They have a turn of phrase on Arda, although it cannot be translated exactly as we do not have the rodent about, they commonly say that to succeed, one needs to ‘embody the mentality and spirit of a cornered rat’. A rat is a small animal on Arda, seemingly pervasive and everywhere. It is a cowardly scrap-eater that hides in the dark, an omnivore that is seemingly hunted by every animal around it, from their own pets to wild animals. It carries disease and is typically to be avoided. When cornered and when all hope is lost, the little creature will bite without hesitation for its life.

The phrase is innocent in some regard, it can be compared to our own sayings which talk about carrying on even when all hope is lost. It is something we say to children when they study, or to athletes when they are not to give up. Likewise, we would not ascribe being a “cornered rat” to a Divine, it would be farcical in fact. A Divine is a powerful creature, for a Divine to get into the position of a cornered rat would be… Well, it would be a failure of planning and strategy. It would be even more farcical to cloak groups with this mentality. A group cannot be a cornered rat, a group is a group, a rat is an individual.

The key to understanding Arda is to understand that entire nations have this mentality collectively. Arascus’ Empire, for all its celebrations and successes, considers itself little more than a rat cornered by a housecat. They treat the war as existential, the Imperials actually believe that once the White Pantheon wins the Arascan War, they will be put to the sword. Not only that, that their children will be put to sword, that their cultures will be eviscerated from existence, and then torn from history. The White Pantheon fights in the same manner.

The mistake in coming to Arda was believing Goddess Allasaria when she said it was a conflict. It is not a conflict, it is an existential crisis between two rats who have managed to convince themselves that the other is cornering it. Two rats made up of millions of lives, with thousands of Divines on either side. Two rats, with the only reason that they do not tear their corner to shreds being that they share it.

I thank whatever providence set existence upon that world, that it broke them into nation states which squabble. Paradeisius would be under existential threat where they able to extend this thinking to the planet.

Every single one of them we are there to annihilate them, and the only reason our presence is tolerated is because the annihilation they think we’ll inflict will simply come later than the annihilation they are currently inflicting on each other.

– “The State of Arda”, written in the Late Great-War, by Archangel Ibrahim.

Agrita made one final round through her trenches. Kavaa had positioned herself in the first line, although at least the Goddess of Health had a heavily armoured tank to either side. If that woman so much as got a scratch on her, then Agrita wouldn’t be surprised if she got executed for negligence. If Kavaa actually died… Well, Agrita didn’t even want to consider the sort of retribution that would come upon her.

Mid-way to the horizon, stood the three giants that were Fortia, Maisara and Fer. Each one worse than the other. When they had walked past Agrita, the Goddess of Rilia had felt like a child. Now, watching them idly chat as a demon prince approached, she felt even worse. Here she was, marching in between men, running her hand over her back to make sure her spear was present. Checking her armour every minute, glancing at the men in the grey coats. Making sure the tanks were running, inspecting the crates of spare ammunition, running radio checks, even making sure that the men’s weaponry was shiny and clean. It was exhausting work.

And those three were just stood there, chatting about who knew what. It was another realm of existence entirely. They were about to face an army, and they were chatting. The fact it was Pax, who could not be harmed whatsoever, had what effect on them? Seemingly none? Agrita shook her head and continued her trot through the lines. Tanks in dugouts, men within trenches, barbed wire, everything short of landmines, and that was because they simply did not have the time.

Over the hill behind the big three, white banners slowly marched. Demonic knights on hellsteeds with manes of flame, greater demons that could crush tanks, succubi which hovered low in the air. Legionnaires in the full blackplate of Tartarus. That armour was thick enough to even glance bullets when they came in at an angle. Agrita stopped her march and released the breath. Now the wait was over, it was in fate’s hands now. Or Kassandora’s. And Agrita much preferred her chances with the certainty of Kassandora rather than with the whimsy of fate.

A flare was shot up in the air from the first trenchline,s one of the troops that Kassandora had supplied. Green.

In the distance, to the east, from deeper in Rilia, another flare replied. Green.

So it began.

