If Zazang Ek could have chosen a different method to begin his plan, he would have. But time was precious, and eliminating the academic witch Dietlinde was crucial for the next phase.
Everything was part of the plan.
Inside the room, Zazang Ek revealed his true form—a Chaos Champion over 2.6 meters tall, with multiple sharp horns sprouting from his head. His body was covered in dark blue armor, engraved with golden threads, warped and twisted by Tzeentch's blessings. His face was distorted beyond recognition, a manifestation of the fickle and ever-changing powers he had received. In one hand, he wielded Tzeentch's Twisted Staff, and in another, the Poisoned Sword of the Raven God. A third hand held a scroll inscribed with human skin and written in the blood of Tzeentch's ever-changing essence. In his fourth hand, he gripped a feathered quill, soaked in fresh human blood.
"Any place that dares resist the will of the Raven God shall be granted true civilization and submission. The Changer of Ways grants us power and knowledge, and we repay Him with loyalty. His gifts will spread across the world. So long as our enemies draw breath, our great warlord shall hunt them down and deliver the visit of death from the Changer," Zazang Ek's voice twisted like a whistling wind, eerie and distorted. Any mortal with a weak mind would be driven mad or immediately become a loyal follower of Tzeentch upon hearing his words.
Zazang Ek began chanting an incantation, summoning one of Tzeentch's demons—a Changeling.
Among Tzeentch's demons, the Changeling was unique. The Great Deceiver (Tzeentch) bestowed upon this pet a remarkable gift—the ability to perfectly mimic other beings. The Changeling changed its form so frequently that it had long forgotten its original appearance. Only Tzeentch knew its true form, and He alone kept this secret to maintain control over the Changeling.
From the outside, the Changeling appeared as a small demon cloaked in blue robes, lacking any distinguishable features, merely a mass of pure chaotic energy. After thoroughly scanning Dietlinde's corpse, within minutes, the Changeling had transformed into an exact replica of the academic witch, mimicking even her mannerisms and subtle gestures with unnerving precision.
A burst of multicolored flames from Tzeentch flashed across the room, and Dietlinde's body vanished, leaving the Changeling in her place, now perfectly disguised. Zazang Ek nodded in satisfaction.
The first step of the plan was complete.
A few minutes later, the "academic witch" walked out of the room, calling to her apprentices. "Is anyone there? Check my schedule for me."
"Yes, Mistress," one of the apprentices hurried in, bowing respectfully. "Mistress, this evening you are scheduled to attend the theater with Lady Aurora, Lady Teresa, Lady Mezz, and Lady Sylva."
"Good," Dietlinde (the Changeling) nodded. "Prepare everything for me. Also, how are the potions progressing?"
"Everything is on track, Mistress."
"Excellent. Notify me when it's time." Dietlinde gave an eerie smile, holding a small bag.
From within the bag, a faint green glow emanated, accompanied by the sound of clinking glass.
Time to add a little something extra for these witches. Without Dietlinde, today would mark the end of Garon!
With the second phase initiated, Zazang Ek and the Changeling split up. Zazang Ek, once again disguised as Kruger, confidently strolled into the theater. The venue was a three-story building, still in preparation for the evening's performance. When he arrived, the staff greeted him with enthusiasm. "Master Kruger! Welcome, so glad to have you here! How can we assist you?"
"Lady Dietlinde sent me to check on the rehearsals and offer some guidance on the costumes," Zazang Ek spoke with a strange charisma, his words subtly laced with magic, compelling trust. The theater staff were well aware that Kruger was one of Dietlinde's favored guests, so none of them questioned his presence. Instead, the director himself warmly greeted him, "Master Kruger, I heard Lady Dietlinde commissioned you to design a new outfit for her?"
"Indeed," Zazang Ek responded with practiced charm, maintaining the haughty air of an artist while exuding youthful energy. "Dietlinde had high demands, but I managed to craft something perfect for her. She got exactly what she wanted, and so did I."
