17 System Hours until the end of the world
From the moment it triggered, those in the expeditionary force behind His Avatar all felt the change. They - a group that represented the peak of power in this world, which totaled about a thousand people - perceived an unignorable tugging in their chest that drew them forward, toward the destination they were already headed towards - The Northern Everfrost. It was a disquieting feeling that reverberated with every single beat of their hearts.
This was wholly unlike the allure they’d experienced back when they’d Delved. No. This was no beckoning call. This was not comforting nor welcoming in the slightest. It was suffocating and forceful, not even attempting to hide the pure, unadulterated malice and contempt of the originator.
Even without Parasmus’ orders, everyone slowed their flight in unison and expressed shock. As they locked gazes with one another, they confirmed that they each were not alone in this feeling. With the group like this, the avatar was forced to stop for a moment with them.
It was at the forefront of the group, a brilliant beacon that lit their way - a colossal serpentine construct of pure divine power. The avatar narrowed its glowing eyes as it communicated with the primary consciousness still below.
The followers took this moment to stabilize themselves. Perhaps it was only now that they truly understood the gravity of the situation. Despite having been cautioned of the mark by their God Almighty, they might have felt that the situation was still under control. Those who have reached this height would have had to face all manner of obstacles, and they were no strangers to curses..
Though they were unable to detect this particular curse, which caused them to - in their mind - evaluate their enemy highly, they had greater faith in their comrades and - most of all - greater faith in their god.
As allies and rivals who dealt with one another for centuries, they each knew all too well the power those among this group had. This, coupled with never meeting a truly insurmountable foe, led to the thinking that though this fight would be difficult, it would still very much be a possible one. The idea of failure had never crossed their minds.
A part of this was due to complacency. Their growth had become stagnant, and their lack of progress led to earthly indulgence. They sank deeper and deeper until they truly believed the words of the sycophants that surrounded them. If progress for them was so difficult, should it not be so for others as well? Their God was the only exception to this rule, but even He had a long and storied history.
Furthermore, their God was far away, his stance one of uncaring silence so long as faith was maintained. This meant they were the ones who truly lorded over the mortals of the earth. As such, with their status untouchable for so long, the idea of being marked for death didn’t even phase them.
If nothing else, their leader was already addressing the issue. With the dual assurance provided by their own individual strength and their faith, the current situation was not taken with the caution it had warranted.
In their mind was the misconception that even if they were not the strongest here, they at least had the ability to run away. The shade provided by their deity could afford them that much, they’d believed.
The blame for this sentiment could ultimately be traced back to their dear leader. To say nothing of how he fostered such an outlook among his followers to maintain power, the situation’s urgency was not relayed appropriately at all.
The deity did not speak of how he himself was affected, nor of the magnitude of the problem at hand - a spell of global proportions. For one, it would damage the prestige his dependents held for him, and two, it would also greatly damage morale. If they knew, He’d doubted whether they would give in and try to curry favor, as unlikely to succeed as it might have been.
Therefore, these Myths and Demi-Gods all thought that their group alone was targeted. That they were the victim of a desperate and frenzied mage on his last legs. Forced into mobilization on such short notice, their ability to gather intelligence was limited. What conclusion could they make other than to trust the story from those above?
They only knew that the enemy they had set out to destroy was the often ignored and pacifistic Turtle of the North, an objective that did not match the strength arrayed. To their knowledge, all otherworlders were tracked and profiled, and this individual otherworlder, though strong, had famously zero incidents to speak of. Furthermore, this one was old, too, so perhaps his senility got the better of him.
Some among them were a little suspicious, but that was all. To obtain their position one needed faith and trust above all. Though most might not have been as devout as they were when they first joined, none were so socially inept that they questioned the orders passed down to them directly through an oracle. Especially since it was a case that involved them as well.
Furthermore, their god had even coalesced an avatar to fight alongside them. Even the oldest among them only had the privilege of experiencing such an occasion once. Prepared to this extent, it was simply unthinkable to fail.
Regardless, the reality of the situation was that these individuals were all merely fodder, and fodder could not be allowed to realize they were fodder until there was no path of retreat. The true situation wasn’t divulged because Parasmus hadn’t held much hope for this party in the first place. He didn’t have much from the onset and had even less now.
With how things were looking now, the most they could achieve would be to divert a moment's attention, which could possibly allow him to land a fatal blow. That was why while he’d entertained the thought of leaving them behind and investigating the situation himself, he ultimately decided against it.
Now was not the time to rush. It was still necessary to take things step by step.
Though this subsidiary soul only had a moderate thread of contact with the main body, the information that was transmitted over did not paint a promising picture.
However, even if he were hopelessly outmatched in every avenue things were not completely without hope. He held a power in his repertoire that far surpassed his normal capabilities, one that he doubted even his highest estimation of the invader could predict.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
By taking advantage of a principle he didn’t quite have a proper grasp on, he was able to explode with immense strength. Unfortunately, that explosion was literal, not some skill able to break his limits and the like. He still possessed those abilities, a vestige of his climb to the current pinnacle, but they have since become outpaced as he grew stronger, making none of them usable in his current situation.
This ability had a near-guaranteed chance of killing him, barring some unexpected miracle, and he would only use it as a last resort to die with the enemy. A means unimaginable before was being considered now, that was how much the situation had deteriorated.
