With enough power, you can even refire a dying star.

– Ardan Proverb

Olephia stood before the wilted seed that was the World-Core. She had expected magma and ponds of endless flame, she had expected some ancient, never seen-before dwarven temple, she had expected a cave large enough to house a metropolis. Those would have all been fitting. Those would have made sense.

And somehow, these gleaming enclosure of gemstone and crystal made more sense. It was as if she stood inside a heart. Even her black Imperial coat and her cap seemed to shine and twinkle with all the shifting colours around her. There were pillars of glass that housed rainbows and shades, the walls were a splattering of every colour she had ever seen, she was sure that shapes moved within them. But then they retreated whenever her eyes cast their gaze upon them. Olephia took a deep in the silence of this precious abode.

The rest of the party had made distance so that Olephia’s voice would not annihilate them. Iniri had retreated. The dwarves had left. The scientists set up wires and cameras and spotlights to record and track the moment. They had even given her a headset to wear, one with a microphone! What that would do, Olephia did not know. She turned and waved to the camera. A moment later, sound came through the speakers on her ears. It was Iniri’s voice. “We’re ready here, you have the green light Olephia. Spark it.”

Spark it. Olephia smiled to herself. What a turn of phrase. The logic was simple. The World Core was supposedly an endless engine that had been drained and shut down in the past. It needed ignition. It needed energy. It needed a little of chaos to get crawl out of the terrible entropy that had befallen it. Olephia walked slowly to the oval of darkness, its bottom point was a point, its zenith a gentle crest. Her hand touched the outline of those rotten, dried out ridges. Had anyone ever touched it before? Was she the first?

This would definitely become a painting.

Olephia said a single word. “Start.”

Nothing happened.

Kassandora raised Joyeuse into the air and took a step back as demons overwhelmed the pikemen.

Olephia turned back to the cameras and smiled. Of course one word would not be enough. The power contained with a single syllable the dwarves would be able to conjure up. She was not needed if it would be so easy after all. She waved again. “We see and hear you Olephia.” Iniri spoke over the headset. The Goddess of Nature sighed through the speaker. “Did anyone ever tell you, you have a pretty voice?”

Olephia smiled, her teeth shining against the dazzling light around her. That compliment, only Arascus had ever given her. She gave another wave and a thumbs up to the cameras, then turned back to the sleeping engine that once powered an empire. One word was not enough to start a chain reaction. Two then. To bounce off each other and then start a fire that could continue by itself. “Turn on.”

Nothing happened.

Well of course it did not. Two sparks could not ignite a log no matter how dry it was. A little flame was needed. A push, not a prod, to get the gears spinning. Olephia added another syllable.

“Begin.”

Nothing happened.

Anassa took a deep breath and threw up once again, those MisseM pills that tasted of straight laboratory were utterly disgusting.

Olephia stared at the core. She had directed all the energy in her voice directly into its centre. It should have worked by now. Two syllables were enough to wipe out a city, to demolish a marching army. She turned back to the cameras and shrugged. The turned back to the sight of the White Pantheon’s greatest crime. “Ignite!” The fact she said it louder wouldn’t do anything. Olephia just wanted to see what the word would sound like.

And again, there was nothing. Not even a rumble. One syllable had been enough to clear out thousands of litres of the poisoned waters that had flooded and poisoned the depths of Klavdiv. Two syllables were not enough to even warm it up. It still felt cold to the touch. Not an unnatural freezing that was brought on by magic but just… cold in the same way that dead bodies were cold.

Olephia quickly thought of something fitting that would have three syllables. “Activate!”

Nothing happened.

Fer jumped from one bridge to the other to save a squad of Imperial soldiers that were trying to fall back.

Four syllables then. Four syllables were enough to warrant redrawing the maps. Mountains would razed into lakes under her power. Lakes would become canyons and quarries. And nothing would remain. Olephia took a deep breath and released a sigh. A sigh that should have warranted the breaking down of the atmosphere around her did nothing.

