The world was ending. Ruined husks of destroyed magical constructs rained upon the earth, as people desperately ran for shelter, and escape. Massive behemoth constructs flew through the skies that burned, the world itself moved to escape, as people streamed to the few portals they had to escape their dying home. Corruption had come, and in its wake, it spread destruction and ruin. The dead became the same enemy that they battled, as the once populous people had halved in number in only a few days after the first day had begun, and their capital collapsed in a matter of moments from simply the first wave of attacks. This day, they called Armageddon, as the old realm of Demonkind fell to an indefatigable enemy.
He felt no fear, only acceptance. His region would have escaped soon, and their people would leave a forgotten world to burn, fled to the world of Humans. He felt at peace, the evacuation nearing completion. His family had died long ago, their bodies shredded by devils, having barely escaped their revived bodies, left in twisted forms, which reduced them to things more akin to beasts rather than the people they had once been, his siblings who had gone to the nearby cities disappeared. The number of nightmares he had had of that horrid day, just days after the royal capital had been annihilated, tormented his every waking dream, were uncountable.
Sleep was rare for one of the few remaining conscripted guardsmen. He rubbed his eyes, tired, gazing at the sky filled in smoke, and the falling body of a behemoth, as it let out a mournful call, its body savaged by a swarm of small beings.
“Haerclus!” shouted a voice, a man running over, his once fine suit now tattered and frayed, wearing a broken set of armor across his body, hands sheathed in a pair of armored gloves fitted to his hands perfectly. “Aygidon fell just an hour ago, the last of their runners barely survived a few moments before we had to burn him.”
“Eh?” said Haerclus. “The Elves didn’t come over to support?” He said, a twinge of fear flying through his spine, Aygidon being the nearest of fortresses, meaning the enemy would arrive at his area soon.
“Yeah, those skinny twig bastards didn’t dare move a muscle,” said the man, a mask of flaring anger enveloping his face, clearly angered at the mention of the Elves who had refused to assist in their world’s defense.
“Damn. Why isn’t the Evacuation beginning yet? Devils are gonna be here real soon if we’re going off the old counts of their speed.”
“Abyss, I don’t even know what goes on in the mind of the General, but the nobles are still as horrible as they always were,” he said, as he let out a mirthless laugh.
“Got that right, eh, Johnson?” Haerclus said as he adjusted his dented armor. Johnson looked into the distance, his anger dissipated into worry, as he watched the scorched landscape, as if an unseen enemy were to encroach upon the hellish landscape. “Getting pre-battle jitters? We’ve survived this long, Johnson, we can survive even more. Abyss be in Heaven, what do you say to going through the portal after we get the civilians through?”
They stood and watched the distance together, Haerclus gave the quiet Johnson a pat on the back. A group of other guardsmen walked over, also dressed in similar mismatched armor, and a scout jogged up to meet Haerclus, while his hand waved in the air, and his compatriots walked behind him.
“Hey there, sir, we’re your relief team. General Zheng’s about to announce the opening of the portal, you two better get to Decontamination,” said the scout, a jaunty smile on his face. “I’d bet a little bit of a last bath before the finale would be a great way to go.”
Haerclus walked past, giving the scout a high five as he passed, thanking him as he left, idly flicking off a flake of black coating from his armor, as he walked back where he had come, Johnson following behind him. He thought as he walked, what with the destruction of the world, and the massive structure now floating in the night skies of the world, and the Corruption that had come along with it.
He didn’t understand how the massive ringed construction had gotten there, nor what it was, simply that one night, a flash of light had burst in the skies of the world, waking him and many others. He remembered everything else, the snarling wretches that had run over to his home, soon after the capital had fallen. The night where he had ran for his life, as he escaped the beings that had once been his family, and fled to a sanctuary only by dumb luck; the harsh teacher that war was and constant hide-and-run rounds that his unit had done, while they lost men with every battle; and felt the harsh touch of the wretches upon his flesh. He shuddered at the very memory of the feeling, the soft caress of the strange mists that flowed off their bodies, and the leathery skin that felt as if it was about to burst open into a viscous liquid.
