Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

Chapter 65: Titans Landing

[? I Want to Know What Love Is – FOREIGNER.]

• THE FALL OF THE CAPITOL

The Titans which arose from the depths of the Cold Sea, made the vast waters boil a raging crimson as a pit in a volcano. These morbid gargantuan beasts, numbering scores of ghoulish sinister faces moved to the shores. Huge feet crushed the ships at the ports, flattening the naval ramparts like they were but flakes in the snow.

In the lead of the fierce Titans was the Leviathan, the cursed one of old. His deathly visage made many stop and stare, stricken in fear. As large as the Empire's fucking castle, he was half devil and half serpent. With its serrated and mighty tail, it sent the Bell Tower hurling off the rugged cliffs and into the boiling sea.

A great dragon-like behemoth but with wings that poured green acid, melting skin off bones spewed great phlegm of the corrosive poison. People screamed everywhere on the beaches, reduced to nothing but vaporized steaming fleshbags. The dragon was accompanied by another that poured raging [Hellfire]. The dark clouds smoked scarlet with thrashes of lightning at their frightful ascent.

"Have mercy!" One tower guard gesticulated.

"May the Martyr be swift in claiming mine soul," some other Templar monk on his knees with his hands to his breast.

"Fuck you, slimy ugly bastards!" A [Rank A] Gold Knight went hacking at the Leviathan's red feet. A single claw on the serpentine heel was taller than he. The beast shook his arduous strike like one would swat a persistent flea. And the talon of his big toe sliced cleanly the Knight's head off his shoulder. His helmet bounced off in the opposite direction to the sailing head.

The Titans went on the crush the hundreds of defenseless people. They stamped a great many to death—sometimes even unknowingly. Their sheer size meant they would step on some fleeing person each step. The beach was soon red and pungent with human tripe, flattened corpses, and blood drizzled from the black skies. Even the crows feared to swoop in for the feast.

The Titans were unmerciful. Mighty fortresses on the shores were useless to their godless might. The surviving sentinels and soldiers forsook their posts, swiftly mounting horses that rode with breakneck speed to the high distant gates of the Capitol. The Titans went in for pursuit. With a horrendous screech, the Leviathan led his evil horde onward to the crest and citadel of Eldoria.

Giselle watched the approaching terror from a high window of the castle.

"'Tis the end," she heard Cordelia whisper in from her side. "At least we'll be together in death."

Giselle remained mute. Petrified. She clutched to the drapes with pale fingers. The fey Queen had no fantasies that this was a war they could win. The Titans incoming, just few miles away from stomping her Capitol to smithereens as they did the beach, were taller than the tallest turrets on her palace. When Cordelia took her hand and squeezed, she squeezed back.

A comfort, in the face of death.

Giselle had given what orders she could.

Thousands of fearful citizens, laden with nothing more than the clothes on their backs, were storming the gates of the Capitol. It was a rage of tens of hundreds of people, tides of magical factions mixed in torso to torso under the black skies, so desperate to get in that some forgot their own kids to the flood of masses.

After the initial guard party sent to instill decorum had being stomped to death by the rushing mob, the others had retreated to the tops of the watchtowers and let the people come in as they saw fit.

Giselle's eyes flitted from the plunging masses to the Titans.

"If the stampede doesn't kill half of them, the Titans will. I suppose they are angrier because we enslaved their children. Fucking Nephilims. God help us, Delia. God help us all!"

Giselle could only stare in horror as the Titans marched right into the fray of struggling people. Her watchtower guards loosed their giant [Hallowed] arrows, but it was nothing more than a peck against the Titans cheeks. The mob at the gates looked up in frightful unison just as the mighty hooves of a [Gurnlak Centaur], a severe mutation of a 300ft demon, clopped them to bloody pieces.

SPLAT!

Crimson painted over the gold on the gates. In mere seconds of their entry into the Capitol, severed limbs, headless bodies, impaled heads were strewn all about the place. Building were torn down. The beautiful skyline of Eldoria tainted in destruction. Gutters of the undercity ran red with fresh blood. All over, people just waited to die.

What else could they do?

There was no hope for a savior. For as a Sphinx once riddled, "What is greater than the gods, and more evil than the Titans?"

Nothing. The simple answer—nothing.

NOTHING was greater than the gods, and NOTHING viler than the Titans.

The ugly, malformed juggernauts released their offspring which were being held in a [Mystic Pool] cage close to the Highfather's temple. The blue Nephilims eagerly jumped into the fray. Free of their chains, the lesser giants sought among the ruins of the Capitol those hiding to pillage and rape. The great cathedral of the Martyr fell.

A thousand monks flattened under the ruckus of ancient brown bricks. Their collective blood leaked out cracks as a red river running over and around other flattened corpses, before their Queen's wide, saucer eyes.

Giselle had initially given the order for all noble Lords to open their mansions and estates and bastions and basically everything in their signories to the poorer folk. Wartime was no time to be stingy with hospitality. She herself had opened the palace walls to as many who could flock in. But even now, as she peered out her little window, all it seemed was for nothing:

The Lord's District, the whole of it was but a vast empty lot of collapsed buildings. She couldn't even begin with the bodies.

BOOM!

The thunder of a massive hit to the castle sent her spiralling back from the window. The drapes fell. Silence reigned, just for a split second. Her heart was a racehorse's power as she clung to Cordelia like a lifeline. She heard scraping sounds above them and a moment later, the top of the castle; roof and all, was torn away.

Haloes of darkness and the grim skies above fell on her as they met with open air.

Giselle lifted her scared pupils and looked upon the gigantic hand that had pulled off half her home.

It was the Leviathan's hollow red eyes that stared down at her. It glowed like orbs of weird twin suns against the gloomy firmament. A cold wind and gashes of saliva hit her from it mouth. Up close, the beast's frothing nose was larger than her entire form.

Giselle and Cordelia shivered together.

They now stood alone, best friends, on the single standing high thing Giselle could see as far out as she looked in her Empire. How ironic it was that the apocalyptic sight reminded her of Frostholm. She quickly noticed though the silhouettes of two voluptuous women standing atop the Leviathan's scaly head.

Both of them had adorned horns but one was taller and curvier. She couldn't fully make them out in the shadows cast by the unholiness of the heavens but she could tell they were of [The Fallen], that much was evident. The taller one glowed with a rich purple aura. The other with a savage red. Their gazes pinned her several feet below.

The Leviathan's face was about forty feet long as it huffed and puffed in front of Giselle.

"YAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Someone came running out from behind a shattered boulder. It was Ser Romulus. Giselle was already sorry for him when he leaped in the air with a mighty valorous shout. He threw off his [Epic] ivory javelin with all its might. It bounced off the Leviathan's right eye. The monster didn't even blink.

Giselle sighed.

The next second, a passing wyvern spilt Ser Romulus in half with its fiery laser eyes. The twin beams cut the Knight down, right at the seam of his spine, from top of his hairline to the pucker of his asshole. The shout of valor shut abruptly from his lips. By the time Ser Romulus was crashing back down to earth, he did so as a corpse—in divided halves.

Cordelia gasped and shut her eyes tightly. Giselle gritted her teeth.

Ser Romulus did not know: chivalry had its limits.

The two shadowed females on the Leviathan's great head hopped down. Though it was more of floating to Giselle as they jumped several feet of cold air like taking a step. They appeared right in front of her and she gasped. She stood half their height—even the shorter red one.

"Lilith?" the fey Queen felt her jaw drop.

No? It couldn't be.