As expected of Tzeentch's chosen champion, Zazang Ek could blend into any role seamlessly. He deftly produced a small bottle of vodka, handing it to the director, and expertly rolled a cigarette as if he were a seasoned connoisseur of the finer vices.
The director, equally charmed, couldn't help but share a few friendly jests with Kruger. "Heh, Master Kruger, Lady Dietlinde is quite the captivating woman, isn't she?" The director winked. "And, she's still single!"
"Single, yes—that just means you're always free to pursue others, doesn't it? I do appreciate the freedom of being single," Zazang Ek said with a meaningful smirk. "But being single is not the goal."
"Of course! If you find the right target, you must strike while the iron is hot! Let's be honest, we all know you're one of Lady Dietlinde's favored guests," the director teased further, lowering his voice. "Lady Dietlinde is not only a Garon council member, but also quite wealthy. She's beautiful, intelligent, and a rare academic witch. Her alchemy skills are unmatched in the council. If you play your cards right, you could be swimming in her riches, Kruger."
Zazang Ek chuckled. "Ah, not keen to work hard anymore, are we?"
The director laughed along. "Exactly! I'd love to be noticed by a wealthy woman and skip twenty years of hard work. Unfortunately, I'm married, and no rich lady is interested in me. But you, Master Kruger, you're handsome and talented!"
"That's why I sought out this fine lady first," Zazang Ek shrugged. "But sadly, she didn't quite take to me—in more ways than one."
"True enough. These Garon witches are all the same. Have you heard of King Ryan Macador? They say several Garon witches are serving as his courtiers now! These witches, they've all got their heads in the clouds, dreaming of making it big," the director sighed before being interrupted by one of his crew, who was visibly agitated. "Boss, you've got to see this!"
"What now?" the director asked, turning around.
"Look at the chandelier above the stage. I swear, it's the worst piece of junk I've ever seen. The design is so flawed that I'm surprised it hasn't collapsed yet! If it ever does, it could crush the entire cast!"
"Yeah, yeah, we all know the chandelier isn't perfect. But if everything that could go wrong actually went wrong, we'd be out of business. Relax. Let's just focus on putting on a good show, get paid, and move on. After that, it's not our problem." The director waved it off, still annoyed about having his conversation cut short. "What do you think, Master Kruger?"
"The universe is always in flux. Change is its essence. We can feel a thousand changes, marvel at endless mysteries, and fall in love with infinite possibilities. There are nine ways this could go, and each way could branch into nine more," Zazang Ek cryptically replied. "Let's proceed. Oh, by the way, when is Master Ernst scheduled to give his speech?"
"After the third act, following the poetry recital," the director answered.
"Perfect," Zazang Ek said, then turned and left.
"The show's about to begin."
An hour later, the theater performance commenced. Several Garon witches, including Aurora and Teresa, were in the audience, ready to enjoy the show.
But something seemed off—Dietlinde was nowhere to be seen.
Sitting next to her mother, Teresa whispered, "This is odd, Mother. Dietlinde was supposed to join us for the show, but the performance has already started, and she hasn't arrived."
"Perhaps she's been delayed by something?" Aurora didn't seem too concerned. "Dietlinde is an academic witch and an alchemy master, my dear. It's not the first time she's rushed off to her workshop because of a sudden burst of inspiration."
Teresa nodded but couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
After dinner, she had noticed a subtle weakening in her ability to sense the Winds of Magic.
The first two plays, although somewhat outdated, concluded without incident. Then, it was time for the third act—a poetry recital. A bard took the stage and began reciting a well-known poem about King Ryan Macador and Queen Sulia, a love story titled "The Cookie and the Fleur-de-Lis."
Aurora watched the performance with great interest, her cheeks flushed slightly as she daydreamed. Meanwhile, Teresa sat in silence, feeling a mix of emotions, her heart heavy with both admiration and envy.
