Evros looked down at the map of the continent with a blank stare. He had been called over to the Map by its overseers. He did not enjoy being called.

He had known about the Hordes of Undead that had suddenly appeared throughout the land yet had not attacked any of the Races of Mankind.

It had been nearly a month now since their rampage had begun, and they showed no true sign of stopping. By now, many of the more stationary Hordes were standing atop of hill of Monster Corpses. While the traveling ones had left a trail of blood and bodies behind.

The Horde in the borders of the Gilaen Empire had been attacked by the Empire, almost being wiped out, but then a force of Werewolf Undead appeared and almost completely wiped out the attacking Gilaen force. Now, the Undead Horde had constructed a makeshift fort out of logs and constructed a trench.

Not even Black Liches used such techniques. Instead preferring to use numbers to simply overwhelm their opponents.

All of the Demigods had encountered a Lich or two before. But only Evros was old enough to remember the disasters of several Black Liches across history. He knew more about the Liches, and a great many other things, than any of the other Demigods.

And Liches never acted the way these Hordes were acting. Even discounting the potential coincidence of all the Hordes appearing at once, there was not a Lich who would not attack the Races of Mankind. They were incapable of empathy and held no regard for the living.

While the other Demigods were struggling to locate the Liches behind these Hordes, Evros knew they were wasting their time.

“Capilon, notify the others. Tell them to stop wasting their time and to return to their duties.” Evros commanded without looking away from the constantly changing map.

“Of course Elder.” Capilon bowed slightly and left the room to do as he was instructed.

“Olerac, search the records, I want a list of every individual who has any Skill or Class related to the Undead. I want their Levels, and I want their locations. Consult with the others if you have too.”

Capilon all but worshiped Evros for being one of the first Demigods and the oldest still living. Evros was a man who had personally met some of the Gods while they were still mortal. But Olerac merely respected the Elder for his experience.

“You really think this is being done by a person?”

Evros did not mind the question. He was always willing to teach to those worthy of the knowledge.

“You all believe it is a Lich who is responsible for the Hordes of Undead. An understandable conclusion. However, there are a few reasons why it cant be a Lich, even several.

First, Liches never work together. In the rare times two Liches encounter each other, they will fight in order to consume the other.

Second, in their ever growing hunger for power, they would never let a source of experience go, especially not one of the Races. Yet these Hordes do not attack any of the Races without first being attacked.

Third, they are too spread out, operating at different speeds with different strategies. Tactics that a Lich would never employ.”

“That all makes sense Elder, but not even the bastard in the Northern Ranges could raise this many Undead in different locations. Especially not without leaving his castle.”

“And he is still there?”

“Yes. We have a special alert that would trigger if he left. And just in case he somehow avoids triggering it, I have an Agent with a direct line to me constantly watching him. Just an hour ago he reported the man still inside the Castle.

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Could it be several Necromancers working together?”

“Not unless ten Necromancers somehow avoided our detection and reached the Higher end of Expert.”

“Unlikely.” Olerac shook his head.

“That was my thought. So let us hope that something on that list will reveal something.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Hope and pray that the Titan of Bone has not woken up. Because if it has, not even a God could save us.”

“Ok, being hopeful, lets say it is a person behind these Hordes, what then?”

“Then we eliminate them. Someone who has that kind of power would completely shift the power dynamic of the world that we have carefully maintained.”

“But couldn’t they also help eliminate all the Monsters?”

“And if they did that, what would people fight? Each other. The Monsters cause less damage and death than the wars would. Just get me that list. Leave this Demon to me.”

* * * * *

Thousands of winged figures sat in a massive coliseum. In the center, an equally massive map was drawn with countless figurines placed around it.

Several individuals stood atop the map, discussing various strategies and movements. Even the blind could have seen their splendor. The divinity that radiated off these individuals.

“Evros, could you send three billion of your Undead to Sector Three?” Anera asked.

“I could, but that would leave Sector Five vastly undermanned. What about sending five million of Taloa’s Golems to Sector Three?”

Anera shook her head, “Her Golems are tied up fighting against the Argalon in Sector Six.”

Each word the Gods spoke was carefully recorded and checked by the Angels in the stands. Each statement was ran through the records to see if it was possible or not. All while more records were brought in from the ongoing war outside.

This war council had been ongoing for the last month and showed no sign of stopping any time soon. Such was the nature of a war that spanned thousands of planets, even if none of them were inhabitable.

A war that had been waging for thousands of years. A war that had taken incalculable lives. A war that had seen the destruction of numerous celestial bodies. A war that Humanity was losing. Slowly but surely.

The doors to the council were thrown open, slamming into the walls loudly and silencing the conversations. A bloodied man stumbled into the room, covered in blood from both his enemies, and his own. Every movement he made caused some of the blood to drip down onto the polished stone.

Metos, Human God of War, sat down in a small puddle of his own blood, breathing heavily and painfully.

“Sectors Seven, Eight, and Nine have been lost.”

The silence grew heavy.

The Sectors were organized with numbers. The Home Sector, where Humans and Angels lived, was numbered one. When the war had begun, Humanity had over three thousands Sectors under their control.

Over the centuries, they had slowly lost almost all of them. Now, Humanity had been corralled down to nine sectors. This is where Humanity fought the hardest, forming a wall that kept out the enemy. It had been this way for just over a century. But now, that Wall had been broken. In just a single report, they lost a third of their sectors.

Now, Humanity only had five sectors remaining before the Argalon could directly attack their home.

Ebris turned away from his wounded friend as several Angels rushed to attend to him. Ebris turned his gaze towards the planet that had started this war.

Like most of the Gods, he had been there when Humanity had first landed on that planet. He had been there to see the survivors of Humanity struggle against the Monsters. He had personally seen his friends and family be torn apart from the Monsters who hunted them for sport.

Humanity tried to defend itself using the tools and few weapons they had arrived with, but it was like fighting a bear with a toothpick.

It was a slaughter.

The revival of the Nanobots changed that, from a slaughter by Monsters, to a slaughter of themselves. The raw System struggled to comprehend just how fragile Humans were. Of the hundreds of thousands of survivors, only a few thousands could withstand the powers that were forced into them.

The rest died from the effects of their own Magics. Fire Mages were burned alive, reducing their bodies to ash with their own power. Water Mages found themselves drowning on dry land. Many people couldn’t even withstand the power long enough for the Magic to manifest, resulting in their bodies exploding, covering their surroundings in gore.

But the few who withstood the assault of Magic on their bodies grew powerful enough to fight back against the Monsters. And the more they fought the Monsters, the stronger they became. In just a few years, they were no longer struggling every day just to survive the night.

Ebris was one of a true handful whose Hibernation Bays had survived the eons of space travel. He had been a mere child when his father, a genetic engineer, had given up his Bay for him. But he had not been so young so as to not remember the Earth before it died. To this day, hundreds of thousands of years later, Ebris still found himself occasionally reaching into his pocket for a phone that had not existed for Millions of years.

Ebris, God of the Dead, the last survivor of Earth, records keeper of Humanity, who had seen the death of Humanity’s birthplace, who had witnessed Humanity’s revival on another planet across the stars, had seen it struggle to survive and learn how to fight back, and now, who was watching it die yet again.

As a man who was so in tune with the primordial power of Death, Ebris had a different viewpoint than others.

“Will we survive the cataclysm this time?”