New Tides.

"Daena told me everything about that night on her part. What stands out to me is the pact she entered with a being that could end or save us. Ask yourself why such a crisis about to happen would even be possible if such a being was around". Everyone was silent.

" The lady said she would give us swords and bolster our morale. But we had to face our storm". Daena filled in.

"Then she brings her children to meet us". The queen adds.

" Assures us of their blessing, "Trisev spoke.

"All to bolster our morale. She did also give the title. I suspect the gods would give more". Daena added.

" The point being. While it is possible she could erase the whole crisis she doesn't. Why?" Veadick was confused.

"I think you're seeing this from a point of view of an over-powerful being. Bring the scales down. Put your mother in such a place. What do you see as the reason for all the training you have received"

Veadick went silent as an understanding expression crossed his face.

"The gods don't care for a particular individual in this world. No, they care for the collective presence. A crisis such as this would wipe us out without their aid but it also is not something they are willing to do every time such a problem comes".

"So they let it come and let it temper us. While they watch to make sure we don't fail". Another Undule spoke a frown on her face.

"The mother spoke of wars beyond our world. Fights that she participates in. She can't be here to cuddle us. Neither can the gods."

"But they won't grant us the strength to fight either. " Trisev added.

"Apart from her". The same Undule once again stated while looking at Daena. If she noticed she ignored it as she spoke.

" I'm a deterrent. A spear if needed. " She said. 'But I won't be here afterward.

"So. We have a mother drafting a princess to act as world champion while guiding people to seize strength for themselves". Veadick nodded. " I will bring this to my mother the Queen."

"And now we address the people." The King sighed. Daena and Trisev groaned and looked at each other. It was dress-up time.

*

Informing the people about the current status quo didn't go as expected. The church of course tried to use the new crises as ammo to lap up support for themselves.

Until atleast they got the blast that even the gods would be descending. It was an all-out confusion from there. With Prince Veadick and the other four gone back to their forest to inform their people things got a bit hectic. The air in the atmosphere was charged and expectant.

Not many people seemed to realize that the crisis incoming was more of a future thing than a current predicament. Though it was safe to say that the herald of such times had already arrived.

In the coming days the news spread. Many kingdoms out there were quick to debunk the story from Oritais as a means to elevate their standing amongst the people of the continent.

It didn't matter in the end as the Jorkston royal family pushed all their focus into preparing their kingdom for what was to come.

Even as the kingdoms around watched the Oritais kingdom entered an era of military growth. Something that threatened all the kingdoms sharing the continent with the self-ordained God city as they saw them.

As the cogs turned and people watched it became apparent that the crises coming wouldn't just be otherworldly. Kingdoms began making their moves. Preparing, waiting, and watching. The tension was so thick that commoners were inwardly panicking.

*

[DEMILAS, THIRD CONTINENT]

Shields slammed into the ground, spears lined up above their edges. Behind the line of brave lomries was a second set of men placing their shields atop that of the first line their shields equally poking out.

Odark stood to the back astride a Rockstomper, his left hand tightly clenching the straps that were tied around its curved horns. Strapped to its neck was his large axe, the things heft dwarfing him when pulled.

From the height of the rock on which his beast of war stood Odark could see the swarm of things that still had no name for approaching at a steady speed.

"Archers". The first line opened their shields letting the leftover archers rush forward. Over one hundred of them now lined up at the edge of the mountain ready to follow orders.

" Draw!" the sound of armor rustling and clinking as arrows were pulled and set to bow strings made the general inhale.

He watched as the things below drew nearer. At most they had less than four counts to engage.

"Aim". The strings of the bows cried as strong fingers pulled them taut aiming the arrows down at the arriving army.

Odark could see the hesitancy in the eyes of his men as they stared at the faces of their former comrades. But he knew that what came at them was no more Lomriekind.

"Loose".

Soldiers were soldiers. Obedience was in their blood and today was no different. Arrows descended like bolts of Zeus unto the charging creatures below. The proximity helped as the arrows hit at full strength.

Ordark watched as the creatures down below were riddled with arrows. We lost footing and fell. Some received arrows to their bodies which they shrugged off while a few got arrows to the head.

" Fire at will". He bellowed giving the archers free reign to rain judgment on the filth.

Still, the army got closer, the archers letting loose arrow after arrow. At this point, most of the creatures were already like pincushions. Some had been knocked down tripping others and attempting to regain their footing while others were down and unmoving the reason unclear.

"Archers fall back. Men line" the archers were quick to scurry off just as the first of the Sullied arose over the hill edge.