After the poetry recital, the Witch Hunter Grandmaster, Ernst, took the stage. Though he detested these public appearances, Kalayrona loved to parade him around, and his battle stories never failed to excite the witches.
But this time, Ernst had barely stepped onto the stage when a strange, twisting
sound echoed from above.
"?" All eyes in the theater turned toward the ceiling, just as the massive chandelier, weighing several tons, broke free and plummeted toward the stage.
Dooooom!
Ernst instinctively raised his arms to block the falling chandelier. The full weight of the massive structure bore down on him, and though he managed to catch it, his bones cracked audibly. Though his life was nearing its end, the aged Grandmaster summoned all his remaining strength, his muscles tearing and his knees buckling, to prevent the chandelier from crushing the stage.
He could have easily dodged the chandelier, but he knew he couldn't—if he moved, the witches in the theater would be doomed. "You... all of you! Get out of here!" he shouted.
"What?" The hundred or so witches and apprentices in the theater were still in shock, struggling to comprehend what had just happened.
The next second, the chandelier exploded.
Boooooom!
The chandelier had been filled with an enormous amount of Tzeentch's chaotic energy, and now, it erupted in a blinding explosion. The entire theater was consumed by multicolored flames. Witches screamed in agony as the flames enveloped them, turning many of them to ash or grotesquely twisting their bodies into abominations.
The shockwave and flames tore through the hall.
Ernst, caught at the epicenter of the blast, was the most grievously injured. Half of his face was charred beyond recognition, and half of his body melted into a twisted, blackened mass. The once-mighty Grandmaster collapsed, buried under the rubble and flames.
"Ice Shield!" Teresa tried to cast a protective spell, but to her horror, she could barely sense the Winds of Magic. What should have taken her a fraction of a second to cast was taking her far too long.
"Ice Shield!" Fortunately, Aurora's spellcasting was much faster. A shield of ice formed, protecting the witches from the onslaught of multicolored flames. Without panicking, Aurora immediately commanded, "Everyone, evacuate the theater! Now!"
"But... what about Master Ernst?"
"We can't worry about that now!" Aurora pulled Teresa along. "The flames are still burning! They're melting through my shield!"
The witches hurriedly fled the theater under Aurora's orders. Luckily, the doors were wide enough to prevent a stampede.
But as they exited the theater, a horrifying sight awaited them.
The once-cloudy sky had turned a swirling mix of multicolored hues, the clouds twisting into chaotic shapes. Across the Skydome Fortress, Tzeentch's changeling demons, fire demons, and Pink Horrors unleashed their chaotic magic, attacking everything in sight.
The entire Skydome Fortress was bathed in a crimson and cerulean glow—the manifestation of chaotic magic descending upon the mortal realm.
Multicolored flames burned everywhere, consuming buildings. Garon Council and the Skydome Fortress were being engulfed by magical fire.
Before Aurora and the other witches, Zazang Ek, Tzeentch's Chosen Champion, appeared in the sky, now in his true form. Behind him spread a pair of dark blue raven wings, shimmering with iridescent feathers. "Praise be to the Raven God!"
And behind him, two portals opened, releasing troops clad in azure chaos armor and Tzeentchian sorcerers in gold and blue robes, riding upon flying discs of Tzeentch.
This was Zazang Ek's elite Tzeentchian legion, which he called the "Raven Guard."
"Who are you?" Aurora immediately raised her staff, ready for battle, signaling everyone to prepare to fight.
"Welcome. You're all very welcome," Zazang Ek smiled as he descended from the sky. Everywhere he stepped, strange flowers and warped plants sprang from the ground. Corpses rose from the dead, transformed into mindless magical puppets.
"Welcome to witness the destruction of Garon!"
_________________________
[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! $5 for all!!]
[w w w . p a t r e o n .com / INNIT]
[+50 PowerStones = +1 Chapter] [+5 Reviews = +1 Chapter]