So she prepared the next word in her mind. What was this situation even? Well, she certainly knew what it was beginning to feel like.

“Calamity”

Nothing happened.

Baalka took a deep breath. How many waves was it now? She was starting to grow tired.

Olephia stared at this seed before her, her violet eyes wide in disbelief. It was one thing not to activate it. If she needed to say the word a hundred times over, she would. It was the fact that it did not rumble. It did not shake. It did not crack. It did not even warm up. The natural heat of her body seemed to have a greater effect on this stone than the power which struck at its very centre.

Very well then. Four syllables it could hold? Four then. Let’s see about five. She already had the word in her mind. It was the same one she used to vapourize the Caretaker when that tremendous beast had reared its ugly, mangled body from the Jungle. The same word that would had ended Titans and forever wiped them from the surface of Arda.

“Annihilation!”

Nothing happed.

Irinika looked at the eastern tunnel and the southern one. Again?

Olephia blinked in shock to the unmoving stone. She had to close her eyes for a moment and take another deep breath. She turned to the cameras and shrugged again. Then back to the Core. This tremendous seed, so much larger than her… Well, it did make sense. She was just a little Goddess that had barged into this room and then been task to kickstart a powercore that powered continents. “It has just taken five syllables.” Olephia said. She waited for a reply. Nothing came. The Goddess of Chaos rolled her eyes and tapped the microphone on the headset. “Hello? Is this on.”

“It’s on.” Iniri said. “I didn’t realise you were speaking to us.”

“It has just taken five syllables.” Olephia said and let the silence hang. Even with this speech, these sentences that would set horizons aflame, this thing did not move. Her mind searched for something more powerful.

“Is that bad?” Iniri asked.

“It’s unexpected.” Olephia raised an eyebrow and counted the syllables. Four only in unexpected.

She smiled to herself and sighed again. Still though, it was nice to have a conversation, if only for a little while. She could pretend to be able to talk.

“Hit it with six then.” Iniri replied. “Right?”

“I will.” Olephia’s mind searched for something. It was honestly infuriating. Oh? No. Five. Honestly just terrible. How stupid was she? To struggle for a word right now? She was the Empire’s last resort! She was the strongest and most powerful Divine on the face of this world! She was there to destroy walls when none could crack gates! And this measly little World Core denied her? This was her job! This was her…

“Responsibility!”

Nothing happened.

It wasn’t to her, but Fer heard the order coming from a nearby balcony. A captain was shouting to everyone who would listen. “Fall back! Fall back! To the Second Line!”

Olephia stood and stared. She felt her fingers tremble for a moment at the sheer excitement of it. Six syllables. She had never tried six syllables before. Five had been the utter limit and five was only rarely used for the amount of things that managed even one were one in a million. “Res-pon-si-bi-li-ty.” She said it said, slower this time and counted the syllables on her fingers. Six. Definitely six. It had taken six and it had not given a single response. Just how much power would it output? Olephia took a deep breath to stop her voice from cracking. “Iniri, it has just taken six syllables.” She said.

The reply came quickly. “Oh.” Iniri said. “Try seven then? We…” There was walking and shuffling the sounds of Imperial scientists talking. “I’m looking at the screens right now. There’s nothing. No movement, no heat spike even. You’re not even outputting radiation.”

“Great.” Olephia said. “Good to know.”

“Try seven. Go for it.”

Olephia stood her. Her mouth twisted. She… “Iniri…”

“What?”

“I am a stupid little girl and my mind has gone blank right now.” Olephia replied into the microphone.

The worst part was that Iniri didn’t even laugh at the joke. She just sounded concerned. “What?”

“I’m at a loss for words.”

“It’s sapped your power?” Iniri sounded panicked. The scientists curses were loud enough to be picked up. Olephia was sure one of them collapsed. Someone’s name was shouted and someone else called for a medic.

