The Titan
Those miserable creatures, it sneered. The wretch invaders spread out before the Ratsin king, distastefully defiant and bold. Tiny, yet they thought themselves strong. Criminal. Profane. Unsavory. None should do anything less than bow to its supreme self. Strongest of the vicious. Paragon of mutilation. The devouring scion. The Titan.
Its kingdom has been vigorous and flawlessly violent. The strong rose to the top and the weak were devoured. As the world should be. These world breakers had ruined everything. All his subjects slain and turned to dust. The Great Flow had been stopped. Nectar left untouched for there were no more fleshings. No new children to be tested and raised. Desolation.
Revenge, that was the desire that vibrated through the great monster. Resonating and overwhelming that deepness need in all Ratsins to devour. Everything paled before The Titan’s ache to annihilate these interlopers.
Such an act would be right and curative. The truth of it was self-evident. Sweep aside these invaders and everything would return to normal. The world would be righted with sacred violence. A pure and righteous thing. The Mothers still produced after feeding and his brawny care. The Titan suspected the Spawn were being suppressed by the interlopers. A sin most foul, one that broke the fundamentals of the world.
Its hallowed halls had grown too quiet. Where was the song of carnage? The duet of dying and triumph that filled the world was gone. There was only the silence of extinction. Those disgusting creatures had ruined it all. The strong were not slaying the weakest so that the best rose.
For generations uncountable, The Titan oversaw the Great Savagery. Cultivated stronger spawn by seed and feed. Pushed his underlings to slaughter the pretenders and bring only the finest before it. Allowed the best to feed upon Pure Nectar, to become more. To evolve, and be further tested.
A holy practice to churn the Ratsin towards greater strength. One day, those it blessed to be strong, would succeed where so many failed. As The Titan had done to the strongest before its rule. In a cataclysmic battle a new king will claim the throne, but not this day. There was no virtuous heir to lay down a challenge. Only the invaders. Those tiny things were unworthy. It bore scars from their foul power, but that’s all there would ever be. Scars to signal his victory over terrible foes.
A Ratsin should only be murdered by a stronger Ratsin. The Titan would see to it that this remained true. It was devout to the will of the world. The weak must be slaughtered so the strong prevail.
The strongest Ratsin roared.
Clarissa Evans
The cavern shook to its foundations. New fissures formed and old ones closed. A thousand shades of azure light strobed as the blue fauna reacted to The Titan’s bellow. Surges of energy raced outwards from the Ratsins, waves rapidly chasing after each other. Reality rippled, appearing to sink around the beast so that it appeared to be the center of all things. A heart connected to flashing veins. Rage stressed the contour of the monster's face, showcasing the contrast of its inhumanity and that disturbing drop of humanity.
The Sixty stared this massive horror down and did not flinch. Mana flowed outwards to combat the distortions of the monster king. The world around them quivered, but the ground they stood upon stayed still.
Clarissa stood at the head of the archers. Arrows aimed and charged with Mana. A field of multicolored stars. As the roar of The Titan wound down, she gave the signal. The twang of the bowstrings unified into a single sound. Streaks of colors flashing, sparking, and flaring. For a moment, the archers and the massive Ratsin were connected by the lines of light. Then one side exploded as the other faded.
New stars formed at impact. Violent suns of extraordinary variety. Some ignited flesh, a few seared it off, and others pierced deeply. Nothing vital was hit in that barrage, the Titan was quick to react. Raised arms took the brunt of the attack. Bone showed in the aftermath, but the face was untouched despite Clarissa’s efforts to blind it.
There was a nonchalant roll of the shoulders as the beast dropped its arms. Azure blood oozed slowly over the burns to fill in the missing mass. The Titan looked undaunted, but that just wouldn’t do. The archers couldn’t allow that.
Their part in the battle plan was to maintain constant pressure. Even as the unified barrage was tanked, her people began to ready new shots. After the opening shot, the order of the day was to fire at will. Seek to hurt and distract. The space between became filled with powerful charged shots alongside streams of rapidly fired ones. Each of the Sixty were allowed to lean on their personal strengths.
Great bolts of furious sunlight heavily bombarded joints while Clarissa fired arrows that split into dozens. A rain of green needles to create a backdrop to hide the hidden daggers that were Amiyah’s arrows. Flighty as a bird, the deadly gray streaks curved from unexpected angles forcing The Titan on the defensive. In this distracted state, the bulk of the archers were able to hit the soft targets that the monster abandoned to preserve the critical. The pressure mounted, that full focus on one target showing the power of those who trained under her. All the while, the other gears of the battle plan rolled forward smoothly.
The frontline rolled forward, careful steps and gleaming shields ready. Just behind the melee fighters marched and waited. Mana infusing their bodies pulsing, eager to be used. Acolytes under Damian’s command followed next, words of heavy power murmured outwards from secreted whispers. Molly’s puppet moved alone in the shadows to be in a position to flank. Healers offered prayers as Harken led others in a chain of blessings, layers upon layers.
Weapons were sharp, power had been called, and the miracles were ready to fall.
Pressure built with each step taken. Ever closer they drew to the next stage for the fight. Fully engaging The Titan with everything they had. There was some noticeable reduction in numbers, nevertheless, confidence was soaring. Shooting for the sky. The Sixty knew of itself as a formidable force. This fact was especially certain in regards to Ratsins. In their eyes, the size was only an obstacle. They could be staggered, but forward was their way to go. The momentum was there. It wouldn’t be denied. Couldn’t.
Clarissa felt the crescendo begin. Ancient instincts older than humanity awakened and whispered of the heat of the next moments. This knowledge was stronger than ever because of the excitement of Mana in the air. Swirling and singing around her.
She knew this experience fundamentally. It was the chase and the hunt. The cry of bloodlust and that deep desperate need for sustenance. Battle had changed the shape of it, but the redhead knew it with illogical fondness. Not love, for that, would be too far for something like this. Instead, simply an old role far too comfortable. A toll of insanity that surpassed fear. It always rose up sharply when the need was utmost. Rapturely, this flowed through the Sixty, energizing and focusing every last one.
The surge of life on the edge of death.
That O’ so intoxicating need to survive, grinned Clarissa manically. Her face was flushed, her eyes appeared darkened, and the brave laughter of the fearful escaped her.
Then the frontliners took that second to the last step before The Titan. One more stride and the battle would accelerate beyond control. All their plans would play out to victory or failure. There was no way to change anything now. The crescendo was here.
Time seemed to slow down for Clarissa. Her heart beat faster as the moment screamed into an eternity. The Titan looked away from the bombardment of the archers to see the frontliners so close. Too close. Thick lips pulled back in a snarl, azure flames licking between teeth. It shifted from a defensive posture to allowing the projectiles to hit. The monster’s purpose switched to assault the melee fighters.
Great beacons of Mana burst into life. A swarm of violet stars sprayed towards The Titan, exploding with enough impact to throw its stance into disarray. Serpent-like stream of electrified wind entangled the legs causing rank fur and blue blood to scatter into the air. The green-gray storm gnawed frantically at the Ratsin’s flesh. A purplish mass dropped from the shadows of the ceiling, latching on and lashing at the beast’s face. Molly’s undead puppet tackled the monster king to its knees. The stone rippled and gave way to the descending knee and the buckling leg. Spears of jagged rock sprang upwards as the massive horror sunk into the ground.
The world reverted to normal time in a snap. A pained howl sounded like a horn calling forth the charge and the frontline listened. The shield bearers shifted into four clusters as the melee fighter charged through the new thoroughfares. Some leaped, others simply ran, but all unleashed their built-up intent on the suffering Ratsin. A new rainbow of pain appeared as Mana flared around weapons. The Sister’s cursed flames caught like wildfire and Phelain’s white flames plumed bright. Clarissa dropped the suppression shots for precise shots. A green arrow here or there to safely nudge the thrashing of the monster king. The Sixty poured on as much damage as possible in the next couple of instances. Before that all too expected counterattack.
And it came.
