Our precious Arda, sold once already to worlds beyond, wept under the terror of familiar jailors returning. Our precious Arda, once kneeling, now stands tall and firm. Our precious Arda, once begging for survival of her children, now has the strength to demand. Our precious Arda, once humiliated, now is ready to meet all who try to step uninvited into her home.

Apocalypse has turned its gaze upon our precious Arda. Her skin is torn and split open, from her wounds pour scarring ashen skies, she coughs under end times, her hands quiver with what must be done. And our Precious Arda, once abandoned and sold off to outsiders, now stands together.

For we stand between our precious Arda and apocalypse.

– Publicized in Doschia Today, part of a series of short stories being published by Freie Universtat Hallin Press.

Baalka placed her hands onto stone and took a deep breath. It withered and twisted as it turned soft. A thin layer of tiny mycelium slowly spread from Baalka’s hand. Poisoning the stone itself was difficult, at the scale Kassandora demanded, it would have taken months of work. Mycelium could be burned away true but a little tinkering would make it resistant.

Baalka stood in a black coat, one hand pressed against the stone of the massive East-West Epa-South Highway. The tunnels were not like in the past, when the suns under the surface had shone. No, now, they were dark save for a few abandoned lamps which had been left behind by the retreating Second Expedition. Most of the junctions had been secured already, there were two left and then Baalka could travel north to get her next job for this war. She smiled to herself. Some six or seven hundred years she had idly wandered the world and hid from the White Pantheon. Not in Epa but in the far reaches were Olympiada’s authority was barely felt save for their enforcement of Allasaria’s glorious Pantheon Peace. Hundreds of years without work to do, without family to lean on, without being told what to do, without anyone to rely on.

On one hand, it was almost the same as before she had met Arascus and the God of Pride had taken her on as a daughter. On the other, it was the longest set of centuries throughout her entire life. Once the man had taken her out of the cave, she could return to its safety but she could never forget the warmth of the sun that shone outside. And now, underground with only a small section of troops assigned to her. Some hundred or so men which she had not even bothered learning the names of, she felt that warmth again. Family had returned. There were people to turn to. Even in she quit right now and ran up to the surface, someone would come looking for her. So she could not quit. It didn’t matter where everyone was, they were with Baalka in her heart.

The Goddess of Disease kept watch on the mycelium spreading out in veins and then releasing its spores into the air. She pushed it away from herself so that it would not devour her clothes as the men in armoured trucks drove a distance away. When the first platoon had been killed, they learned their mistake.

Baalka smiled as she played with the power pouring from her body. The same shell for the bacteria that lived in the boiling springs of Orangestone was given first. That would make sure that Tartarus’ ashfront would not just scold her disease away. The mushrooms that lived in the forests of Erdely would be next, they devoured and burrowed into trees, with a little Divine strength, they would be able to harvest thin veins of ore in the stone and break it down. That would make sure it would be coming back even if the surface was burned. The virality of the common flu to make sure it would spread endlessly. The barbs of neurotoxins found in jungle plants, to make sure that even a touch would kill. The plague, to make sure it would kill and not just cause a rash.

Then came Baalka’s finer touches. Olephia was an artist too, Olephia understand the necessity of restraint. Both in her power and in her paintings. The flu’s strands was cut short, it’s ability to be airborne was removed. The mycelium spreading over the stone stopped producing spores. The air cleared as what remained settled down onto the stone. A mother-spore, taken from the same structure taken from the same things that made ants ticked, stabbed its deep into the stone from Baalka’s hand. Deep enough that it would not be found but with a tiny opening to release its own gases. Those would claim land for the rest of the illness to spread and those would burn out after a few hours in the air. Every single of one of Baalka’s permanent traps relied on the simple mechanism, else it run rampant throughout the whole world and cause a mess for everyone. The Goddess of Disease stood there and thought. What else?

Genetical stability too. She sent another disease into the mushroom to make sure that any new forms which twisted from it would be cut short before they could spread. That was mandatory too. Too many times had her illnesses simply given up and decided to become some simple cough or sniffle to try and spread. She stole the ability to survive in water from it, Tartarus would not call in a flood but Kassie may, and that would be a problem. And that was the general checklist done.

And finally, as Baalka did with all her diseases, the progenitor for cancer. Mushrooms grew out of control and then curled and died as Baalka poisoned her own illness. The killswitch so that when the Imperial Military came back, Baalka could annihilate her own work with the flick of a finger. Maybe Kavaa would be able to do it too? Baalka wasn’t sure, she had not played around with the Goddess of Health but all that the killswitch required was just a little life. That would be a good combination.

Baalka let go of the stone and took a few steps. She watched the thin layer of sickly brown-grey mycelium slowly spread out along the stone. Another junction secured, and as well as a mile running in all directions. She turned to the small team and clicked the funny little radio that hung off her shoulder. “This is Goddess Baalka speaking.” She tried to make her voice polite. These were Kassandora’s men, they liked politeness. “We’re done here, onto the next one, stay ahead of me. Over.”

The radio replied almost immediately. “Understood Goddess, we’ll be ahead. Over and out.” What technology. Baalka still marvelled at the fact she did not have to strain her voice or use those stupid little one-time crystals Anassa was so proud of. Frankly, it was satisfying that mankind had managed to outdo the Goddess of Sorcery. Sometimes people got too high on their own supply or so the saying went.

The trucks drove on and Baalka kept up a jog behind them. They didn’t go fast enough for the Goddess of Disease to need to ride on the back of the huge open-top truck that served her as a modern chariot and Baalka had always considered herself lazy. Unlike Kassandora or Fer who actually needed to practice combat arts, Baalka did not. Anassa and Neneria and Irinika may think her stupid for it, but a Divine needed to stress their body sometime.