…Dysfunctional and aggressive…

Kassandora saw the chain of green flares in the distance. It was a massive amount of links, far more than necessary, especially when they had the radio, but the idea was to make this the most complicated, dysfunctional plan imaginable. She was already counting it off in her mind, each of those soldiers who fired a flare was instrumental in the killing of Pax, each one of them would effectively be a killer of Pax. The list of names would grow so large that the no matter what it was that protected Pax, they would be overwhelmed. “It’s beginning.” Kassandora said. “Prepare the battery.”

By Kassandora’s side, Arascus did not move. He had stood there like a patient statue in his uniform of black and white and red, with slithers of gold fabric to bring out the contrast in the colours. “What a wait.” He said.

“What a wait indeed.” Kassandora confirmed, she stood next to her father, if there was anyone who would not hit her, even accidentally, it would be him. And she finally allowed herself a release of the deep breath. No radios here, she had no clue how this Divine entity operated. Maybe it travelled through physical lines? Maybe she would be unable to give the confirmation order to begin the operation?

The wind started to pick, it raced past Kassandora’s legs and blew her red hair like a flowing cape. Arascus stretched out an arm to the side. “In that direction.” He nodded towards the general area of the battle.

“Towards the storm when you see it.” Kassandora replied. Arascus would not be doing the killing, he would just be providing the ammunition for today. No one would be doing the killing. It would be an orchestra of chaos, of a thousand different various, it would be an infinitesimally small chance to succeed. And Kassandora would try a million, a billion times if that is what it took. She glanced backwards the grass was illuminated by a new shade of colour: solid gold.

Behind Arascus, the air had become his golden swirling portals. A barrier so large, it could have been called the Ardan Ashfront, save for the fact that there wasn’t a shred of ash in the wall of solid gold which stretched from horizon to horizon and to the height of a skyscraper. A blade slid out close to Arascus. The tip of a long-sword, Great War era from the looked of it. Then another. A third. An axe followed by a spear. An armoury worth of weapons which faintly trembled in the air as they prepared to be let loose.

A hundred.

A thousand.

Countless.

…a miracle that they haven’t rendered their planet uninhabitable…

Fer kicked into action. Her, Maisara and Fortia were much too old to wait for battle orders. Fights began as quickly as they started. The goal was simple, find Pax, isolate him, and clear out as many of the demons as possible. That was the sort of plan Fer relished. It was simple, it was effect, it had no complicated steps, and let her do what she did best.

She raced towards that demonic legion as they marched over the cliff. Maisara followed close in behind, the Goddess of Order had finally equipped her tower-shield in her hand. Her executioner’s axe was held by the held, Maisara had it ready as if it was a huge scythe to cut down the demon’s forces. Fortia stayed behind. Of Peace twisted to the side, planted one foot straight forwards, the other behind her and off to the side. Her arm was raised as if it was ready to grab a javelin. Her other pointed forwards for balance as Of Peace materialized her weapon.

Fer smashed through the demons like a bull smashing through a rack of blood-bags. Demons were ripped and torn into shreds. Their black armour, their white banners and capes, their blades and shields, their flesh and bones all was ripped as easily as paper being torn to shreds. Of Beasthood tasted their blood on her lips, she felt it warm up her flesh, her claws extended, her eyes turned into a terrible crimson, and she roared through the initial lines like a bowling bowl set upon pins.

Maisara followed up behind Fer, carving her own path through the horde. Where Fer charged and overwhelmed and terrified to stop herself from even being attacked. Maisara danced from spot to spot, she never left the ground, her shield spinning around like a sledgehammer or a battering ram, her axe cut down a dozen a demons with each blow. Any counter attack that fell upon of Order was swiftly dodged by the creature more than twice as large as the demons.

Fer smashed through a hellsteed, her claws tore the mount in half, her jaws caught the neck of its rider as demons began to scatter under the relentless assault of two Divines. Spears as they tried to catch the monster shredding through their ranks, Fer either slid underneath them, or let her body catch the points. With fresh blood burning in her stomach, her muscles regenerated and caught the weaponry before it from deep. She tasted their training, felt their tactics and strategies course into her mind.

