Hear now, the cries of a land. She bleeds tears so deep that her skin dries. her sister sky, the colour of savagery and spouting curse upon curse on those insignificant low-lifes.
The ground shook at the behest of massive feet. With each step, they left behind a black crater that withered all life around them. The grass lost its vigour, the flower its beauty and the earth its colour.
Figures on horseback darted in-between the feet. They were like angry, desperate ants scrambling around and against the titan that dared step ever closer to their home. Throw everything, they did; lances, swords, arrows, magic and even their bodies.
Yet, for all their valiant effort, the massive, black, ,malignant beasts the size of mountains would not be deterred. Their endless bleats churned the stomach of every living being for miles. Their shapes drove lesser minds mad with fright and despair. Their near unstoppable assault was almost without riposte.
Almost.
From his place just outside the great hall, a stoic figure watched with concealed interest at the scene before him. The monstrosities had just reached the waycastle that guarded the bridge crossing the ravine. Obviously, these creatures had no need for it due to their immense size but it wasn't the act of destroying the structure that was his concern. No, that laid with the one responsible for the trouble.
Beside him, another figure approached. This one contrasted his own regal appearance by wearing a rather heavy set of robes mixed with a leather vest. A staff held leisurely in the crook of his left elbow. The figures expression mirrored his posture and in turn, he looked as if he had other things to attend to.
"With all honesty, there is no need to go through with this absurd scheme of yours," he turned to look at his compatriot. "If I may, there exist a more efficient solution, one with a lot less bloodshed and wasted resources and only requiring that we use a couple of high tier scrolls."
The stoic figure from before didn't even turn to look as he replied.
"But that would send the wrong message to the enemy," This earned a raised eyebrow from the relaxed figure.
"And, pray tell, what would be the 'right' message we are hoping to show?
This time, the figure turned to face the speaker. In the grey morning light, the features on his face looked more solemn than they ever were. The long hair that stretched barely to the base of his neck was matched by the scruffy beard he had. Brown hair, not overly masculine face and eyes that did well to hide the extent of his burden. It was the face with all the marks of a ruler from an ancient world.
And said ruler was about to do something drastic and in many ways, dangerous.
Before that, he took off his crown, and gave it to the person beside him. The figure raised his eyebrow in a silent inquiry. The ruler then spoke.
"The bad one," he said.
With that, he was off. A warrior came close to him and the two traded eye contact. A silent command was given and the warrior then quickly ran back the way he came. Rallying every able-bodied soldier to take a stand in the name of the Duke, One of Four Lords.
Despite the chaos unfolding before him, the Duke's compatriot continued standing where he was. His posture and attire alone made him stand out of the crowd like a tree of different shade but what truly marked him other than human was the smooth, flawless skin and pointed ears which were clear indication of elven heritage.
The duke made his way to the side of the castle. Pass the rushing defenders that took their time to give their ruler a wide berth. He saw men and their beast-men comrades frantically moving here and there. Fighters and mages trading less than civil words at each other and the enemy. Occasionally, the random serf would be there too, but most had been evacuated for the duration of the crisis.
Eventually, after navigating a maze of corridors, he found himself in the open gantry where the mounts were kept. The cold air of the morning was still somewhat fresh here and he took much pleasure in it. This was contra to the air outside the Great Hall that smelled foul with the dark magic of the titanic beasts.
His appearance within the wide area was met with an entourage of serfs. They quickly got to work removing his robes down to a simple linen shirt and trousers. Then, they began equipping him his armour and weapons. Granted, he could've had this done in a blink eye if he wished.
Looking into the eyes of those around him, he saw their fear reflected back clear as day. The maddening bleats of the eldritch monstrosities were getting louder and louder along with the thumps that signified the earth being gradually pummelled by something large. These people…. His people, needed something that would take their minds off the encroaching terror. To both help, and at the same time avoid getting caught, in the onslaught to come.
He gave them all an appreciative nod at their handiwork. Granted, it was only the first layer, but it was still good effort nonetheless.
A snort brought him to attention to the beast awaiting its master. It was a horse with coat the colour of snow white, and ashen hair to match. A remarkable creature, made even more peculiar with its set of wings protruding from behind its front shoulders.
