Beneath his crimson armor, Zenith was boiling. His anger was so heightened that the pain of his wounds had almost faded away, replaced by the burning adrenaline that flowed through his weakened muscles. There was no fear now.
Of course, when he had asked to return to fight the day after he woke up, his father had strongly objected. But the Dreadking Rathalos no longer feared Khryselios. What he felt for him was more and more like contempt. The king of the Rathlands had sensed this, and after trying to re-establish his authority, he had given in to his own son. His anger had made him speak words more acidic and corrosive than Arsenic's venom, and Zenith, although he knew that these words had affected his father deeply, felt no remorse. The Rathien prince had expressed his indifferent feeling about the opinion of Khryselios, whom he knew to be incapable of retaliating, and had almost savored the sadness and defeat that had been imprinted on his face. "Between the life of a single person and the life of thousands of civilians, a king cannot afford to be selfish" he had spat before leaving him, alone and defeated.
And here he was, standing like the other fifteen hundred soldiers left to defend the Rathlands from its heart: the fortress of Ignis. They stood in front of the wall, ready to do the impossible to prevent the enemy from crossing the barrier of their bodies. From the ramparts, the best fire breathers prepared to act as "archers," as Tinarg called them. He explained that this was the term used for humans who defended their cities with artifacts that allowed them to hit their enemies from a distance. The system was ingenious, and since most monsters had natural projectiles such as flames, this strategy was adopted by many states. The royal troubadours were also called upon to stand on the fortifications of Ignis. The idea seemed absurd, but the Qurupecos' ability to regenerate the vitality of other monsters through their singing was actually very useful, so the generals asked the avian wyverns to come and help. Their song could also strengthen muscle tissue and thus give resistance to blows and extra striking power. No one knew how or why this happened. It was one of the world's greatest unsolved mysteries.
As always, the generals stood in the front line, prepared to face the Rakurai troops directly, who would appear at any moment. Above them, Astalian hovered like a vulture, scanning the skies for the appearance of the Nordics. The faces were tense. All were animated by the same force of despair, and this force was well known to be the most powerful. Except him. And Arsenic, who shared the same determination and thirst for vengeance as his older brother. Blast, for his part, had agreed to come back to fight, but he remained more moderate, and less carried away by the folly of listening to his temperamental blood. Zenith had felt himself grow wings when he noticed that his sister, usually so pragmatic, agreed entirely with his point of view.
Next to him stood a Mizutsune with many scars, whose face was not unknown to him. She too seemed to be ruled by a furious feeling, and this was shown by the frantic movements of her tail and the scarlet color of her facial fins. If he remembered correctly, they were a pinkish color under normal circumstances, blue under extreme fatigue, and bright red if the individual was highly upset.
"Isn't that the strange Foamian who leads the company sent by Tidal III as a backup? "Zenith asked himself.
He was drawn out of his thoughts by the clarion calls of Saxo and Trumpet, whose vocal pouch was deployed. Their beaks had also stretched out, ready to project powerful sounds.
"The Rakurians are in sight!" shouted Astalian from the air before landing in front of Tinarg.
The Gravios nodded, then turned to his soldiers.
"For the Rathlands!" he roared.
"FOR THE RATHLANDS!" they all shouted in unison.
Almost immediately, the characteristic sound of a flame ready to be breathed out resounded dozens of times, and the first flaming projectiles split the air to fall at the foot of the hill where the first Nordics were emerging. Rakurai and two of his sons were leading the regiment. Zenith felt revenge boil his blood again: Oxiderr was next to his father.
Most of the fireballs hit, and the front lines were slowed down by the fiery rain that fell on them, except for the emperor, his sons and his generals, evading flames with a terrifying grace. The plain of Ignis shook under the frantic gallop of the Rakurian warriors and the impact of the archers' desolation remained behind the Nordics. The passage of the army turned the ground over like a plow with a steel ploughshare, and threw whole clods of earth in all directions. Despite the wind blowing in their favor, each Rathien heard the ferocious howl of the four leading Zinogres and then the approving roar of the entire regiment pounding their eardrums. They must have been two hundred meters away by now. The Qurupecos troubadours then began to sing, and Zenith felt his tissues harden spontaneously. The effect of the melodies was simply awesome.
