V2 C11 - The Great Disaster Begins

On his two-hundredth day as the Demon Emperor, David called all of his inner council to the throne room.

Standing beside his throne was a gigantic wolf looming over them.

It was ten metres long with snow white fur, deep red eyes, and it was baring its sword-like teeth to them.

“My council, today marks the beginning of the end of the Holy Empire of Themis.”

It had been eighty days since the assassination of Duke Louis and David had spent most of that time crafting a plan for his overwhelming victory.

He had been making preparations for his two-hundredth day for it was the day he would finally execute his plan to destroy the Holy Empire.

His army had grown substantially and he was in the process of acquiring new allies.

Both Jorōgumo and Mímir's spies had spread throughout the entirety of the Holy Empire, and had even begun spreading further to the north and west.

However, one thing had always managed to evade David’s reach and that was sourcing strong metals to use for his and his general’s equipment.

I’d hoped that we would’ve uncovered at least one suitable metal to use by now, but we’ve hit nothing but dead ends. My summoned armour’s probably very weak in comparison to the best this world has to offer, so I definitely need new equipment.

Mímir mentioned a few metals he’d heard adventurers talking about at the Hierophant, but it was all very rare and expensive, and there were only a few kilograms of it in Stonefall. I’ll have to get him and Jorōgumo to increase their efforts in finding strong metals.

David had been in constant contact with Kella over the last eighty days.

The two even exchanged letters at least twice a month.

David had given Kella an address to a small house in Themis which, in reality, was a base for the Ravens and spiders investigating the city. Whenever a letter did arrive for David, Jorōgumo’s spiders passed the information to her and she passed it onto David.

Per his orders, both she and the Ravens were sworn to silence about the letters and were never to be mentioned to anyone else.

Honestly, if it wasn’t for Kella, I’d probably have gone insane by now.

Whenever he wanted to take a break from his duties, he would visit Kella wherever she was. They’d spend the whole day and night together, then David returned home to the Dread Keep early the next morning.

If his generals asked him where he’d been, David would lie or tell them it wasn’t any of their business.

. …If there’s one part of my plan that I’m uncertain about, it’s you, Kella.

For now, David pushed her to one side and continued speaking to his council.

“You might be wondering who my new servant beside me is. This is Fenrir, the Wolf of the End, and she’s able to transform into a humanoid form like the twins are.”

David snapped his fingers and the wolf’s body began to glow a pale blue. Its body began to shrink into the form of a tall, muscular woman with wolf-like ears and a tail.

Her limbs were half-human and half-wolf, and she was wearing a loose-fitting white shirt and torn black shorts, leaving most of her skin exposed.

Her hair, like the fur on her arms and legs, were a beautiful white colour and her eyes were a fierce ice blue.

“Normally, I would have Fenrir introduce herself properly, but there are more pressing matters to attend to. I trust you find that acceptable, Fenrir.”

“Of course, Dark Lord!” Fenrir loudly proclaimed, slamming her fist against her chest in salute. “This is a special day for the Dark Lord, and I wouldn’t dare ruin it for you.”

“Good. Within fifty days’ time, the Holy Empire of Themis will fall.”

The generals, Jessica and Jorōgumo excitedly cheered and mumbled amongst themselves, whereas Rebecca, Eva and Hilda looked on calmly, not showing any emotion on their faces.

Eva and Rebecca aren’t shaking like they used to.

Either they’re fully committed to serving me, or maybe they’ve just resigned themselves to their fate.

“My council, it has been a long, and difficult, journey. We have had many great successes, made many great allies, and.” David lost his smile as he fixed his eyes on his first wave of generals. “We’ve had many setbacks.” The twins and Fenrir smiled smugly at the original three generals who lowered their heads a little.

“However, as of now, all those previous grievances shall be forgiven.”

Stunned, all of the generals turned their gazes to David, and Mania snuck in a snide grin towards the newer generals.

“From here on out, I shall not judge you for your previous failures and shall only judge you for what you do now as we move forward. I have orders for each of you, personalised to meet your specific skill sets, so I would be very disappointed if you did something stupid like go off on your own judgement without my knowledge or permission.”

I spent weeks agonising over how best to use each of you, not just as we take Themis down but for when we declare ourselves to the world.

As long as they don’t do anything stupid or get discovered whilst obeying my orders, then we stand a real chance of overthrowing the Holy Empire.

“Fenrir, as you have only just been summoned, you’ll be assigned to the Hierophant as their bouncer for the time being. Mímir, Mania: make sure to thoroughly eradicate the Sons of Tartarus once this Herakles attacks. Scum like that are not worthy to be part of my empire. Remember, time is off the essence after they attack and none are to escape. Spare whatever slaves you find and bring them here.”

“We shall swiftly deal with them when the time comes, your majesty,” Mímir said.

“I will also make sure that we don’t cause a disturbance like before, Master,” Mania added, curtseying with a seductive smile.

“Good. Then, let us begin.” David snapped his fingers and, from the shadows, the Ravens emerged, scrolls in hand, and began handing out the council’s orders.

They each opened their orders and began to study them intently.

“Soon, the Satyr Skull will fly above all the cities in Themis and the world will know of the Demon Emperor.”

There were one hundred and sixty-five days to go before Eris’s deadline and the summoned heroes would arrive, and David didn’t intend to waste a single one of them.

***

With an army of thirty-thousand undead at his back, Karak-Harth launched his attack on the most north-easterly city of the Holy Empire: Teriscant.

It was a mercantile and military stronghold that, like Stonefall, helped safeguard the Holy Empire’s northern borders. It had a population of half a million guarded by four thousand city-watch and twenty thousand members of the Holy Legion.

After what happened to Black Port and at Stonefall, the people of Teriscant had feared that they too would be caught up in the Great Disaster, but they had no way of knowing a legendary sorcerer would attack with a powerful army at his back.

Karak-Harth’s horde was thirty-thousand strong, though most were unarmed skeletons, and they spread themselves thin to surround the city. Among them, there were six liches, forty death knights and forty bone golems that stood four metres tall.

They formed a perimeter two hundred metres from the city’s walls.

“So, the gracious Saint Themis Rhamnous allowed my old home to keep its name,” Karak-Harth mused as he floated above his army. He gathered mana around his body as he glared hatefully at the city. “Naïve girl, allow me to demonstrate to you up in there in the Heavens just how fragile the empire you built truly is.”

Karak-Harth raised his staff high into the air and a gigantic magic circle, thirty metres wide, appeared above him, aimed at the city.

“For the Dark Lord.”

Countless fireballs rained down upon Teriscant, bombarding its buildings and people.

Each ball exploded upon impact, blasting debris and shrapnel, killing even more people.

The soldiers on the walls took cover inside the gates and towers, but the fireballs blew away the stone with great ease.

“Burn the city to the ground. Don’t let anyone escape.”

The undead horde roared and charged.

The liches soared forward, flinging bolts of fire at the wooden houses and buildings in the most heavily populated areas.

Unfortunately for the people of Teriscant, there hadn’t been any rain in the city for the last week which made it a prime target for an uncontrollable, burning blaze to spread.

Per the Demon Emperor’s orders, Teriscant was to be destroyed and its population raised as undead to join Karak-Harth’s army.

His horde was to become the Great Disaster.

“Master, should we not surround the city first?”

“No. Collapse all the gatehouses instead.”

“As you wish, master.”

The liches focused their attacks on the city’s three gatehouses as Karak-Harth continued to rain fire upon Teriscant and its people.

Even if I damage the bodies, I should still be able to raise the horde that the Dark Lord wants me to.

The undead reached one of the gates and the bone golems rammed into it at great speed, blowing the wood off the hinges. The undead swarmed into the breach as the defenders tried to rally and meet them in battle, but the chaos caused by the fire and the attack left them in disarray.

They were powerless to stop the undead from killing everyone in their path.

Tens of thousands tried to hide or flee, but not a single person escaped Teriscant.

With two of the gatehouses reduced to rubble and the third blocked off by the undead, no one was able to escape.

The fire and rubble blocked off the entrances to the city’s sewers and all other possible ways out, leaving half a million trapped inside like lambs to the slaughter.

Long before the sun rose, there wasn’t a single living soul inside Teriscant.

***

“The Great Disaster is here!”

“We have angered and failed the Great Goddess for she has allowed her greatest enemy to return! Repent, people of the empire, repent! Pray for her mercy and pray that she stays her hand before more die!”

“I heard that no one got out of Teriscant.”

“Not even one person?! That’s ridiculous.”

“If people managed to get out of Black Port, surely they could’ve escaped Teriscant, right?”

“Black Port had lots of docked ships; Teriscant was landlocked.”

“Ah, why has Themis forsaken us?!”

“What did we do to deserve this?!”

Fear spread all across the empire.

That panic in turn spread the rumours and stories more, leading to even more fear to spread.

Soon, within just a few days of Teriscant’s destruction, everyone in the Holy Empire knew of what had happened.

***

“It is as Themis said,” Lawrence grumbled. “Karak-Harth has returned to enact his vengeance upon the Holy Empire.”

“So, it would seem,” Arieon whispered. “I thought that we would have more time, but I was wrong. I thought that the Great Disaster would begin at Stonefall and I was wrong.”