The two Divines purposefully drove in so deep that the first line shattered. Its remains ran away as sergeants tried to regain control. The second line fell upon them. One Divine pirouetting, her axe extended, striking in almost all directions simultaneously. The other bounced from demon to demon as she ripped out heart and drank blood and split demons in two with her bare hands.

And then Fer stopped when she realised just how deep she had driven. She had not realised she was burning through magical flame, nor had she cared for the Greater Demons mid-way through the horde. Those had seemed so far away when she started. And now one of them was preparing to brings its hammer down upon her.

Fer flinched at the sheer sound of the sonic boom from behind her. An instant later, the massive demon was ripped apart by the force of Fortia’s spear travelling faster than sound ripped it in half.

…mastering a warfare for warfare’s sake, with no foundations of honour or chivalry…

Leonid, 4^th

Rilian Motorized Magical Infantry, raised his hands into the air. So the wizards and witches around him. It was one of the oddest jobs he had ever received. To generate a storm without a communion, or rather, to force a hurricane into existence whilst he was responsible for only one part of it, one he couldn’t even place when he felt the amount of magic spark up around him. Mages had streamed from every part of Rilian, even the trainees of Arcadia had been sent to fly over. Those Arcadian-thoroughbreds, trainees though they were, could still output more than twice he had ever managed.

Leonid poured more of his will into the air as he in whatever air he could find. It was pure chaos. No restrictive rules had been given. In fact, it had even been encouraged to try and steal from each other and lob every strand of wind they could manage towards that general area. Not down at the ground, but to create a level of turbulence that would reverse a bullet in flight above the battle where Fer, Maisara and Fortia were currently fighting.

Leonid felt another mage rip his wind away from him and add it to their own flow. He couldn’t even tell who did it as Kassandora’s plan turn, whatever it was, descended into pure chaos. He grabbed at the air from behind him and lobbed it forwards, just generally towards he was meant to target. He ripped at winds being held together by another’s magic and simply threw it towards Pax’s white Legion. He raised his glowing staff, a narrow tornado sprouted ahead of him, its undulations from side to side syncing up perfectly with the chant escaping his lips.

That tornado turned as a demon was thrown up into the air. The sonic booms, marking each time the sound barrier was broken, were coming frequently now. The demon in the air screamed as a thousand different storms caught him and bounced him around like dogs playing with their prey. He escaped eventually, not down but up. He flew like a mortar shell towards the south.

And even then, Leonid gave more. His body settled into a motion now. Arms would be flung back, his staff topped off with a pure Arcadian-transmuted diamond sparked brighter. His rings flashed as he grabbed, his fists closed in time to his chant. He dragged and hurled another gust of wind towards the storm.

He closed his eyes for just a moment. That made him only more aware of the weaves and the amount of individual threads in the air. And those strings of individual magic were blinding under their sheer chaos as they popped in and out of existence, without rhyme or rhythm, with each mage simply trying to seize and rip and tear from a table far too small for them.

A blade shot across the sky.

…with mindsets that are thousands of years outdated…

Maisara moved as she always did. One foot always on the ground, never leaving for the air, the shield spun around her as winds began to moan, then shout, then scream in some attempt to sound like the sky vomiting up sheer energy down at them. Her hair whipped about in the winds, but whatever was happening above was Kassandora’s plan, and that was enough for Maisara to not need to check it. She swung her axe again and another tight back of demons were beheaded.

Others tried to form a pike-wall with weaponry just shorter than Maisara’s axe. Of Order twisted the heavy shield to break them. Spear either snapped or was ripped out of soldier’s hands. She took a step almost as fast as Fer’s now, and swung her axe to split them in two. Fire sprouted from below her, a sonic boom answered it. The succubus in the air simply disappeared as Fortia’s spear caught and dragged it off a thousand miles away. A cavalry charge was broken by the shield, the animals were beheaded in one long blow that had more in common with a scythe going through grass than a weapon destroying an entire troop of soldiers.

