The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 351

Chapter 351: Declaration

Kreston invaded Dorchester and reached the capital city on the 1st of December. No declaration of war, nothing. They strolled in without justification. The day would soon become a pivoting point in the chronicles of Hidros. The day change occurred, the day tragedy struck and a day Staxius would forever torment.

‘W-why,’ thought Julius with an arm torn off. The castle burnt; numerous bodies laid on the ground. Ayleth and her husband died arm in arm. The inside was exposed to the outside. Tanks and trucks could be seen climbing in the distance. Up above, planes flew and threw bombs over critical points. None could have planned or reacted. Kreston was smart in hiding its intent. A masterful display of intellect, Dorchester was blind-sided.

‘This can’t be true,’ Undrar returned to a massacre. Companions, friends, and families killed. The one responsible sat on the alter and hummed. She sat as if a kindergarten girl swaying left to right.

“How could you?”

“Are you speaking to me?” she turned innocently, “-justice had to be served. The Pope said that heathens who didn’t follow our god were infecting and damaging our life. Hence, our declaration of war,” landing with a hop, “-you’re different,” she walked around Undrar eyeing from top to bottom. “Yes, you’re very much different,” she said as if to confirm. “A dragon, a god, a dragon god? I feel it, you’re strong,” she winked.

“Is that the only reason?” fired Undrar, “-were these people nothing to you?”

“Listen,” she paused with a cold expression, “-I shan’t argue about why or how the people lived. There was justice to be delivered, thus my involvement,” stopped to stare the lifeless bodies. “The blue-haired girl and that blond one, they’re still alive. I’m not heartless,” spoken righteously, “-there’s a slim chance to save them.” She jumped over to her carnage, “-the Duke of Dorchester is dead, I wonder who’ll be his heir,” breathing a laugh. “Lady Dragon, take those who survive for they were chosen to live. Dorchester is officially under our control.”

.....

“Who are you?”

“Archangel of Clarity, Erna. I preside over life and death.”

“Life and death, you say,” a dark-aura enveloped the broken castle, “-how presumptuous,” she sprouted wings. Blond hair turned black, eyes turned white, “-Death is under my master’s rule. He’s the only one who presides over death.”

“Didn’t people teach you lying is a bad habit?” snickered Erna.

“Don’t get cocky,” Viola instantly teleported behind the angel with a finger on the latter’s neck.

“Impressive,” she smiled, “-are you going to kill me?” she glanced over the shoulder.

“No,” she took a step back and pressed her hands, “-I rather not sully my hands.” A barrier conjured from her outwards. It pushed the angel away, “-these people that you’ve killed. They were close allies of someone you don’t want to piss off. Kreston made their move. When this news hits; it would not surprise me if the whole Province is destroyed.”

“If you’re referring to Arda, that province is under Kreston’s thumb as well. The monarchs were pretty easy to control. We have saints already planning to convert the whole country into a land of faithful. Our god will always win.”

“Oh no,” chuckled Undrar, “-poor child, I feel pity,” the tightness in her chest was hidden by bravado. “What you speak of is not strength. A fake illusion of power. Kreston, thou hath blown the trumpet of he who controls the pathway to Elysium. Five years, I give you five years,” she hovered with the bodies levitating beside, “-five years, that’s all he’ll need,” she vanished in a blink.

“Five years,” laughed the Archangel with a town burning in flame. Cries of the living, the smell of iron, the cries of those being assaulted. War began, the holy invasion of Kreston.

Only a few guests managed to survive and escape. Amongst them, the Prince Consort. He soon joined with Undrar who had brought the bodies of Silver Guardians, the groom, and Millicent. Julius, Fenrir, and Autumn were barely alive.

“I’ll fly them to the hospital in Claireville. Doctor Jona will save them,” parted on Savaview bridge, she flapped away. A heart in peril, the Bringer of Death was jaded. She had witnessed death plenty o’ time. Not in this case, her heart ached, her mind confused and the chest tight. A sunken feeling, one that could be related to a low echoy clang. ‘Erna isn’t someone to be trifled with.’ Her bravado was for good reason. ‘If I had attempted her life, she would have taken the one’s breathing. The dead can’t be brought back to life. Those who still quench desperately must be given a chance. Don’t worry, Julius, I’ll make sure thou live.’ She flew through the clouds and rain till the hospital. The journey was made in 10 minutes. Teleporting here to there and using her mana fully, they arrived. A hospital left baffled, Jona was soon overwhelmed by the critical patients.

On the way back, Pier’s mind shut. He didn’t want to acknowledge the truth that his friends were gone. The place where once peace and harmony were supreme. An elated atmosphere many inhabitants yearned. The car drove, the windows raised, he held his phone in a tremble. It was hard to speak let alone breathe. Claustrophobic to the sudden change, the mind thought of one thing, call Gallienne. ‘Fear isn’t an option,’ biting the side of his lips, the phone dialed.

“Gallienne, listen,” he spoke sharply, “-Kreston has declared war.”

“WHAT?” the word resounded across her chest to her feet. The heart pulsed louder, she who sat nearly stumbled. “Are you safe, what happened?” she stood with a petrified look.

“N-no...” the tone lowered to a sob, “-everyone’s dead. Dorchester is lost, the Silver Guardians are gone... THEY’RE DEAD, YOU HEAR, DEAD!” the poor man slammed the empty seat cushion in frustration.

“Are you ok?” asked the driver startled by the outburst. No response came, only a woeful stare to the mirror.

“Piers, listen...”

“...”

“Ok good,” she breathed to gather her mind, “-get to the capital as soon as possible,” a high-pitched beep signaled the call ending.

