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“WHERE IN ALL THE DEMON-FUCKED TAILHOLES ARE THOSE GRIFFONS?! COWARDS! WHERE’RE THE COUNT’S MEN! MAY TRINITY’S FATHER CURSE YOU ALL TO DAMNATION!”

Fury.

“THERE’S NO POINT! LOOK AT THE SKY! IT SCREAMS AS OUR PARENTS TOLD! THE DEMON-KING! HE’S RETURNING SO SOON! RUN! RUN! GET OUT WHILE YOU STILL CAN!”

Panic.

“The fires…they won’t stop…this air…I can’t…breathe this air…how many even hit us? How could they fire…so many so quicky? Why…why…would anyone do this? Summer…why would you…let this happen…on your day?”

Despair.

So many shouts of so many kinds and sorts. All frantic in their own divergent manners and ways. Fires continued to burn throughout the grand city of Coastfield. Yet the situation in the outskirts remained largely the same…which was, in fact, rather the improvement, for to stagnate meant that…at least things were no longer becoming any worse, even if not better.

The foreigner swiftly made way, arriving to this…new scene at play, having heard quite the potent boom originating from here.

A commercial or…workshop district of sorts…a familiar one at that. Indeed, she recalled clearly…having had searched and scoured through these buildings around during her…quest for employment all those months prior.

During the festives…this area had quite the myriad of stands for fireworks and pyrotechnics of all kinds—among other relevant objects—many of which were…arcanely endowed, and all of which had…chain-detonated in fury only moments prior. Now the whole district was ablaze, burnt and torn corpses scattered all around—most of them fresh and new; victims of their own bravity.

Twenty souls, the foreigner could claim she had saved; twenty out of the many whom…she could not. One hour and thirty-five minutes or so…such was approximately how long it has been since all of this had so…abruptly begun; truly…not that long at all…actually, even if it felt like…several eternities.

She inspected around…search and rescue, that was still her priority. Though…in this area…all she could do was drag the injured and…corpses…off the paths and streets…and towards the sides.

“What arcane knowledges even made this stuff?! Gods’ sacred toilet!” a denizen shouted, hurling bucket after bucket of…sewage-collected water.

“We’ll certainly be needing a sacred toilet to extinguish this crap out!” another nearby shouted in reply.

“Firesnappers and glow-jars…with color-glaze sorcery flare-juices, I’ve worked with this stuff…once on fire they can burn even hotter than demon-flames! It’s in slush form so don’t get any on you! Seriously!” so shouted another, one more familiar with these sorts of affairs, seemingly.

Indeed, such was yet another emerging problem…one specific to sites like here. It appeared that…some of these objects, trinkets, and ‘firesnappers’—whatever those were even supposed to be—had some form of arcane-imbued cosmetic chemicals—a synthetic, yet primitive, product of Far Western ‘alchemy’, sorcery, and their burgeoning material sciences.

Ostensibly, they were used to produce this ‘truly eye-fetching’ and ‘impossible to describe’ display of colors and glowing spectacles…but, consequently, they were also…highly flammable in all the worstest of ways. Indeed, the flames that were spawned from that chain-detonation and the spread of the other fires…were magically endowed in kind.

These flames eating at everything around…burned colorfully and happily, as if taunting all those whom they inflicted such misery. Though, besides being spectacular in glee, liquid and sticky, and stupendously hot…these burned no differently than typical fires, having not the same…esoteric properties as those nasty-red flames.

The foreigner, having dragged out those she could, stood there…now feeling utterly useless as all she did was watch the denizens…water away. She was burned in more ways than not, but she could not possibly care any less.

There was…not much for her to do here, besides quickly moving on…she had elsewhere she wanted to be. She withdrew, trailing along with yet another…group of denizens who were making way in kind.

The outskirts’ guards had…finally begun to move-in all so suddenly, though…of course…skipping right passed everything else…heading straight for the inner-walls, echoing from which were…quite the many clamoring shouts. Many souls desperate to flee, the inner-gates having been seemingly reopened…as streams of masses flowed through the outskirts, heading for the outer-gates.

Yet…the guards were struggling to keep them from squeezing themselves in a mass crush through the narrow gates, a chaotic bottleneck slowing everything down. Or rather…perhaps the guards were being intentionally cautious and methodically slow, trying to keep the gates clear enough for the more…important people to evacuate first, denying everyone else until then.

Whispering accounts seemed to vary, suffice it to say; no doubt, the truth was…somewhere in the middle. Nevertheless, the blunt reality remained the same: the inner-walls had not evacuated nearly enough souls…there was a blockage of traffic.

