When the formation activated, it was like a punch to the gut, and Kathrien knew the CC under her, serving as the core of the whole spell, was more dangerous than she thought. Still, the moment the spell started, there was no way to end it, as the backlash alone could be deadly. Pushing through, she focused her mind on it, chanting within herself, holding her own staff with closed eyes while more and more colorful runes lit up under her feet. Soon, all the other fourteen mages accompanying her were chanting en masse, creating a weird symphony and falling into a kind of trance none of them knew was possible.
It was as Kathrien thought. It was too late for all of them. By the time she realized something was wrong, her chanting was going on by itself, and her mind found it impossible to break away. Her mana was oscillating with every other mage inside the formation, their powers becoming one while tearing apart their bodies. It became a self-propagating action that they had no control over until it reached a boiling point, the pinnacle of the formation's power... then it exploded.
All the CC below their feet shattered, releasing the immense power stored within them, including the beast's mana under Kathrien. All fifteen mages turned into a colorful beam of light, soaring towards the darkened sky, zigzagging through the air as beams of energy until they honed onto the primary target, the city that the Empress of Envy initially focused on. By now, their bodies no longer existed, their souls shattered, and what flew through the sky was pure mana, designed to destroy everything in its path.
After the initial impact, the aftermath lasted for not minutes, hours, or days but weeks. Even when the giant sphere dissolved after glowing for multiple minutes, there remained a zone of pure death, where everything turned into glass, no matter what they were made out of. Where once a city stood, now there was only a plain, smooth, flat surface, like a beautiful lake. Yet... for the next month, nobody could approach it, as getting near made people burst into flames while their weapons and armor melted as if they were made of cheese.
Yet, it was not only Roria that was gone from any maps made in the future but the place where the Master-level formation was executed. The area became a similar death zone that let unmagical creatures and ordinary people close, but anybody sensitive to mana would die the moment they neared it. After all the CC used within shattered, there was now a cloud of powder floating there, ignoring all the natural laws, remaining there for who knows how long, and becoming a poison mist for all the mages in the world. It became a reminder that all Master-level formations require a price, one that maybe not everybody is ready to pay...
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Inside the palace, an air of pure chaos was brewing, something that brought Pascal out from hiding, confronting multiple others of the Royal family, half-brothers and half-sisters of Kathrien, cousins, uncles, and aunts, all of the extended family of the Ishillian bloodline. It was pure... madness.
There was no doubt in anybody that Kathrien was dead as her blood vial, stored within the Chamber of Ishillia, had solidified. Only those who ascended to the throne had their blood placed within the chamber, and whenever their life ended, their vial turned solid.
"That stupid bitch!" He roared, shouting, heaving so heavily he was afraid his old heart would burst open and kill him on the spot. "One... Two... Three..."
He could do nothing but begin counting, trying to calm down. It took him enough time to reach three digits before some clear thoughts finally appeared in his mind. First and foremost, he had to seal all information of Kathrien's passing until a new Empress or Emperor had been chosen. It must not be known until then, or it could spur some of their neighbors to attack them.
Sitting on the throne, he called on all of the bloodline members of the Royal family, announcing he was conducting the selection personally. This initiated a bloody game within them, one that had already been in the brewing since Kathrien's vial solidified. The only difference was that Pascal was now overseeing it, making sure enough family members survived so as not to endanger the bloodline's existence.
While he initiated the inheritance 'ritual,' he also sent his most loyal subordinates out to find information about what the hell happened on the frontlines, expecting the worst. Yet the shock he received only a few days later was still equal to a heart attack. He had to walk it off, given no other options by fate itself. Hearing the report, he had to go to the Royal Vault, check the inventory, and realize that the beastial CC was indeed missing from the collection. She even brought away the biggest one!
"I will have to take advantage of this... It will be the best scare tactic..." He grunted, coughing up a bit of blood, already thinking about how to turn this to his benefit, at least as much as possible.
The information that Ishillia used a Master-level spell was news that had no chance of being suppressed, so he had to do everything to make it even more colorful and more incredible than it already was. It was going to be the example of why not pull the whisker of a sleeping lion. Yet, he needed an even clearer picture. He sent out a new order, making the flying ships use their Imaginary to record snapshots of the aftermath, bringing back all the information they could as it was impossible for him to leave the palace's confines.
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When the details came to light, Pascal almost fainted, coughing and groaning in pain while blood flowed from between his lips and from his nose, realizing they had not only lost Kathrien but she had brought fifteen highly skilled mages with her into the underworld. The spell was, for all intents and purposes, an overkill. The Empress used the combined strength of fifteen experts and the core of a demonic monster to cast a Master-level spell that would be capable of not only leveling that one simple city but also having enough power to destroy Ishillia itself if aimed at the capital. Not even the royal city's defensive magic could have withstood that!
Sitting on the hard floor of the underground library, he was sweating, breathing heavily. He tried opening his mouth, but only blood came out of it, landing in his lap, staining everything with the foul-smelling liquid. They... They just lost a massive force, something that can't be replenished just like that. Did they still have mages? Of course. But... losing more than a dozen elite mages? It was worse than getting all their flying ships destroyed. It will take decades to recuperate from this, if not centuries. Who knows when similar mages will appear?
"KATHRIIIIIIIINEEE!" He roared, lying on his back, shouting at the ceiling, knowing that it was useless, yet he didn't care at that moment. There was just simply no outlet for his anger and frustration, for the pain gripping his heart, which was almost killing the old Emperor.
It took him multiple days to recover, to be able to think straight and to try to collect his thoughts on what to do. First, he had to choose a new ruler and place them on the throne. Then, he had to announce his return as reassurance that Ishillia still had hidden strengths, showing the world that a multiple hundred-year-old Emperor was still kicking around. It would destroy his plans of remaining the hidden hand behind history's curtains, but it would also further shock every empire around them. They needed it before they learned they had lost so many mages.
Then, he had to make the top-level nobles swear their alliance to the new ruler and let them become embroiled in some weird power struggle, acting as puppets for those who lost the battle for the throne. This was hell. His personal hell...
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It was already spring, the snow was melting away, and the world was shocked at what happened between the borders of Ishillia and the Kingdom of Scorc. The weather barely started warming up when the Ishillian army was already on the move. They circled around the death zone left behind by their cataclysmic spell, invading the headless and armyless Scorc territories, ready to swallow them whole. At the same time, in the South, all the allied kingdoms looked on with fear, trying to send envoys over, offering their surrender.
Further East, in the capital city of the Geth Empire, their current leader, Emperor Kadosa IV, was having an emergency meeting with his most trusted advisors and council members. In this part of the world, they were the only equals of Ishillia, possessing an artifact of the Gods. Their topic since early morning was the war Ishillia found itself embroiled in, as they had been arguing about intervening for a year now. It was the Emperor who firmly pushed back against most of his ministers who advocated joining and attacking the weakened Ishillia. But, right now, the atmosphere was surprisingly chill within the throne room.
"Is the news confirmed?" he asked, leaning to the right in his chair. His middle-aged face showed early creases from the frustration he was feeling, not to mention the few new silver strokes in his jet-black, short hair.
"I am afraid, Your Majesty..." the old advisor, Varga, answered. He stood up while answering and slowly glanced over all the other ministers, many avoiding his gaze. "Your Majesty was right in not interfering. We just confirmed that multiple weeks ago, the Ishillian Empire used a Master-level spell, eliminating the entire army of the Kingdom of Scorc, including their king. They are now already in a campaign, pushing into their territory."
"Was it the spear?" Kadosa asked, silencing everybody before him, prompting Varga to answer with a slight tremble in his voice.
"Our relic did not show any reaction. They did not use it."
"Then it is still salvageable." The Emperor sighed in relief. "Let them conquer Scorc; they will be a tough cookie to swallow. They were always rebellious and annoyed the Ishillians after occupying half their territory a few centuries ago. Conquering the rest? Good luck stabilizing the region for the next thousand years!"
"But-!" They tried to argue, but Kadosa continued, silencing them with a wave of his hand.
"We will interfere! The southern kingdoms will be left alone! We will use the fact that the Kingdom of Scorc initiated the whole thing as an excuse. We will make them into the figureheads, letting Ishillia deal with them, while we will take the others in, placing them under our protection. Go! Send a letter to my sister in the Sar Empire, tell her to convince the Emperor to stand with us, and together, we will warn the Ishillians not to go too far."
None of his ministers argued after his decision was made; they bowed, went to work, and hurried to set everything into motion before the Ishillians had a chance to act.
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"Sovereign!"
"Haah... don't tell me that something else happened, Merlin?" I asked, groaning when he burst into my office, making me tear through my blueprint with my pen.
"Something big! I received a bunch of letters brought here by Elena herself!"
"..." He wasn't joking; I could see them in his hands. If she brought them here herself, they had to be essential, and I couldn't wait for our following exchange. Taking one away and starting to read, I soon stood up, my heart racing. "Merlin, go and call an immediate meeting! I don't care what anyone is doing; drop it and come straight to the palace! I don't care if they are on the toilet or with their wives!"
"Yes!" He yelled, rushing out while I shouted after him.
"Tell your girlfriend to attend it too!"
Even though he knew the situation must be dire, my little remark made him trip and fall because I heard him crash in the corridor, moaning and mumbling while standing back up. Haah... I needed that little chuckle because of what news was in the letter... These were something else.