“No Iniri you idiot.” Olephia replied. “I’m actually at a loss for words. I can’t think.”

“Then…” Olephia rolled her eyes. Was this woman actually a cretin? Did her mind not work also?

“Feed me a seven-syllabler.” Olephia said. There was silence through the other side of the microphone. Iniri did eventually respond.

“This is harder than I thought.”

“Ask someone then.” Olephia replied dryly as her own mind searched through the dictionary. The more she thought, the worse it got. Right now, she was treading through swamps and sands and those didn’t even hit two. Iniri did ask someone. It took a moment, but she got a word. Olephia said it.

“Conceptualization!”

Nothing happened.

Elassa grit her teeth as she saw her gemstones start to dim. To think that this is what the Imperials had gone up against a thousand years ago.

“Has that done anything?” Olephia already knew the answer before Iniri’s reply came. The lights and rainbows and shadows still danced around through the gemstone hall. Olephia still stood where she stood. Her dark coat did not even sway in the still air. The cameras did not flicker. The sound through the speaker kept on rolling. The World-Core sat still, sat cold, sat uncracked, sat unchanged. How much power could it take?

“No.” Iniri replied.

“Another one then.” Olephia said. “Make it eight this time.” She did not even pretending to know at this point. It was the uncharted territory that explorers would talk about when they set sail in rickety wooden crafts and didn’t even know if they were going to come back. Her journey would not take months. “Eight syllables Iniri. I’m stuck.”

“We’re thinking.” Iniri said. There was talking from the other side. There was shouting. She asked a question. “Can you take science terms?”

“As long as its not some fake thing.” Olephia said. “Names of prescriptions aren’t real if that’s what you mean. It has to be a concept.” They had tested it with fake sounds in the past and gibberish. Those would produce the same explosions as a chain of single syllables.

“It’s not the name of a pill?” Iniri asked, obviously not to Olephia. The Goddess of Chaos stood, her hand on the World Core as she listened to that idiot on that other side. And Olephia smiled to herself. When did she get so bitter? Was she actually angry that she was so stupid? She turned to the cameras so that they would catch her sheepishly grinning expression. She wanted to know what she looked like right now. “So it’s a concept, it can’t… Okay. Olephia! We have one!”

Olephia turned back so that her voice would be aimed at the core. “Hit me with it.”

“Antiferromagnetism.” Olephia blinked as she mouthed it to herself. Once. Twice. Again. And then she realised what she was trying to say.

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

“What does that mean!?” Iniri shouted through the mic, immediately her voice became a moan. “It’s science-gibberish! It’s… ahh… non-magnetic and rotating differently I think.” Olephia smiled to herself. The first part was enough. Olephia voiced the science-gibberish.

“Antiferromagnetism!”

And nothing happened.

Iliyal stared at the letter that had come from high-command. “The Core Holds are being breached.”

“Nothing happened.” Olephia didn’t bother waiting for a confirmation this time. This was utterly pathetic. The most powerful Goddess in the world, one of the oldest Goddesses in the world and the greatest mind in the Empire and they were stuck because they couldn’t think of a word. “Another one.”

“Another one!” Iniri’s shout came through the speaker. There was more talk down there. “Can it be another language?” She asked.

Olephia blinked at the question. What? Of course… why couldn’t it be? “Yes?” She knew her answer sounded like a question, but it was difficult to say without a straight face.

“Come here!” Iniri shouted and Olephia stood unmoving.

“Was that to me?”

“No.” Iniri answered. “I’ll lean down, you speak into the microphone. Say it properly and slowly.” Olephia sighed. Well, at least Iniri was doing something, she couldn’t be faulted in this situation. If there ever was an abomination of a word, and if there ever was something that should not be said, it was what Olephia was just subjected to listening to. Through the microphone, a male voice came.

“Kreislaufunterstützungssystem.” The man said it slowly, stressing each syllable as he went.