Thus, that was the where the foreigner…was slowly making her way. The outskirts…the denizens here seemed to be managing; her efforts…while helpful…were not quintessential. Past the inner-walls…was where the heart of this inferno was…so that was where she felt…she now needed to be.

Boom. A large and potent red-orange explosion suddenly detonated far, but close enough; so many screams and calls echoed as debris and shrapnel came raining down. Immediately, she and the rest…took cover, eyeing the direction, seeing the residual cloud.

“Gods’ sacred…another dud kaboomed” a denizen near remarked; “All of you! Don’t touch any shells! Just ‘cause they didn’t boom don’t mean they’re safe! Idiots—” he began to cough rather the nasty coughs.

“Could’ve been flames that made it boom…but don’t think…it’ll be any of that…that kills us…but the cough…” another remarked…while coughing in kind.

Bearings recollected, they continued making way…the foreigner trailing along; yet oddly, she seemed…to be struggling with keeping pace. She never struggled to outrun denizens, yet there she was…struggling to even match their already slow speed…never mind struggling to breathe.

The denizens paused in realization, halting as many turned to face; “Hey…hey, servant of the God of Climbing…you don’t…you don’t seem well, and I mean that…respectfully ‘course…but is the”—coughing interrupted—“is this…air getting to ya too?”

She slowed down, halting…her breaths unpleasant and raspy; lethargic, drowsy, and…visibly reaching a limit of sorts…running dry, it was as if.

Yet, “I am fine. Keep moving.” she replied ever-sternly.

“No…no, divinely endowed you may be…but you’re still a girl…listen: we haven’t even reached the inner-walls and you’re already…like this; the air’s a lot worse there…” a denizen remarked; “…and I get you’re wanting to help, but the Count’s men are now starting to move there…and the outskirts is looking finer…”

“Yeah” another inserted himself, “there’re a lot of folks startin’ to come out…many of them are strugglin’ to make their way…and that’s what’s more important now…I can smell it…just look at the sky…a firetide’s comin’, that must be why things’re startin’ to move faster…those demon-flames’ve been burnin’ too long…”; “I say any of us who can’t move nomore…start headin’ back to the outer-walls…and start helpin’ any folks who’re strugglin’ to make it themselves… You should as well” he suggested.

The foreigner…struggling to keep her posture straight, let alone stand, simply sighed in acknowledgment. Indeed, compared to all other moments prior, she felt even worse than the very air around.

“Fine…I will do so” she replied, before glancing her ignited eyes to one then two, pointing her finger; “You two…however…must come with me, I may need…the help” she…admitted, though with a voice of piercing authority.

“Yeah…not just you two, like he said, anyone who can’t keep going anymore…go check on your families and let ‘em know you’re breathing…mine’s been dead, so don’t matter if I burn…so I know where I’m going…” a denizen stated.

Nods and responses levied onwards, yet without any more delay, the foreigner along with many others split from this collection, heading all the way back to the outer-walls. A sense of…defeat was evident around, never mind lingering feelings of abandonment.

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Making their way, a building they passed by…having been devoured by such nasty-red flames, abruptly collapsed...as a toxic puff of scorching ash and dust came flowing.

“GET BACK! AND DON’T STOP!” Denizens clamored and hailed as many found themselves suddenly engulfed in the burning cloud.

Without any thought, the foreigner shifted her focus and lanced her way back to that building, and swiftly began to help dig and drag out those who had been caught, the others joining her.

A denizen…stood himself up with her help, burnt and covered in dust, both coughing such nasty coughs. “Thanks…thanks…Gods know I’d die for a woman like you…” he remarked, or rather blurted out; “Now then…where’s my bucket?”

Yet the foreigner quickly yanked him; “No. You are too hurt, and you would be useless…go to the outer-walls and leave…” she said…bluntly; “I and the others with me…will give help” she added.

He scoffed, but…acknowledged; “How caring…of you…miss undergarments…you’re right though, Demons fuck…my back…” he replied, groaning in pain and coughing ever-more. Everyone around was coughing so, she as well…her own lungs felt as though they were being burned asunder—though, her essence and other such affairs will make repairs, while the denizens on the other hand…

The survivors of this suddenty…cleared off as much carcinogenic dust as they could from themselves…coughing in frenzy. “Yeah, no-no…we need to leave…any longer and the cough will kill us…maybe not now but a week forward…we did what we could” another remarked, coughing away.