The Dreadking Rathalos was on the alert. Every muscle in his body was tensed up to the limit, and his mouth was continuously emitting small flames that he could just not control. Woe betide anyone who crossed his path. He had a revenge to accomplish, and nothing would distract him from it. When the Rakurians were no more than fifty meters away, Zenith used all the strength of his lungs to expel a rock-like projectile. It was not really a stone. It was a fragment of his Ruby coupled with his flames. Every monster had a jewel inside him, near his heart. Very fragile at birth, it developed with age, becoming more and more powerful. Indeed, it allowed its bearer to exploit the totality of the power of the one who had it. For the Rathalos, for example, it was called "Ruby", and acted mainly on the capacity of the throat to produce flames. For others, such as the Gravios, the effect was more diffuse. In the past, hunters coveted these gems, which were symbols of the carrier monster, and sold them like common jewelry. Zenith, on the other hand, was able to do something unusual: he could fragment his gem and incorporate it into his flames, thus creating a veritable time bomb. However, the regeneration of this one being rather slow, he should not abuse it, contrary to what his vengeful instinct screamed at him.
The stone, which emitted a visible burning aura, landed at the feet of the Nordics, who did not have time to realize the nature of this object, as it exploded a few seconds later with a deafening noise. Screams of pain rose up, and when the smoke cleared, it revealed a dozen Gammoths struck down by the flames, which were ravaging their tricolored fur. The fanged beasts were trying to extinguish them with their icy breath, trumpetting long laments. Behind them, it was noticeable that the most affected by the explosion were monsters bound to the ice element, such as Lagombis or Zamtrios. This did not stop Rakurai and the rest of his regiment, however, as they continued their assault with increasing speed. The spaces that became vacant were filled by the Burutian reinforcements, who were not very sensitive to fire. Zenith felt the emperor's eyes search for the person responsible for this unpleasantness, and land on his smoldering, glowing maw. The fanged wyvern roared again, charging its back hair. The heirs soon followed. The Rakurians swooped down on the last Rathiens left to defend the Kingdom. Most of them leapt over the Rathien front lines to avoid the point-blank flames the soldiers were spitting out, but did not counter the second shower of fire from the archers.
Zenith threw himself body and soul at an oncoming Gammoth. Grabbing one of its tusks, he used its support to climb onto its back, biting it savagely with his still burning fangs. The blue mammoth struggled, but continued to advance, jostling the soldiers in its path. The prince of the Rathlands then planted his fangs and claws even deeper into the hard skin, putting all his weight on the rocky defense serving as a support, in order to stop the progression of the fanged beast. The beast, feeling the poison of the Rathalos' talons running through its veins, reared up with a roar and grabbed the flying wyvern with its trunk. Zenith held on, biting the prehensile trunk as it tried to spit out its icy breath, tearing off a clump of red and white hair in the process. He caught sight of a Barioth lunging at him from the air, but he knocked it down with a particularly powerful flaming sphere before he could come to the Gammoth's aid.
The mammoth was losing a lot of blood, and was exhausted from struggling in vain. Zenith waited until he could get down on one knee and slid down to the hairy throat, which he clamped with his fangs. Then, when he felt the jugular vein between his teeth, he yanked them out of his grip. The blue-fanged beast bellowed in despair, and the Rathalos finished it off first with a powerful blow from his metal-protected tail on its stony temple. The huge mass collapsed to the ground, causing a jolt that threw the nearby fighters off balance. Zenith didn't have to wait long to meet his next opponent. A beam of ice shot over the blue mammoth's corpse, and a Zamtrios appeared. Leaping over the carrion, he created his characteristic ice armor, then threw himself at the Dreadking, hoping to pierce him with his frozen horn. Zenith had no trouble dodging the amphibian, and responded with a devastating ball of flame. The grunt he let out was a testament to the ice shark's pain. Giving it no respite, the Prince of Rathlands charged sharply, then nailed the Zamtrios' mouth with one of his talons. With the other, he clawed savagely at the soft flesh of the belly, and sank his fangs into the dorsal fin. The resistance he offered was too weak to prevent Zenith from disemboweling him. The amphibian tried one last time to spit out its ice, then collapsed in a pool of blood and entrails. A Lagombi fell next to it, decapitated by Astalian's peridot blade, which moved at prodigious speed in a flash of green. Zenith saw that she was hampered in her usual role by a squad of Barioths trying to corner her. The garnet Rathalos saw fit to intervene, and propelled himself into the air. He stepped behind one of the Barioths, then spat his flames at point blank range at the flying saber-toothed tiger's neck. Taking advantage of its imbalance, he charged at it at high speed, grabbed it with his talons, and used his inertia to bring it down. The ice wyvern had neither time to recover nor to retaliate, and did not get up, having hit the ground head first. Around him, the situation was already turning sour: the Rakurian ice and lightning were advancing against the Rathland flames, and the Rathland ranks were badly damaged.
Zenith promptly avoided the lightning bolts of a Garnet Khezu that had just landed in front of him.
"By Teostra! "he growled inwardly as he retaliated with a fireball.
Fortunately, a Gravios Onyx appeared to oppose the problematic flying wyvern with its bulky body.
The Prince of the Rathlands moved away from the upcoming duel, and came to the aid of a Lavasioth, who was in trouble with a Tetsucabra that held him captive between its huge jaws. Angrily, he rushed towards it and snapped one of its prominent fangs with his steel-capped tail. The red toad bellowed in pain and his victim seized the opportunity to break free and retaliate with a shoulder strike that sent the Rakurian tumbling. Zenith landed the final blow with another swipe of his tail on the amphibian's skull.
"Thank you, My Prince!" the soldier said, before charging back into the battle, this time with a Jade Barroth.
The Dreadking nodded imperceptibly, then rose into the air again to take stock of the aerial situation. But as he leaped, a mass came down on him, preventing him from spreading his wings. The garnet Rathalos roared in incomprehension, and fell heavily to the ground, crushed by the weight from the sky.
"Did you think you could escape so easily, you mangy rat?!" a voice roared, chilling his boiling blood.
Zenith felt his muscles weaken all at once, now driven by fear rather than anger. Those same muscles screamed at him to get out of the way of this assailant, whom he could not see, but whom he recognized. His vision was dotted with little dancing stars.
"Remember me, Rathalos? I heard you were a prince...", the deep, terrifying voice whispered dangerously, "and even the firstborn heir! How surprising! It fills me with joy to know this detail: this country is entirely populated by weak wretches, even its royal caste! And you, poor fool, I can't even determine which of your father or you is more incapable!"
If the first words of the Rakurian had frozen him in horror, these ones had pulled him out of his torpor, which mutated into a nameless rage.
"I AM NOTHING LIKE MY FATHER!" Zenith shouted, who took a burst of extraordinary strength to get rid of his attacker, and spat a spray of furious flames in his face, spreading his huge dark red wings.
Blinded by his reborn fury, he rushed at the grey scaled Zinogre, who wore an irritating smirk, visibly satisfied with his attack. Oxiderr avoided this blind charge by shifting to the side.
"Did I strike a nerve, by any chance?" he sneered, retaliating with a claw that the garnet-colored Rathalos parried with his tail.
The Dreadking Rathalos was feeling crazy.
"Shut up, you son of a bitch! You'll pay for insulting me and my brothers and sisters!" he roared as he exhaled another Ruby fragment, then leapt back to avoid the explosion.
The Rakurians who stood too close were decimated by it, while the Rathiens escaped with a few burns, and didn't bother to dwell on it. However, Zenith was surprised by Oxiderr who had risen untouched from the flames and sent five electric spheres straight at him. He destroyed the first three with his flames, but was unable to fight back against the other two, which he took with full force. The moon gray Zinogre then struck him with a powerful shoulder strike, knocking him to the ground. Lying on his back, he had the sensation of being paralyzed, something probably possible after the electric shock he had suffered.
"N-No... Not again! "he thought as he tried to contract each of his muscles, without success.
Oxiderr had slowly advanced towards him, his fangs uncovered in a rictus as provocative as frightening.
" ... "Pay up", eh?! I'm afraid that's not possible, alas. Your pathetic strength doesn't allow you to do so", he spat in his face. "So stop talking such nonsense, if you can't handle it!"
Zenith felt the flames rise in his throat, but the Zinogre slapped him in the face before he could spit them out.
"Is that all you have to say to me? All words, and no acts?" he growled even louder, so loud that Zenith felt as if it was that growl that suddenly had turned the sky a coal black.
"This is..."
"I would have done better to kill you the first time your miserable existence got in my way, you junk prince! And you would have even thanked me, in the end, to keep you from continuing to live bearing the weight of your shame, your weakness, your cowardice!"
Zenith was no longer listening to him. The sharp, venomous words did nothing for him. He was fascinated by the hue of the sky.
"In the old days,
When crime and horror only begat disarray,
Everything went unpunished, even the most severe outrage,
And the monsters suffered in silence injustice and concealed their rage.
But justice had to be done on Earth,
And from black skies descended its wrath in a shade even darker,
Showing up as the Misery Spreader. "
Oxiderr continued to offend him with even more aggressive words, but this provoked no reaction from the Rathalos. He was still staring at the sky, lost in distant thoughts.
"Fear the one who watches over honor,
He who brings vengeance and happiness to victims,
And to the blasphemers the divine punishment of the fury of misfortune.
Fear the hero Gamala, bound to this value. "
"Gamala …" he murmured as he felt the wind rise in sudden gusts.
"What are you talking about now, you Rathien moron?! Have you gone mad, by all the gods?"
The Rakurian's fury faded as he heard the dull roar that shook the entire plain.
Rakurai II could not believe his eyes. He had, during his reign, had the opportunity to live and see many unlikely events. Like meeting a mythical hero, for example. Or living through a revolution at the age of ten. But what had just happened was simply beyond comprehension.
"Dad, who is this gu…" Irodim started, before his father manually shut his mouth
.
The jet-black individual had emerged from the clouds with a low, shrill cry. Everything about that cry inspired a fear that seemed innate, rooted in the deepest of hearts. The six-limbed dragon had now landed on the ground, his wings resting on his back like a cape. A strange black smoke was forming under his wings, supported by crimson claws of a frightening shape. His eyeless head was then slightly raised to stare at the emperor of Rakuria. And despite the absence of eyeballs that could easily testify of his mood, the Thunderlord Zinogre had sensed that the coming of this unusual being was caused by his person. It was one of the few times he felt anguish, for he could not remember any fact that could justify any punishment. No, he had already paid for the criminal invasion of the Skypierciers Empire at the beginning of the Bloody War, and for his multiple lookouts for merchants supplying the Rathlands during that same period. The greenish Zinogre had nothing to be ashamed of, and that's what worried him.
"To whom am I speaking?" he asked in a tone that he modulated as curious and respectful.
The night-black dragon gave a growl.
"Don't you know who you're dealing with, Emperor?" came the harsh voice of the intruder.
The fact that he used the word "emperor" to refer to him confused him even more, but he pulled himself together.
"Not exactly, no. But I have a hunch that it's not an ordinary person …"
His interlocutor raised his head more in a disdainful gesture.
"You are addressing the one called Gamala, also known as "the Misery Spreader". You have a lot of nerve, emperor, to provoke me, one of the three Heroes ...
"What on earth is he talking about, by Kirin? And did he just say that he is considered a Hero? "
"I do not know what you mean, if I may say so …"
"Your blood has committed an outrage worse than heinous," he cut him off curtly, "and I have come to administer an equivalent punishment."
"Oh."
"You mean that …"
"You know very well what that means, Emperor. And since this slanderous act was directed not only at a single victim, but at his entire people, then you will pay for this affront with the suffering of your own people."
Rakuraï felt himself freeze in horror.
"How dare you?!" He then exploded. "If one of my sons is guilty, let him suffer the consequences personally!"
"Who among these three idiots could have done this?" he thought with despair and rage.
"As I told you before, the crime committed targeted the entire Rathien people. The same will be true for the people of the blasphemer, who will have something to ponder about his act and this punishment."
The emperor had his back to the wall. His people, his men, were going to have to suffer the consequences of a childish foolishness executed by one of his sons, the flesh of his flesh.
"The Nordic people are not guilty!" he barked.
Wisps of black smoke were forming more and more around the dark dragon whose body was showing strange violet reflections.
"Challenge one of the three voices of Justice again and you will face a second punishment, Emperor! You could not even tell which of your descendants had sin and what they had done to make my sentence so!"
The Thunderlord was torn between fear for the hero and anger at such an unjust judgment. But the choice was quickly made. Its clenched mouth opened to utter a terrible sentence.
"Go to fucking hell!"
The Misery Spreader spread his wide, torn-looking wings as two bright purple horns rose on his skull. The wind blew further, causing a multitude of strange swirls of mist to form.
"You deserved it, irresponsible emperor! Rathiens, justice is served! The Rakurians have done wrong, this is their punishment!" roared Gamala, turning to them.
With a shout, the mist he seemed to control shot out from all sides, spinning towards the Rakurian side. Like a thick, toxic cloud, it smothered them, and everyone breathed in the acrid, black smoke that irritated their throats and lungs. Rakurai and Irodim were hardly spared.
"There is something foul in this mist..." he thought between two coughs.
Oxiderr emerged from the black fog in which they were all trapped.
"Father! What on earth is going on here, by Oroshi?!" he exclaimed.
Rakurai turned to him.
"One of you screwed up!" the emperor shouted in anger. "And the one who seems to be a hero, like Akalash, declared that this fault deserved a punishment applying to all Rakurians, in the name of Justice! And I would put my hand on it that this mist is part of it!"
His eldest son looked incensed.
"And he pretends to defend Justice?! By accusing innocent people? What a vile imposter!" he roared back.
"You bet your ass," scolded the green Zinogre, who then glanced behind him. "By the plague! Why are they all collapsing?!" he then shouted, noticing with fright that some of his warriors were lying on the ground. "We must retreat, and quickly! Irodim, Oxiderr, take my orders to Blizzard, I'll take care to warn Asterion! Go!"
The two Zinogres complied, and Rakurai then dashed into the middle of the general confusion that the arrival of the mist had generated.
"What is this infamy? What have they done, my devilish sons, for my people to suffer like this? I'm going to give the one responsible a severe beating when this is all under control... In the meantime, I must announce the withdrawal of the troops... Never mind Ignis, we are not capable of fighting with some kind of curse hanging over us! We will have other opportunities to fight ... And by the plague, the cholera ... What is this damned smoke?! "