“And that means what?”

“It’s the word for the circulatory support system in Dosch.” Olephia stood there, eyes wide. She mouth twisted into a smile. She wanted to burst out in laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

“Say it again, slower this time.” It took four attempts before Olephia was sure she could say it.

“Kreislaufunterstützungssystem!”

Nothing happened.

Anassa waved her hand. Another dozen demons were split in half. Another dozen came to fill the gap she had just made. She took a step back.

Olephia stared at the unmoving black stone. Nothing still. No reaction. No heat. No steam. She didn’t know what the situation was up above but she knew that they were in a time of war. People were dying because she was stood here, unable to think of a word. “Another one.” Olephia said. The reply came from the same man, almost immediately. Another terrible offensive against the decency of vocabulary.

“Bundesausbildungsförderungsgesetz!”

“What does that mean?” Olephia asked.

“It’s the name of the old Federal Assistance Training Law.” The man said. “Before Doschia was Imperial, we had it.”

“I said no fake words.” Olephia said.

“It’s a real word.”

“It’s a name.” Olephia declared and rolled her eyes. Whatever, she may as well say it now that she knew of it. What did she know of Doschian law anyway? Maybe it was in the dictionary, she wouldn’t put it past them. If they had a specific word for the circulatory system, why shouldn’t they have a word for a law?  “Alright, again, slower. Your language is hard.” It took a few too many attempts to pronounce. Olephia tripped over and bit her tongue several times. Eventually though, she did manage it.

“Bundesausbildungsförderungsgesetz.”

Nothing happened.

Fer looked around, her eyes widening. She hadn’t realised she was surrounded.

“Iniri?” Olephia said.

“I’m here.” Iniri replied.

“I need another. Not Dosch preferably.”

“Understood. We need another! That was a name! Not a word!” Olephia breathed a sigh of relief as she listened to mutterings and curses through the microphone. “You do have a pretty voice though.” Iniri said.

“It’s only pretty because you don’t hear it a lot.” Olephia replied, frankly, this was humans existed on this planet. If it was just Olephia alone down here, then she would be stuck for a hundred years. Her mind had wandered from the task entirely. “But thanks. I don’t get that a lot.”

“Oh?” Iniri asked. “You don’t mean ever?”

“Arascus said it to me once.” Olephia replied, her hand traced a ridge on the World-Core. “You’re the second person ever to say it to me.”

“I’m honoured.” Iniri said.

“Well I don’t get a chance to speak do I?” Olephia chuckled to herself. “You have a pretty voice too.”

“Don’t say that!” Iniri shouted back. “And-Oh! We have one!”

“Hit me with it.” Olephia said. Once again, there was shuffling. It wasn’t Iniri on the end of the microphone this time. A male voice, too deep for how quickly he talked.

“Goddess, I have one from Ihon. Here it is: Yorokobashikunakattaraba.” Ihonese? Excuse me? Since when did the Empire have scientists from there? And the man sounded far too proud of himself.

“That’s not one word.” Olephia said. She didn’t know if that was true or not. Frankly, the man had just hurled a salad of syllables at her in a quick manner.

“It’s a combination.” The scientist replied. “Like how fulfilment is fulfil with a suffix, you have yorokabashi which is-“

Olephia interrupted him. “Alright I’m not here for a lesson. How do you even know that word? You don’t sound like you from Ihon.”

“No…” He said. “I just… Ahh… it’s embarrassing Goddess.” Olephia shook her head with exasperation. Her said waved from side to side.

“Say it again, slower.” Even though it was long, the pronunciation was relatively easy. There weren’t any sounds that required her tongue to suddenly start pirouetting over itself. Olephia said it.

“Yorokobashikunakattaraba.”

Nothing happened.

Kavaa raised her sword and cut open some incubus that was trying to duel her. She grabbed Kassandora roughly by the arm and poured healing energies into her. The Goddess of War moaned as the pain of Kavaa’s healing filled her.

