They walk as conquerors to be at the forefront of their world’s newest army. Legions upon legions march like an encroaching wave of arms, armor, and spells of deadly might..
The Elders and Guardians, greatest of the prior generation of killers, march at the fore. These few million are the ones left behind to shepherd the next in line.
The old march stoically. The young marvel. Around them their kith and kin cheer and shout. Yet it is not a celebration of fellows. It is one of blood to come.
“Glory to the Conquering!”
The air quakes as the chants come in waves of frenzy. Voices clash in the air. Violence stirs in the crowd. Blood already stains many among the sea of warriors. Theirs was a race of devourers and the next Conquest was upon them.
“Glory to the Conquering!”
The chant repeats endlessly as the legions march through the Triumphant. Hordes of their people crowd along the road of bones and valor. They clamor like baying hounds as roses and coins and mana cores are thrown about as well tidings. The more brazen and young climb the metal pillars that line the ground, each detailing deeds of the warriors who bled and made bleed their foes on this once thriving world.
The celebrations will continue for days. First though was the Reaping.
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It takes nearly half a turn of the sun before they reach the end of the procession. It is there, sunk deep into the remains of a once lavish city and towering mountain range do they reach the Conqueror's Hall.
A pyramid, carved in foreign runes that glow, floats off the ground and stretches past the sky’s reach. There the Council of Conquerors speak.
“On this hollowed day, the Eighteenth Sol of 884 R.C. do we celebrate the coming triumph of Conquest.”
Cheers reach heavens and move the ground as the frenzy ensues. Even through the noise the hypnotic voice of the Council prevails.
“One hundred and three Sols after the 42nd Conquering a new Realm has been identified and selected. In this undeveloped and unintegrated Realm with a singular world of life our race shall thrive.”
“This Realm shall be the fodder for our advancement and the start of our youngest’s reign into the MultiVerse. From sacrifice-”
“-TO ASCENSION!”
The unholy chant echoes past the world. It is joined by the ethereal power of Gods.
The Reaping has begun.
From on high the Council of Conqueror’s release their strength. Twelve lights blind the heavens, each billowing out with the strength to eclipse a Sun. They are joined by the lights of power of billions of their kin.
Then the Conqueror’s Hall rumbles as it forces the world to bend and the Aether Core at the core of the planet is drained and fed to the numerous Halls that savage the world they claimed. It was only the beginning of the Reaping which would power the rifts that would allow their young to make landfall on the selected planet.
Theirs was a race of devourers and the next Conquest was upon them.