The people of the Great Chu had come here today, spurred by the son of heaven, to once again beat back the gods—to once again prevent their nation from crumbling. Yet the battle before them proceeded like nothing else.
The endless fire of the sky tower began to rain down upon Grand Commandant Sun’s forces as they marched ever closer to heaven. The application of magic and the aid of divinity made them fire retardant, but the whole of the area was scorched. It was a deep, unending heat, seeping past lesser armors to pool around the skin and slowly burn it away. Their advance upward became harsher than that in any desert, and only those with heat-protected armor like Grand Commandant Sun or his wife were spared the misery.
After this torturous trek, they came to the first outpost—the first gate, protecting the path to the palace. The mountain had been bored through to make way for it. The building was sheer red, and with an angular crosspiece supporting the mountain above, it was a striking image that all born on this continent recognized from tales and stories. In the gates leading to the Palace of Heaven, countless heroes had made their legends sound around the world.
And to all’s fear, manning it was one of these legends—one of the heroes that struck awe in all those of the Great Chu. Distinguished by his towering horn helm, all knew him as the Swallower of Sinners, an ancient commander of history who had once held this very gate against a million barbarian invaders. His gigantic bow, taller than the man himself, struck dread and reverence into the hearts and minds of those that came to take this fortress.
The Grand Commandant Sun informed them all he was a machination of Erlebnis—a replication of the great hero, reborn from the god of knowledge’s vast collection of history. Even they could see these figures were mimicries, gleaming like reddish mercury… yet the legends of old could not be banished so easily. Even a replica of a legend evoked the same primal fear.
Just as in the stories of old, the Swallower of Sinners caught an arrow aflame, and pointed it downward. He fired it not at the grand commandant, nor at the Justiciars protecting him… but at the ground, where pipes of oil led to barrels full of black powder. And just as had happened once before, the ground itself exploded with tremendous force as the oil carried the fire to all the traps beneath the earth.
But the foreign conqueror, Sun, was unfazed by these legends. He barked an order, and his people dug into the earth. With spells, they poured gluts of water inside. And when the aflame oil attempted to ignite the black powder beneath their feet… the water had already soiled it, utterly. His people walked across the lake of fire, where the Swallower of Sinners waited to rebuff them.
The Swallower of Sinners was still a mighty and clever warrior, commanding a legendary retinue of archers. Great blasts of power bridged the gap in an attempt to break the spearhead of their army—to break Grand Commandant Sun, protected by Law’s Justiciars. Though a great man the Swallower was… a man he was all the same, and with a tactic tried and tested against foes of the past rather than those of today.
Red ghosts, born in Sun’s image, streaked across the battlefield to penetrate the fortress. They cast explosive magic, disrupting the Swallower of Sinner’s perfect formation. With an opening, great ballistae brought from the land overseas fired from the back, striking down those that manned the first gate. When they came to the giant red door that blocked their entry, the Justiciars reeled back and slammed against it. A great gong echoed down the mountain as the first of the metal doors swung open.
The first gate fell.
As they pressed onward to the second of the six gates, their foes of the Qircassian Coalition approached all behind them. Gods and monsters swarmed like water to flood out rats... yet unexpectedly, support came. Far behind the grand commandant’s marching army, a lone figure stepped out of the tall shadows cast by the mountain to confront the gods and their servants. Giants, demons, and gods standing one hundred feet tall sought the tail of Sun’s forces, disregarding this lone figure.
Only the prudent few that recognized the god of war, chaos, and ruthless destruction. And consequently, only a prudent few hung back, to live.
Sataistador pulled free two axes off his back, and threw them. They carved through the mighty, the vanguard, as though they were merely wheat before a scythe. Sataistador chased his thrown weapons, drawing and utilizing countless more as unimaginable glee flickered across his face. Blades, hammers, warpicks—he clashed with the tide of Kirel Qircassia’s coalition, eliminating any advantage their strategy might’ve offered. He was an army unto himself, and the countless weapons he bore moved as though they had a life of their own.
The grand commandant’s forces took ample advantage of this tailwind to make it to the second gate. There, yet another Great Chu hero awaited—Secret Listener. The last member of an assassin guild, he had created a regiment that had never fallen in all its days. And here, just as in legend, his warriors dwelled in hidden recesses throughout the mountain. They blended perfectly with the stone, casting out weapons lathered in poison and scattering dust that numbed the body.
The fear of the legends set in as people came to distrust the ground, the walls… but even despite their excessive caution, the Secret Listener’s men were simply too skilled to be spotted, too adroit to be struck. The closer they came to the gate, the more of their army fell to the hidden warriors of the Secret Listener.
Yet Law decreed that poison did not function, and so it was that their poisoned weapons became nothing more than metal. That legend eternal lost its luster in moments. When their poison failed, so too did they—great though they might be, they were men all the same, and magic fell upon them in droves, recklessly and carelessly. What use was hiding before the brute force of the Sun?
When Sun came to the vermillion gate, the Secret Listener himself descended upon their grand commandant. Yet their commander projected strange shadows of blood, then seemed to disappear—and when the scene settled, Sun stood with a blade of blood stabbed straight through the Secret Listener’s head.
The second gate fell, shoved open by Law’s Justiciars… and with it, another legend was broken.