One step to the right to get out of the way to get out of the way of a poke, a hop back into an area she had just cleared, then a charge forward to bring her axe down. Fer ripped through a dozen teams to the side of Fortia, Of Beasthood fought like a bowling ball intent on using its own mass to exterminate the enemy. A greater demon’s head crossed the zenith of the hill and was greeted by another gong of a sonic boom. The creatures head could not up to artillery even when armoured, and Fortia sniped like a biological railgun. Fer dashed past Maisara again, sending up a cascade of red blood. Some splashed on Of Order, some more fell on the ground, the vast majority went up to paint the sky crimson.

And Maisara kept on moving. She saw the demons movement’s, her eyes tracked those that were about to raise their arms. At the very least, it was commendable that they realised the pike was more effective than a sword. The former had at least a theoretical chance of reaching. Maisara dashed to the side again, a quick series of sidesteps to get out of a cavalry charge. She planted her shield into the ground, practically stabbing it into the dirt, and heard Fortia’s spear once again come through. The shield, frankly, only slowed her down. What was Kassandora even thinking requesting such a thing? A small buckle or any round shield would have been twice as effective and wouldn’t be slowing her down.

She took a step forward and then felt the lull in the battle. A blade suddenly sprouted from the before her. A blade she did not know the name of, but she could probably guess the creature of it. She blinked and analysed it again: Not black Tartarian metal but grey Ardan steel.

Maisara glanced up to see where the fuck that sword came from.

And she finally understood that purpose of the tower shield.

The sky juggled a snowstorm of steel.

…the most unpleasant people I have ever come to spend time with…

Kavaa stared down at the sword that had just hit her trench. She had not been too annoyed by Kassandora’s decision to bring her out of the battle, it was the fact that Fortia, Maisara and Fer all reasoned in the same fashion that her presence would simply slow them down.

Now though, as she and the troops around her silently watched the utter slaughter that the three Divines were inflicting, she could not argue with their logic. Maisara weaved her way through demonic ranks, her posture perfect, her moves pristine, her axe was practically an extension of her. She twisted and turned and weaved her way like a snake through the enemy ranks. Once, she heard a human describe how Maisara had fought: something that large should not move so fast or so gracefully.

Fer was a cannonball acting like a pinball through the enemy ranks. She launched herself through enemy troops, tearing them apart with her claws and her teeth and her tail. The Goddess, even down to her golden hair, had been covered in a thick layer of their blood, she still found the time to roar and howl after every kill. Whether it was a legionnaire less than half her size, a horse that reached up to her waist or a greater demon in full armour, she would simply hurl herself to crush through sheer mass backed by the sharpness of her claws.

Fortia had moved from her position. She stood in her throwing posture, loosing her spear to the gong of a sonic boom, giving it a second of flight and then rematerializing it back into her grip for yet another attack. The succubi had been forced out of the air, their flames were now sparse. And Fortia would not give them a moment’s of rest. The larger creatures were obviously for her. Her spear simply went through them, the wide tip was a hammer, not a needle, when it came down.

Frankly, Kavaa had forgotten what this lot were capable of. Now, seeing it from a distance, she had to agree. She would only slow them down.

But it was the sight above that made Kavaa thankful Kassandora had not sent her in, and baffled as to how Of War had even considered it in the first place.

A endless flurry of blades coming in from the north of Apoli, their flight almost lethargic and slow were being sent into the storm. The first few blades had been caught in the winds and they had simply crashed into each other or ripped through the demons that Fer threw into the air. But that river of steel had slowly filled up the winds, blade crashed on blade. They had sparked, they had even ripped through each other, and they slowly filled the pool.

And now, the pool was overflowing. The gap between the third blade being knocked out of the storm had been half the time as the first to the second. Now, every few seconds a blade would come down. Most were harmlessly hurled to stab into grass. One had managed to stab into a demon and fell the invader. One had almost reached the trenchline.

Agrita started to shout for the men not to watch and to take cover.

