Central Continent, Remnant of the Fallen Heaven, Elven Outpost.
The tall and hooded elf walked at a nonchalant pace, his mercury-coloured eyes strained forward as a few creatures blurred ahead. Some dashed around the battered street, while others taking cover by the few buildings remaining; only to all freeze as they stared at the few figures hiding with them as well as humans.
"Wha–" one of them had barely taken a stance against the humans before he and everyone within the remains of the city block were engulfed by a white, blazing inferno.
Boom!
Burning wreckage seemingly flew in all directions as an elf with a red hair, perched atop a building overlooking the scene, opened his closed fist.
"Haha, falling for such trap," he watched with gusto as the flaming wreckage remaining from his doing – a delayed explosion he had secretly placed on one human, then subtly guided another pack of elves to them. His joyous mood came to a pause though, blinking in bewilderment as he watched a tall elf continue to walk through the still burning surroundings. Strangely, his current path was completely unscathed by the explosion.
Strange…the red-haired observed his fellow elf who didn't seem to belong to any faction. I don't recall a 'Victorious' being around here. Before he could speak out to the stranger, his senses were prickled but it was too late.
A veritable lightning storm descended from the sky, washing away not only the entire building he stood on, but also blanketing the area around this structure. A true storm had descended as the ground trembled before splitting apart to swallow its remains. But in spite all this, the red-haired elf burst through the carnage with blinding speed, a blood-red beam of light bathing his figure.
"Forcing me to rely on Lord Kratos's protection!" His words came out as a roar, reinforcing his momentum and power, the blazing spear forming in his grasp was reinforced as a result. However, his entire assault stopped as he froze mid-air. In the next moment, a deep air of decay and death powered through, the air before this red-haired elf shaping into a mystical door framed by skeletons, bleeding eyes and tormented souls.
The terror didn't fully settle in his bones as pale arms spread out of this Door, securing him in their grasp as he was drawn into the Underworld.
The casual elf didn't even see the scene, but his senses picked up the door fading away as a number of undead creatures not far away exploded, leaving nothing behind. Instead, he stopped before another group of elves, this time, far more imposing and distinct. All dressed in different styles – some in bones cleared fashioned from avian creatures, others in simple robes permanently drenched in blood, and a few in more restrained attires. They all sat in a circle, surrounding a colossal pot made from a gigantic skull only possessing a single prominent hole for its eye.
"Quit being stingy and give me more of that succulent delicacy!" One with bright crimson hair, standing within the front circle closest to the "pot" shouted. As he did, he continued manipulating the flames underneath the pot of bone.
"And for the third time in the span of minutes, a fertility Giant's liver is a rare commodity," the elf closest to the cooking pot, a blue-haired, answered in a surprisingly composed manner. As he did, a few people approached with shaky steps, carrying a large tray overhead. The elves didn't seem to mind as the people – humans – moved in and stopped a few steps before the pot, though a few didn't.
Splurt!
The tray partly spilled over its contents, causing some meaty parts and eyeballs to splash into the pot's contents. Silence took over, but was almost immediately taken over by a loud bang and a few bodies getting tossed away.
"Dammit!" the elf cook, his arm poised to attack was now framed by electric currents and blood. "I Said, throw in the ingredients one by one, not all at once!" He sharply turned to the few humans who stared in shock at him. "Do none of you understand even basic Elvish?"
It was only then that the men being addressed reacted. Some turning to glance in horror at the bloody remains of their mangled comrades that were waved aside by the elf, while two others simply looked with blank faces at the tray now being carried by the wind overhead.
"This is why humans deserve nothing!"
"Hey, don't say that. I hear they've learned to to stand up for themselves this past decade."
"Really? Why aren't these bloody corpses getting up then?"
Chortle rippled through the elven gathering, the hooded figure taking in everything. He walked through the crowd, moving from the outer circle which were more numerous and filled with those fighting over food, to the inner circle before the food itself. His movement caught the attention of a few, one trying to grab his shoulder, only to do that to another elf who turned around and broke his nose.
The laughter of the more imposing elves died as they all peered at the newcomer. Immediately, both possessing striking blue hair—the cook and the tallest and bulkiest of the group – reacted at once. The formed a chair made out of water and wind, while the other stirred the fluids making up the food. The others, with shades of red and red hair, tacitly remained silent as they watched the hooded figure get served as he took a seat. The bulky elf excuses himself with a bow, his form vanishing the next moment, a sound formed long after his departure.
As this occurred, the elf pushed back his hood, exposing his silver hair as accepted the bowl clearly formed from a skull.
"A triad of delicacies, my lord. Its savoured from the anatomical rigidity of Phoenixes, the hard flesh but chewy flesh of those mindless brutes, the lump pouch of Human and their blood as broth. All coming together in the juvenile skull of a brute."
The silver-haired accepted with a nod, using his hand to munch in the eyeball. As he ate, one seated on an iron chair gestured at the previously boisterous red-haired elf.
