Steel and Mana

Chapter 347 – A New Era (2) (End of Volume IV)

The city was his. Conquered after a year of siegeing.

Or... at least he now stood amongst what remained of it.

Kadosa IV, Emperor of Geth, wondering how long he would be able to hold onto that title, was standing among the ruins of the glowing remains of a city. Everything was gone, and he was watching as the still smoldering remains of the stone, the trenches, and the dead were continuously sending plumes of black smoke into the sky. Even after weeks had passed, the fire the Ishillians released was there, simmering under the surface. Sometimes, when they moved a rock, an obstruction, flames erupted from below, scorching the surroundings. Touching the Medallion of Life hanging from his neck, he could feel the lingering magic, an unleashed, cruel spell, resulting in his victory. If he could call it that at all. Walking, searching for survivors, knowing it was pointless, the ground beneath his boots was a gross mix of ash and blood, the remnants of both sides sticking to his boot. Thousands were gone in a flash of fire.

Victory? Was this really what it was? No. He lost. And he knew it.

What remained of his army was barely counting in the thousands. Even if he had some numbers, the men were tired, injured, and their spirits broken. They only lived because of the miracle that Goddess Orsi's medallion had given them. Otherwise, they would be lying somewhere on the field, turned into ashes. His gauntleted hand clenched into a fist, veins pulsing with frustration because of everybody, his Empire suffered the most. The carefully crafted plans and ideas of a grand opportunity all fell apart the moment the time came to act on them. He wanted to blame Ahnud... But he couldn't. He was too tired to do so.

"Your Excellency..." One of his remaining generals approached him, presenting him with a smudged letter. "We collected everything that we could. This is our last inventory, and we are ready to retreat."

Taking a look at it, Kadosa's heart twinged, squeezing hard. Of the grand army he had led to this forsaken place, only a shattered remnant remained. Less than five thousand men, losing half of his mages in the process. All the rest? Gone. Obliterated in the final spell of that accursed Ishillian madness, unleashing a fire that burned down everything. It had nearly taken Kadosa himself, leaving him gasping on the brink of death, healed and saved by the light erupting from his Godly Artifact, extinguishing the flames around him, saving at least some of his people.

If not for the Medallion of Life and its miracle, he would have joined the countless dead or survived and left with broken people to die later. But, with it acting, at least they had enough spirit left to gather and try to leave. Even now, touching it, the relic had burned against his skin, its power coursing through him, healing his remaining injuries, not of the body, but of the spirit.

"Cruel mercy, " he whispered, knowing he now had to face what was waiting for him at home. He had lived. And now, he would retreat... and then... “Form up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse but steadying itself. Gather the wounded. We walk.”

Most of his men were akin to ghosts in battered armor, barely acknowledging the command when it came down from the top. Most of his men were indeed broken and hollow-eyed, obeying in slow, mechanical motions. They had come here expecting glory, but they were leaving, beaten and burnt. Kadosa’s gaze swept over them, his chest tightening, knowing that those who had saved may become trouble back home. A big one at that. These were not the proud warriors who had marched under his banner a year ago. These were husks and possibly will be the loudest bunch once returning to Geth, demanding his head. And yet, they were all he had left, and he had to bring them back.

And then… the sky suddenly darkened.

At first, Kadosa thought it was the smoke thickening with the shifting wind, gathering into clouds above them. But then the shadows grew larger and deeper, stretching over the ruins like the hand of some unseen God. It suddenly made him think of the bright flash only a few days ago, a sign that something had to happen at the Ishillian capital. Probably the final showdown between Mirian and Pascal. His thoughts were then cut away by a low, unnatural hum reverberating through the air—a warhorn. It was a sound that managed to vibrate in his bones, making him turn towards the North.

An oval shape had emerged from the horizon.

It was massive. A beast of some kind, gliding effortlessly coming down from the clouds, descending towards them. He knew it had to be an Ishillian ship, but... Its form was like no airship he had ever seen. They... had something like this? When? How? This was not an Ishillian design! This was something… alien. It was like watching a floating fortress that defied reason and defied logic itself. Its hull shimmered with an eerie light, reflecting the occasional firey eruptions from below as it drifted closer. It made Kadosa freeze in his spot.

He was nudged to action when he heard a whisper run through the surviving troops. It quickly grew into a murmur, from which it festered into a wave of panic.

“We will die…!” someone gasped, their voice barely audible over the second blaring of its warhorns.

Kadosa did not flinch, but he felt the same thing. The fear spread through the remnants of his army like a plague, and he couldn't stop it. Not anymore. He didn't want to. If he dies, it is better to do it on the battlefield than be beheaded by his own people. He watched as some turned, some stumbled back, and others fell to their knees, whispering prayers to their Goddess for a new miracle.

"It won't come, " he shrugged, watching the massive ship glow larger and larger as it stopped hovering above them all and stood below it, accepting whatever was coming.

Even his remaining generals and mages fled by now, dropping weapons, abandoning formations, and running like scared children. Some were like him, collapsed where they stood, sobbing, surrendering to despair. Suddenly, Kadosa realized that his hands were trembling.

"..." He took one look at them, squeezing them into fists.

He wasn't trembling for the same reason the others were scrambling. It was not from fear. No, not from fear. This was from rage. From a sudden fury at the Gods for this cruel twist of fate. He had spent a year fighting in these lands, only to watch his efforts and the sacrifice of many others turn to ash in the end. Then... The Goddess saved him? For what? To humiliate him a bit more? Or was he expected to flee like a beaten dog?

"No. I won't." He snorted, his eyes steeling his resolve. His grip tightened around his sword’s hilt. His pulse pounded in his ears. If this was to be the end of his life, then he would not allow it to be that of a coward. He would not run.

Yet, as the flying city came to a halt, nothing happened. No magic came down, and no attack came. It just floated there. He didn't need to wonder for long why when a sharp noise echoed far and wide, making everyone's ears ring, slowly dissipating and replaced by a stable, male voice. One he had never heard before.

"I am the Sovereign of Avalon. Intruders from Geth: Leave Ishillian soil immediately. As an ally of Empress Mirian Ishillia, I am here to help her reclaim peace over her land. Retreat to your own lands with peace, and we will not pursue this matter. Stay... and die."

The message was simple... yet horrifying for Kadosa, not because of its content, but because he never heard of Avalon. The thing before him was not of Ishillian origin? How could that be? Avalon? What was that? Who were these people? Allies? Of Mirian? So the Empress did win... but...

Questions. Too many questions. And no answers to any of them.

"I repeat." Echoed the voice once again. "Leave. Or witness the same power that lit up the sky over Ishillia."

...
....
......

"Evil." Luna giggled, standing next to my chair on the bridge of the Camelot. "We didn't do that!"

"Sasha did," I countered with my own smile.

"Technically," Merlin chimed in on the open channel within my airship, "It was a sealed-away spell of the Vasas, and Sasha simply produced a guide for it, leading it away from us."

"And they don't need to know that!" I grunted, rolling my eyes, making Kustov chuckle and his daughter reach for her own communicator.

"You are being a know-it-all again." She joined the conversation, feeling embarrassed.

Not that I minded. When I spoke with Merlin, he told me everything he learned from his previous incarnation. Apparently, that skull in Ishillian custody was the cut-off head of the last ruler, emperor, sect master, or whatever they called it, of the Vasa people. The one everyone joined together to eliminate because he was close to bringing down the sky on the world, aiming to become a God. Well, seeing that spell, I think he was indeed close.

What version 1.0 Merlin said, the man's last spell was thwarted by the original Ishillia, sealed away in the skull. Kept as a kind of... portable nuke. It was then put under the control of Ishillian blood, a last resort to save them if destruction would fall on the bloodline. What Pascal didn't count was, well, Sasha. And seemingly, me. If the OG Merlin is correct, the Vasas were a tight-knit group, and they were immune to their own spells or something.

I don't know if we would have survived that thing, but at least Sasha managed to control it and send it away from us. This means she has a connection to them, which isn't a surprise. What is a surprise is that apparently, I do, too. What both Merlins concluded was that my part was simply more diluted. This means that my mother's line also originates from a Vasa branch. No wonder our kids are, well, unique.

What does that mean for me or for our future? I don't know, but whatever happens, I will deal with it then. For now, I will only focus on the present. First, I will help Mirian clean out the Empire.

From what we spoke, she will try her best to stabilize it in time. Even going as far as giving up the old Kingdom of Scorc and returning it to its people. For what would it achieve? Who knows... Still, she wasn't really afraid of them as that land had been badly battered. If they wanted to fight against Ishillia, they would need to recoup for a long time. Maybe even for a century or so. It is still a better solution than trying to reign them in when all her power needs to focus on keeping the Empire together.

As for us, we were in a pretty good position. I just had to help her ensure that I deter others around us from making a move. So, for that reason, I would fly around, announce Avalon to the world, and lay claim to the magical phenomena that apparently were seen almost everywhere. It was almost like an advertisement run that we are here as a new power. Heh.

"Sovereign," Kustov spoke up, bringing me out of my thoughts, "should we nudge them a little more?"

"No need." I shook my head, feeling much better than when I woke up. "Let them gather whatever they have, and we will escort them out of Ishillia. Then, we will fly around, quelling any idea of rebelling, invading, whatever we find. Then..."

"Then?" Mikan asked, seeing me fall silent.

"When Sasha wakes up, we will head home." I smiled, leaning back in my chair. "And rest. We have all earned it."