“Alert,” called a gruff voice emanating from the collection of buildings making up the last bastion of the region. “All civilians enter the portal. I repeat, all civilians enter the portal.”
Haerclus looked up, a breath of relief escaping his mouth, as he closed his eyes. He trod forward, walking home, daring not to look back. Johnson strode beside him, the haunted look fading from his face. The closer they got to their destination, the more commotion they heard, as they watched other guardsmen file people dressed in dirtied and ragged clothes to a massive structure, a pair of runic pillars enclosing a watery pane of light, it shimmering and rippling like a pond was to be placed vertically. A group of well-dressed nobility disappeared into the pane first, their bodies having vanished through the vertical pane as if they walked through a door. Haerclus scratched his head and shook away his confusion.
A shout came from behind the two, and a gurgled scream sounds. Haerclus turned around, and looked, as he saw the Corrupted beings appear once more, while their sharp claws made short work of the light armor of their comrades, as blackened mist exited their mouths and their elongated horns crackled with energy that seemed to be refused by the very reality around them. Meaty thuds and the sound of crushed metal heralded the fall of their relief team, as the snarling and slavering mouths of numerous devils tore at the flesh of the newly fallen dead. Mists cover the bodies, as they stood up jerkingly, while metallic objects dropped from the condensed smog, as the same reality-shattering power blanketed the area around the deaths of Haerclus’s comrades.
He swore, as he looked at the wretches turning his way, their dead eyes staring soullessly at him, as they burst into a charge, a lurching lunge sending their twisted bodies at him at an impossible speed.
Haerclus stepped back, as he unhitched a maul from his back, readied for a fighting retreat. Haerclus stepped back as he swung his maul in a crescent arc to catch the wretches in their lunge of a leap, while he shifted his foot to bring more power to his strike, as he stomped a few steps back. He spotted Johnson’s hand readied as if a javelin were emplaced within his straightened hand, a coating of dark power flowed above it, and covered it in a bladed tip.
They ran for their lives from the untiring beasts, as they escaped in the hope that they would be able to reach the line of traps set at the base of the wall. Haerclus turned, his maul readied again, while he swung it in another crescent arc and a follow-up uppercut, striking the devils roaring in their mindless frenzy. A blow to the chests of the devils sounded Johnson’s spear-hand, as it ripped through them in moments, a burst of viscera expanding from the point of his strike.
Haerclus wiped his eyes, as he waved the settling smoke off from his dirtied face, while he slogged to the wall, as his maul swung all the way. His arms burned as he felt his energy as it drained with every swing he sent, the devils stood up despite their damaged bodies, milky eyes gazed with a ruthless glint as they attacked once more, tirelessly pursuing the escaping men.
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
The walls loomed before them, as they watched the gate close in front of them. Archers fired arrows while it clouded the sky from the walls, the rare mage among them sent a burst of magic to strike down the devils. Steel tips rained upon the corrupted as spells ripped away limbs and chunks of flesh -- but the devils still crawled, never tiring in their lust to convert more to their kind. Destructive wisps of energy fled the decimated bodies, as they retreated off to the distance once more, while the shattered bodies decayed to ash in moments.
The gate opened again, while Haerclus heaved his breath with difficulty, as a disgusting smell arose from the combined firepower of an entire mage unit, dealt to a small group of devils. He wrinkled his nose, and walked through the opening door, a pair of well-armored guards waved them through to point in the direction of a group of buildings to the east. They trudge to the buildings, a ragged sign atop them written with the crude word of “Decontamination” on top of it, the letters painted onto boards of broken wood painted bright yellow. They walked inside and were immediately escorted to stalls, their walls covered in complex sigils, and the bottom a platform in glinting light, the last of the gifts from the Elves to have even reached their world.
He stripped, as he left his clothes and armor off to the side to be cleaned separately, as he stepped onto the platform, a shining rain of small droplets of light dripped onto his body, the blackened stains immediately disappearing upon the touch of these droplets, the dirt stuck within his wounds washing away in the shower. The tingling of the shining droplets disappeared soon after he was cleaned, as he donned his clothes; the shower of magical water revitalizing for anyone they touched, and always comfortable.
