Chapter 90: The Fall of the Great Elven Forest
As if sensing Kraft's scrutiny, the "Sky-Winged" army quickened its pace, but the troops below, lost in their joy, noticed nothing. Kraft's roar was a clap of thunder, but it only caught the attention of a few. Most were still celebrating. The Sky-Winged are back! There is hope! Victory is at hand!
Kraft drew his elven longsword and pointed it at the sky. "They're impostors! They're demons! Defensive positions, now!"
His shout froze the soldiers nearest to him, their joyous expressions turning to ones of disbelief. But most of the army ignored his warning, some even glaring at him. Only a few of the allied mages, sensing something was wrong, began to discreetly cast defensive spells. Other powerful mages tried to use their own scrying spells, but like Kraft, they found nothing, and even suffered a slight backlash from the "Sky-Winged" army's own anti-scrying magic.
"Captain Kraft, are you mad? That's the Sky-Winged!" an elven warrior said with a frown.
"No! Trust me!" Kraft's eyes were bloodshot. He had seen it. The "Sky-Winged" army, upon entering the airspace above the battlefield, had instantly changed formation. A few dozen from the core had broken off and ascended above the main army, and the others had followed suit, forming a kind of pyramid. And then, their mana had begun to converge, forming a massive, terrifying halo of energy.
No!
Kraft no longer tried to convince them. He bolted for the command platform. He had to get to the Dwarven King and the Elven King. They possessed magical items that could deploy a grand barrier. Only the most powerful of defensive spells could possibly withstand the coming attack.
But it was too late.
Just as he had taken a few steps, the false angels in the sky finished gathering their power. A terrifying, indescribable brilliance, a light that seemed to swallow all others, erupted from the halo.
It was not the white, holy light of the Sky-Winged.
At its core, it was a pure, destructive white, but its edges were a dark tide of inky blackness. The two opposing forces had been violently merged, and the resulting energy radiated an aura of pure terror.
Even the mages with a keener sense for magic could now feel it, the distinct dark and chaotic aura of the demons. The energy coalesced into a massive, pure beam and aimed it straight at the allied army.
All sound seemed to be instantly snuffed out by an invisible hand.
The looks of elation on the soldiers' faces were still frozen in place as they stared, dumbfounded, at the apocalyptic scene unfolding before them.
The smile on the Dwarven King's face froze, then turned to a look of utter confusion. The Elven King's knuckles turned white, the color drained from his handsome face, his golden eyes wide with horror.
"A... a Divine Strike!?" a royal guard beside the Dwarven King screamed. "They're casting a Divine Strike! But where are they aiming!?"
"It doesn't matter who the target is! Raise the barrier, now!" the Elven King commanded. The Sky-Winged have betrayed us, he thought, betrayed an oath sworn in the name of the Goddess.
A powerful magical barrier rose over the allied army, the most ancient and powerful of all elven defensive spells. It was said that not even a god could easily break it.
Seeing the barrier rise, the leaders of the false Sky-Winged looked a little disappointed. They had missed their best chance. It seemed that even in disguise, they could not launch a Divine Strike on their enemies' heads without them putting up a fight.
In that case, it was time for plan B.
The twisted pillar of light, a pillar of pure, unrestrained destruction, did not, as everyone had hoped, aim for the endless horde of magical beasts on the front lines.
As a million eyes, filled first with shock, and then with despair, watched, the pillar slowly, with an irresistible pressure, changed direction.
It locked on to the Great Elven Forest.
It locked on to the sacred forest that had birthed countless elves, their final resting place, their ancestral home.
Time seemed to stretch, to freeze.
The Elven King watched, all grace gone from his face, replaced by a look of utter, disbelieving despair.
"NO!!!"
Kraft had just reached the foot of the platform when he saw it. He knew instantly what the demons were planning to do. But there was nothing he could do. His voice was drowned out by the roar of the pillar's activation.
VMMMMMM—
The pillar of light descended upon the center of the forest. There was no earth-shattering explosion, not even a sound. The beam of light had swallowed it all.
The allied army was also silent. The entire battlefield was suddenly plunged into a dead quiet. A horrifying, annihilating sound, a sound of destruction that could not be heard, echoed in the minds of everyone.
All they could see was a pure, destructive, stark white light.
From the point of impact, the light of destruction spread out in all directions, silent and swift. In its path, everything—the ancient, ten-thousand-year-old trees, the streams filled with an endless life-force, the very vitality of the air itself—everything was annihilated, returned to nothing.
It was the color of pure, unadulterated destruction.
Even the elves who had witnessed the Sky-Winged's Divine Strike were completely stunned. The Sky-Winged's attack was a purification, a holy power. But this... this was annihilation, a terrifying power that could destroy not only all life, but the very land itself.
It was beyond their comprehension.
The Great Elven Forest, not burned, not turned to ash, but completely, and utterly, erased from existence.
In just a few moments, the forest had become a deep, bottomless crater.
A dead silence fell over the allied army.
Weapons slipped from limp hands, clattering to the ground, unheard, unnoticed. The Dwarven King stumbled back, his lips trembling, unable to believe what he had just seen. The Elven King fell to his knees, his crown tumbling from his head. His golden eyes stared blankly at the great, empty void that had once been the forest, his body trembling, his mouth open but no words coming out.
It's over.
The Great Elven Forest, the very heart of the elven race, is gone.
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