The Wrath of Balisarda Sumernor

"If the military dares start a war with me, then I shall crush all of them." Balisarda Sumernor's arm was in the air as he spoke. "I have had enough of their machinations, and it ends now. I will not tolerate any more of their attempts to control me. I will show them the error of their ways and make them regret ever crossing me."

***

Balisarda Sumernor is an extraordinary individual who possesses an extraordinary power: the ability to summon any type of sword he desires. This unique ability is executed by creating a portal on the palm of his hand, through which swords from an otherworldly realm are summoned. Each sword summoned is imbued with its own distinct power and is brought forth through the user's willpower and desire.

But Balisarda's power does not stop here, as he is able to amplify his summoning power even further through the use of Takemikazuchi's wrath. This enhancement allows for the manifestation of an astounding eighty thousand portals in the sky instead of just one on the palm of his hand. These portals pull out eighty thousand swords, each completely different in terms of the type of ability they possess.

The immense amount of aura radiating from Balisarda Sumernor's hand grows stronger and stronger. As Balisarda Sumernor shouted out loudly "Takemikazuchi's wrath", an explosive sound occurred as all of the tremendous aurae from Balisarda turned into a large blast that struck the sky, casting a gargantuan shadow over his castle stretching above the military war headquarters.

The ground began shaking as Balisarda Sumernor reached its peak. The earth began to crack as the thunderous roar from Balisarda's hand shook the ground. The ground shook so violently that it began to break apart, and the cracks spread throughout the area. Balisarda's aura was so strong that it caused the ground to split apart and the rocks to shatter.

Jabari stood at the summit of a small hill, his gaze fixed upon the magnificent sight of Balisarda, the enemy castle. Its towering stone walls and defensive towers commanded respect, casting an intimidating shadow against the backdrop of the clear blue sky. As he absorbed the grandeur of the castle, memories flooded Jabari's mind, each one intertwining with a mix of emotions.

Amidst the preparations of his own army, the rhythmic sounds of marching soldiers and the clanging of hammers against metal tent pegs reverberated in the background. Behind Jabari on the hill, the military camp unfolded according to his orders. The soldiers, their boots pounding against the earth in unison, moved with purpose to their assigned tents. Each step seemed orchestrated, blending into a symphony of determination and resilience. The resounding blows of the hammers striking metal pegs sent metallic echoes across the open field, resonating with an indomitable spirit.

Aromatic scents infused the air, intermingling to create a sensory tapestry. The freshness of cut grass interwove with the tantalizing aroma of the campfire, merging into a fragrant melange that filled Jabari's senses. The smoke from the cooking fires mingled with the lingering traces of gunpowder, a potent reminder of the forthcoming battle.

Contemplating the complexities of the situation, Jabari couldn't help but feel a profound sense of confusion and betrayal emanating from Balisarda. Once a member of the military, Balisarda had taken a treacherous path, seeking to establish his own kingdom and wield power over the world. This knowledge fueled Jabari's determination to infiltrate and defeat the enemy army, yet the castle before him stood as an imposing barrier, seemingly invincible. Its towering stature exuded an air of impregnability, casting doubt on Jabari's plans. Nevertheless, a flicker of unwavering resolve ignited within him as he pledged to find a way to overcome this seemingly insurmountable challenge and protect the world from Balisarda's grasp.

Abruptly, a cataclysmic roar shattered the tranquility, rending the fabric of silence as it surged through the air. Its sheer force seemed to materialize from nowhere, akin to a celestial thunderclap that reverberated with unyielding might, jolting the very ground beneath Jabari's feet. A tremor coursed through the earth, a seismic pulse heralding the arrival of unfathomable power.

In an instant, the atmosphere burst into flames, and the air throbbed with an electrifying fervor. The heavens above Balisarda's castle became a blazing spectacle, outshining even the moonlight. This celestial phenomenon unfolded before their eyes, a captivating manifestation of unprecedented power. A mighty surge of eighty thousand portals surged forth, ethereal gateways materializing in the vast expanse above the castle, stretching far beyond the military camp.