He walked out, and took his cleaned armor and maul back, walking out of the building, and standing outside to wait for Johnson. He sighed, attacks like this being normal, and the corruption commonly sent its small troops to harass their patrols, caused endless lament among their people, for losing more good soldiers to this tireless enemy. Haerclus turned to the massive portal in the distance, as he watched the line shift slowly but surely, as the citizens vanished one by one through its vertical pool, as a streak of a fireball flew through the sky to an unseen target.
A sound thumped outside of the wall, a storm of dust kicked up in the distance, as crackling energy rippled in the billowing smoke. The blare of sirens sounded throughout the city, as the march of many hundreds of devils heralded the force that would arrive at their walls. Guardsmen rushed to the walls, as the city’s final units of elite soldiers marched their way down the streets. Clashes of blades upon claws, the classic whish that accompanied the spells of magi, along with the distant sound of an explosion as an entire wall collapsed with a swing of a single corrupted titan’s fist.
Haerclus ran, as he trusted Johnson to follow him to the walls, for he knew the breach would be deadly if anything were to enter through the hole in the wall. The sound of crackling and burning wood accompanied him the closer he went to the breach, smoke and the iron tang of blood filling the air. He ran through buildings, rushing by those now burning to the ground, he ran through streets, their surfaces pitted by the constant blasts fired by mages. His hammer held high, he led the charge, while he rushed to the destroyed wall, desperate to at least take out a few before the city fell, or he did.
Sounds growled around the corner and a group of the undead beasts made their appearance by the ruined structure that had once been a watchtower. Haerclus scooted by a collapsed wall, as he quietly readied himself to rush into battle, while he checked his armor just a few times more. He raised his maul, and lunged forward, as he swung his maul into the wall, aimed to collapse the final bits of brick onto the undead, and trap them beneath. He rushed off through the roads, running to the middle of battle yet again, hearing the mumbles and crackling of the rotting raised dead.
He fought, his hammer drenched in blood, crushed meat, and the powdered bones of those he destroyed. His grip slipped on his maul, nearly dropping it, as he keeled over, the claws of one of the devils slicing through his abdomen. He let out a cough of blood, as he wiped his mouth on his left sleeve, and raised his hammer once more, letting out a defiant roar of rage as he ran into battle once more. Haerclus fought for the last of demonkind, the final moments of his race, and for the hopes of all those who now lived on the other side of the portal, he battled for nothing other, while he forgot his self-preservation to save the lives of the civilians still traversing the portal that had defied all laws of space.
The bloodlust of the devils was equally great as his just rage, their untiring strength matching his rage, claws whisking out to slice through his flesh, the head of the maul slamming with immense force into possessed bodies. A pair of horns raised to gore him in the belly, as he countered with his maul crashing into the head of the devil. The clawed arms of two devils whooshing in to capture him in a deathly hug, as he sent the maul in a flat arc to catch the two and send them away.
The head of a devil exploded into chunks of flesh, a hand struck through its head, as it released a wave of force and the hand’s owner nodded in the periphery of his vision. Haerclus’s eyes grew hard, as he noticed his mistake where he had given in to his rage. He let out a breath and returned to methodically beating the devils apart, his weapon sending the devils flying into each other, their reaching claws swatted out of the air by his swinging maul. The mists extended from their bodies once more, and he quickly withdrew, fearing their effects that appeared upon contact, for all those that touched the mists never were the same again.
“First Evacuation stage finished. All troops begin withdrawing into the portal,” said the voice from the few towers still standing. The grumbling calls of the ever-growing number of devils sent shivers down Haerclus’s spine, the creatures still swarmed from the distant silhouettes within the clouds of smoke. They stumbled into view once more and their maws opened, showing their tipped teeth tinged in black residue. The pair stepped back, ready to fight in their retreat. As the civilians had already left, there would be no need for them to stay in their fruitless battle, for the soldiers and the rest of his kind were leaving too, and their brave General, to stay behind and close the portal behind them.