Despite not being able to gain breathly respite, they all began to make way again, helping those they could along the way, joining the evacuating columns.

Abruptly, however…pause. Every single one of them…began to bumpingly pause in a freeze, as all ears began to perceive…emerging sounds…echoing from afar; distinct sounds which only pierced more and more the closer they grew.

Echoing…ever-closer…before, as if suddenly: an onslaught of unmistakable screeching shrieks.

Seemingly unnoticed until appearing rather spontaneously as if from pure nothingness, Griffon Knights armed with sky-lances and…bombs swarmed and flew overhead in mass…at rather the low-altitude too; their griffons’ abhorrent shrieking calls pierced the ears and spines of everyone below as more froze and stared above. On the griffons’ backs were not just their knights, however, but also freelancer mages…in contracted service to the Count’s army.

All were stunned in silence…before many, but not all, erupted into a frenzy of cough-filled rejoicing. Finally!

“Finally! FINALLY! AHA! YES! I KNEW THEY’D EVENTUALLY SHOW!” a denizen shouted in rejoice as most around began to wave their arms and hands in hailing cheer, calling out as loud as they could to those arriving griffons above.

“We’re saved! We will survive this!” another shouted, rallying.

“HEY! DOWN HERE! YOU’VE GOT MAGES, RIGHT?! DOWN HERE! WE NEED HELP!” yet another shouted in waving hail, bouncing almost.

Yet… Nothing. No response. No acknowledgment…besides a few…guilty evasive stares from the freelancers above.

The griffons continued on, flying past and making way straight for the interior beyond the inner-walls…no doubt, the Count’s grand palace in particular, thus most assumed; yet also…something else.

The rallied rejoices quickly turned…mutating as it sprung towards the opposite.

“Oh…OH. You. fucking. PIECE OF ABSOLUTE…ARGH! Demon-aborted BASTARDS!” a truly frustrated denizen, one among many, clamored out in beyond-scorn, kicking his foot into the ash-filled ground.

“I guess…that must be…pretty bad past the inner-walls then, I mean…just look…look at all the ash that’s been falling down…not even during the…great fire did the sky look…so…so…” a denizen was remarking, interrupted by coughing.

“Yeah, I’ve just heard people’ve been startin’ to fight with the guards…tryin’ to get through the gates…it’s a wave-crush…” another remarked.

“That’d explain all them…angry shoutin’ cries that’ve been hearin’ from there” another replied.

The frustrated denizen, however, scoffed; “Bah…be honest, we all know those ‘chivalrous’ knights are only flying straight for the Count’s palace and noble districts…their own homes and better-blooded families…they don’t care for us common folk or the outskirts…” he remarked with even greater scorn.

The foreigner, standing in place, sighed; she herself was…rather perplexed by this action as well, something seemed…off to her, in fact…but her priorities remained the same: they needed to continue making way—especially now that the local arial forces have finally arrived. “There is no reason in standing for talking; it is necessary to move” she stated frankly.

Yet…before she could recontinue to move, she froze solid in place, her spine, her hears…tingling…in sensory detection. Everyone else was frozen solid in kind, as they too began to…notice.

Sounds. Specific sounds…suddenly tremoring and echoing…from afar. Already suffocated breaths became heavier and more clenched…as cold-dread filled the veins of all lingering souls around.

“No…no, this can’t be…that has to be just fire-thunder, right? Just fire-thunder…has to be…” a denizen desperately wanted to believe.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

So many thuds shook the very air; unrelenting in fury, the tremoring hellstorm so swiftly reignited in singing hails of…impending retaliation.

“Yeah n-n-n-no NO! GODS’ RECKONING! Th-th-those… The Gods are joking, right?! Those bombard-ships are still there! THEY’VE BEEN WATCHING US BURN THIS ENTIRE TIME!” a denizen screamed out.

“THAT DON’T MATTER! FIND A HIDE! FIND A HIDE! RUN! EVERYONE RUN!”

Screams and cries. Everyone, which was to say everyone, frantically scattered for cover, bumping and trampling into each other as cohesion completely collapsed. Flaring high up in the sky, trailing with such strange…whitish-blue fury, was a renewed hellstorm of falling shells, which came singing in their whistling operatic screams of hailing death.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

So many shells boomed and shattered up in mid-air, violently exploding in crystalline detonations, unleashing a fury of glittery dust and rapidly forming spikes which scattered and lanced forth in all directions…carried by the detonation’s momentum.