The Pegasus was a beautiful creature with a fierce temper to match. Which is why he was proud that Blass was here. He carried with him the fiery spirit of his kin and at the same time the pride of being a mount to a great rider.
Getting nestled on top of the creature, he turned to bid farewell to the serfs. It wasn't exactly an overly dramatic thing but rather something out of sincere formality. It mattered not to him as his mind had focused elsewhere on more important things.
Yet, as the rider and mount flew out of the entryway and beyond, the ones who stood there could not hope but be awed by the almost flawless transition of ruler to hero.
From the sky, he had a bird's eye view of the whole battlefield. The first of the dark beings had already smashed the bridge that connected the keep to the other end of the ravine. Its two siblings seemed to be trying to go around instead. No doubt, in an elaborate flanking manoeuvre that brought the tactical advantage of despair against the defenders.
The sky suddenly lit up. Bright orange flares suddenly appeared, and from their epicentre opened vortexes the colour of blood red.
They cascaded through in a near ceaseless tide. Demons of varying sizes and shape, sporting wings, claws, chitin plating and many more wicked features. Some flew gracefully, while others simply enjoyed the fall all the while laughing in their foul tongue.
The scene before him was what one would call a nightmare. Like an excerpt taken from an evil almanac detailing the end of the world at the hands of monsters. The detailing complete with an illustration of civilizations last stand.
Yet, as the sky darkened, an opposing light, the colour of astral blue shined from within the great hall. The walls that surrounded the castle began shining grossly incandescent like the Sun itself had chosen to embrace the stone in act of protection. This was proven figuratively correct as the demons began burning or simply turned to ash before they even reach it. Some of the larger, tougher ones, were able to endure the onslaught of heat but simply found themselves too weak to advance and were easily dealt with by the now zealous defenders whom wasted no time in finishing them with pikes and magic.
The astral light from before now appeared as a vortex of its own in the sky. Unlike the demons, however, this one seemed to have its event horizon formed from the dark clouds. At its centre, the void seemed to 'inflate' like a bulbous growth, before opening to reveal something far, far, beyond mortal comprehension.
The stars had been revealed. In their eternal glory in the space beyond, diamonds upon a beautiful, intricate, tapestry. And within this tapestry, the light of the stars joined together point-to-point before converging on the centre of the void as a single ball of energy.
GAZE OF BEYOND.
The World-Level Spell was a difficult one to cast that required at least two Level One Hundred Players for it to be remotely viable in a battlefield environment. Not accounting the fact that such a spell would also require the two players have near identical builds for it to work. For a spell that guaranteed destruction, it certainly came with the time consumption of one.
Still, the how's of the spell was something for another time. A beam of light, no bigger than a man's fist shot out from the celestial ball at one of the eldritch monsters manoeuvring from the sides. Such a spell would've been overkill for a summon since it was mainly used as an opening attack for a guild raid but against something as nefarious as a Dark Young, it was perfect.
The light tore straight through black flesh. The creature's bleats took on a more panicked tone as the sensation of something invading its being caused no small amount of discomfort. It's, movements soon came to a halt altogether.
It stood stock still for a moment, before splitting into perfect halves and falling to the ground. What remained of it beginning to dissipate.
The other one had by this point finished crossing the ravine and was making a mad rush for the keep. The fiery glow of the walls had already begun to dim by this time, but the bulk of the demons had been reduced to a number the defenders could manage with care taken.
Still, the sight of the coming monstrosity managed to instil panic among the defenders whom immediately called for their mages to fire off whatever spells they could master. A panic that proved wholly unnecessary as a second beam lashed out and bisected the creature. This time, the creatures frontal half split off by the momentum of its run and tumbled onto the earth underneath it, halting just in front of the steep mound of stone the keep sat on.
As all of this happened, the rider and his mount continued to soar above the skies uninterrupted. This was due in part to the special item hidden underneath the rider's armour. One item among a whole collection of them but this particular one offered near total invisibility or rather, it simply forced NPC's to not take notice of his presence unless they were one of high level such as a Floor Guardian.
The duke took what he saw with satisfaction. His equal, the Sigma, had done his part in the plan. Now, came the real act.