Next came the third gate, and the Great Embracer. This hero had protected the third gate in millennia past with the fiercest of beasts—his pets, serpentine dragons. The men of the Great Chu feared for their life as these beasts of myth soared through the air, conjuring all the elements of the world to break them down… yet Law’s Justiciars shrugged away fire, ice, and lightning all, while the grand commandant’s red ghosts hounded the beasts of myths like falcons hunting snakes. Yet another legend fell before their army, and the fourth gate awaited.
So high up the mountain, the Stormfield finally made itself known. Where once there had been raging heat, now came icy cold—great maelstroms of ice slammed into them as they pressed onward, battering any who didn’t manage to defend themselves in time. Law’s Justiciars called upon the golden aura within their beings to create great shields that blocked the people, and on they pushed. Yet strangely, all the lightning curved toward the south—a single point in the south, where the other army pressed onward.
At the fourth gate, the replica of the Mistress of the Sky waited for them. The Stormfield was her domain. When ice, fire, or steam blew, she was one with it, flying through the air and descending upon the weakest link like a falcon plucking fish out of the water. She was as fearsome as all heroes before… yet strangely, the people of the Great Chu did not feel that same fear, that same hopelessness, as they had in the gates before. Something had changed in them.
Grand Commandant Sun’s wife, the white-haired elf, danced through the storm in pursuit of the Mistress of the Sky. She drew her icy blade, casting spell after spell in easy match for the mistress. For a time, it seemed hopeless to the warriors of the Great Chu—surely the Mistress would dance away, unharmed? Yet the Mistress of the Sky, ever the hunter, became the hunted. The elven woman from the icy lands proved more than a match for the Mistress of the Sky, impaling her upon the mountain with a lance of ice in a matter of minutes.
The Stormfield continued to batter, to wear, to chip… yet still they pushed to the fifth gate, growing ever closer to the fortress itself. The Long-Horned Bull stood in their path, out front the fortress. Standing ten feet tall, his strength was such that even gods had fallen before him. He bore a great crescent axe wrought from the skull of a dragon. The Bull had never lost, and in the end, old age was the only thing to claim him. Yet despite that, the people of the Great Chu felt that maybe—just maybe—Grand Commandant Sun would prove his equal.
Law’s Justiciars rushed forth to fight Long-Horned Bull. Their swords descended upon the freakish human in tandem… yet with a swing of his axe, Long-Horned Bull proved the validity of his legend, swatting them all away. The grand commandant stopped his march, and the people feared that this would be where they faltered. Yet Sun’s face was calm, and he conjured a bow of blood as the Justiciars fought.
The Justiciars clashed with Long-Horned Bull, and he proved their better. Their swords chipped against his axe, and their armor shattered beneath his blows. The grand commandant stood waiting all the while, the arrow on his bow humming with power unimaginable. After a minute, the bow let out an eerie howl, as if alive, and the sound echoed all around the mountain. Grand Commandant Sun released his bow…
And the Long-Horned Bull ceased to be.
Sun’s great eruption of bloody power slammed into the warrior of legend, immediately eviscerating him. It continued onward, striking the metal doors of the fifth gate. The iron groaned, wrenched from its hinges, and it blast forth with the arrow of blood. It revealed the path to the sixth, and final gate—the Palace of Heaven itself, standing in all its glory. There, that indomitable arrow carried on. Yet the moment it touched the wall, all of that power simply vanished.
The people of the Great Chu realized, then, that they had a new legend. There could be no disputing whose story would ring the loudest if he passed this sixth and final gate. Grand Commandant Sun stood strong and unshaking.
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Argrave stood weakly, barely disguising his shaking. A stiff breeze might push him over. The guardian of the fifth gate had been an unimaginable monster, standing against dozens of Law’s Justiciars alone. It had taken an extreme amount of his black blood to power his [Bloodfeud Bow] sufficiently to kill that freak. This whole journey to the summit of this mountain had been hellish, filled with desperate struggles that forced Argrave to expend his blood echoes like they were toiler paper. One of these ancient heroes remade by Erlebnis had very nearly snuck up on him and killed him.
Only now could he finally see their objective—the Palace of Heaven, the sixth gate. That Sataistador lurked behind disquieted Argrave—he couldn’t predict what the god of war had planned, revealing himself so early. On the opposite side, Galamon had been enduring guardians of similar magnitudes, commanding gods, Veidimen, and the best of the Great Chu in their advance toward the summit. Now, there was a huge, flat plain of stone between them and the fortress. (C) content.
They had been shielded from the worst of the Stormfield in the valley leading to this place, but once they stepped out there… all the elements would bear down upon them, relentlessly. Erlebnis’ emissaries, manning the walls of the fortress, would be able to fire upon them freely. Even if they breached those defenses, Erlebnis still resided in the heart of the fortress, his power unspent.
The Palace of Heaven was a great wall dividing the northern and southern passages, but even Argrave could see his old friend had already reached the other side. Galamon bore the Giantkillers, twin blue daggers capable of catching lightning. He had brought them immeasurable reprieve from the worst of the Stormfield, catching all of its electricity. And after hours of doing just that, the southern side of the Palace of Heaven shone like a star. He’d caught all the lightning this place threw at them, and it was time to return it.
Argrave asked Elenore, “Is Galamon ready for Traugott’s passage?”
“He said he’s ready a thousand times over,” Elenore answered quickly.
Argrave gathered himself, then looked to his comrades. “Zen, Anneliese—ready for the sixth gate?”
“Yes, grand commandant!” Zen shouted, looking weary yet ready.
“Let’s keep this momentum,” Anneliese encouraged. “Ready!”
“Then… let’s go!” Argrave shouted, moving toward the sixth gate.