The nascent spikes throbbed in instability, shattering and bursting into smaller needles and spikes…which only did the same in kind, shattering and bursting into more and more…releasing so much sharp crystalline dust.

Griffons in the sky scattered evasively as these strange, crystalline, and likely improvised anti-air…shells boomed in bursting fury in all the air around. Crystalline burst-spikes pierced into dozens of knights, freelancers, and griffons alike…chain-bursting as wings, limbs, and…figures were bloodied asunder; griffons and bodies came tumbling down, smashing into the ground. Crystal bursting spikes and needles came raining down in kind, striking and ripping into buildings and scattering people alike.

These arcane crystalline shells themselves…detonated inconsistently.

Many reached well near the ground before exploding, releasing an even greater fury of crystalline dust and burst-spikes everywhere around, burst-tearing into those unlucky to be struck near and close, even devastating insides in shattering frenzy. Others detonated far too high up to be impactful…albeit all of that glittery sharp dust still came softly down, infesting the air around, cutting into throats and lungs.

The foreigner…certainly against better judgment…ran with all the rest. She could not simply hold in place and fall to cover…since to pause would simply mean to be trampled. Yet…she needed to find cover; they all needed to find cover…as crystalline cloudy death washed down from high above, never mind the crashing griffons…which were just as deadly as those spikes and shells.

She ran and she ran, carried by the crying crowd. Yet her breathing…her breathing…it was bad before, but now…this air, this air…it was impossible to breathe. She was coughing ferociously…she could not breathe.

So much…burning toxic ash…and crystalline dust, this sparkly fog of glitter…was infesting everywhere…so much of it. She could see…people…breathing in so much…choking and coughing, falling to their knees…clenching throats…falling down…spazzing in bleeding suffocation…this dust…so fine and sharp…even when not inhaled…it could still cut eyes and skin.

Yet…none of that was…why she was struggling so…to keeping moving…

All of her prior weaknesses and feelings…all of the prior signs…they were all unraveling, here and now. Her body…her mind…her brain…her nerves…not simply exhausted…they could no longer…function.

Dry…she felt so dry. Weak…she felt so weak. Delirious and dizzy…she felt so delirious and dizzy. Shutting down…she was shutting down…

With a single stumbling trip over a corpse…she fell down onto her face…as denizens frantically passed her by. Screams…shouts…carnage…raining dust and griffons and…blood and pieces...so much carnage. Her mind…she was lost in the frenzy… blanking completing.

She tried to crawl herself forward…yet…her arms, her body, all were unresponsive…in total defiance to her brain’s commands. Sound…became mute as all senses deafened in feeling; her consciousness began to wither…as she began to…shutdown; her vision…not blind, yet…darkening.

Suddenly…however, she was…picked up…carried…she was being carried by…someone…or rather…obscure and shadowy…as if a hole existed in her vision…nothing perceivable…yet she was still being carried…frantically, desperately, so.

Ah…truly…what a disgrace to be so ‘rescued’…by what was most certainly…a denizen…of all things.

Yet such wildering thoughts did not persist, for her mind…quickly faded and withdrew…as all the world around turned…dark, becoming nothing at all.

No more memories to be found and followed. The foreigner no longer ‘in commission’ as events continued to unfold. The barrage continued for a few seconds longer before pausing once the threat was cleared. New shells were loaded; rockets were once again prepared.

Thudding away, a relentless barrage of explosive shells and incendiary rockets of both conventional kind and nasty-red…bombarded the grand city of Coastfield one last time, with fire being concentrated upon anything of strategic value or symbolic importance…though, it was hardly truly aimed.

Broadside cannons unleashed their own explosive demonstration upon the remains of the grand port and coastal districts, as well as everything close and near. Before it all concluded with a barrage against the Count’s very own towering grand palace, which too was now burning ablaze.

The black ships—which had been lingering this entire time beyond the foggy shadows of the coast, obscured by the dark moonless night, watching and waiting as the wheels of this so-called ‘international diplomacy’ slowly turned—had given the Count of Coastfield their final answer, his griffons having arrived too soon.

Their point having not only been made visibly clear, but also demonstrated definitively, the alien black ships finally withdrew and set sail away with haste…for they had lingered for too long. Coastfield was left to burn in thunderous hellfire…an example having been made.

A message. A warning.

To all those would-be vultures and watching eyes; to all those ears that would inevitably hear; to all those remaining disparate ‘native’ realms of this continent; no clearer of a point had just been demonstrated: the future was no longer waiting for any of them to catch up.