It took them only an hour to get to the next junction. The trucks came to a halt, Baalka’s radio came to life. “Goddess, there’s someone there. Over.”

“Human?” Baalka said, calming her breath. Being stuck in the Jungle for so long had ruined her constitution. She needed the exercise frankly. “Over.” She added after a moment.

“Divine I think. Over.”

“Flash headlights. Over.” Baalka gave the command. Maybe Kassie only had meant it for defence, but Baalka liked the fact she got to play with these men and see how the modern military operated. She got closer to the vehicles and men pretended not to look at her. Well, she did let thirty of them die out of their own incompetence. In the distance, she saw the huge figure.

There was no reason to pretend it was anyone but Fer. None but the Goddess of Beasthood possessed that golden mane off which light bounced. None but the Goddess of Beasthood were that tall, lithe shape either. Like a jaguar or a panther that was standing on its hind legs. Baalka raised her hand to the driver and took a few steps forward. She took another step, into the light.

Big mistake.

“BAALKA!” Almost immediately, Fer screamed. That distance between them was covered in the span of a few seconds as the Goddess of Beasthood rushed her sister down. Baalka barely had time to breathe before she felt her shoulders being pushed down onto the ground and Fer climbing on top of her.

“Fer.” Baalka whispered as she stared into a cloud of golden locks that all but obscured her vision. “I’m back.” Everyone knew what Fer was like, there was no fighting it at this point. Instead, Baalka just relaxed and let herself be picked up. Fer was stronger physically anyway. Those golden eyes of Fer’s stared into Baalka’s dark green as a smile so wide it almost split Fer’s face in half grew on her lips.

“Aren’t you just a little wolverine!?” Baalka rolled her eyes, what did that even mean? She didn’t even bother kicking her legs or waving her arms as she stared at the bundle of joy before her. Fer spun around with Baalka. “You’re back!” Baalka just sighed as Fer spun around and held her like a little doll, laughing all the while. If it was anyone else, then they would have been reduced to a bubbling mass of flesh and bones right now. Baalka stared at those fangs in Fer’s mouth as she was brought close for a hug. “You’re back!”

“I’m back Fer.” Baalka whispered back. Fer was squeezing tight, it didn’t matter though. Frankly, this moment had to come eventually. Baalka was glad it did.

“I love you.” Fer said.

“I love you too sister.” Baalka answered back as she put her chin on Fer’s shoulder. “Did you need to tell me anything?”

“Nnhh.” Fer just murmured. “I just wanted to see you.” Baalka pressed her head into Fer’s. That golden hair was as soft as she remembered it. Maybe even softer.

“Thanks.”

“How are you finding it?”

“What?”

“Work.”

“Same old, same old.” Baalka said and Fer chuckled.

“Likewise here.” Fer said. “It’s good that you’re back. I rescued you, you know?”

“I got told.” Baalka replied dryly. “Thanks.” Fer spun around in another circle. “Can you let me down already?”

“Oh yeah.” Fer said, only to immediately not set her back down. “I almost forgot.”

“If you forgot, it wasn’t important in the first place.” Baalka said smugly. That was one of Fer’s own lines, it was downright stupid and Baalka liked to throw it around whenever the innate stupidity was revealed.

“No no.” Fer said, seemingly not catching on to the fact she was being mocked. “It is.”

“You almost forgot it.” Baalka said and kicked her legs. That seemed to remind Fer Baalka did not need to be carried anymore.

“You’re more important.” Fer said innocently as she brought out one of those phones. To that, Baalka had no snarky comeback. She just stood there and leaned on her sister. Fer was huge, twice her size easily. Baalka’s head barely reached her belt. It was sweet nevertheless.

“It’s good to see you too.” Baalka said.

“Oh aren’t you just the cutest little badger there is?” Fer cooed once again and Baalka rolled her eyes.

“Badgers carry diseases, they’re not cute.”

“Healthy ones don’t.” Fer said and Baalka supposed that she was right. Healthy badgers, as rare as they were, did not, in fact, carry diseases. “You have a nose like a badger.” Fer pressed down with one finger on Baalka’s nose and the Goddess of Disease ran a short distance away.

“What do badgers have noses like?”

“Cute buttons.” Fer replied and Baalka sighed. No point arguing. Frankly, she felt a smile crawling onto her face. As annoying as Fer was, there was no one else who had the bravery to say something like that to the Goddess of Disease. “And oh yeah. I almost forgot.”

“Are you high?”

“No?” Fer replied and Baalka rolled her eyes.

“You’re acting like it.”

“I’m high on happiness.” Fer replied with such confidence that Baalka honestly believe it. Of Disease’s smile grew wider. How could anyone be mad at this creature?

“I am happy too.” Baalka replied. “So? Before you almost forget.”

Fer showed off her phone to Baalka. “Look at this!” Baalka’s eyes grew wide as she looked at the news broadcast. It was a video of… Of an Archdemon being slain. Of every weapon the Empire had splitting it open. Of it collapsing backwards.

“That’s real?”

“Mmh it is.” Fer said, nodding. “Amazing, huh?”

“That’s…” No Divine about? Just humanity? Baalka stared at the fallen Archdemon in the water. In a hundred years, they had only managed to kill six of the creatures. Every single time, a full cohort of the sisterhood had to be deployed. Baalka had been there for four of the slayings. And each time, it had been a close fight. And now humanity did it alone? Baalka turned back to the trucks. Surely… “Incredible.”

“I know!” Fer exclaimed.

Baalka stared at those trucks and flexed her fingers. Incredible was one word. Unbelievable was another. And yet even though it was unbelievable, Baalka started to believe.

This time.

They would win.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep