Chapter 34 Cataclysm

  Far to the west, along the rugged coastline, stood a heavily armored fortress—a bastion of strength against the relentless tide of war. Within its towering walls, inside a grand war chamber, a council had gathered.

  At the center stood a towering man clad in full armor, his presence commanding. His thick black beard, streaked with strands of white, framed a face etched with deep scars—each a testament to countless battles. A heavy crown rested upon his head, a symbol of his unquestionable authority. Behind him stood two imposing figures, fully armored, their faces bearing a striking resemblance to his own.

  Encircling him were the rulers of various races, each a leader in their own right. Tall, ethereal elves stood with an air of grace, their polished armor gleaming under the flickering torchlight. Beside them, dwarven warriors, clad in heavy plate, bore strange weapons resembling cannons, their faces hardened by years of unrelenting war. Further along, humanoid lizardmen, their tails swaying behind them, carried long, jagged swords and clubs strapped to their belts.

  Stepping forward, a tall elven man with chiseled features and a golden tiara spoke, his voice smooth yet resolute.

  “We should send someone to investigate the Holy Mountain. If the rumors are true, we must act.”

  The dwarven king, a stocky figure with a massive golden helmet shaped like an anvil, crossed his arms. His deep, rumbling voice carried the weight of concern.

  “We can’t spare any soldiers. If we move our forces, the barrier may fall.”

  A lizardman elder, adorned with vibrant quills on his head and dressed in traditional tribal attire, stood with deep wrinkles etched across his face. His turbaned head tilted slightly before he interjected, his voice measured and wise.

  “Our scouts in demon territory... reported witnessing massive streaks of burning light, blue as the heart of ice, white as the wrath of the heavens. They fell from on high like spears of the gods, sundering the earth and cleaving a deep wound into the accursed land. wiping out countless demons and momentarily halting their advance.”

  The human king’s brow furrowed, his deep, commanding voice filling the chamber.

  “And what of the Eastern Allied Army? Any word from them?”

  The council erupted into a heated debate, voices clashing as they struggled to reach an agreement.

  Then, without warning, the ground beneath them trembled violently. A deep, rumble surged through the fortress, shaking its very foundations.

  “Are the demon generals attacking?!” someone shouted in alarm.

  Without hesitation, the rulers and their guards rushed outside. But the moment they stepped into the open air, they froze.

  Their breath caught in their throats. Their eyes widened in sheer disbelief.

  Before them, the Holy Mountain—a colossal, unyielding wall of stone that had stood for eons—was crumbling. Towering slabs of rock shattered and collapsed, cascading down like an unstoppable avalanche. From deep within, radiant blue lights erupted, bursting outward in chaotic brilliance.

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  Then, a sound unlike any other ripped through the heavens.

  A roar—deep, thunderous, and primal—echoed across the land, carrying an unrelenting wave of dread. Cities far and wide trembled at its call.

  All gazes turned skyward in horror.

  From the mountain’s ruins, an enormous creature emerged, its sheer presence overwhelming. Its form was barely comprehensible amidst the chaos, its monstrous frame shifting against the backdrop of destruction.

  Then—

  A devastating beam of pure energy erupted from its maw, an all-consuming force of annihilation. It carved through the land, obliterating everything in its path, leaving only ruin in its wake.

  The rulers, mighty as they were, suddenly felt so small in its presence.

  But then, a sudden movement on their side drew their attention.

  The lizardmen, as one, dropped to their knees, pressing their foreheads to the ground in deep reverence. Their voices, filled with awe and devotion, rose in unison, uttering a name none of the other rulers had ever heard before:

  "Oh great Huītzilōpōchtli, God of the Sun!"...

  In the distant capital city of Uruk, a beautiful blonde woman in an elegant white dress stood outside her castle, surrounded by her people, servants, and knights. Just beyond the castle walls, a massive gash split the ground in an eerily perfect diagonal line. The gathered crowd stared in horror at the unnatural fissure, unease gripping their hearts.

  Princess Agnes and her loyal guard, Joseph, turned their gazes northward, their expressions tense with worry...

  Iryoku, barely conscious, forced his eyes open. Above him, Deborah fought with relentless fury as the dragon ascended into the sky, each strike a testament to her unyielding spirit. The heavens trembled with the shockwaves of their battle, the sheer force of their clash distorting the very air and sweeping the once-clouded night sky clear.

  She stood strong, unleashing a relentless storm of slashes upon the beast. With a fierce cry, she clasped her hands together and delivered a powerful hammer strike to its monstrous skull. The impact reverberated through the air, closing the monster's maw, interrupting the creature mid-cast, and cutting off its deadly beam before it could fully form. The beast recoiled, wincing in pain, its massive body momentarily halted by the sheer force of the blow.

  But then—the unthinkable happened.

  The dragon’s massive claw lashed out, seizing Deborah in an iron grip. She thrashed against it, a growl escaping her lips. “GGRRWWW!” Her claws tore at its flesh, but the beast did not falter. Its grip tightened, squeezing the life from her, crushing her bones.

  Iryoku’s heart pounded in his chest. No. No, no, no! Gritting his teeth, he forced his battered body to move, hauling himself up the frayed rope with everything he had left. His muscles burned, his vision swam, but he refused to let go. I have to reach her. I have to—

  A flash of crimson cut through the stormy sky.

  The dragon’s tail, sharp as a blade and wreathed in crackling energy, whipped through the air like a spear.

  Piercing straight through Deborah’s torso.

  Her eyes widened in shock. Blood gushed from the gaping wound, her body nearly split in two.

  “NO! NO!” Iryoku’s scream was swallowed by the roaring winds, his vision blurring with tears.

  The dragon flicked its tail, hurling her broken form toward the mountain. Her body spiraled through the air, blood and torn organs spilling from her near-severed torso. Her once-powerful figure was now nothing but a mangled ruin.

  A final beam of searing energy erupted from the dragon’s maw, hurtling toward her. The blast consumed Deborah mid-air, obliterating her form before Iryoku’s very eyes.

  The night sky ignited, burning white-hot for a fleeting instant before collapsing into an abyss of darkness.

  Iryoku’s soul shattered.

  "AAAAAAAAHHHH!!" His agonized scream tore from his throat, raw and feral.

  At that moment, the rope unwound from the dragon’s leg.

  His grip failed.

  The wind, a howling tempest born from the beast’s immense power, caught him, flinging his body into a helpless spiral, tumbling further and further away.

  Above him, the dragon swelled with power, its form radiating an overwhelming, pulsating aura that engulfed the sky. Then, with a final, deafening roar—a cry of absolute triumph—it shot upward, piercing the heavens before vanishing into the endless void.

  Silence fell.

  The battle was over...