"So, Kratos," his words drew his attention and that of most who sensed the change in mood. "Was just transferred here from the Eastern Land; I'd enjoy a review of the situation."
The elf named Kratos acknowledged, drinking wine from his metallic goblet. "The Central grounds have been constant for the last few years. Since that Preposterous Kingdom of Order and Disorder, or Chaos in Heaven as its envoys called it fell, every vulture pounced." He gulped his drink, crumbling the metal into a ball, then aimed it forward, the others had already moved aside as he flicked it. The path of destruction the ball created didn't phase him as he continued. "Those smelly kind of phoenixes are especially common here – but the Cyclopes race are also here. Together with the remnants of the Fallen Heaven, they form this Trinary System common in these lands."
"And this place is the eye of the storm?"
"Heh, quite the apt description." Another beside Kratos replied, bitting through a sizzling hot thigh meat. "I don't how they called its capital, but this outpost is close to it."
"So all the real conflict converges here?"
They all nodded, causing one to shake his head. "Why the Central lands anyway? I feel like we were doing progress against the Giants."
"Because of its strategic position," the cook chimed, his focus on the food as he moved his finger at the levitating tray, causing it to tilt and slowly pour its contents into the pot. "Right between the Northern and Southern lands. The Phoenixes have been focusing more on the real world specifically by invading the latter. Their outposts in the Fallen Heaven will simply act as a springboard to better invade and expand. As for the north…"
His gaze moved the humans still around, those with numb and horrified expressions, all kneeling as they quietly picked up the mangled remains of their brethren.
"Human cults have been sprouting up north. Not even the fleeting kind like before."
This drew the men's attention, but they forced themselves to ignore, focusing on their task. On the other hand, a female elf rubbed her chin soaked with wine. "Bah, what is this Draconic propaganda? What next? The one who pulverised the God of Calamity and "His" army were humans, and not the King?" After all, it was well known among the Elves that this particular Subsidiary God often skirted around rules. Getting destroyed by the Tyrant as a result made more sense.
She had began to laugh then ceased. The entire encirclement, maybe even the carnage beyond it stilled. None, not even the flames heating the pot dared to move as the silver-haired elf regarded his plate. The food felt quite bland for his taste.
The humans collapsed to the ground first, then those in the outer circles. A domino spreading inwards as the air was hit by an intense, but invisible wave that affected the mind. Just as the inner ring steeled their godhood to try and withstand this effect, it vanished just as fast as it came.
The bulky elf from before appeared again, this time stirring nothing as he prostrated before the silver-haired.
"I've returned with the Sacred Relic, my Lord," he pushed forward the bronze scale in his hands. The object itself seemed to stir, but then stilled as an illusory serpentine figure intertwined it, closing in on itself as it bit its tail before fading. The Silver-haired watched the action and reaction repeat itself as he nodded, and took hold of the scale. As he did, the elves around him all held their breaths as they watched in silence.
Balance… Faint lines drew out from the scale, all stretching in different cardinal directions, far beyond the reaches of the outpost. The four quadrants formed by the lines shined, each depicting blurry scenes.
He settled his mercury-coloured eyes on the small ball of light right above the scale, from which the four lines drew from. In it, the faint outline of a Giant Serpent could be seen.
That Tail devouring Serpent is finally showing cracks. He turned to the left quadrant which more prominently depicted a mummy, its body wrapped in imposing chains that pierced through it. The right was dominated by a Phoenix rapidly blurring through multiple doors – doors which sought to shape through its quadrant, with the northern sector glowing with thunder that approached the universal speed limit. Its waves were beginning to rip through the clear divide between the sectors. Finally, he was reflected in the southern quadrant, his eyes lighting up with an ethereal silver snake. Both snakes joined by biting their own tails, then faded.
To think I'll attract so many… He didn't even finish his thought as the skies blurred. An Incarnation of Light illuminated them all.
…
"Humph, and here you said we'll be having some fun."
High in the sky, Medici spoke out, "His" arms folded but "His" attention on the horizon. Beside "Him" Sasrir stood, illusory brass eyes following his hand writing on a book.
"Don't be so quick to judge," "He" said, as Medici examined the army blanketing the horizon. No, every individual "He" sensed were of exaggerated height. But that paled before the two Giants at the vanguard.
They are quite friendly though. Medici's gaze shifted to Leodero and Acuses floating below "Them." The former kept looking in interest at "His" forearms marked by mysterious and pulsing tattoos. Clearly, only the White Angel, still carrying "His" cross and looking battered, truly assessed the army approaching them.
"Usually," Sasrir stated, "His" voice carrying across the field to draw the attention of the two prominent Giants – one shining with the Dusk over the morning, and another bringing with "Her" a primeval forest.
"A Dessert follows the main meal." "He" closed "His" book, the shadows and brass eyes around "Him" receding. "He" glanced at the skies. "But it seems, the the underlying Order is being processed."
The very next instant, a brilliant light engulfed the land