[Outer-Sector: Outskirts of Corzox]
"HAH!, This is going to be a hearty bloodbath.", Varcielle's clones mused, clenching their fists, their hearts brimming with anticipation. The ominous spectral aura shrouding them in a tight embrace, gently flowing across their physique. Grinning mad, each clone had a mysterious Blue Eye doused in shadows hovering behind them, like a Halo.
[Phobos] was gasping and heaving, reeling from the impact of the first blow. He was trembling, as he glared at the clones. He was in a state of shock, but before he could gather his thoughts-
BOOM!!!
Another blow was struck, as the clones ceremoniously spiraled around [Phobos]. The first clone continued brutally pummeling [Phobos] with a few clones firmly locking him in place. The rest began ripping [Phobos] apart, as they began slashing, biting and gnawing into him. [Phobos] tried to escape their grip but to no avail, the clones wouldn't budge.
"RRAAANGRRHH!!!", the clones roared in unison. Their cries reverberating across the Gray Arena.
Varcielle's clones could barely hold their ecstasy, smiling wide as they ripped away [Phobos'] flesh and bones, bludgeoning him without rest. [Phobos] tried opening his mouth to unleash [The Mist], but a clone grabbed him by his jaw and held him up, crushing into his jaw. {Phobos'] face scrunched up with a look of shock and indignation, as his jaws began to crack. The clone began flying erratically with others spiraling around him. He spun and flung [Phobos] back into the mob of clones, where another clone erratically grabbed him by his mouth.
The clones continued erratically flinging [Phobos] at each other, while simultaneously assaulting him mid-air. They shot intense beams of energy and arcane magic at [Phobos], while gutting and mauling him. His thoughts were in a disarray, words failed to escape his mouth. But, the clones were ruthless and relentless, they continued swarming him like vultures.
The invasion had begun in full force, endless races of [Yggdrasil] began pouring into the gray arena. Monsters, elves, fire giants, dwarfs, so on and so forth. Their formidable armies charging across the vast arena towards [Corzox], following after [The Jotnar] fleet.
"||AAARRGGHHH||", their vast armies bellowed in a blaze of ambition and glory
Meanwhile, within the crumbling slab formation. Varcielle had successfully trapped [Hermes], with his clones firmly rooting [Hermes] in place. The outer-perimeter of the slab formation continued to contract, making the space within tighter and tighter. As the outer perimeter constrained, pressing the clones against [Hermes] from all directions.
[Hermes] groaned in frustration, as he tried to squirm his way out. The clones firmly clasped his body, tugging at his limbs. All of them whispering in unison:
"Boom!"
The clones began bulging in mass, immense heat emanating from their physique. Their hides shearing away, ripping apart. A colossal burst of ethereal energy erupted as each clone detonated simultaneously, unleashing their dying wrath upon [Hermes].
But before the ethereal blast could engulf [Hermes], with a mischievous and malicious glint in his eyes, he unleashed his innate ability:
[Voyage]:
[Hermes] sighed in solitude, resolute as he was. A magnificent pair of majestic, resilient wings of brilliant Gold and Bronze unfurled from his back. Gleaming like a beacon of hope within the swarm of dragon clones. The world stood still, like a painting on a canvas. As if everyone was locked within a singular frame, the crumbling slab formation, the vicious ethereal flames of explosion and the army of Endless races invading, all stuck in a bizarre tapestry. Within that still world only one character moved, a malevolent smug grin, a carefree attitude. [Hermes] casually strolled within the canvas.
He winked at me (Xyrak: "Hmmm.., he can sense me? Heh.") watching him, as he tore through that canvas. Several bizarre sequences of frames appeared in front of him in a chronological order. He filtered through the frames, till he found the shortest sequence to reaching Phobos. Snapping his fingers, he dispelled every irrelevant sequence and frame, till all that remained was a frame of [Phobos] getting pummeled by Varcielle's clones.
Approaching the frame, he marked every clone within that frame. Like blemishing a canvas, he smudged the clones off, wiping them out. And, then entered the frame.
The clones warped and imploded, dying instantly. [Hermes] dove down, elegantly grabbing [Phobos], gently carrying him up. His lustrous wings gleaming in all his glory.
[Phobos] was reeling from exhaustion, heaving and wheezing in pain and torment. Bleeding out gold ichor onto [Hermes'] hands, dripping down below to the cold gray ground. He lay limp, shocked and furious. His body bruised and slashed, his face mauled in utter brutality.
"Rest and heal, I shall coordinate with Thanatos for now.", [Hermes] gently nudged [Phobos], as if he were coddling a child.
Simultaneously, The Crumbling Majestic slab formation, exploded in blazing fury. Releasing torrents of Spectral aura and ethereal energy across the Gray Arena. The Endless races of [Yggdrasil] were charging below on the Gray Arena. Their armies swept by the vicious and volatile storm of Spectral aura and Ethereal Energy, disorienting and suppressing them.
A sphere made of Dragon Remains fell towards the gray arena, drilling a hole into it. The remains assimilated back into the Dragon King Varcielle, as he momentarily recuperated within the burrow he had made for himself.
[Phobos] coughed up more ichor, looking extremely pale. [Hermes] warped [Phobos] using his ability [Voyage], pulling [Phobos] out of the chronological sequence and storing him within the realm between Frames.
While, the armies of the Endless Races were in a disarray due to the explosion of the Slab formation and as [Hermes] was handling [Phobos], the demons made their move.
"||Move Aerico, you blithering slob!!!||", [Gaki] screeched, his swarm of rattling bodies charged towards [Hermes] himself with malicious delight. "||This is our time to strike.||"
"Don't tell me what to do!!!, Pissant.", [Aerico] snapped right back, yet he charged towards the armies of the Endless races disoriented on the gray Arena.
[Aerico] descended upon the Endless races in all his grotesque and rotund glory. His bloated and bulbous body smashing down on the invaders. All the mouths randomly riddled on his grotesque bodies, began feasting and vomiting on the armies that surrounded him. [Aerico] wheezed, spreading spores around himself, infesting the races who were desperately trying to defend themselves against this demon.
The Invaders began fleeing towards [Corzox] away from [Aerico], who kept chasing after them.
[Hermes] observed [Gaki] advance towards him from afar. [Hermes'] golden wings gleamed bright, as he faced [Gaki] with a mischievous and malevolent glint in his eyes and a carefree smile:
[Voyage]
******** ******** ********
[The Outer-Sector: The Kingdom of Corzox]
[The Jotuns] were speeding towards the inner city of [Corzox], with Lothaar leading the charge as their vanguard from his humble ship [Skjolio]. His vast armada of ships formed a tight formation behind him resembling a bullet. [Lothaar's] Admirals [Nerjil], [Junmei], [Phion] and [Goro] strictly adhered to his strategy.
[Lothaar's] fleet formed the framework of the formation, while [Nerjil] and [Junmei] used their fleets to form an external perimeter around [Lothaar's] framework. Their fleets moved in a helical pattern firmly securing the armada formation together.
At the center of the formation was the ominous ship of nails [Naglafar] commandeered by Captain [Mubong], surrounded by his fleet, guarded by the legion of the giant [Phion]. [Goro's] fleet encircled [Mubong] and [Phion], while staying within the formation's external perimeter.
[Halibaard] and his cult of Oracles coordinated [The Jotun] armada under [Lothaar's] command. Each Admiral was assigned an Oracle to guide them. While, [Halibaard] was onboard [Skjolio] aiding [Lothaar] with revelations and divinations.
[The Jotun] armada had spanned a considerable distance within the [Kingdom of [Corzox]], zipping past ginormous islands, vast planes, plateaus and mountains, making a beeline through several sub-domains. All the while being monitored by the Rift-borne forces laying in wait.
The six Dragon Sentinels that had retreated from the gray arena, had already recuperated. Five of them were commanding and coordinating the Rift-borne legions, preparing them for the incoming race of Invaders. Discreetly repositioning the Rift-Borne to slowly encircle the advancing [The Jotun] Armada.
There was one Dragon Sentinel, coordinating with other Sentinels that were stationed within the Inner city of [Corzox], namely Typhon and Malgus, alongside two other Dragon Sentinels, Sherpa and Genma, who were responsible for keeping the Ancestral Planes safe and hidden.
"Fortify the inner city.", Balrog instructed, Typhon and Malgus.
Then he addressed Genma and Sherpa-
"Prepare for phase two, set the beacon. [The Jotuns] are the first batch of invaders to have breached in."
Typhon and Malgus, rallied their forces creating a strong perimeter around the inner city. Civilians were escorted into bunkers or were safely evacuated out of the city.
Meanwhile, Genma and Sherpa conjured a construct made up of ethereal energy resembling a door, shrouded by a mysterious spectral aura. This construct faintly distorted the realm of [Corzox], sending forth a faint pulse rippling across the outer sector. The beacon was set but it was discreet, not perceived through the visible spectrums of light, but echoing along the abstract tapestries of fate and destiny.
The construct was then engulfed by pitch black shadows, refining into a miniscule orb that sputtered and dispersed into the environment, forming a fog of subtle transparent embers.
"The Beacon is set.", Sherpa informed.
"Good.", Balrog responded, as the transparent embers arched past him spreading across the Kingdom of [Corzox].
"The beacon will distort divinations for the time being, potentially stalling their advance.", Balrog thought, as he signaled the other five Dragon Sentinels to begin their assault.
"Mijar Al Valtoruk!!!", The Rift-borne roared as they erupted into action, surrounding [The Jotun] Armada.
[Lothaar] casually looked at [Halibaard], as his [Jotun] armada began engaging the Rift-borne in combat. The Dragon Sentinels directly confronted [Lothaar], [Nerjil] and [Junmei]. The conflict was intense, with the Rift-borne immediately diving onto [Jotun] ships and picking off Giants. The Giants rallied their forces to retaliate against the vicious Rift-borne onslaught. The battle was a cesspool of Arcane blaze and Frost fury. Yet, the armada continued it's charge unfazed.
Unbothered by it all, [Halibaard] was seated at the center of an arcane circuit engraved in blue blood. His hands were raised in enigma, swaying it gently in the atmosphere, trying to grasp for strands of Fate. His starry blue eyes reflecting his madness, his sooty gray beard fluttering in fanatism. Pale cyan wisps of mist oozed from his palms, softly freezing the blood used in the circuit.
He swirled his head, firmly clasping his marble white palms. In an ominously raspy voice, he whispered with insanity, a deathly chant tributing fate:
"||ᚢᚱðᚱ, ᛏᛟ ᚤᛟᚢ ᚹᛖ ᛒᛖᛩᚢᛖᚨᛏᚺ ᛟᚢᚱ ᚨᛗᛒᛁᛏᛁᛟᚾᛋ.
ᚡᛖᚱðᚨᚾᛞᛁ, ᛏᛟ ᚤᛟᚢ ᚹᛖ ᛒᛖᛩᚢᛖᚨᛏᚺ ᛟᚢᚱ ᛚᛁᚡᛖᛋ.
ᛋᚴᚢᛚᛞ, ᛏᛟ ᚤᛟᚢ ᚹᛖ ᛒᛖᛩᚢᛖᚨᛏᚺ ᛟᚢᚱ ᚹᛁᛚᛚ.||"
The blue blood engraved into the arcane circuit churned and slithered under [Halibaard's] meticulous control. The Rift-borne and Frost giants clashed in brutal frenzy, hacking and slashing away, yet [Halibaard] was at peace. His whispers grew louder as he reached further into the strands of Fate. Arcs of faint transparent embers huddled around his head, blowing up to black flames, seeping into his mind.
Looking up, his eyes widened and his mouth opened, spewing out blue wisps of mist. His body levitated, as he was enlightened with a mural:
{"An Ethereal Gateway,
Four brave frost giants,
One makes it in,
Three are left behind."}
[Halibaard] grinned with delight, smug and bashful.
"Fate is by our side.", He thought with joy, softly gazing at the [Heart of Ymir]. "One Jotun makes it to the other side."
As the conflict escalated between the Rift-borne and Frost giants, the Captain of [Naglafar] Mubong sat leisurely in his cabin. He was busy making a diary entry. By his side was a caged Jade monkey, chattering in frustration and before him was one of [Halibaard's] oracles, called Hrimulfr.
Mubong momentarily lifted his pen, casually glancing at the pale white bony Giant Hrimulfr, who was muttering the same chant as [Halibaard]:
"||ᚢᚱðᚱ, ᛏᛟ ᚤᛟᚢ ᚹᛖ ᛒᛖᛩᚢᛖᚨᛏᚺ ᛟᚢᚱ ᚨᛗᛒᛁᛏᛁᛟᚾᛋ.
ᚡᛖᚱðᚨᚾᛞᛁ, ᛏᛟ ᚤᛟᚢ ᚹᛖ ᛒᛖᛩᚢᛖᚨᛏᚺ ᛟᚢᚱ ᛚᛁᚡᛖᛋ.
ᛋᚴᚢᛚᛞ, ᛏᛟ ᚤᛟᚢ ᚹᛖ ᛒᛖᛩᚢᛖᚨᛏᚺ ᛟᚢᚱ ᚹᛁᛚᛚ.||"
Turning to the Jade monkey, Mubong pondered:
"Do you actually believe that their plan would work?", he asked the monkey.
"Graukk?...", the monkey grunted back in disinterest.
"I mean, if it were left to me. I would have just bolted away the moment I saw the Olympian.". chuckled Mubong. "These sure are bold ones, or maybe just desperate."
"Graakk!!!", the monkey screeched back.
"Maybe, I am being paranoid. But, this heist, this whole charade seems suspicious. I just can't seem to brush off this feeling, I feel it in my guts!", Mubong exclaimed, as he glared at the Jade Monkey screeching and rattling it's cage.
"Kreee!!! Kreee!!!", Monkey kept screeching, howling and rattling.
"These Jotuns are too damn confident, too confident for their own good.", Mubong muttered, banging the monkey cage. "Shut up!"
Hrimulfr suddenly opened his eyes wide, as he was forcefully pushed from the arcane circuit. His chanting disrupted.
"Look you woke him up, you dump ape.", Mubong grumbled at Jade Monkey, shaking his cage.
"Welcome back to the land of living, my friend.", Mubong addressed Hrimulfr with a broad smile.
"H-Huh?..", Hrimulfr stuttered before realizing what just happened. He scrambled back towards the arcane circuit only to be blocked by an invisible construct. The arcane circuit was surprisingly functioning properly, but there was a bizarre foreign sigil resembling infinity, etched at the center of the circuit.
Mubong's face twisted into an eerie grin:
"Hmmm... Interesting..."
******** ******** ********
[The Outer-Sector: Kingdom of Corzox]
"It's seems like the natives and the Frost Giants are having fun.", Akelus chuckled, observing the battle between the Rift-borne and [The Jotuns] from afar. Leisurely perched on a branch, hanging by the edge of a floating island.
"You are missing out Adrian.", he mused while gently tapping his jester mask.
"Well Akelus, that would be my cross to bear.", retorted Adrian. "At least, the worst has passed for now."
"That, I agree. We managed to survive [Hermes].", Akelus replied casually. "Me and my buddy Xylus do make a great team."
"Who?" Adrian asked.
"A native I picked up, he has been helping me, you know repairing my robes and acting as my Guide.", Akelus answered, gently tapping his feet. "Xylus meet Adrian, Adrian meet Xylus."
"H-hello...", Xylus anxiously stuttered in his childish voice.
"You employed a kid?!?", Adrian lampooned.
"Relax Adrian, Xylus has enough experience. He even helped me hide my presence as well as fixed my robe.", Akelus assured. "Besides, we should rather be discussing our gameplan, than waste our time arguing about ethics."
"Haaa...", Adrian sighed. "Fine, let's start with you. You said you had a way in, care to elaborate?"
"My plan as mentioned before, is to have [The Purge] descend upon this realm. Then we use that to breach the [Source].", Akelus explained. "We all know that [The Purge] is the one weaving the [Outer-Sector] around [Yggdrasil], we basically dismissed that entity as something that was a By-product of the [True Creator] of [Yggdrasil], a foreign abomination, something that needs to be exiled. But, from what I have gathered here, I believe we have a solid chance of completing our mission with it's help."
"And, don't ask me what I gathered here. For, I am honor-bound to keep it a secret.", he continued.
"A-are you r-referring to our guardian the [The Pioneer], Akelus?", Xylus chimed in.
"You can call him whatever you want. Doesn't really matter to me.", Akelus bluntly replied.
"Using [The Purge], err... I mean [The Pioneer] is alright. But, how will you summon it? And, let's just say you do manage to summon it. How will you bait it to secure the package within the [Source]?", questioned Adrian.
"Err... Well, we can use the spectral weave. We mess with the weave holding the [Outer-Sector], and Tada! [The Pioneer] gets baited.", Akelus answered.
"That won't work.", Xylus intervened. "If you mess with the spectral weave of [Corzox], [The Pioneer] won't be summoned, instead you will be summoned by him."
"Now... that puts us in a dilemma.", Akelus frowned.
"Don't worry, for I have a solution.", assured Adrian. "We [The Covenant] were entrusted with one final prophecy from our lost sovereign. We were instructed to use them in our time of need, and there is no better time than now."
Adrian held his hand forward gesturing Dongfang Kongbu to hand him a scroll. The scroll contained the Final Prophecy from the [Sovereign of the Covenant]:
A mural was projected in their minds:
{"When Fate and Afterlife quench my Vengeance,
Once my glory fades from [MYRIAD],
There shall be a Grand Insurgence,
Hope lies within the Horizon of Oblivion,
Grasp the Hand of Miracle,
And tread beyond our humble creation,
At the edge, within the bark of [Yggdrasil],
O bastion, there you shall find my tomb..."}
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