Azure blood burst into flames, but maintained a liquidity nature. The Titan became a living volcano. A mad inferno that turned spiteful eyes on the Sixty. Malachi’s voice boomed over the battlefield, leading a retreat behind the barriers raised by the frontliners. Blue flames chased and nipped at the heels of the attackers. Not everyone made it to safety when the four clusters of defenders locked back into place, creating a diverting island to the singeing fluid. The undead poppet got caught in the azure lava and much of its flesh burned away. What was left was mostly just boned held together by purple thread.
The forces of the Sixty pulled back as Clarissa and her archers tested the new form. Projectiles rained down on the burning blue Ratsin as it thrashed. Waves of the azure liquid washed against the barriers. Human Mana battled with corruption, pungent steam rising where the two met. The frontline slowly kept backing up to escape the strain of holding too much of the molten blood back. Using the breathing room, The Titan broke free from the earthen pit. It rose to stand again. Towered over them, wretched and half-solid. There was no longer any humor in the Ratsin’s expression. Hatred was primary, but wariness lay along the jaw and under the eyes.
Perhaps the seed of cowardice, thought Clarissa.
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A deep bellow echoed in the chamber as the Ratsin spoke unfound words. Almost syllables that shook the mind with disgust. The Titan thundered its chest, calling in discordant tones. The azura lava quivered and rushed back to the source. The spreading mound of mad liquid was suddenly taking a hardened shape. Before their eyes, the monster king was made whole. Ignited blood cooled, filling holes and replacing flesh.
It didn’t completely return to normal. The fur never returned and the blue glow continued. The Titan became a shape of irradiated illumination. Dark shapes glared and sneered down at the Sixty. The glowing beast pulled back a fist as it took a step forward. There was a flash of mad light as a monstrous punch smashed into the frontline’s barrier. A shudder ran through the layered defensives and then a crack cut across the field.
The second punch shattered the barriers.
Malachi Armstrong
He watched the wall come down, first indenting towards them before the strain caused cracks to spiral out from the monstrous fist. The glowing arm drew back as fading shards of the barrier rained down. Two strikes and plans died. Frontliners moaned, a few falling to their knees from a brutal backlash that passed through the Sixty’s defenders. Precious seconds would be needed before a new wall could be summoned.
His mind began to stall as it tried to accept their narrowing options. Many of the safer strategies were useless. Stalling was lost as a contingency. There would be no assault from behind strong walls. Unreliable and too weak.
Damn… are we not powerful enough yet? asked his fear.
NO
A denial decreed by something deep within Malachi. His voice of duty and right. It had guided him to the leadership of the Sixty. Always whispering, guiding the bearded man to the choices that made others trust his authority. He grasped that iron and refocused on his purpose. The remains of their array of battleplans immediately came together under his scrutiny. Each step to victory was clear to him. The sword acolyte drew on the silver Mana of his mantle and roared. A single word that was deeply soaked in intention. Brimming with complete meaning and a message delivered immediately upon hearing.
“Leon!”
Malachi felt the connection the moment the barrier acolyte heard his call. A spark of comprehension passed between them. The Titan roared in triumph, rising its foot to stomp on the dazed frontliners. A barrier appeared like a flying sheet to divide man from monster. Upon impact the Ratsin found the translucent field to be unyielding and slick. Its mighty force was directed to the side by the incline. The monster king’s stance was broken as its feet stretched far apart. Unbalanced, it collapsed.
“Allen!” “Russel”
His mind ticked to the next steps, calling out the way forward. Understanding once more bloomed through the bond of Malachi’s mantle. From above, heavy spears of wrathful flames bombarded the massive beast. Sharp brittle stone pierced from below and broke off within its flesh. The azure layer of protection became cracked and charred.
Seeing/feeling the need and readiness, Malachi roared, “Shields up! Archers at the ready!”
The shield wall rose again from the recovered shieldbearers. Appearing just in time to take the strike from The Titan. Cracks spreading out further than before. Didn’t matter, the blow was blocked. Malachi moved down the list.
“Archers, Fire! Shields down, charge!”
Arrows streaked above as the melee fighters roared and attacked. Chucks of the azure shell splintered and liquified upon the ground. The image of mice swarming a cat passed through his mind without humor, but Malachi didn’t deny the feeling. Numbers were an important advantage for them. Just as the size was the Ratsin’s. He thanked his lucky stars that speed was theirs too.
When the timer in his head went off, the leader of the Sixty called them back. Protecting their retreat, Malachi commanded Damian to carpet bomb The Titan. Violet light illuminated the Giant’s Lair as the obsidian acolyte held nothing back.
“Analia! Jorgenson!”
Pilling on top of the arcane blitz, orbs of storm and darkness joined as they poured their full strength into the attack as well. The Titan was pummeled into the ground, but it wasn’t willing to endure. A strange ragged sound of inhaling escaped the denotations. This alerted Malachi in time to call for a new shield wall. The azure flame rose from the colorful battle fog to burn out the descending projectiles. The fire spread outwards and flowed over the monster king.
The shield wall held back the wave of flames. Luckily, the Sixty didn’t need to hold it long as the corrupting flames began to dissolve the barrier. Malachi saw the strain to resist that effect and called for them to drop it. The Titan began to stand up, its blue armor crumbling in places.
“Phelain! Wa… Molly!”
The arisen warrior charged forward like a bullet. Unwavering at the monster’s head. Its azure eyes locked on and a cruelly pleased grin appeared as it reached for Phelain. Suddenly, a skeletal figure leaped on the monster king from behind. Molly’s puppet wretched the head upwards, revealing the neck to the white flames. The sword shattered through the azure shell and white fire exploded within.
At Malachi’s command, the archer fired a distraction. Giving cover for Phelain to return. He made it back, but the controlled corpse was swept aside. Molly cried out as her connection broke. The sword acolyte felt her connection brighten and dim as she was knocked unconscious.
The white flames continued to burn. Sizzling sounds and smoke rose from The Titan. Taking advantage by calling for another acolyte bombardment, but this time he called for a charge as well. The full might of the Sixty fell upon the monster king like a thousand hammers. Spells tore and softened the Ratsin, the Melee fighters arrived immediately after to bring their power to bear and then under the call of retreat, the archers offered their own storm so the Sixty could reset their position.
Malachi felt pride watching his people lay such a beast low. Victory felt very close.
Shields rose again as the Sixty reformed for the next maneuver. Exhaustion was showing on everyone's faces. He knew this needed to end soon. The sword acolyte checks his status, seeing the next steps and where his Mana reserves were. Malachi’s personal Mana was in fine shape since he hadn't directly engaged much. The pool of the mantle though was low, commands with information packets were apparently exhaustive. Especially when used on all of the Sixty. It made sense when the infusion sped up and aided in quickly complying with the orders. He suspected that they were draining on the others as it was for him. A price worth paying for precision.
We’ll need better communication than my shouting in the future, noted Malachi. He shaped the next command with silver Mana keeping it in mind to make the pool last. Still. There wouldn’t be any hesitation to use every last drop if that’s what it took.
The Titan rose unsteadily from the fading haze of the last assault. Great pieces of blue clumps sloughed off the Ratsin. It trickled and streamed in places to reveal ruined flesh. On top of brutal wounds, the monster king appeared gooey and deflated. It panted, looking down at the dripping foulness. The luminescence faded from the goop until it was just a pale substance draining into the crevices of the chamber.
When the Ratsin looked up there wasn’t the indignation Malachi expected. Instead, it expressed several shades of pathetic bitterness. It divided attention between the Sixty and the back of the Lair with jerky glances. The Titan shifted its weight backward, and even took a small step away.
Is it about to run? blinked Malachi. Where?
Harken burst into view and almost tackled the sword acolyte. Words poured from the priestly man’s mouth, verging on raving, “Malachi! Don’t let it go back there! That happens, and we all die! Restored! The Titan gets restored, it is too much for us to do it all over again! I think that’s why Roseline sacrificed herself for me! She knew I would see it and warn you! Then, why didn’t she just warn us? Maybe her foresight only saw that I was necessary for the good path? Or is it just important for it to happen this way?
The leader of the Sixty slapped the man, hoping it wasn’t becoming a habit of his. “Speak clearly, Harken! What are you talking about?”
“I have seen it! That beast rejuvenates! Something back there gives The Titan its power back! That can’t be allowed… I saw why…”
His eyes darted through the Ratsin to the false sun at the back of the Giant’s Lair. The implicate was quick and clear. The azure fauna was a key resource for the rat things and there was something extraordinary about what was back there. Without the warning, Malachi thought he would have allowed The Titan to corner itself to pin it. That was clearly too risky.
Pushing Harken aside, Malachi hefted his stone sword and bellowed, “Full Assault, take it down!” The last of his silver Mana filtered out with the words, encouraging and boosting the Sixty. He regretted taking a chance, but the necessity was too strong to ignore. The Titan had to fall. The sword acolyte put action to his words and charged.
The Sixty rushed towards The Titan. Despite the signs of exhaustion, they moved fast and as a solid unit. It saw the wave of humanity and lost all hesitation. The Ratsin booked it towards the baleful white light. Size and weak limbs slowed the beast, but long legs gave the monster a speed all of its own. Malachi’s bowels went cold and he put everything into running. Descending into that state in which spells were cast to focus entirely on moving as quickly as possible.
Speed, he thought and yearned for. Just need to get closer and I can do something. Faster!
In the peace of that place, Malachi found a new spell. There was wonder at the sight of his need being answered, but the sword acolyte didn’t take the time to marvel at it. After all, magic was the solution to hope for. The words burst from him between breaths. Forced himself to maintain his reckless pace.
“Swift,
Sylph,
Sprint,
Wind’s Race!”
The wind embraced him and he was the gale. A gust unrelenting. Malachi’s speed skyrocketed, his pace becoming superhuman and each step like a leap. Through the frontline, he dashed. Quickly taking the lead and leaving the Sixty behind. Yet, there were footsteps keeping pace with him. To his side, Julia glowing with the dark blue of her Form, matching stride. They shared a smile and then grimly turned to the fleeing The Titan.
Malachi and Julia pushed themselves. Leaping over ravines and using every last breath to move just a little bit faster. Struggled to make every second count more than the last. Together they came into range. The Sixty was too far behind to aid and there wasn’t time to wait for the rest. The sword acolyte hoped that just the two of them were enough to stall or stop The Titan.
Once close, he aimed and timed it to perfection. The Ratsins foot came down and Malachi’s Barrer: Impale went up, a solid pillar of spears. The monster king cried out and stumbled. Its momentum was destroyed as the beast was forced to rip the foot free. The Titan may have rolled back into a run, but there was Julia. A comet of dark blue energy slammed into the steadying foot. That part audibly snapped as her shield bashed into it.
Crumbling to the ground, the Ratsin acted like a cornered animal. The Titan scrambled up, facing them on its knees. The monster king began to back up towards the false sun while hissing at them. Malachi considered the best approach.
Turning to Julia, he simply said to her, “I’ll make the opening... You, guillotine.”
Its boney claws thrashed at them, frantic and unpredictable. The sword acolyte wasn’t in the mood to play. Putting aside his frugal nature, Malachi drew deep on his Mana. Fast casting, translucent spears erupted from the ground to pin one arm and a bolt of fire tossed aside the other. Electricity burst into life along his stone sword as he rushed through the opening. Julia followed, guarding their backs with shield and sword.
Within the arms of The Titan, the two of them switched places. Malachi deflected the reaching arm with his lightning blade and Julia brought her shield field up to block the azure fire breathed on them. The flames died, they switched again. He focused the wind enchantment to his feet and leaped. A one handed grip to thrust it into the chest. Aiming for where the heart of a man would be. Thunder and lightning surged from within the beast and burst free.
The Titan screamed. Its body was locked in place by the shocked muscles. Malachi hung from one hand on the puncturing blade before letting go. The shieldmaiden smiled, dropped the shield, and reached her hand. They touched, gripping in a squeeze for luck and a thousand unspoken things. Dark Blue Mana surged and she shot up like a bullet. A single step on the protruding sword to throw herself higher. All the power sank into the blade as Julia reached the peak.
A simple swing.
Empowered with everything she had to turn it into something more.
A slash of Mana and the head of the Titan toppled.
Julia and Malachi dropped to the ground. Carefully, with weapons in their hands, they backed away in case anything would happen. Nothing did. By the time the rest of the Sixty arrived, everyone knew it was over.