If he had been able to communicate to the other party he had this option where both sides were fated to perish things would not have turned out this way, but he knew that such a thing was impossible. After all, no one wanted their hard work to fall into the hands of others. As such, ways of self detonation were common enough, why should his opponent expect him to be any different? From the moment the spell was cast Eldridge must have been confident in dealing with his method.
In a situation where both sides were confident in their respective abilities, only direct conflict could solve the disagreement.
As a veteran of countless battles, he knew that fights among those at his level were generally decided either in an instant or over centuries. The former was obviously the one his enemy preferred, with how quickly the spell was progressing.
But at least he felt comforted in the knowledge that even if negotiations were likely to break down, they were not going to have their way. Though they had yet to make a proper encounter, the burning hatred Parasmus had towards that now all-but-confirmed enemy knew no bounds.
He felt that though he may die, with his sacrifice the world would still live on, his legacy would be preserved in another form. It was a thought he had never humored before. Being driven into a dead end brought the mind to strange places. He only perceived something deep within himself telling him to keep the fire burning.
It was rather uncharacteristic of him, though perhaps it was a natural consequence of staring death in the face. So many of his mortals also strangely devoted themselves to leaving a legacy during their twilight years. However, now was not the time to dwell on things. Every portion of his mental capacity needed to be allocated to adjusting everything according to the changes.
Even if he had a way to guarantee mutually assured destruction, that was the last resort, after all. It would be best if it were avoided. He still wanted to live a little while longer yet.
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15 System Hours until the end of the world
As they began to approach their destination, the more perceptive individuals among them noticed things trailing behind them. Such things were not paid any heed, as they had a mission to accomplish.
Parasmus knew what they were. It was a sight seen around the world. How could he not have noticed? But those in this party were not him. As they neared the Northern Everfrost, settlements and temperature dropped in equal measure.
The specters were ethereal and wispy at first, but became more and more concrete as they drew near, until their presence was undeniable. The phantoms were approaching fast, even faster than the moderate cruising speed the battalion flew at, causing them to go on high alert. As they paused to ensure they were not caught off guard in case those behind them were enemies, they were met with a sight that enraged them.
Behind were waves upon waves of souls, most silent, though a few who held a strong sense of self raged uselessly against the current. It was a veritable sea of people, dragged along by invisible threads only Parasmus could notice. It was a scene that gave Parasmus a touch of familiarity, but he quickly set that thought aside.
Those among them with compassionate hearts, a minority, all told, wept bitter tears as they saw the souls approach. Their expressions twisted violently as they vowed to end this evil as quickly as they could. They vowed to save these captured souls before they were used up for whatever profane purpose the caster intended.
In silence, the group prayed solemnly for those they were unable to save as they were engulfed by the tide. Despite not being attacked, they were all inflicted with immense psychological pain from the scene. While they might have scoffed at the sacrifices of a few million - the armies they led in campaigns against one another a testament to that fact - this was at a scale far above even that. Perhaps only the Calamity they heard so much about could equal such a disaster.
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12 System Hours until the end of the world
Harried by the lost souls that surrounded them on all sides, they eventually closed in on their target. The conflux of souls from all directions made the location all too obvious. They needed only to follow the tide.
Though they had arrived, the question of how they were going to deal with it remained. Even the dimmest among the group could tell that such a thing was far beyond their abilities to deal with. Anyone who had held the hope that the spell wasn’t as large a scale as they’d feared had that fanciful hope die on the way here.
The lost souls crowded together, forming a massive roiling tempest. The sheer scale of their presence disrupted the ambient mana, decreasing the already low temperature substantially.
Though the Northern Everfrost was a cold and desolate environment, that was the description given by the average transcendent. Those among this group were at the peak of this world, yet even they considered that description apt. They saw the water completely glaze over, becoming a pristine sheet of pallid, sickly ice. But perhaps a “sheet” was not an apt description, as the frost crept down an undetectable depth.
As they stood in place awaiting their leader’s orders, they saw the storm grow in intensity, swirling and siphoning ever more souls inward as later waves arrived and passed the point of no return.
This was where they needed to go.
Even out here, they were freezing. Could they even survive in that place?
Rousing up their courage, they pushed their way past the “storm” as they prepared themselves for what awaited them within.
The path forward so far had been strangely unimpeded. Though they had all kept vigil, ready for an ambush. However, they presumed that was because every defense was concentrated here. There was a good reason for that, as well. Here, there were distractions from all sides and visibility was extremely poor, both physical and magical.
As they waded their way through the dense crowd of souls, the closer they approached the slower they advanced, careful of any traps that might have been placed.
But contrary to their expectations, there were none.
Even so, the comparatively weaker individuals found it increasingly difficult to persevere amidst the raging tempest. One, overwhelmed in their frailty, had their soul torn from their body, succumbing to the insidious curse that gnawed at them from within and became one with the throng of restless spirits that encircled the party.
Steadily, they reached the heart of the swarm of souls. Here, everything, from the mana to the fog to the souls was much less dense, allowing them to see what was before them clearly. A few wished they weren’t able to, however.
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Wreathed in the maelstrom of unwilling souls, atop an imposing tower of blinding gold, was a pale blue giant of crystal and mana whose mere presence caused the air to hum ominously with arcane might. It was still focused on weaving magic as they entered as though it was paying the densely packed ant-like intruders in formation no mind and continued to funnel souls toward a small object in the palms of its many hands.
11 System Hours until the end of the world