“Give me another.” Olephia said.

“We’re searching!” Iniri replied. “We’re…” She took a deep breath. “It’s…”

“It’s not over whilst I stand here.” Olephia said. “Keep yourself together Iniri.”

“I am.” Iniri said. This time, the word came faster. A man stepped forward. Iniri herself sounded in shock. “That’s… Alright.”

“What is alright?” Olephia asked.

“I’ll hand the mic over.” Iniri said.

“Goddess Olephia.” A man said, his tone the utter of politeness and respect. “I have a word but… It’s from my native tongue. I… Well, it’s not a joke.”

“Just say it.” Olephia said.

She heard something her mind struggled to untangle. “SähkömaksuvälineidenLatausPalvelu.” Frankly, there was more sense in the ridges of the dead World Core and the rainbow lights of this crystal cavern than there was in that morphing amalgamation of letters. “It’s difficult Goddess.”

“I hear you.” Olephia said. “Slow and steady. Walk me through it.”

Olephia could not be walked through it. She failed at the first. At the second. At the third syllable. She got to the fourth on one attempt and then managed to somehow screw up the first one all over again. Arascus could say it no doubt, Malam would probably get it on her first shot, as would Helenna and Kassandora and Anassa, but not Olephia. She simply did not speak enough to be able to work her mouth in such a way. “We have another one!” Iniri shouted.

Elassa raised herself off the ground and started to retreat. Around her, shards of ice materialized into the air and fell backwards. Fire danced around. Men dived behind cover and popped out from out of crenulations as Tartarus’ unending flood of bodies spilled through Hold Korkorikos.

“Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia.” The fact Iniri herself said was bad enough already. Olephia mouthed it, her subconscious mind set off the warning alarms before her mind managed to work out what was wrong. “Hip-po-po-to-mon.” That was five. Her free hand curled into a fist again. “Str-ses-quip-pe-da.” And again. “Lio…” She trailed off. There. That was the problem. Fifteen syllables. They had gotten to eight. They were not going from eight to fifteen in one jump. “I’m not saying that.”

“What?” Iniri shouted over the microphone.

“It’s fifteen syllables. We’ve not crossed ten yet.”

“And?!”

“Four require the redrawing of maps.” Olephia said. “It’s not even scale either. The sounds amplify each other. It is exponential Iniri. Each time, it more than doubles in strength. We’re not going that high so soon.” Olephia practically shouted at her friend.

“But Olephia!”

“Are you going to risk me destroying the Core flat out?!” Olephia shouted into the microphone. Silence. No. Of course she wasn’t. Olephia wouldn’t it risk either. “Give me a ten. Give me a thirteen. Then we have your fifteen. That’ll be good enough.” Frankly, with how little reaction it was showing, maybe they could get away with it. Maybe they could.

Maybe they could not though.

That was the great issue with Divinity. Arascus had explained it to her once. Back then, Olephia had been stunned someone understood her so well. She had to be disciplined because she did not know what she herself was capable of.

And when the damage could be done by something as simple and as easy as saying a word that was too long, then her discipline had to be the greatest there ever was. That was why she liked painting so much. A silent artform that spoke in words even the greatest linguists could only fantasize of uttering. “I have one!” A man shouted through the microphone.

Fer roared and barrelled through a demon thrice the size of her as he was about to crush a reversing Imperial truck. She came out covered in crimson on the other side in a shower of blood and was caught by the swing of another monster’s hammer. Bones shattered, her vision went dark for a moment, she felt something impact her side. Eyes blinking open revealed she had been flung through a wall. Demonic blood blazed in her stomach as she stood up and saw flames dance through Imperial and dwarven ranks. Great snakes of fire controlled by demons from a distance. It did not matter how many she killed, she was only an individual here. Powers like Anassa’s and Baalka’s could hold back an army, she could not.

The Goddess of Beasthood rose to her feet, arms swinging to her sides. She had lost track of time at this point. Her body was running entirely on the sustenance she gained from their blood. She launched forwards, towards the melee where a group of dwarves were brawling with demons more than twice their height. It didn’t matter if she could last forever anyway. The army would be swallowed eventually even if she was not.

This could not go on.

“Dvadtsatichetyryugol’nik.” Olephia took a deep breath. The man spoke before she could ask the question. “It’s a twenty-four sided polygon but it’s one word, like how triangle is one word. Or trapezium. It’s ten syllables as well.”

“Okay.” Olephia replied. “Slow and steady now.” The language was harsh and guttural, but it wasn’t impossible to copy. Her mouth twisted once. She bit her tongue another time. And she managed to say it.

“Dvadtsatichetyryugol’nik.”

Olephia stared at the World-Care. At its black shell. She wished she could just grab this object and force her energy into it with a scream. That stupid word Iniri had said was on the tip of her tongue. But ten to fifteen was a jump she would not cross. Not yet. “Give me one that’s twelve or thirteen.” Olephia said. “Skip eleven. I’ve not seen any changes here.”

“We don’t have anything on our readings either.” Iniri said. “Do you…”

Olephia knew what Iniri was going to ask. She would not even entertain the idea. “I will do it Iniri. If need be, then we bring Malam and Helenna down here and use their minds. Nothing is impossible for us. I will re-light the World-Core. We promised the suns under the surface would shine again. They will shine again. Because my father said it would be so and because there is nothing I cannot destroy or overpower. Now twelve or thirteen. We have fifteen-syllabler in the chamber already. We’ll go up to twenty if need be.”

Kassandora took a deep breath as she watched Kavaa hold back a steel door. Levhen had been overran, the defences in the Eastern Gate had fallen first. That had caused a domino collapse as troops had to retreat, had to rearrange, the halting of Kavaa’s conveyor line of clerics had been the final nail in the coffin. The Orchestra still controlled the scattered fragments of the army, at this point it was all the men had. Kassandora was sure that the moment she would let go, they would give one final charge and one last hurrah. Kavaa groaned as she pushed back against the steel, the stone around her cracking at the blows coming from the outside. Kassandora took a deep breath. “Kavaa.”

“What?!” Kavaa shouted. The team of men who had come back watched silently as they hastily refilled their magazines to the tune of trumpets under Kassandora’s command. Kassandora opened her mouth and found herself at a loss for words. There was too much to say. There was too much that should have been already. There was too little time. There was only one thing she could manage to voice.

“I’m sorry.”

The wait was agonizing. Olephia did not know how long she stood there. She just sighed as her mind went back to searching her internal dictionary. To think she had considered herself smart once. To think that she had stalled at such a time. She pressed her hand into the Core. It did not budge. That cool black stone remained cool black stone. The cascading rainbows in those gemstones, the shadows weaving around them did not seem to care for what she was doing. They just stood there.

Eventually, Iniri did speak again. “We have one. It’s ancient though, from a history book.”

“Tell me.”

“Honorificabilitudinitatibus.” Olephia narrowed her eyes, she was sure she had heard it in the past, before the Great War had even started.

“What does that mean? I’ve heard it before.”

“It’s ancient.” Iniri replied over the comms. “The state of being able to achieve honours?” It sounded as if she was questioning herself. “To be honourable I assume?”

“Good enough.” Olephia replied. “Very well.”  

She took a deep breath.

Practice wasn’t needed.

“Honorificabilitudinitatibus.”

…

..

.

It was Iniri’s voice that woke her up from the sheer shock of it. “Olephia.” The Goddess of Nature sounded as if she was in as great an awe as Olephia.

“Hmm?” Olephia was still tracing her palm, making sure she wasn’t mistaking the heat of her own body from with the heat she wanted to be feeling right now.

“We have a reading.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep