[Volume 4: Poison Paradise]
[2 Months Later]
A towering figure in long red robes walked through the broken land with a leisurely stride. The fabric of his many layers of red robes dragged against the dirt and stone, deforming in unnatural waves as six metal legs poked out and moved in eerie harmony. Beneath the robe, twelve mechanical arms occasionally shifted in and out of sight, clicking and hissing like restless serpents beneath a red curtain.
He advanced through excavated terrain.
He stood over four meters tall, and every step he took made the ground tremble with weight.
It had been two months since the Grand Gathering had ended in its explosive collapse. After the fall of the Sky Tower, the world was thrown into momentary chaos. Those who had already left for the west refused to return, but those trapped inside the secret realm were temporarily sealed.
What was odd was that those outside the city of Imai still weren't clear about what exactly happened.
Some saw it as a bad omen, while others found it a blessing.
There were even rumours that it was simply the process of opening the secret realm, that was how rare secret realms were.
The sky tower even chose to isolate itself temporarily.
Regardless, the world continued to move.
The red-robed giant, Tecelli, moved forward with measured curiosity, his two 'human hands', small compared to the mechanical appendages, were folded neatly behind his back as he studied the excavation site around him.
All around him, the ground had been torn apart.
Massive magitech drills and excavation arms dug through the black clay while intricate arrays of spell circles lit up the valley walls, sealing the entire project from detection.
Hundreds of mercenaries worked tirelessly under the banner of the Mercenary Alliance, drawn from all nine of its branches.
Their voices echoed between the mountains, their movements efficient, almost mechanical for some.
It was a somewhat unsettling display.
The excavation site was located in the far south of the western region's border. The mountains enclosed them like the walls of a tomb, and faint waterfalls fell down the surrounding cliff sides. Despite the heat and the dust, not a single sound escaped the magic barrier that surrounded the operation.
The spell matrix was flawless, and nothing would leave this place alive unless Tecelli, or his companions, allowed it.
He stopped near the edge of a massive and deep trench.
Waves of elemental energy mixed with heavy steam rose from below, flowing out like ethereal waves. It was unusually cold and smelled of burnt stone.
Tecelli's expression did not change, his cold and emotionless eyes scanned the pit.
Beneath the layers of earth, hidden within the kilometer of unearthed ruins, something ancient pulsed faintly with a blue light, the air of lost millennia wafting out.
He lifted one hand and spoke in a mechanical tone.
'Click' "Show me..."
The mercenaries obeyed without question.
-
Tecelli was led down into the trench.
The deeper he descended, the more the air changed. The dry smell of dust was replaced by the faint scent of silver and time, lingering with traces of ancient runes. The walls around him were not rough like normal ruins, instead, one could find densely packed deep runes carved elegantly and still filled with unstopping spiritual energy that slowly mutated the mind.
This was no ordinary place, this was a High Elven settlement.
He passed through a half-excavated archway, its frame woven with geometric lines that somehow formed a perfect circle. Even broken, it held inhuman symmetry, the kind of beauty that only the High Elves could have.
Here, every stone crevasse was fused with silver metal that pulsed gently, almost as if remembering the magic that once filled them with life.
The mercenaries led Tecelli onwards, through the broken heart of the ruins.
Light stones embedded in the walls flickered to life as Tecelli passed, responding faintly to one's presence. A faint whisper hummed from his metallic limbs, as he pulled in his body as best he could.
The deeper they went, the stronger the residual aura became.
The deeper levels opened into a vast corridor.
Tall pillars rose on both sides, carved into the likeness of elven figures that had long disappeared with time. Their faces were calm, almost sorrowful. Their eyes, once filled with embedded hope, were now hollow.
Tecelli's mechanical eyes scanned everything with an almost methodical reverence.
Going deeper.
Between the graceful curves of elven architecture, someone had carved new marks, deep, jagged runes that were not elven at all. They pulsed red and black, eating away at the lingering silver light beneath. Tecelli could tell that this happened after the Elfefalein Empire disappeared.
They arrived before the central 'temple'.
It stood as the last intact structure among the ruins, clear even though it was still buried far more thoroughly than the other buildings. A massive dome of white marble and spiritual stone, its inner ceiling shimmered faintly with fragments of an ancient sky. The once pure carvings were now stained by a deep crimson light that crawled like veins across the surface. The closer one got to the center, the more the eerie red transformed to an ominous black.
On the inner walls were murals depicting the High Elves' final days. The truth was openly displayed on these walls. Text aside, in the center of every mural, a black hand reached down, blotting out the sun, and 'erased' the High Elves one at a time.
For most, this information may be the greatest treasure on the continent.
Tecelli just looked at it slightly longer, before moving on.
The lead mercenary opened a circular hatch that had been uncovered near the altar. Inside was a descending staircase, narrow and spiraling, carved with intertwining lines of silver and gold that disappeared into the darkness below.
Tecelli followed, his heavy steps shaking the fragile steps beneath him. His body contracted just enough to descend, despite his metallic sides still scraping against the walls, he managed to pull himself through with little effort.
The air grew heavy with pressure.
A spiritual energy that had been tainted with something unclean, became more prominent.
Whispers floated through the darkness, not words, no, the echo of a language too ancient for the human mind to hear.
At last, they reached the altar chamber.
The chamber was wide and circular, built in the unmistakable style of the High Elves. Crumbling white stone columns held up the ceiling, meeting at a single point near the top.
The air shimmered faintly, carrying traces of old enchantments that still clung to the stone.
But in the center, something foreign had been entombed.
It looked a little bit like a mechanical spider, anchored into the roof and walls of the chamber. Long, metal pipes pierced deep into the surrounding columns like roots encroaching the earth. Spirit crystals and broken elven runes were embedded along its frame, glowing faintly in the dark.
At first glance, it looked dead, but the light at its core pulsed softly, then again, stronger, and continued to beat like a heart, radiating a rhythm that filled the air with an arcane heat.
From that 'heart' spread countless intertwining streams of elemental energy. They slithered outward like rivers of light, merging and separating in slow, mesmerizing motions. Fire, water, wind, earth, light, and darkness, they all twisted together in an orderly chaos, forming radiant streams that climbed the walls and wrapped around the pillars in a mythical sight.
The High Elven runes engraved in the stone flared briefly as if trying to contain something, but their silver light was fading, even failing. The delicate balance that once defined their craftsmanship was breaking apart, replaced by a violent, unnatural rejection by the elements.
Tecelli stepped forward.
The eyes concealed beneath the curtain of red flashed brightly, reflecting the kaleidoscope of colors swirling around him.
"This really isn't elven," he muttered. "This is… something else."
The intertwining streams bent slightly towards him, almost alive in a way, brushing against his crimson robes like tendrils of light drawn to something familiar.
He spoke, for the first time, in a human voice, clear and crisp, almost young.
It didn't fit his frame.
"Long ago, love drew hate through pursuit. The war that bloomed from that clash destroyed many things… In that long battle, one side drew upon the power of a weapon before time. That weapon rebuilt the landscape in whatever form they desired… It was like the gods' power, through forging."
It was unknown who he was speaking to, but his voice still shocked the surrounding mercenaries.
He raised one of his metal arms from beneath the red curtain and towards the core.
With a pluck, the world paused…
The air trembled.
The floor cracked.
Everything shook.
Tecelli didn't even flinch.
As the device became unstable, he held its heart in his hands.
With an unseen grin, he chuckled, "Clean it up."
The air rippled.
From beneath his crimson robe, six mechanical limbs unfolded like spears, glinting in the flickering red light. The sound of gears turning echoed through the chamber, followed by a faint hum of spiritual energy condensing.
Without another word, Tecelli raised one hand.
The red runes carved across his metal arms began to glow.
The mercenaries hesitated, eyes darting between each other, confused.
"L-Lord Tecelli?" one stammered.