…every solution they have is an exercise in how close one can get to extermination…

Fortia flexed her fingers and twisted her torso. One more for good measure, at a pack of cavalry that were trying to charge upon Maisara. Of Order had claimed a killzone around her, it was moving, true, to always stay around the Goddess, but it was the sheer unrelenting madness of Fer who somehow managed to rip her way from one side of the legion to another. The cavalry had formed a line, Fortia smiled to herself: big mistake. She twisted, dug her foot into the dirt, bent over and used her free arm for more mentum into the throw.

Once again, the sound barrier broke around and dug the ditch she had formed through throwing her weapon slightly deeper. A cloud of dirt exploded into the air around her and then fell back to the ground. And this time, she did not recall her spear immediately. Instead, her eyes went to that massive cloud above Pax’s legion. It was as dark as an ocean storm in full swing right now, but ocean storms had lightning. They did not have the faint sparks of orange light that came about when steel smashed against steel. Ocean storms did not glint like an array of rotating mirrors either. And, most importantly, ocean storms spewed water when they descended, not steel.

The blades were falling down rapidly now. The field around Fortia had grown a tangle of small steel trees. The three Goddesses sent off to fight were dangerous, but they were swiftly losing their position as the most dangerous in the area. That title had to go to… to who exactly? It all clicked in Fortia’s mind when she realised what Kassandora had done. Arascus was not responsible, for he was not targeting Pax. Nor would any single mage be responsible, for none of them were here to harm Pax either. Throwing air into that storm was irrelevant to the demon’s survival. That storm had a mind of its own, and it was a mind that relied entirely on the lottery of physics and chance. An infinitely small chance to hit Pax. Even now, Arascus pumped even more of his weaponry into that storm. An infinitely small chance, ran an infinite amount of times.

What a marvellous plan. She would have never thought of such insanity.

Fortia dropped her tower shield in front of her and lowered her head.

She heard the thud, thud, thud of weapons slamming against it.

…The planet’s beauty is tarred by its inhabitants…

Fer tipped her head and drank a vial of Kavaa’s blood as steel began to rain from the skies. She felt of Health’s sheer endless power set alight in her stomach. A blade that tried to get into her shoulder was cracked her skin and bounced off. This wasn’t Divine weaponry, the swords weren’t even coming down at the speed of bullets. It was a mass of steel that would randomly drop. How could a mental block work against that?

Now, it was time to find the culprit. To confirm Kassandora’s hypothesis, and to see whether they could run a DDOS attack on the universe. The demons had stopped trying to fight, they had broken under the steel rain. Shield were being raised above their heads, even Maisara had stopped fighting and was waiting out the storm with her tower shield above.

But not Fer, she ignored the damage. Kavaa’s lifeblood made it a non-threat. She stood tall, her nose picked out the various smells. And she found the bitterness of pure demonic blood ahead of her. Pax stood in front of her, in full blackplate, his helm customized to allow the crown of white horns exit. He stared at Fer, time to test just how well Kassandora could overwhelm the mathematician that was reality. She pounced to the ground, the flung herself at the demon with his torn cape.

And just as always her body hit that wall in that final moment. Pax said nothing, he just stared and raised his blade, Fer ducked away as Kavaa’s blood raged inside her to heal the cuts and jabs here. So the power still worked. Fer just stood there, watching Pax, remaining silent for there was no point to even attempt talking under a sky that screeched like a thousand blacksmith’s forges. Another blade came down and cut Fer on the leg. Then again, on the calf. Her regeneration clod the small cuts almost immediately. Fer just stood and waited for the impossible.

And the impossible did occur. A blade came from the steel cloud, it was targeted almost perfectly at Pax. A gust of wind pulled it to the side. And it slit the demon’s cheek. Pax stood there, as if confused for a moment. Slowly, his palm went to his cheek and returned red. Pax stared at the blood. At his own blood.

And Fer smelled the sweetest emotion, finally. It was thick here, but when it was Pax’s it was even sweeter. She could smell the sheer virginity washing away and sending the demon into panic:

Fear.

…Arda destroying itself would be the best case scenario.

– Excerpts from the accounts of individual Paraideisian soldiers from the Arascan War compiled into a tome.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep