweep the area with drones. This.” Iliyal pointed to the gold circle, that was obviously Arascus. “Was Arascus in combat. Whatever he faced is dead. Radar will pick him up. Save your panic for tomorrow.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Another man said. A damn lieutenant who was in charge of fortification here.

“Then I will buy you all a bottle and you have my permission to drink yourselves to death.” The elf turned it into a joke. Even if Arascus was dead, then it did not change that an Archdemon was approaching. This is how Goddess Kassandora would act. This is how Iliyal Tremali acted. There was no negotiation. “Else you all owe me one.”

They obviously did not find him funny. “Will rada-“

“The man is the size of a truck!” Iliyal shouted. “Of course it will! We’ll find him in a matter of hours!” Now finding him and picking him up were too different things. A plane would get to him in no time and that would calm these fools down. But there was no way that Arascus would board a plane mid-flight. A boat then. Iliyal rolled his eyes. The fucking INS Tremali would pick him up then. “Does anyone else want to fearmonger or are we going to deal with the actual problem then?”

Iliyal saw one man raise his hand. A glare made him lower it. “Good.” The elf declared. “Onto the Archdemon.” He got moving to the monitors with an electronic pen in his hand so that he could draw in real time. In the past, they needed Divines and sorcerers. In the past, only Divines and sorcerers had the power to strike at such distances. Only they had enough power to truly threaten such titans. Each soul of man may be a single drop and they may be trying to drown an entire island, but it did not matter. The ocean nothing more than the grandest collection of droplets on this world and the ocean has been known to swallow entire islands.

A fortress like that would have a summoning portal. Then, it would not matter whether they waited for Olephia or not. If Tartarus managed to get a foothold on Epa, then its warriors would make a swarm so grand even the Goddess of Chaos would not clear them out. “It has to be stopped before it makes landfall.”

Iliyal looked at the men and expected another question. There were none. Everyone was obviously awaiting to be given something to do. The Hand of the Emperor smiled in satisfaction. Now they were operating as if they were in a Great War council. “Firstly, active the high-altitude bombers.” Iliyal said. “Get them prepped and ready to move, load them with the highest payloads we have.” He picked out a man. One of the new blood from Rilia, a major Terentino. “That’s your job.”

“Yes Sir.” The man saluted and Iliyal stared at him for a moment. He got the message. “I’ll do it now.”

“You do that.” Major Terentino stepped away and then stopped.

“Sir.” He said. “Apologies but can they fly in ashen skies?”

“Above it.” Iliyal said. “Use guided munitions if possible, area denial bombs if not. We’re at sea, collateral won’t be an issue.”

“Understood.”

Iliyal moved onto the next man. A low-ranking lieutenant in charge of a division of infantry that was doing nothing important. “Contact the Bureau of Rocketry. Tell them to prepare comets for live fire.” The man stared at him for a moment, his eyes puzzled.

“How?”

“Nevermind.” Iliyal said. “Someone get me my phone.” Helenna would do all of this. The Goddess of Love would get it done in half the time and with twice the results frankly. “Antonio!” Iliyal shouted. That was his personal liaison that had been assigned as a contact to King Aimone. “Send word that we need more electricity down here. Aimone is to start rolling blackouts in Rilia. I don’t care where or what or whatever. Get our capacitors charged!”

“Understood general!” Antonio piped up, already reaching for his phone. Now that was a good man. He began talking in Rilian as Iliyal gave more orders.

“Send word to Admiral Callaghan!” Iliyal said. “Tell him to separate light vessels out from the fleet and prepare cruisers and battleships for breaching the ashfront.” What else? What else? Nothing else really. Iliyal turned back down to the map.

There was so much more. Mages could be moved in to support. Artillery was being brought in. An armoured Division had recently made contact, they were the first troops out from the Second Expedition. Kassandora had sent a general retreat order. Then several holes into the underground would have to be collapsed too before they became entrances for Tartarus. And…

Antonio interrupted Iliyal’s thoughts. “King Aimone asks about Rilia. He says that we need to evacuate the population! Half way at least, the south has to be emptied!” Iliyal looked at the archdemon take another step into the ocean. It was not slowing down, nor was it getting any deeper. Iliyal had seen them swim before, they could maintain a simple breaststroke. If Tartarus was sending it out into the water, then there was no doubt it could cross.

The North Arikan evacuations, still ongoing from the continent’s west, were already pushing the Empire to breaking point. Refugee camps were not enough, they were even dispersing members to anyone with a spare room. Cathedrals and temples to Divines had become hostels, they had even started sending out letters to farmers on whether rooms could be spared. If they were going to move Rilia, then the system would buckle and break. And then? Total collapse of the rear lines. There would be no war to fight if the all the good in this world was overwhelmed. There was no more space to give. No more retreats to be ordered. No more steps back to be taken.

This is what it came down to.

Either they would hold. Or they would crumble.

Iliyal turned to the room, behind him, the maps updated once again as yet another satellite passed over the archdemon making its way to Epa. “I will stay here.” Iliyal declared to the horror of faces going pale. Trosk’s man stood up, arms wide.

“Sir! We cannot afford to lose the Emperor and the Hand in the-“

“Arascus is not dead.” Iliyal interrupted him. “And I have no intention of dying.”

“Bu-“ And another interruption.

“Rilia will hold. We will not bow to lesser Gods, much less will we bow to demons from other worlds. It does not matter whether we have Divinity present or not. We will not run to suckle on their holy teats each time a monster crawls out of some godforsaken pit. This a human civilization. Humanity will come to protect it. Humanity alone is enough.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep