Blood ran through the streets. Blood of innocents, blood of children, blood of a strange color that took her a moment to recognize.
Jalida's figure was a silent spectator to the death spread everywhere; after all, she was no stranger to this kind of spectacle.
How much death had she herself brought into the world in previous centuries.
And how much death had her own words caused.
As she floated in the air above the city of Tesara, she wondered if this was how the ancient gods felt when imposing their will upon mortals.
"Who do you think will win?" asked Stata's curious voice as she looked into the distance.
"My girls are skilled," Jalida commented indifferently, "but the cult doesn't have the renown of the Elektrum Hunters."
"But that can play both for and against them," Stata replied, indifferent to who would win.
After all, as existences above the rank of Mortal Lord, even though they could not oppose the Hegemony, they could hide from it and ignore its orders. And the same applied to Jalida. Both only saw this competition as a friendly game.
Even though death at the hands of the Quicksilvers loomed over the city, to their eyes—which were on the path to transcendence—the hundreds of perishing mortals were nothing more than a spectacle.
They were only mortals, slaves in the eternal machinery of blood and flesh that was the mortal realm and Samsara itself. Their life and death were insignificant, like that of most living beings.
But then she remembered something.
The instincts and premonitions of an existence like Jalida, or even Stata, were extremely acute, especially for Jalida, whose mind was receiving signals and visions from a myriad of places and moments simultaneously. And that strangely made her recall an episode of ancient history, a memory buried for decades.
Inoc, one of the last leaders of the Justinian pantheon—the predecessor of the Lemurian pantheon—had dominated part of the Southern Continent through fear and power. In his zeal for control, he had looked with disdain upon the other races, but he also feared his own family.
He had usurped the power of his older sister, Nika, exiling her and subsequently raping his own sister to have offspring.
His three children: Delus, Lemur, and Lamar.
Why had he fallen into that situation? Jalida thought at first. He had been an excellent warrior in the service of previous kings, and even of his sister. But old age and time had made him change. Glory was no longer in honorable and just acts like before, but in absolute domination. The ancient gods did not know death as we do; they could achieve apotheosis.
Then, why did the corruption of acts in life bring about that? Because they wanted to leave behind a legend. A legend of fear and blood, a legend of a tyrant that would crush the memory of the warrior he had been.
It was difficult for Jalida to reflect on that, but she felt her own destiny depended on that line of thought. Or perhaps it was already too late for her.
"What are you thinking, Jalida? You seem worried. Does the great seer actually fear something?" Stata asked in a mocking tone.
But before she could answer, the sky did.
"Of course she fears something, like all the self-proclaimed new gods of this world," a voice answered from above.
Clouds covered the night sky and suddenly began to darken even more. Wind, thunder, and rain began to surge in the air, while Jalida and Stata's expressions remained indifferent.
"We were waiting for you," Jalida said indifferently. Her gaze fell upon the air with a cold and detached tone.
"You took too long, brat," Stata grunted as she crossed her arms with an arrogant expression. "I thought you were going to let all your followers die."
The figure that emerged was covered in lightning, as if he were the very incarnation of the storm, presenting himself before them dressed in an armor of clouds and a crown of fire.
His face was indistinguishable, but three pupils shone sinisterly in his gaze, sending golden flashes in their direction.
"Are you the one they call Pandemonium?" Jalida asked curiously, more than impressed by her opponent's aura. She could feel he was not a mortal, but his power was not his own; he was simply stealing an authority that did not belong to him.
That caused her worries to evaporate. Borrowed power, after all, was bland to existences of their level.
And then she felt a shift in the air. The void trembled when four glowing objects seemed to shine at the other end of the city, kilometers away. Stunned, Jalida tried to extend her senses, but was blocked; and to her horror, it seemed Stata was too.
Her opponent's figure shone as his number of arms increased to six. Three of them wielded three spears that emitted an unparalleled oppression.