A tidal wave of fear and chaos crashed upon the soldiers, overwhelming their senses with apprehension. Caught off guard by the relentless clamor and the turbulent vibrations that shook their very essence, their collective consciousness faltered. The sprawling array of portals extended into an awe-inspiring panorama, casting an otherworldly glow that enveloped all who gazed upon them. The resounding echoes accompanying their emergence reverberated with an unfamiliar harmony, an ethereal symphony intertwined with reality.

Unyielding in their procession, the portals continued to unfurl, an unending cascade stretching to the horizon's edge. The deafening clamor crescendoed, transforming into an overwhelming tumult that threatened to shatter the world itself. Amidst this disorienting chaos, the members of the military found themselves adrift, buffeted by confusion. They were at a loss as to the origin of this enigmatic phenomenon, some even mistaking it for the convulsions of an earthquake. Oblivious to the impending cataclysm, their ignorance veiled them in an illusory shield of false security.

The soldier's words congealed in his throat, strangled by a sudden, ear-piercing sound that sliced through the air like a razor-sharp blade propelled by a gust of wind. Its reverberations carried an eerie resonance, akin to the unnerving crackle of gunfire in the distance. In that ephemeral moment, a scene of unfathomable dread unfolded before their disbelieving eyes, transgressing the boundaries of reality. From the intangible depths of an ethereal abyss, a sword materialized, breaching the fragile veil between worlds with a resounding clash that shattered the stillness of the night. Its piercing tip found its mark, impaling the soldier's trembling left hand, eliciting a gut-wrenching, metallic clash that resounded through the air.

With a merciless resolve, the sword cleaved through sinew and bone in an inexorable descent that brooked no resistance. Agony morphed into a symphony of pain, its discordant notes torn from the soldier's tortured vocal cords, rending the very fabric of silence that once cloaked the night. Fear, palpable and suffocating, coiled around his heart like a serpentine vice as his eyes bore witness to the unfolding horror, an abomination of the natural order.

From the very maw of the sword's aperture, a portal yawned open, revealing an unsettling intrusion. Like a nightmarish appendage, a bone emerged, defying the laws of the tangible realm. It surged forth with a violent propulsion, propelled by an otherworldly force that blurred the lines between the possible and the forbidden. Its collision with the soldier's vulnerable chest sent shockwaves reverberating through his being, rattling the very foundations of his existence. A veritable tempest of crimson lifeblood erupted in a frenzied expulsion, as if the air itself had transformed into a malevolent canvas upon which the macabre dance of death was painted. The echoes of a morbid, soul-shattering crack resounded through the veil of silence, a haunting refrain that echoed in the hearts of all who bore witness.

In a grotesque tableau, the soldier's head was wrenched from his shoulders, an act of brutal severance that severed the tenuous thread of life, leaving his body a mere vessel for the encroaching darkness. Time, as if suspended in its eternal march, stretched into infinity, etching a desolate tableau upon the faces of the onlookers. Each second elongated into an interminable torment, as if the very universe held its breath, compelled to bear witness to this grotesque theater of annihilation. A profound stillness descended, suffocating all sound and movement within its icy grasp, as the severed limb plummeted unceremoniously to the unforgiving ground, a testament to the inexorable forces that conspired against mortal existence. The air itself remained heavy with unspoken terror, ensnaring the soldiers in its suffocating tendrils and leaving them paralyzed and shackled to the trepidation that gripped their souls.

The tranquility of the camp shattered in an instant, engulfed by a maelstrom of panic and despair. A primal scream tore through the air, tearing at the very fabric of composure and instilling dread within every heart that dared to beat. It was a sound that transcended mere agony, resonating with the cacophony of metal cleaving through space with lethal velocity.

With Takemikazuchi's wrath unleashed, a tempest of swords cascaded from the heavens, descending upon the hapless targets below. Each blade, a harbinger of doom, materialized through ephemeral portals, their ethereal glow reflecting the sinister intent that animated their metallic forms. The torrential onslaught left no sanctuary untouched, as an indiscriminate rain of deadly weapons beset everything in its path.

Amid the chaos, a valiant soldier, witnessing the savage demise of her comrade, recoiled in horror, her spear slipping from her grasp in a futile attempt to distance herself from the grotesque spectacle. Yet her retreat offered no respite from the fangs of calamity. A searing jolt of agony surged through her right shoulder, jolting her senses and forcing her gaze to the source of torment.

As she turned her ashen face towards her injured shoulder, a macabre tableau of crimson unfolded before her eyes, a rivulet of lifeblood tracing its way down her arm like a morbid tributary. Her body stiffened, muscles taut with dread, as her gaze ascended, drawn inexorably towards the sight that awaited her.

Embedded within the tender flesh of her body, a blade reminiscent of the very instrument that had callously snuffed out her comrade's life lodged itself with a perverse intimacy. A visceral shudder, born of sheer terror, surged through her veins, paralyzing her limbs and rendering her breath a prisoner within the confines of her constricted chest. In the midst of this morbid tableau, time distorted itself, stretching and warping the fabric of reality. The world, once vibrant and tangible, now fades into an ethereal haze, mere background noise to the macabre theater unfolding before her eyes.

Her gaze fixed, unblinking, upon the blade's transformation, the very embodiment of dread personified. A flicker of electric blue, akin to the eerie phosphorescence of a dying star, infused the weapon's once-dormant surface. It crackled with malevolent energy, an incandescent prelude that foreshadowed the imminent activation of its sinister potential. Every fiber of her being recoiled in instinctive repulsion, but she stood transfixed, a hapless witness to her own impending demise.

Within the recesses of her mind, screams of unspeakable agony reverberated, their wretched echoes muffled by the vice-like grip of fear, rendering her voice an impotent prisoner. Her eyes, now dilated orbs of horror, mirrored the abyssal depths of terror that devoured her very soul. They beheld the blade, an instrument of damnation, as it discharged its lethal purpose with callous precision.

A surge of psychic energy, intangible yet malevolent, coalesced into a burgeoning bubble of destruction. Its pulsating core pulsed with an otherworldly intensity, crackling with a sickly light that seared the retinas of any unfortunate soul who dared to look upon it. It swelled, growing with a voracity that defied comprehension, as if drawing sustenance from the very darkness that permeated the air. The bubble quivered, its amorphous form trembling with sick anticipation, until it reached a crescendo of volatility.

Then, in an instant, the cataclysmic detonation ensued.

The air shattered with an earsplitting roar, the concussive force of the explosion rending the fragile fabric of existence itself. The maelstrom of psychic energy erupted, consuming her with merciless voracity. It clawed at her senses, an insidious tempest that sought to unravel her every nerve and atom. Her mortal coil, ill-equipped to withstand the onslaught, disintegrated in a symphony of grotesque disarray.

Bits and pieces of her being scattered like demented confetti, dissolving into the ether as if her essence were naught but a fleeting dream. Her body, once whole and animate, succumbed to the unyielding grip of death, reduced to an ashen specter of her former self. Whispered cries of anguish escaped her lips, a desperate plea swallowed by the tumultuous tempest of chaos and destruction.

At that moment, she became one with the abhorrent symphony of her demise, a tragedy painted in the darkest shades of despair. Her existence, once teeming with vitality, now dissipates into the void, lost to the annals of forgotten souls. And as the echoes of her presence faded, swallowed by the yawning chasm of eternity, all that remained was the lingering scent of dread, an olfactory reminder of a life extinguished in the clutches of merciless psychic energy.

Amidst the tumultuous chaos that engulfed the battlefield, a soldier, a hapless victim in the cruel theater of war, bore witness to the fall of a dreaded sword. It descended from the heavens with an ominous grace, a glimmering harbinger of doom. Its malevolent purpose became all too clear as it found its mark—a merciless trajectory aimed directly at the soldier's fragile form.

Time seemed to slow to a treacherous crawl as the blade, honed with nefarious intent, tore through the air, its lethal trajectory unwavering. A sickening sound filled the soldier's ears—a visceral symphony of bone-crunching impact as the blade sank deep into her defenseless body. Agonizing waves of pain radiated outward from the epicenter of the wound, threatening to consume her very being.

Yet the torment did not end there. The blade, now lodged within her shattered form, exuded an ethereal glow, casting an electric blue hue upon the harrowing tableau. It pulsed with ominous energy, a precursor to the imminent unleashing of its dread power. The air crackled with anticipation, charged with the foreboding knowledge of what was to come.

And then, in a cataclysmic display of malevolence, the sword's true nature was revealed. A torrent of scorching flames erupted from its hilt, engulfing the soldier in a pyre of unrelenting heat. The flames danced with wicked grace, their fervent embrace consuming her flesh as if savoring the sweetest of offerings. They devoured her from within, their insatiable hunger reducing her to a charred and smoldering effigy.

Driven by sheer survival instinct, the soldier, now ablaze with searing flames, mustered every ounce of strength to escape the clutches of her fiery demise. With frantic desperation, she stumbled forward, her body an inferno of agony. Every step was an excruciating battle against the consuming flames that licked at her heels, threatening to consume her entirely.

The air around her crackled with the smell of burning flesh—a sickening blend of charred skin and singed hair that assaulted her senses. Her uniform, once a symbol of order and protection, now clung to her like a second skin, aflame and disintegrating with every stride. Her anguished cries merged with the crackling of the inferno, creating a haunting chorus of pain and desperation.

Her vision blurred, and tears streamed down her charred cheeks as she fought against the suffocating blanket of fire. Her breath came in ragged gasps; her lungs were filled with acrid smoke that threatened to choke her very life away. Each step was a testament to her unyielding will, the searing pain serving as a constant reminder of the fleeting moments of life slipping through her grasp.

But alas, the flames proved relentless and unyielding in their pursuit of destruction. Her strength waned, and her body succumbed to the merciless assault of the inferno. With one final surge of determination, she collapsed to the ground, her body a writhing pyre of suffering. The battlefield, adorned with the scars of unyielding conflict, bore witness to this gruesome spectacle—a soldier running on the precipice of oblivion, consumed by the merciless flames.

Thus, in the midst of the macabre chaos, the soldier's life was claimed, extinguished by the malevolent might of the sword and the insatiable hunger of the engulfing fire. It had served its purpose, leaving behind a trail of carnage and despair—a visceral testament to the depths of darkness to which humanity can descend. And as the flames receded, the battlefield remained etched with the haunting specter of a fallen soul, forever marked by the tragedy and horror of her fiery demise.

As a soldier desperately evaded the onslaught of raining swords, his heart pounded in his chest, a relentless drumbeat of fear and adrenaline. Each step he took was fraught with urgency, his muscles straining with the desperate hope of survival. His eyes scanned the chaotic battlefield, searching for a momentary respite, a fleeting sanctuary from the imminent danger.

But fate, in its cruel design, conspired against him. With a thunderous crash, the malevolent sword, a sinister embodiment of devastation, found its mark. The soldier's breath hitched in his throat as he felt the piercing impact, a searing pain that shot through his body like a thousand needles. In that dreadful instant, his valiant efforts to evade the blade had been in vain, and he now stood at the mercy of its merciless power.

Thoughts and emotions raced through the soldier's mind in a whirlwind of regret, longing, and unfulfilled dreams. Amidst the chaos and torment, his thoughts flitted to the faces of his loved ones left behind—a poignant tapestry of memories etched with love and longing. His parents, whose nurturing presence had shaped his very being, His devoted wife, whose unwavering support had been his anchor through life's storms, And his five children, innocent souls whose laughter and joy had breathed purpose into his existence. In that fleeting moment, his heart ached with a profound yearning, a desire to hold them close one last time, to assure them of his undying love.

Meanwhile, the sword that had become his grim reaper pulsated with an eerie brilliance. Its hilt, forged from a sinister alloy of obsidian and onyx, exuded an otherworldly aura. Intricate runes, etched in a language long forgotten, adorned its surface, hinting at an ancient and dark power. The blade itself, honed to a lethal edge, seemed to possess a sinister sentience, thirsting for the life force of its victims.

With each passing second, the sword's electric blue glow intensified, a malevolent glow that signaled the impending activation of its devastating power. The air crackled with anticipation, charged with an energy that seemed to defy comprehension. Bolts of lightning danced along its surface, casting an eerie glow upon the soldier's anguished face.

In his final moments, the soldier's senses became heightened, every sensation amplified in the face of his impending doom. The searing pain radiating from the wound pulsed like a relentless inferno, overwhelming his consciousness. The acrid stench of burnt flesh mingled with the metallic tang of blood, assaulting his nostrils and filling his every breath. He could taste the bitterness of fear and regret, mingled with the metallic residue of imminent demise.

And then, with a cataclysmic surge of voltage, the sword unleashed its ultimate power. The soldier's body, already battered and broken, was engulfed in a blinding maelstrom of electrical fury. In that blinding moment, his thoughts and existence were obliterated, and his body was torn asunder in a final explosion of agony.

Fragments of him were scattered in a gruesome display, his limbs flung in disparate directions. In his final moments, as his body was torn apart, the soldier's thoughts and yearnings dissolved into the chaotic abyss. The faces of his loved ones remained etched in his fading consciousness, a bittersweet farewell to a life abruptly extinguished.

***

The cutting words reverberated within the chambers of Jabari's mind, resonating with a searing clarity that made it seem as if Balisarda himself stood before him. The fiery rage surged through his veins, a scorching torrent threatening to engulf him completely. Swiftly, he turned, his searching eyes desperate to locate the source of the voice, only to find emptiness, a void where Balisarda should have been.

"You shall meet your end here, dear Jabari. I guarantee it," the voice taunted, drawing nearer, its insidious presence creeping into the depths of his consciousness. Each word dripped with malice, leaving a bitter taste in the air, akin to the hiss of a venomous serpent. Determined to shield himself from the relentless assault on his senses, Jabari squeezed his eyes shut, but the voice persisted, echoing unabated and weaving an inescapable web around his mind.

Summoning every ounce of resolve, Jabari inhaled deeply, seeking solace within the recesses of his own breath. He knew, in the depths of his being, that Balisarda's spectral apparition was but a figment of his tortured imagination. Yet the voice remained, an ethereal spectre seeping from the very fabric of existence, its tendrils extending into every corner of his consciousness.

With trepidation weighing heavily on him, Jabari opened his eyes, confronted by the grim tableau before him. The new military encampment, once a bastion of order and purpose, now stood enshrouded in chaos and disarray. Blades descended from the heavens, raining down upon the beleaguered soldiers like a merciless tempest. The cries of the wounded merged with the terrified screams of those still fighting, mingling in a symphony of despair that clawed at Jabari's senses.

Within the depths of his mind, clarity surfaced. The weight of his responsibility bore down upon his shoulders; should he falter, the lives of his comrades would be extinguished like fragile flames snuffed out by an unrelenting gale. Each step forward brought forth an intensified voice, its tone dripping with derision.

"Your fate is sealed, Jabari. There is no escape from the wrath that awaits you," the voice whispered, its insidious tendrils coiling around his consciousness, constricting his very breath. Doubt wormed its way into his thoughts, a chilling fear threatening to consume him from within.

The familiar image of Jabari, unyielding and resolute, was shattered in the face of this malevolent apparition. Tremors of trepidation pulsed through his chest, threatening to unravel his very core. The facade he had painstakingly constructed, the embodiment of unwavering strength, crumbled under the weight of these haunting hallucinations, revealing the vulnerability that lay dormant beneath.

"I refuse to cower before you!" Jabari's declaration reverberated through the chaos, his voice resonating with newfound determination. Yet, even as his words echoed into the abyss, the voice persisted—an ethereal chuckle of scorn that seemed to mock his unyielding resolve.

"Let us put your bravery to the ultimate test," the voice taunted, gradually fading away, leaving behind an eerie silence that hung heavy in the air.

As Jabari's heart thundered in his chest, the vision of his friends being slain flashed through his mind, igniting a burning desire to protect them. With renewed strength, he clenched his fists, determined to do whatever it took to keep his fellow soldiers safe.

But what did the voice mean? Could there truly be a way to stop the onslaught of the swords falling like rain from the skies?

With the voices fading, the oppressive gloom began to recede, the suffocating darkness retreating as the sunlight shone through the windows, bathing the battlefield in a golden glow. Jabari squinted his eyes against the bright glare, trying desperately to pierce the murky veil of confusion shrouding his mind. He glanced about, taking in every detail, desperate for any clues to help him understand what was happening. And yet, the more he tried to make sense of it all, the less he understood.