‘I didn’t expect them to attack so fast,’ laid back, the queen thought of what was to come. ‘They’ve taken Dorchester by force. What’s the intent, are they planning to strike the capital. We might have to retake Castle Garsley or shut off Savaview bridge. I doubt they’ll march into Oxshield this early. I suppose my way of handling the issue was a bit much,’ spun the stare outside, ‘-the silver guardians are dead. On Ayleth’s marriage day no less. Whatever happens, Dorchester is lost.’

“Theodore,” she called after which the butler appeared.

“Rare of you to call mine name, how may I serve, majesty?”

“Call the General and bring Raulf to the round table. War is upon us.”

“Yes, majesty,” he dashed off shocked by the news. In less than a few minutes, the door to a secret room opened. One unused, one opened only if the state was in danger. Situated in the sanctity of an elevated circular tower towards the back, it gave onto the place where Staxius and Raulf fought once. Inside, a circular table with a map on board as well as logistical instruments.

The feel of the crisis had the castle in a state of unrest. The maids were quick on the gossip. Nobles scouring the halls were intrigued by the news.

“We’re here,” said Raulf with a differing attitude. The massive door locked with another man in uniform. General Noland, a man already past his fifties. One who had served countless times in the Imperial City. Wars on the borders, settling dispute nations and such, he was revered as an intellect. A genius born only a few centuries. Despite his fame, the Emperor saw it fit to have the man transferred to Hidros. As for the rumors, it ranged from scandalous to treasonous.

“Majesty,” spoke the General with a whisper, age had taken to his vocal cords, “-why have you called us?”

“Well,” sat in front of a map, “-we’re in a state of war.”

“Has Kreston made his move?” guessed Noland.

“Impressive,” complimented Gallienne, “-yes. Kreston invaded Dorchester without warning. They’ve claimed the capital. I was relayed this information by the prince.”

“We should act fast,” interjected Raulf, -should they take Savaview bridge, the situation will be dire.”

“Yes, I understand that,” she turned to Noland, “-what do you think?”

“Raise the army from the Goldberg Dukedom,” he said confidently, “-they’re closer to the site. Have them reinforce the borders. Let’s move fast, they hold the advantage, we must slow the pace.” Flicked, the table displayed the map; she inputted information on what had been taken.

“Majesty,” spoke Noland once more, “-we need a relay. We’re fogged, getting blinded will be detrimental.”

“There’s a problem,” interjected Raulf. “Plaustan,” he pointed, “-Kreston could invade from the sea.”

“No need to worry,” smiled Gallienne, “-Plaustan has a Guardian Angel of their own.”

“Still, let’s send a Platoon just in case.”

*Clang,* the sound of swords clashing, arrows fired, spells cast. A battlefield, a fight for reclamation. ‘What’s this sudden feeling of dread,’ thought Staxius.

“MASTER,” an arrow dug into his chest.

“MAJESTY,” screamed Oenus with the whole team facing away from the enemy.

“Fight,” he pulled nonchalantly, “-don’t ever turn your backs,” a gust of wind blew. Five Frost Giants stood beheaded with him in the middle. Awed, the fighting resumed. The expedition reached the third checkpoint. A dungeon was built into the side of the mountain. Tis was the only way to the four. None had explored nor been here for decades. Traps, monsters, the unknown. Rasu thought it best to slowly investigate the ruins.

‘Why am I remembering that nightmare all of a sudden?’ he leaned against a mossy stone-bricked wall. The floor was damp from droplets of water. Slight cracks, rusty gates, the stench of rotten flesh – the perfect ingredients for a malady.

“Are you ok?” asked Intherna. A squeal followed behind as Oenus killed the last monster. Ashy, they changed into drops. Coins and items which Rasu held.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, “-just remembering stuff.”

“What’s this?” asked the curious Kearen playing with an intricate lock system.

“Don’t play with that,” urged Magra with Achilles slightly gazing at what they did.

*CLICK,* “-LOOK IT WORKED!” she exclaimed.

*PANG,* a giant-ax swung straight for Staxius’s head. He pinched it to a stop. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“N-no,” her eyes opened wide, “-wasn’t me,” she looked away.

At the borders of Arda and Oxshield, a platoon of soldiers was sent from General Niroz. Done behind Xula’s back, she had no control over the matter. The Saints were hard at work usurping claims to land under the nobles’ noses. They didn’t care the least about what to do nor what would happen. With Kreston inside Dorchester; the army from Arda would meet the Archangel’s army. Missioned to create a rally point and ease of access; Arda’s secluded nature would be harmed. A speck of resistance had made themselves known to the shadows. Spearheaded by Haru and the guild leaders, they targeted the saints. Currently weak and without allies, it would take more than a few words of patriotism to have an uprising. Xula was secretly hoping for said opportunity. War, whether civil or not, would stop the Saints. In that endeavor, she continued to play along and be as harsh as possible. To incite hatred and anger in the hearts of many, contempt. Becoming the enemy for hate allied people more than anything.

“Come on everyone,” spoke Staxius inside the moldy dungeon, “-let’s move. The fight is yet to be complete.”

“Gergusser, why hasn’t Nelpha returned. I explicitly told her to kill the pesky adventurers,” growled a heavy voice up above the clouds

“My liege, Nelpha has perished in the battle of Leon Fortress. Our forces were wiped by a single man; reports say he even captured the Griffin.”

“How troublesome,” it returned.

“Indeed,” stared Eira with heterochromatic eyes. Blue and red, two sides of the same coin; Lady of Ice and the Princess of Arda.