"You..." Stata said, trembling as she stared in horror at the objects in the man's hands. "You fool, do you even know that what you hold in your hands is the Hegemony's greatest taboo? Do you dare to possess a Ce...?"
Her words could not be finished.
The battle had begun.
The combat was no longer taking place in the mortal realm; instead, they had entered the Void. In an instant, a kaleidoscopic world surrounded them, and the first to act was Jalida.
Jalida did not move; instead, she spoke. Her words became runes, elements, weapons, and concepts that shattered and made the air tremble. Into a smoke dragon hundreds of meters long, into a star on the verge of exploding, into a burning sky of fire.
And Stata did the same: golden flames covered her presence, giving her a sacred appearance. In an instant, she wielded the fire as if they were furious waves in a golden ocean.
And their opponent responded by moving his three spears.
"Spear of Thunder Invocation," the man murmured indifferently, scattering the darkness brought by the smoke dragon.
"Spear of Wind Invocation," he continued, disintegrating the light and shadow constructs Jalida had created, and extinguishing her flames and explosions.
"Spear of Rain Invocation."
Rain began to cover the Void. A warm, light purple rain; each drop was a weapon, each drop was a sword, each drop was a fraction of bloodlust, erected in a sea of crimson clouds.
Literally, a rain of swords that quickly overwhelmed Stata.
The Void trembled as Heraclio's crimson figure broke through the dimension. He was an existence that could not compare to a Spiritual Lord like Jalida, or even Stata Mater, but he could still enter the Void and cause a slight distraction, which was more than enough for someone like Jalida.
"Eye of Ridiculus," Jalida grunted in a whisper.
Suddenly, her eyes shone and space seemed to freeze. All at once, the three invoked spears retreated and disappeared, leaving only the cloudy figure of her adversary as time seemed to rewind to the instant before he had invoked the three Celestial Treasures.
"Damned heretic, you dare to play with Celestial Treasures. You don't know the danger you cause for the entire Hegemony," Stata grunted in anger, as a burning aura surged from her.
The flames that had retreated surged again, totally covering Pandemonium's figure and devouring him completely.
And in that moment, both returned once again to the mortal realm. Jalida, exhausted and blind in one of her eyes, could barely move as she fell from a great height, before being caught by Stata, who helped her descend.
"Is he dead?" she asked in a weak voice.
"Yes, that bastard had no signs of life when I finished with him. Tsk, damn it, I underestimated him. To be able to face the three of us..."
Heraclio's figure was unconscious with weak breathing amidst the rubble of the city; he had fallen carelessly onto a building. That such a result was caused simply by the shockwave of the battle was in itself terrifying.
"He was in possession of three Celestial Treasures," Jalida replied. "That we made it out alive is a massive achievement."
Celestial Treasures. That was a taboo word, even outside the Hegemony. The reason, the fear, and the mystery surrounding them were the cause of their censorship. While the truth behind that prohibition had been lost years ago, probably only a few knew those secrets. And among those few, Jalida could be considered one of those who had the most clues about what had happened.
"Well, I suppose with this I can say I've won the bet. After all, I uh..." Her words failed to reach completion.
Because white blood flowed from her mouth and neck as the void suddenly tore open behind her, revealing giant silver claws covered in blood.
And then, a bestial figure emerged from the rift in the void. It had no mortal features; it was purely a beast. If she had to compare it, it would be a wolf over twelve meters long, but what stood out most about it—aside from its fur, which seemed to be made of wind and lightning—was that it had no head.
"I already told you not to underestimate me, false goddesses. Death, after all, isn't so easily attained by us, right?" Pandemonium said in a sinister tone.
The giant wolf bore a sinister shield strapped to it, carved with the figure of another wolf, and that shield glowed.
Another Celestial Treasure, Jalida thought in surprise.
The seer's expression distorted with rage as, behind her, her figure suddenly began to grow.
"Domain..."
Now, the twelve-meter figure of a headless wolf and a veiled, green-haired woman who towered over it at nearly twenty meters faced each other in the center of the city.
And at that moment, a true battle of monsters had begun.