He didn't answer.
Instead, the ground beneath their feet shifted, and small red threads of mental energy seeped out from the cracks, winding upward like hungry serpents searching for flesh. The first man screamed when they wrapped around his ankles. The second didn't even get the chance before his whole body was torn apart.
The others panicked, trying to flee toward the tunnels, but the red-robed members of the Red Hand blocked the exit.
This outburst began all throughout the excavation site above as well, quickly culling everyone who wasn't of the Red Hand.
Tecelli did not intend to allow any of this to leak out.
As for the members of the Red Hand that had come with him, there were twelve of them, silent, identical, faces hidden behind smooth metal masks that turned with minimalist clockwork. They moved with perfect coordination, like puppets dancing to an unheard rhythm.
With every motion, crimson light shimmered across their joints.
They advanced.
The first man's arm split open into a blade, cutting through three others in a single swing.
The second exhaled a wave of boiling steam that melted armor like ice.
The third raised both hands, and the air turned solid with crushing force, grinding bones to dust, almost as if gravity had been condensed.
Screams filled the excavation site.
The red-robed figures moved without hesitation, precise and merciless, slaughtering every living thing that breathed.
The elemental streams from the altar danced madly in response, wrapping the room in blinding colors.
Tecelli walked through the slaughter like a ghost. His robe dragged across the blood-soaked floor as he made his way towards the exit. His heavy steps somehow seemed to have become lighter, like he was no longer a hulking machine beneath the red curtain.
"No need to dispose of the bodies," he said casually.
With that, he left, only taking the heart of the device.
Behind him, the unstable terraforming device became increasingly unstable.
Shortly after he and his people left, the world quaked.
* * *
The sun was setting.
-
The United Army was a joint force formed from the combined might of all the top powers around the continent who were currently willing to join together against the Second Calamity. Together, they became what history would later call The United Army, a powerful force that originated from the Cross Continent during the early stages of the Calamities.
Their current goal was simple.
To face the Second Calamity, and protect as many people as possible.
The army had just arrived in the Western Region.
They were on their way to Harnlum.
Shortly after they entered the western region, they called all the forces from around the region together to meet them in Harnlum. From there, they planned to form smaller teams and spread out to bring all the reachable settlements together.
It was a massive evacuation.
The army was led by the Tibon Family, a powerful clan of dark alchemists from the western region. Their patriarch, Kareth Tibon, was chosen to lead the army. He was a tall man in black robes threaded with crimson stitches. His dull golden eyes never blinked, and his voice was soft but venomous, always hiding a deeper malice. He was known as the 'Whispering Serpent', and it was said that his gaze alone can paralyze a weaker mind.
He was chosen as the supreme commander because he knew the most about the western region and its geography.
At the base camp of the newly forming army, dozens of flags fluttered in the cold wind. It was a coalition made up of many factions, each carrying their own culture, tactics, and history.
-
The Mercenary Alliance
The backbone of the United Army. Formed from the White Wolf, Silver Shield, Silver Eye, Violet Cap, White Skull, and many smaller and independent mercenary groups. They were led by Hexfill and known for their ruthlessness, adaptability, and experience in every type of battle.
The Adventurers Guild
Independent adventurers and combat specialists drawn from the Adventurers Guild's many Guild Halls that had been scattered across the Cross Continent. This was not the guild's full power, but a small portion that chose to fight for the western region.
The Hellion Empire
An informal army sent by the Hellion Empire to combat the Second Calamity. Led by Rotell, this force consisted of professional soldiers, rune experts, and specialists from nearly every known pathway and profession.
The Runecoin Medics and Magicians
Alchemists and Rune Surgeons from the southern region who specialized in both healing and medical combat. Their techniques combined spiritual medicine, body modification, alchemical reinforcement and decomposition, needle throwing, surgical weaponry, and the occasional poison.