“Better get moving, ‘Clus, or we’ll miss the ride,” said Johnson, as he wiped his viscera-covered hand onto his ragged clothes, as he ran in the direction that they had come.
Haerclus grinned, as he swung his maul onto his back, and sprinted off to the center, following Johnson. The sounds of now-interested mumbling emanated from behind them, as devils spotted them, the faster ones of their kind nearly matching the speed of Haerclus. He cursed, annoyed, as he veered off into an alley, jumping over a barricade, and scaling the walls. He ran over the roofs, seeing the massive structure in the distance, the flat pane of watery light standing in the center of a courtyard now pitted and filled with the scattered bodies of the dead. Mists had begun to encroach upon the portal, its once colorless, silvery water now tinged a deep and sinister reddish-black. The remaining silver disappeared the closer Haerclus got to the portal, as a slimy tentacle wrapped itself over the pillars framing the pane of light.
He looked back, as he searched for Johnson and his eyes widened as he watched his friend battle futilely against the numerous beings that swarmed from the buildings in the distance, many wearing the livery of their former comrades. His hands sent waves of force that expanded from each strike, though there were too many to battle, their grumbling calls and hungering laughs of their faster kind, while they battled this lone warrior. A mist-infused arrow buried itself into Johnson’s shoulder, while a flickering spear hand burst through the body of another speeding devil.
“Go! Get through the portal, Haerclus! We need at least one of the soldiers in the Human World, the fools would all die if there weren’t any!” shouted Johnson, his eyes wild, as his hand speared into another devil’s head, and another arrow sunk into his leg.
Haerclus raised his maul, as he went into battle to fight with his comrade, as he refused to allow his sworn friend die in this battle, a growl of anger escaped his throat, as he charged to fight by Johnson’s side, simply not wishing to allow the final person of his former unit to fall to the beings left before them. He swung, bashing away the bodies of the dead, in his frenzy for his last of friends, fearing nothing, the beings being pounded to crushed lumps of flesh and meat and his maul sung a horrid dirge as it slammed into the fallen over and over.
Haerclus tried as he fought desperately, though the horde never ceased its chaotic march, as he spotted more as they emerged from the horizon, the sound of screams and battle subsided to that of grumbled calls and twisted laughs. The distant sounds of a blade as it sang its deadly song, presented the presence of their General, though he was too far for them to even attempt to assist. The creatures came ever closer, and he saw no other way for them to survive the fight. He swallowed his pride, a lump in his throat uncomfortably shifted into his stomach. Haerclus dragged Johnson away, pulling the man to the portal, tiredly pulling him across the ground, marching his way to the structure now covered in black sludge. His feet stung, as the darkness covered his limbs, as he marched his path to the portal, the pain of his failing body searing his mind, as he looked down at Johnson’s battered body.
Johnson coughed a gout of blood, his flesh rotted already, the black now enveloped his abdomen in foul-smelling, necrotic, flesh, as it was pulsed with striations of the sinister bloodred substance. He let out another hacking cough, as he wheezed in the pain suffused by the corruptive sludge, as blackened mists enclose on them.
“Please, friend Haerclus,” said Johnson, his voice a rasped whisper. “Put me out of this misery, the pain...It’s far too much to bear.”
Haerclus’s eyes were faded, as he squinted at the portal before them. He refused to leave Johnson behind, walking to the reddened pane of watery light, sludge-formed tentacles still twisted around its rune-covered poles. He arrived at the front of the portal, and stared at its formerly magnificent form, while it grew thorns that protruded from its infernal construction. Johnson coughed once more, as the black reached his organs.
“I won’t let you die like that if it's the last thing I’m going to do,” said Haerclus, as he threw his dying friend through the portal, as he looked back once more, at the desolate courtyard. Creatures ran across the expanse, as larger, and more menacing undead stomped their way to the portal, the ground shook violently with every last one of their steps, and dust filled the air from the crushed stones.
“I’ll be back,” Haerclus said as he turned around, his final words upon this world an oath to return, and cleanse his old home of the corruption.
He watched blankly as the creatures closed in. He took one last look at the scene of death behind him, and walked through the pane of light, as he traversed the portal, and left his dying home behind.