Ch. 2.40 | A Colossal Issue
PoV: Sanya, Jawdat Of-Khayrat, Barakat
Sanya sighed. Would she get any moments of peace at all? It was just one world-ending day right after another.
Well, she supposed one night and her morning were a couple moments of peace. Thus, she would beseech, uhh, whatever higher powers there be—if any—to hold off the Outworld invasion for, like, ever? Maybe those “higher powers” were the eldritch entities?
Like, would it kill the eldritch entities to wait another day? Or maybe a week? Or . . . months? Maybe they could come back in a century? When Sanya was dead and it would be someone else's problem to stop? . . .
Her [Eldritch Sense] had picked up an entity in Glorestra and two in Hope. There were even more showing up in further cities. Some of the ones down south, deeper into the Coalescence might be under attack.
A cavernous city was being attacked, too. Was that Subturrier?
Oh—make that two entities in Glorestra. Another one just emerged from the Outworld and into reality.
“How do we want to divide these up?” Sanya asked Esmat.
The two of them stood in the guild hall. The place had cleared out as the mages had rushed out to attack the entities that had emerged above Calderae.
There were three of them.
The rest of the inner circle was still here, minus Aisha and Fazl. So, Lania, Nadiyya, and Mai. Sanya knew by now that Calinichia was lurking somewhere within earshot.
Lania stepped up to Sanya and Esmat. Her pale fingers fidgeted, her gaze downcast. “Um . . . This is going to sound crazy, but, trust me. Leave Calderae to me, alright? Use your teleports or whatever to save the other cities.”
Sanya turned to Lania with her mouth hanging open. “I don't trust you. I'm sorry, but there's no way—” Her posture looked entirely unconfident, too. Did she even believe her own words?
Anyway, where had she gotten the power to be able to stand against the entities? There were only two people with that power and from one source—Sanya and Esmat, because they had eldritch parasites and had taken over the hatched forms for themselves.
“I can,” Lania said with newfound resolve.
“She is able,” Calinichia said once her bat form morphed into her human form.
Well . . . okay. Sanya . . . trusted Calinichia's judgment. If the two of them believed Lania could do it, then she would entrust it to Lania. If her decision would be the one to destroy Calderae, then so be it. Sanya and Esmat had a large load of entities on their hands.
“Okay . . . Sure. Whatever,” Sanya turned back towards Esmat. “I take Hope and Subturrier. You take Glorestra and, um . . .? There's two randomly in the wilderness. Those can be low priority. You take Coalescence cities and I'll take New Kanimaw and Ranyoris?”
“That's fine. Let's stop wasting time with this.”
Sanya nodded. Going immediately was probably a very wise decision.
No more words were shared. Sanya did not wait for anything. The eldritch entities would spare no second to sate their endless hunger. The longer she lingered, the more lives would be lost. Ignore the fact that those lives could become more fuel for Sanya to kill more eldritch entities. So, like, would it really be that bad if she waited one or two more seconds?
Maybe she should crush that line of thinking and shove it as far back as she could? . . .
She tore through reality and entered Subturrier first.
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Jawdat Of-Khayrat, member of the New Glorestran council, chosen in Honored Zulfaqar's will, ran for his life.
He has no magic—not that it would do him any good. He had seen mages attack the otherworldly monsters to no avail. There was no hope for humanity.
A massive appendage crashed through a street of buildings, leveling them with ease. The stone roared as walls and ceilings tumbled down. People screamed as earth crushed them, or as they ran from the eldritch entity.
It was not midday yet. Glorestra had not even gotten a single day to breathe—to pick up the pieces from the last attack. Just the day before, towards the afternoon, some great monster had emerged from the lake and started wreaking havoc. Many fishermen had lost their lives, and a part of the old wall had fallen. It had made its way into some part of new Glorestra and destroyed a dozen buildings.
Then, a gray individual arrived and destroyed it after a long battle. They disappeared after, not lingering for even a moment.
The council urged caution with the lake—to not even take boats upon its surface. They had moved as many off the walls as they could and into temporary shelters.
Jawdat and the other officials under the banner of Coalescence wanted to do better than its predecessors. This new acquisition would be a thriving place, and the people of Glorestra would thank Honored Zulfaqar's sacrifice for centuries to come.
Hah . . . if any of them even had centuries to live. Despite their best efforts, they had failed to defeat the Voidwitch, and she had opened the portals and heralded the eldritch entities.
No matter that the one to defeat the monster here might have been Esmat, who had been only a notch down on the priority target list. It was a might, after all. It could have been someone else.
Ignore the rumors spreading around that the Voidwitch had killed five eldritch entities the other day. Why would she kill the things she brought? Maybe she was siphoning their power or something? Of-Jinan was a Necrotic mage, maybe the Voidwitch was, too.
And so Jawdat Of-Khayrat ran with his metaphorical tail between his legs. Run to fight another day. He could not serve his people from the grave.
The streets had been forlorn in the hours before this. Everyone had holed up in their homes, too scared to emerge and live their lives.
This was the legacy of the Voidwitch. Good people cowering in their homes from the monsters she had released, until they came to destroy their communities. Then, they would run with nothing but the clothes on their backs, with no home to go to or come back to.
The legacy of the Voidwitch would be an empty world of ruins.
Just before this, Jawdat, personally, had been going to make sure the displaced were seeing medical treatment and were as comfortable as possible. Rulers should walk among their people and to make sure their needs are tended to. To become familiar—a comfortable presence with which to depend on, for they will carry out missives so that the people's lives are better off.
Now, Jawdat and the thirty-thousand people that still called Glorestra home, would no longer do so. He would join the ranks of the misfortunes and the unhoused.
How many of that thirty-thousand would be alive once these eldritch entities were through?
Jawdat ran, trying his hardest not to trip on his aristocratic robes. Normally, this would be embarrassing and undignified. Now? It didn't matter—his life was on the line.
Another crash sounded behind him, and another cluster of buildings became rubble.
Jawdat did not look back. He did not see the entity. It was not even specifically chasing him, but it felt like it.
And then the sky cracked in front of him, just outside the final buildings of New Glorestra.
Crack. Snap. Shatter.
Another writhing entity emerged and crushed the buildings on the outermost edge of Glorestra.
Jawdat cursed, shock and horror plastered on his face. He swerved into the nearest alley, not wanting to get anywhere near that horrible beast.
And then—suddenly—an appendage swung through a line of houses, like an ax to a tree. There was futility in reacting to the swings. The entities were simply too fast for the human mind to react and the body to move.
That appendage connected with Jawdat, and the power of the limb broke his body immediately upon impact, and then sent him thrown towards a distant wall, where his speed turned him into red paste.
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Barakat watched as Hope turned into a smoking ruin. Every building just west of the Academy lay in ruins. The carefully planned out streets and perfect grids had turned into a field of broken stones and thatch thrown everywhere. Corpses stuck out of the piles of rocks, gray and shriveled with torn clothes. The occasional arm or foot could be seen sticking out from the sudden graves.
Two entities, much larger and stronger than the ones of the previous day, completely annihilated Hope.
The entities were probably only minutes away from turning the Academy into ruins. Would they touch the remains of the ancient cathedral too?
It was a beautiful thing. It had been ghostly beneath the tempest—mysterious . . . melancholy. A remnant of something grand, when by time and years, now neglected and forgotten.
It stood tall, shading the many buildings of the Academy campus. Somewhere under it, the doors to the monastery-turned-academy sat. Those halls were now abandoned to the furnishings above.
Barakat watched as the last of the brave mages tried their best to stave off the entities.
Their best was nothing.
They slowly dropped as the entities made their arbitrary paths. They did not target the mages. They did not need to. The best mages stationed in Hope could not do so much as poke the entities.
Regrettably, where was Sanya or Esmat when they were needed?
. . .
It was selfish of Barakat. Many more places were probably being overrun by these entities. Sanya and Esmat would have to pick their battles.
That being said, why couldn't they pick Hope? The next generation of great mages was being raised here. There were hundreds of teenagers and other people here that deserved to be kept safe, so that humanity could have a future.
“Great mages” . . . Maybe that was a joke, now? These mages could do nothing against the entities from beyond the world.
Still. Barakat was proud of what these young mages had learned so far. Aisha Of-Jinan had sent in copies of some of the acquisitioned grimoires for the students to study.
They were not bound by just the four—Aeolian, Thermal, Temporal, or Spatial. There was so much more they could learn.
It would all be useless. It would all be forgotten.
There would be no world for these kids to grow up in. No world to see their magic. There would be no more kids for whatever remained of the world. Both simply would not exist.
Appendages continued to devastate the city. Barakat continued to watch . . . what was he to do? The end of the world was peculiarly mesmerizing. Or was it his fear that locked him in place? Wasn't he the kind to run away in the face of adversity?
The entities did not use magic. A green aura continued to get drawn towards them as they killed. That must be a key to something. Their nature or a weakness or—
Who was Barakat kidding? These things had no weakness. None that a mere mortal like him could be able to abuse.
Was Sanya a mortal? Were eldritch entities mortal? Maybe Barakat needed a better term to use.
A tear opened up in reality, right by the first of the two entities. An ethereal, gray figure emerged from it. She wore clothes that looked like they were for a date.
A stark contrast to the fact that she had just obliterated the entity in mere seconds.
It was there . . . and then . . . it was fading away. All the green aura began to flow towards Sanya like great rivers. Whatever spell she had cast, she was much too far away for Barakat to hear. Aeolian magic would not so easily manipulate the winds as to carry her words over to Barakat.
He doubted he would even be able to process whatever spell she used to so quickly and utterly end the being from another world.
Barakat shook his head, arms crossed. He both praised Sanya and judged her. She was so powerful . . . a monster of strength. Yet, how could she be so slow to get here? Why was she . . . well . . . her? Couldn't it have been Barakat with the power to save the world? Why her? What had he done to deserve this?
A blink of an eye, and Sanya had found her way next to the other entity.
She felled that one too, as if stepping on an ant.
As quickly as she had arrived, she disappeared.
Barakat had been so deep in thought that he almost missed Sanya's actions. One thing immediately after the next. Each one barely took seconds. No pause. No room for breath.
She was quick, but not quick enough. Hope had still been devastated. When would this end? . . .
If they all kept up this same pace, Hope would be gone by tomorrow. Barakat hadn't even seen the other cities yet. How was Glorestra? How was Calderae? Were any of those cities even standing, still?
How much longer until Sanya and Esmat dropped from exhaustion or were bested by the entities? How much longer until their only, scrabbling line of defense perished?
Even if they lived, would they still be able to outpace the destruction being caused?
Would this be a quick death? Or a slow demise as the world sunk into its marked grave?