“The walls have fallen, the soldiers slayed. It is only a matter of time before my end finally comes. Oh, glorious divinity above…is this truly my fate? I have been ever so devoted to your radiance, yet I feel your presence fading. Is it because of Sarathiel? Have his words corrupted me? My will is wavering, and still you have not appeared before me. Hehe, I understand now. It is because my faith is weak, isn’t it? You desire more. You desire this entire world to be consumed within time’s intangible flux. So be it, I shall offer my everything to you. Let all within these walls serve as a sacrifice; let all be reverted to the very beginning.”

Nokron, Commander of Nox Caelum

———

Ascalon

“Hah, f-fall you damned piece of junk,” Sarathiel sputters before falling onto the ground, the last of his aura finally drained.

Surasha lands near the two, previously waiting near the sidelines for the gas to dissipate, and swiftly begins loading him onto a reinforced stretcher.

“I got the gist from Lorelai,” she says as she removes his armor and splashes a healing concoction on his face. With a loud whistle, a couple of Seraph broken off from Joshua’s group descend from the sky and takes the stretcher, carrying him away from the battlefield and back to Lorelai’s base camp. “I knew that big idiot would survive, but I never expected his wounds to be this bad. I’m glad I decided to stay behind; he’d be halfway to the Stars by now if I wasn’t here.”

“I doubt any of us could have imagined Nokron to possess such a power,” Ascalon murmurs. “Creation is ever so fickle with its gifts. A man like him cannot be allowed to abuse it any longer.”

“Oh, he will. Cain and Abel have already started scaling the walls while Joshua and the rest of The Seraph are keeping a close eye on the fortress’s border. There’s no escape; he’s trapped.”

Lorelai’s voice suddenly rings in their heads. “Even so, now is when we must be most cautious. Nokron will become more dangerous the longer this siege takes. When one is confronted by death, their power shall surge forth like never before. Nothing is more dangerous than a mind consumed by desperation.”

“We just gotta get to him before he can react then!” Surasha says. “Dismas, time to come out! It’s your time to shine.”

A figure steps out of the darkened shadows cast by the fortress’s walls. “Yeah yeah, I hear ya. My boys and girls ‘ave already started sniffin’ the place out with Abel’s crew. Place is a damned maze, but it’s nothing we can’t handle; we’ll eventually find that spectral bastard.”

“Then all that is left is our entry,” Ascalon nods.

“Hey hey, don’t forget about me!” a voice suddenly booms from the distance. Deborah lands near the group, her cherry-pink wings jutting out from her back.

“Huh? What’re you doing here Deborah?” Surasha asks. “Didn’t Lorelai specifically tell you to stay with your order?”

“It’s alright,” Lorelai’s voice transmits once more. “I will supervise The Cherubims for the moment since they are no longer able to support the others. With her regular duty complete, I’ve given Deborah permission to join the advance.”

“Yep, I‘ve mostly recovered from casting the Shooting Star so I’m raring to go!”

The remaining Polus knights left on the field finish their culling of the Nox and congregate by Ascalon and the others, ready to end this siege for good. But before they enter the fortress halls, a ceremony must be conducted. A ceremony for the fallen.

“Deborah, I apologize for asking this of you despite your fatigue, but I need your strength once more,” Ascalon says.

“You’re goin’ to perform the royal rite now?” Dismas asks hesitantly. “Aren’t we already low on time as is?”

“It’ll only take a moment. We can’t risk their aura being bound to this earth. Not like Valkyrie.”

“…I understand,” Deborah says. “It’s for the best.”

She takes in a deep breath and holds her great-bolt up high. A small flame ignites at the tip, and with a thundering shriek, it’s launched high into the air—reaching above even the clouds.

“Please Cosmos,” she chants. “Let the flames of your love envelop your children. Cleanse their souls of pain, of memory, and may they have a peaceful rest—forever slumbering amidst the Stars.”

The bolt begins to split apart into hundreds of pieces as a whorl of flame spreads across the sky, each little fragment consumed in a raging conflagration.

“Meteor Shower.”

To the eyes of the army below, it’s as if the astral heavens above are falling ever so gently through the sky. Brilliant streaks of light flash by in an instant as they rain down upon the bodies of the dead below. Everything—Polus, Nox, enemies, friends—is washed away by the sea of fire, the ashes scattering into the beautiful blue cosmos.

“Pray forgive me for sending you off so far from home,” Ascalon whispers, gently setting The Mattatron on the floor and taking a knee while clasping his hands together. “I, Ascalon, twenty-eighth Ruler of the kingdom of Polus, plead to the souls of all who perished in my name:

“Grant me your courage. Let your will be blossomed within my chest.

“Grant me your dreams. In this world of endless darkness, we must strive for the future.

“Grant me your fears, for which none in this world is ever without. Ascend to the skies, and be unburdened of your earthly chains.

Ascalon rises back up and holds his blade close to his bosom as aura starts to gather around him, coalescing at the base of his lips.

”O’ world,” he chants. “Be still.”

In an instant, the sea of fire disappears along with everything it has consumed, replaced by a dazzling rainbow of crystals.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

———

Cain

“Oh, screw this…” Cain mutters as his division sprints through the winding halls of the Magnus Murus. Everything is covered in a dulled steel while twists and corners plague the vast passages—a malicious maze designed to entrap foe and ally alike. “We may as well be running around in circles at this point. You sure we’re making any progress?”

“It’s not like I’m all knowing!” One of Dismas’s scouts snaps back. “I can only map out the halls if we, you know, go through them in the first place. If you’re so impatient why don’t you just bust down the walls or whatever it is you damned Power knights like to do.”

“And risk having the fortress collapse on us? Yeah, I’d rather not. In the first place-”

Cain swings at the wall with all of his might, but the impact leaves only a small dent. “Everything around here is absurdly sturdy. Only a titan like Sarathiel has enough strength to break through something like this.”

“Then stop complaining and let me do my job!” the scout exclaims. “Look, it may not seem like it, but we are making progress. The control room where the Nox commander is most likely to be hiding in is probably located at the heart of the fortress, and a massive layout like this—around maybe sixty layers—is going to take some time to navigate.”

“We really don’t have the time to comb through every part of the fortress.”

“And we won’t. Labyrinths like these are bound to have some type of pattern to them, or else how would their soldiers be able to find anything? I’m already trying my best to crack the pattern; we just need to keep on go-”

A massive saw suddenly descends out of nowhere from the ceiling, hidden behind the maddeningly-grey interior, and swings directly at the group. Cain swiftly pushes the scout back and blocks the brunt of the saw with his pavise—the jagged blades screeching as it grates against his bulwark—until eventually he manages to deflect the construct and smash it into the wall.

“Th-Thanks,” the scout stutters. “I’m sorry, I should have noticed the separations on the ceiling. Some scout I am, huh?”

“Anytime…” Cain gasps, breathless. “And don’t worry about it. I’d have to deal with a lot more of these if it weren’t for you. Even though Dismas and I don’t really get along, I have to admit he’s pretty good at training. Be confident in yourself and let’s just get through this damned place already.”

“Heh, guess I better pull my own weight then.”

The group continues to bulldoze through the various traps and constructs hidden throughout the fortress, leaving behind a trail of battered metal and grease. Surprisingly, not a single soldier has been sent to intercept them so far. Only machines stand in their way, but thanks to Cain’s protection, no casualties have occurred in his division so far. Of course the constant barrage of traps are annoying, but Cain is uneased by the seemingly-empty halls. Just where are the rest of the Nox?

“Hey, have you detected any movement around us?” he asks. “Something feels off; there’s no sign of Nox soldiers anywhere. Maybe they’re waiting to ambush us behind the walls or something?”

“No, I can’t sense any aura around us.”

“Odd…Hey Lorelai, has Ascalon’s group encountered any Nox soldiers?”

“None thus far,” her voice transmits. “The segments beyond the gate is where the most amount of resistance should have been encountered, but the main invading force has yet to see any of the Nox. The same goes for Abel’s division.”

“Huh, I doubt they’re all just cowering away somewhere.”

“Indeed. Nokron is involved with this somehow, but what his plan is I’m still unsure. Whatever it is, be on guard.”

“Got it. We’ll just continue then.”

Although he’s still worried about whatever Nokron is scheming, he can’t lag behind and let the others overtake him. Especially not to his brother; he has his dignity as a captain to uphold after all.

Eventually, after enduring a constant barrage of traps and snares, the group arrives at a large auditorium. The room is barren save for a peculiar looking machine in the middle. It appears to be a metal box, but for what’s in it, Cain is hesitant to find out.

“Figure Nokron’s hiding here somewhere?” Cain mumbles. “It looks pretty empty to me.”

“I don’t know,” the scout replies. “There’s aura, and a lot of it, but it’s all concentrated in that box over there. Either there’s an entire squadron hiding in that box, or-”

“Or it’s a trap. Great. What should we do Lorelai?”

Her voice is silent for a moment, carefully deciding on the best course of action, until she finally replies. “…For now, have everyone except take cover behind Cain. If there’s a high concentration of aura in there, then the box most likely contains an explosion of some kind—probably of his Niflheim. How close are you currently to it?”

“Haven’t moved a bit since we entered the room,” he replies. We’re right by the door.”

“Good, try attacking it with a long-ranged spell or projectile. It might trigger its mechanism.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“You can try avoiding the room altogether if there’s an alternative route-”

“Yeah, unfortunately no. We can’t reach the control room without passing through this area here,” the scout says.

“-or Cain will have to approach it himself.”

“Well, only way to find out is to try I guess.”

Cain smashes the nearby wall until he’s able to gather a fistful of reinforced metal. He arches back and sends the rubble flying straight at the box, but the impact fails to make it even move, much less trigger anything.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” he grumbles. “Guess I’m up then. Everybody else, stay behind the door. Don’t open it unless I tell you.”

“What if you’re trapped in the gas?” the scout asks.

“Better just me then have all of us trapped in it. If I do get trapped, go look for Abel or another division.”

“Alright. Good luck.”

Cain sighs and bolsters his body with sun-kissed aura, his pavise raised up high. He slowly advances forward, nerves tense, until eventually he’s right next to the box. He peeks out from his shield and taps it with the blunt of his war-hammer, but it doesn’t react whatsoever.

With a bit more force, he knocks against the metal rim. Nothing. Maybe it’s actually safe?

He slams against it with the full might of his power, yet still it remains silent without even so much as a dent on its exterior.

Cain exhales from relief, the object seemingly harmless, but something suddenly pricks against his senses. The air is becoming more dense, stifling, until eventually a nauseating-green aura begins to pour onto the box from above. He looks up and notices a strange machine pumping out the substance until the entire box is coated in its sickly malaise.

He throws his hammer up high and destroys the machine, but it’s already too late. Something within the box begins to shake and writhe, the entity desperate to get out. Cain attempts to smash whatever is inside before it can get out, but it suddenly explodes, unleashing a wave of shredded metal and aura as he’s blown back—his body colliding into the nearby entrance walls with a loud crunch.

Crawling out before him is a twisted amalgamation of man and machine. A wired exoskeleton surrounds a grotesque pile of mutilated flesh while jagged blades coated in sinew jut out from every part of its body. The creature’s rib-cage pierces out from its maw-like chest, housing a spike-filled cavity that resembles a pair of pointed teeth.

But its size is what unnerves Cain the most. This isn’t a singular soldier twisted into some mechanical abomination, but multiple. Tens, maybe even a hundred, bodies combine together to form a gigantic mass. Remnants of the soldiers used in its creation still remain with severed parts of their bodies strewn along the surface. They moan and wail pleas of help, despairing their twisted assimilation, and the creature jitters in response to the chorus of pained screams.

“Oh, Cosmos help me.” Cain stares in horror as he rises back up. “Is there no end to Nokron’s depravity? This….this is-”

But he doesn’t have the chance to fully comprehend the disgusting being. The creature arches back, eyes twitching and filled with madness, before hurdling itself at him.