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Prologue (II)

Driven by a vague curiosity, the young woman continued walking until she reached the edge of the pestilent swamp where the force was concentrated. She looked around, not discovering another living being, but something was wrong. There was no sound of any nature, neither the singing of birds, nor the buzzing of insects, not even the sound of plants being moved by the winds.

The girl's heart fluttered as her senses were riddled with a strong stench of rottenness coming from the murky waters, prompting her to look at the place. Then she noticed some floating lumps in the distance. Strangely, the young woman sharpened her gaze and the faint light of the sunset made her see with horror a severed hand still covered in a rusty gauntlet.

Liliana stifled a groan as she discovered multiple mutilated bodies floating in the water; legs, torsos, heads with helmets. Many of what she thought were small islets or rocks were actually the mangled remains of human beings.

Eyes wide open, he covered his mouth with his hand as he felt nausea rise in his throat. Unable to hold it in, he ended up emptying his guts on the ground. With his hands on his knees, between coughs, he listened to the movement of the muddy water being displaced by something that was about to emerge from the depths, a few meters from the shore.

In a vague attempt to escape, the girl turned, but panic caused her to collide with a protruding branch, interrupting her escape and dropping her face first into the mud. Gasping in pain, Liliana stood up, only to find herself face to face with the dark silhouette emerging from the water. The figure wore a breastplate emblazoned with a crimson sword pointing downward and adorned with a winged guard, which she recognized as the symbol of the Templars.

Then, the entity lifted its face, inhaling the air sharply, and the unthinkable happened: its limbs stretched, with a rattle of bones breaking to inhuman proportions, its face covered by long black hair, stained with mud. The entity began to advance, closing the distance without taking its focus away from the helpless girl, who barely managed to get to her feet.

An exchange of glances was enough to petrify Liliana, her limbs refusing to obey. An icy shiver invaded her, causing her sphincters to give way and she urinated on herself, while tears fell uncontrollably from her eyes, unable to articulate even a choked cry in her throat as she helplessly contemplated the emergence of the swamp creature, erect a span away from her.

In a vague attempt to escape, the girl turned, but panic caused her to collide with a protruding branch, interrupting her escape and dropping her face first into the mud. Gasping in pain, Liliana stood up, only to find herself face to face with the dark silhouette emerging from the water. The figure wore a breastplate emblazoned with a crimson sword pointing downward and adorned with a winged guard, which she recognized as the symbol of the Templars.

Then, the entity lifted its face, inhaling the air sharply, and the unthinkable happened: its limbs stretched, with a rattle of bones breaking to inhuman proportions, its face covered by long black hair, stained with mud. The entity began to advance, closing the distance without taking its focus away from the helpless girl, who barely managed to get to her feet.

An exchange of glances was enough to petrify Liliana, her limbs refusing to obey. An icy shiver invaded her, causing her sphincters to give way and she urinated on herself, while tears fell uncontrollably from her eyes, unable to articulate even a choked cry in her throat as she helplessly contemplated the emergence of the swamp creature, erect a span away from her.

“F-father... “Liliana whispered, her voice trembling, recognising the man in the black and gold arcane armour, worthy of a sorcerer of absolute supremacy.

image [https://up-pic.mangatoon.mobi/contribute/fiction/9126501/episode-images/1725296212984.jpg-original600webp?sign=70e36ec4aaebcca9a05f3bb539727298&t=66fdde80]

Before she gave in to unconsciousness, Liliana staggered, but a deft arm held her firmly, preventing her fall. At that critical moment, the comforting touch of her savior kept her anchored to reality, flooding her being with relief and gratitude at the danger overcome.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The dying creature pointed its tentacular finger at the warlock, struggling to contain its own entrails that were trying to escape its torso. The unknown color faded, revealing a yellowish coloration; and as its life faded, it dictated one last message through telepathy, a darkness that shook the father's soul.

“For the sorcerer supreme of this age, you can no more save her than you could protect your whore ex wife, who refused your gift and was left to rot for time,” said the dying creature in a defiant tone, struggling to stay conscious. You can't escape the great game. No one can! What you have stolen is demanded, traitor. It is impossible to deny what she truly is, It is the key to the true throne and the sacred city of the gods! No one escapes their destiny and the very act of daring is sin!!! Our lord will come for you and take your damned head for this!!!!!

“Let him come! “shouted the man in response, as he raised his hand from which he projected a searing energy that enveloped the creature slowly; torturing it into an agonized whimper, producing echoes that spread through the forest. “Let them all come, I will send them back to the abyss, and send the message to their four bastard gods that we have escaped their sick game. We will no longer be their bloody pawns and when I get them in my grasp.... I will come for them.”

Concluding his message in a burst of unbridled rage, the sorcerer launched a fresh bolt of arcane energy straight at the creature's head, blasting it to pieces.

The cloaked man returned to the caravans, signaling the end of a series of simultaneous attacks by aberrant creatures that plunged everything into ephemeral chaos. Although they managed to repel the creatures, the caravans suffered heavy casualties, especially in the rear, where the princess was traveling. One of the trucks lay overturned, surrounded by a macabre scene: dismembered bodies with their entrails exposed. A horror shared by all the victims was evident: each one had had his jaw ripped out along with his tongue.

The soldiers were busy tending to the wounded, making sure every unholy beast was dead. Mutant monstrosities, once human, turned into creatures described as living teratomas; they were the palpable consequences of war manifested in living flesh.

“My lord! By the gods... she's all right, isn't she? “Risha knelt down, embarrassed by the weight of her failure, and seeing that Liliana was still breathing, she felt a flash of relief that reinforced her own safety more than that of the princess, of whom she noticed the pendant wiggling from her neck: the tracer ruby: “My lord... please forgive me! The princess asked for a moment alone and we were taken by surprise, cornered. I couldn't get to...”

“I sent you to my daughter to protect her, you stupid bitch! We're paying you for something and passing on our knowledge to you! “Her voice echoed with a sternness that sent her acolyte's head down even lower in frustration. “I had to leave the front when I heard about the attack; my mistake was thinking they'd go after me first... and I'm grateful that you at least deigned to call for reinforcements; I barely located her through the ruby tracker. If I gave you the position of my girl's bodyguard, it was because you had my trust, which you have lost. You should be thankful that she is still alive, and for the bond you had with my son...these are the reasons why I will not truly punish you for the time being. Your responsibilities to Liliana are over. You will return to the battlefield, and I expect you to bring me excellent results so that you can make amends for this failure.”

“Y-yes... yes, my lord.”

Risha bowed her head, hiding a smile of unexpected gratitude that emerged in her wounded ego, buoyed by a vast ocean of opportunity. She could hear in her mind the deafening clamor of the war horn, where she would have the chance to excel and achieve glory for her tribe, as the gods did. Let someone else worry about taking care of Liliana.

"Warn the soldiers to get ready!" Zagreo ordered. "I want the acolytes to regroup, we're going to need all our power." The sorcerer, with his unconscious daughter in his arms, hesitated for a second. As he passed Risha, she said to him:

“I am ready to unleash our divinity,” said Risha with palpable eagerness in her false calm. Unleashed on the battlefield, there will be no force on the planet to stop us.

“It will be when we have no choice,” Zagreo replied sternly, knowing the kind of power he intended to unleash. Let's not release our trump card so soon, it's still something you don't quite understand... what it did to your mind and what can happen to you if you expose yourself too much.

“We have the power of a god in our hand, my lord,” Risha replied. What in this world could stop us?

“You said it... in this world.