“That mistake cost half a million people their lives,” Kella chided.

“Hey, do you think if the Paladins had been there rather than Stonefall then-”

“They surely would’ve perished too,” Lawrence said. “Even if I had been there too, our chances would’ve been slim. They set the city ablaze. If the undead didn’t kill them, the fire or smoke would’ve.”

“And, if the stories are to be believed, Karak-Harth’s strength was so great he could wound Saint Themis, even with her divine protection and abilities,” Isabella added. “If we were to try and fight someone like that who has a large army at their back, the Paladins would surely lose.”

“And what in Themis’s name are our chances now?” Christoph mumbled, his head in his hands. “Half a million, that’s what the scouts say. Half a damn million. We can’t beat that.”

“Not alone, at least,” Arieon said. “If we add in the might of the Holy Legion and the Paladins, the adventurers and the Trú elves, then we might just stand a chance.”

“Isn’t that reassuring?” Kella asked which made Dante chuckle bitterly. “The Emperor’s going to call all the banners to the capital, isn’t he?”

“Most likely. If there’s one place that Karak-Harth would absolutely want to destroy, it’d be the city named after his old enemy. We’re only a few days away; we could go there and help them organise the defence.”

“What about Paladin’s Place?” Christoph asked. “It’s right between Teriscant and Themis, and they will surely perish without aid.”

“…Paladin’s Place is too close to the enemy to make it a good place to fortify and make our stand,” Lawrence said. “We’ll have to abandon it.”

“B-but, my lord!” Christoph’s eyes beginning to water. “The castle is there as-as…” He bit his lip. “As is my wife.”

“I know.”

“We can’t just leave them to die!”

“Don’t you think I know that?! Don’t you think I know how awful it is to abandon Paladin’s and leave it to the undead? Don’t you think I want to save the people there, too? They know what’s coming, the whole empire knows what’s coming and they’re going to start running with or without our aid.”

“Might it be worth someone taking some of our men and riding to Paladin’s to help them, Lord Lawrence?” Isabella asked.

Lawrence calmed down. “Yes, you’re quite right. Christoph, take two hundred men and as many carriages as you can find or buy, and head to Paladin’s Place. Evacuate it with great speed and care. Charge all the costs to the Paladins and I’ll handle the rest.”

“At once, my lord!”

Christoph shot off and slammed the inn door behind him.

“Well then, it seems we must do our part, too,” Arieon said. “Saddle your horses. Lawrence, Isabella; ride on ahead of us and send word to Stonefall. Call every Paladin to Themis and, while you’re at it, see what information they discovered about the Great Disaster.”

“Surely that’s a bit pointless now, all things considered, old man.”

“Perhaps, Dante, or perhaps they’ll have learnt something that could help us save the Holy Empire from total destruction.”

“Isabella, let’s go.”

“By your command, Lord Lawrence.”

Once the two Paladins left, Arieon smiled warmly at Kella and Dante. “Saddle up, you two. We’ll be riding with only short rests to Themis and let us hope that we aren’t too late.”

***

Sat on her balcony with a cold cup of tea, Princess Raeanne gazed off into the distance, towards the Federation, her lover’s homeland.

In the months following Duke Louis’s assassination, peace talks between the Royal Kingdom and the Federation had broken down entirely.

The Federation was out for blood and it wouldn’t accept anything else.

Despite Raeanne and her father’s pleas that they would never have ordered Louis’s death, the Federation didn’t listen.

The Royal Kingdom’s reputation stood upon a knife’s edge because of the assassination, and the whole world saw them as villains.

The happy couple was famous and beloved by all, but there were rumours that a secret lover, a high ranking noble or the king himself might have arranged the attack.

It had to be someone with a lot of money and that meant it had to be someone in a very powerful position.

The Federation was seen by their neighbours as being in the right and, as a result, their army of seventy thousand men had assembled.

In response, the Royal Kingdom’s sixty thousand men gathered at the border.

No one wanted to be the one to start the war, but all it would take was one more push, a push that Raeanne couldn’t do a thing about.

We’ll spend the rest of our lives building that bright future.

Louis had said those very words to her the night before their wedding and they never stopped repeating in her mind, never allowing her to rest.

Raeanne felt numb.

“Louis, what am I meant to do now?”

***

“I’m Fenrir, Wolf of the End. The Dark Lord’s last general to be summoned before the Demon Empire is officially declared. Happy to be working with ya, Mania, Mímir.”

It was late at night and the Hierophant, which usually would’ve been filled with guests, was empty, allowing Mania, Mímir and Fenrir to get to know one another better.

Due to the high number of murders in the city, a strict night-time curfew had come into effect across Stonefall, meaning that the Hierophant was empty even during their peak business hours.

“I had always wanted to meet the great wolf who would one day swallow Lord Odin,” Mímir admitted, thinking back to how his head used to hang from Odin’s side. “Alas, I was unable to see that event with my own eyes.”

Fenrir laughed boisterously. “Ah, it was a fight like no other, let me tell ya. Old Odin put up a good fight but even he couldn’t fight against fate.”

“Does that mean your fate came to pass too?”

She nodded. “Killed by a different God after killing the big man. Heh. Still, if I had to die, I’m glad I went out fighting. I got the better end of the stick unlike you, Mímir.”

“Quite.”

“If you’re capable of killing a God when you’re that gigantic wolf, I imagine you’re just as strong as that like this,” Mania said. “Or are you weaker in this form?”

“It’s about the same, really. The main thing that changes is really just my size. Just as mobile, just as strong and just as durable either way. That said.” Fenrir pulled at the collar of her loose-fitting shirt. “I could do with some better clothes.”

“I’m sure Rebecca would be more than willing to accommodate you or, failing that, we could always go shopping for something in the city.”

“Why not just wait fifty days when the Demon Empire is born?”

“You just don’t get it, do you, Mímir?” Mania huffed. “Some of us, unlike you, actually care about what we wear and want to look our best on a day-to-day basis.”

Mímir looked down at the armour, cloak and clothes he was wearing. “What’s wrong with what I wear?”

“Nothing, just that it’s rather boring to think that someone can wear the same clothes each and every single day and never get sick of it.”

“You never change either.”

Mania glowered at him. “I’ll have you know that I have changed what I wear to work here every single day.”

“…You did?”

“You really never notice?!”

Mímir and Mania glared viciously at one another as Fenrir looked on bemused.

Then, someone knocked at the door before letting themselves in.

“Lord Mímir, Lady Mania, I have come to-” Sylvan started to say.

“Who’s this prat?”

Sylvan did a double take, but he quickly recovered, smiled, and bowed politely to Fenrir. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, servant of the Dark Lord. My name is Sylvan and I am your master’s loyal agent within the Sons of Tartarus.”

“So, he’s a rat?”

Mania laughed. “He’s an informant for us and has been for some time, haven’t you?”

“Yes, my lady. I am here to make my fortnightly report, but it would appear that you are busy.”

“We just finished our conversation, actually. Do you have anything to report regarding Herakles and his plan to attack us?”

“I do, my lord. Two days ago, the last of Herakles’s elite squadrons returned to the city and he is now ready to make his move against you.”

“And you told us this two days after the fact because you wanted to die?” Fenrir growled.

“On the contrary, it’s because two days ago we had a meeting among the remaining heads and the four of us settled on the date.”

“When is it?” Mímir asked.

“Four days from now, my lord. Herakles intends to attack you with all eighty of his best men and himself in tow. The Sons no longer care about whether or not the attack becomes public and instead wish to see their reputation restored, no matter the cost.”

“Why four days from now?” Mania asked.

“Because Herakles is a very careful man. He wants to practice the assault a few times and he wants to be extra sure that the city watch or other groups don’t get involved in the fighting.”

If what Sylvan’s saying is true, then we’ll have plenty of time to prepare ourselves and be able to easily turn it around on them, Mímir thought.

“Then, we best begin our preparations.”

However, what Mímir and Sylvan didn’t discover during their investigations was that Herakles hadn’t trusted Sylvan for a long time, not since the auction house had been raided.

After the meeting when he took control of the Sons, Herakles had secretly bribed some beggars on the streets to stake out several streets that Sylvan and Yohan often travelled down. Herakles then used that information to determine if either, or both, of them had betrayed the Sons of Tartarus.

Then, when Sylvan went to make his fortnightly report to Mímir at the Hierophant, one of the informants spotted him and reported it to Herakles. Herakles warned Carlson of the leak and he began making plans to attack the Hierophant to destroy both their enemies and the traitor.

Tonight, when Sylvan entered the Hierophant, forty of Herakles’s best killers, all as strong as B-ranked adventurers, surrounded the Hierophant and were ready to storm the building.

After their scouts reported that there were only four people inside, they struck.

Eight men burst through the front door, another eight came in through the back into the kitchen, and twelve more broke through the windows, leaving the rest on the perimeter.

The second they broke through the front entrance, one of the men charged at Sylvan and swung his sword at his neck.

The strike was so powerful that Sylvan’s head was cut clean off his body.

As Sylvan’s head flew through the air and the rest of the mercenaries lunged at the others, Mímir's mind was confused, with a single question hanging in his head.

How did they get so close without us detecting them?