He had purportedly rode Blass to the highest the Pegasus could go which placed him easily anywhere between four to five kilometres above the ground. By this point he could hardly see the what was going on down below but the dark figure of the remaining eldritch beast was still clearly visible. Its master was surely panicking by now as it had directed the beast from simply lumbering around the the ravine to forcefully climb up the steep cliff face.
He began to quickly undo the straps meant to keep him in place when riding a flying mount. The proud animal was already showing signs of exhaustion from having to maintain such high altitude on top of having someone riding it. Still, he wasn't going to make himself look like an ungrateful master.
His armoured hand stroked the side of the beast in a warm gesture. It turned a bit as it to look but never got a chance to when its master spoke….
"Thank you," He then tilted to one end and fell off the steed, surprising it.
The freefall down was in all ways exhilarating. Back when this was all just a game, a fall from such height would've been impossible, let alone the sensation he could feel of the wind pushing past him from under his armour. He squinted hard from the what wind slipped through the slits of his helm and impacted his face yet, he kept himself calm through sheer will as was necessary for he was about to do.
When he broke through the cloud layer, all of those below took immediate notice of him. Granted, the effects of the item mentioned earlier had ended but it wasn't that which attracted them.
From the ground, one would see a ball of fire coming straight down onto them. Or more exactly, the Dark Young that was at their gates.
As the oncoming meteor came close, most would miss the brief moment a ring of magic appeared in front of its trajectory and how the ring actually enveloped the meteor. Donning the person inside it with a holy affinity on top of their own buffs.
And as the meteor impacted the monster, everything in the immediate vicinity came to a grinding halt. Most were blown off their feet by the sudden hurricane like wind, while those sheltered within the buildings of the fort itself were relatively unharmed.
Great clouds of dirt had been kicked up by the impact. In the daze that followed the aftermath, the warrior that had been with the duke had somehow managed to limp himself to the edge of the now destroyed bridge, whilst leaning on his weapon for support. His armour mostly undone from the fighting and shockwave, leaving his scarred, muscled, body exposed in certain places. His helmet had also been damaged revealing his lone eye, and the socket of what remained of his other.
The man looked frantically into the chasm below for some evidence of the victor. He knew for sure that the meteor was the work of magic alone. So, he searched for the only other that he knew would be capable and also daring enough to try such stunt.
A black mist suddenly emerged from the clouds, prompting the warrior to ready himself despite a knot despair forming within him. Yet, his fears were dissuaded as the mist seemingly continued to rise and dissipate to the now clearing sky.
It was in that high noon sun that the person of his search was found. There, standing in a clearing with a knee down and surrounded by the light as if having been sent by Heaven, stood a warrior, greater than he was, or ever will be. In his hands, he carried a lance and a great shield that curved outwards. His body armoured to the point it left almost no notable gaps and at the same time made him tower over most common men. Save for a cape for his personal feature, he didn't carry any other ornaments.
The knight arose, his cuirass shining in the light. The close helm concealed his features but did not deter the righteous gaze that pierced right through the visor. He raised the lance in his hand and pointed it to the figure standing on the other end of the destroyed bridge.
The warrior followed the direction pointed but what he saw nearly frightened him to the core of his soul.
….. Something stood there at the far end. Its humanoid features betrayed the monstrosity lurking beneath the surface. A pair of wings behind it, and a wicked tail completed the outlook. What made this creature most peculiar was the dapper suit it wore and the devil-like jesters mask.
The darkness within the being was blatant for all to see. It was not a demon, no, but a devil from the depths. It had to be destroyed! But how? Could mortals even stand against such vileness?
His answer came from below. Attention was drawn when the armoured figure below started banging his weapon upon his shield. A call for battle. The heat from the impact was still visibly steaming off from his frame but it seemed to deter the knight, little. Rather, he used this moment as a blatant show of challenge by igniting his own enchantments, causing the armour to give off a brilliant white light.
The power that swelled was steadily rising, but it was hard to tell if it matched the devil. Nonetheless, it had caught the devils attention and for one reason or another, it went down into the chasm, accepting the knights challenge.
And so, there they stood, the knight on one end and the devil on the other. When apart and at a distance, one was ruler and the other loyal servant. One had his entire reign at his side ready to fight for their future while the other had its minions at beck and call. Yet, when placed together with bare metres to spare, the differences that set them apart was put to the test of battle.
The knight was the first to move, weapon thrusted forward.