The Sea Forge Engineers
Runesmiths and Magitech Engineers from the southern seas who specialized in the art of shipbuilding and water magic. They maintain barriers, siege constructs, and rune-based artillery used by the United Army and the Hellion Empire.
The Silvercrest Knights
A noble order of knights from the eastern region who served under the Bellrin House. Known for their magic and Silverwind Armor, they carried light-forged rune weapons (Weapons of Light & Lightning) and acted as the defensive anchors for the back lines during prolonged battles.
The Stoneback Tribe
A native tribe of Beastmen (Stone Turtles) warriors from the western region. Their bodies were marked with natural runes carved into their shell-like skin, granting immense durability. They formed a large part of the army's vanguard, and were often said to be too kind for there own good. This was a biological trait. (They have an extreme empathy problem)
The Bloodhand Marauders
The largest bandit organization from the central region. Each member has blood red runes that enhance their physical strength at the cost of there sanity. These runes were carved directly into their skin, usually on their arms and legs, resembling tattoos. Those that succumb to madness are culled, leaving only the most resilient and flexible minds.
The Vineweavers Guild
A mysterious alliance of Dryads, Elves, Druids, Beastmen, and other forest races from the northern region. Founded by a Beastman (Dog) who wanted the inhabitants of the Green Wind Forest to have greater influence beyond their borders.
The Black Cauldron
A collection of Poison Masters that had once competed at the Grand Gathering in Imai. They went on to join together and form the 'Black Cauldron'.
-
Countless smaller forces followed alongside them. Stubborn survivors, wandering explorers, and forgotten heroes, such as the Ironloom Scouts, the Greyfur Artisans, and the Mistroot Walkers all marched with the same cause.
As for the unseen or unnamed forces, there were hundreds more of them.
Anyways…
The camp stretched across a valley, its boundaries marked by hundreds of tents that fluttered faintly in the dull wind.
Inside the main command tent, the leaders of the major powers had gathered.
They surrounded a large circular table carved with a detailed map of the western region. Lines of arcane light crisscrossed the map, optimal troop routes, supply paths, and predicted danger zones. In addition, they also pointed out areas that needed more immediate attention, as well as places that were extremely difficult to evacuate. What was most impressive was that all of this information had been updated to best fit the western region after the first calamity.
The discussion had been going on for a long time already.
"The longer we wait, the more people we'll lose. If we want a foothold, we move now, before the calamity appears."
A silence followed.
Kareth stood at the head of the table, his hands folded on the table. His presence was cold, commanding, and impossible to ignore.
"Enough," he said coldly. "We return to the advance tomorrow. All western forces are to converge at Harnlum within the week. Those that can't…"
He paused.
"…will be treated as lost to humanity."
The words lingered.
-
Outside, the banners of the United Army rippled in the wind. Tens of thousands of soldiers moved in formation, already preparing to move on.
The world had begun to move again.
The war for survival would soon start again.
At the same time, the world shook.
All heads turned towards the horizon, not towards the west, instead, back towards the central region, or at least, the boarder.
What they found was horrifying.
A massive black pillar shot up from the border between the Western Region and the Central Region, tearing through the clouds like the earth itself had thrust forth a spear.
The black sea surged, before collapsing back into the earth like a geyser that had just erupted.
For a moment, silence followed.
Then it began to rain.
Black droplets fell from the sky, thick, heavy, and cold, covering a monstrous distance. The moment they touched the ground, the stone hissed and turned gray. Grass wilted, and those caught beneath it felt their throats choking as their skin blackened with something like oil. Within seconds, they fell, their conditions unknown.
The black rain lasted only a few breaths, but it was enough.
The forests started to turn pale, and the rivers began to boil. The already sparse animals fled, but their cries never reached another of there kind before they fell unconscious. From a distance, the pillar's lingering shadow stretched for kilometers, staining the land with black like an eternal wound.
What was worse, where the black pillar had erupted, it continued to spout an endless amount of this black sea.
To the few that knew… like Hexfill.
This was the exact place where the excavation site had been.
* * *
Petra, a few days earlier…