Odark was quick to pull at the magic pendant around his neck using it as a tool to identify the thing. He didn't like what he saw.

[Sullied Husk] - [Demonized Lomrie]

[Lv1] - [Basic]

A dead Lomrie whose body has been exposed to the wrathful and chaotic flames of Taursa. Such being will spread their noxious flames with their victims.

[Perks] - [Necrosfire] - [Deathless] - [Fiend]

Odark shivered. For the first time that night, he felt the cold chill of the night wind. He felt the uncertainty his men did, he felt the terror a normal Lomrie out on this night faced off against an unknown horrific force should feel.

His eyes went to the next creature.

[Sullied Husk] - [Demonized Argat]

[Lv1] - [Basic]

A dead Argat whose body has been exposed to the wrathful and chaotic flames of Taursa. Such being will spread their noxious flames with their victims.

[Perks] - [Necrosfire] - [Deathless] - [Beserk]

The entire army waited for Odark's call as he started horrified at the creatures rushing at his live kin. The silver veins roamed their corpses and silver eyes. Their uncertain steps.

Odark would not be the reason given fell here. He would not be the reason his kingdom fell here.

"Brace for impact".

Shields slammed to the ground. Shields slid into place overheads. More shields slotted into space locking the army into a box. Spears poked out of the shield box. The sides were equally covered by shields and in some places boulders.

Odark watched as more sullied rose above tbe hill and raced on to meet them. He watched as their numbers increased until there was a crowd of them growing like Beasts while they ran. Their bodies sizzling and their eyes a replica of the moon.

That night. The first day of the demon attack and presence in the mortal realm. One that would mark the Herald of the crisis. It wasn't the mighty Argonnes that faced them, not the great Elosans. It wasn't the Qitsarlmer people, not the battle-ready Argats. Neither was it the Undules with all their war prowess or Evershus who had a kingdom named Guardian of Vaustaris.

It was Lomriekind that faced an army of death. Without prayers. Without gods. Just steel against flesh, shield to bone, and armor to necrosfire.

The first of them arrived and the Lomrie spear was quick to enact judgment. Yet with it poking from the end of the pole it kept shrieking and moving. The next came and the next and soon Odark watched his men drowning in a sea of undying.

They were capricious and unrelenting. Some climbed over the others to get to the army, others tried to go around or crawl from beneath.

The more they piled the more Odark knew mountain shit was about to happen.

It did happen. Like a wave of flammable material, each sullied caught ablaze. Not a red fire but a silver blaze that spread and caught unto the shields of his men.

But none here was touched by the divine so how was the flame going to sully them?

[NECROSFIRE]

A mortal-level devil's flame. Corrosive and infectious. What it lacks in its elemental and forge versatility it makes up for in its infectious ability. While not capable of infecting higher beings Mortals are just susceptible enough to its hunger. A sullied automatically flames up when close to or in touch with a living breathing body. Their brain responds to the desire to infect.

Odark watched unable to come up with an instruction to counter this. Moving his men would let the fires touch them. Having them stay was equally as troublesome since he had no idea what Necrosfire did.

Either way, it mattered not. Necrosfire while a hundred times weaker than its original was still liquid silver in a way. The Lomries stood their ground, unaware as a bead of flame rolled like a drop of water through a slight gap in the slotted shields.

A Lomrie hissed in pain as the fire dripped down his neck, into his armor, burning his flesh and getting into his body system.

The army had front-row seats to the infection. The poor Lomrie screamed as he broke rank. His body dropped and convulsed. No one had the time to watch as flames poured into the open window.

Panic.

Odark watched horrified as his mem set ablaze in a silver fire.

"Archers" he gave the command as those of his men, not on fire fled back from the front while the Sullied tore through to give chase ignoring those on fire.

"Loose" arrows hit forward attempting to cut down tbe Sullied but it was useless. Odark knew it.

"Archers fall back and away, Lomries of Demilas.." he paused to steer his Rockstomper around. Starting down at the one thousand strong he had left.

"The king delays" he boomed. All eyes shifted from him to the stampede occurring behind him and back quickly.

" Yet we falter not. We know our duty. our jobs our calling. And tonight we hold the line. " Ripping his huge axe off its strap without care he raised it high above his head. If he could bolster their morale then maybe they could live long enough to find the weakness of the undying. He could see the rest in their eyes, catch the sound of the gobs of spittle forcefully swallowed to wet dry throats.

"The Sullied comes at us. Once out family, our friends, our kind. Even our enemy. Their bodies are overtaken by this atrocity."He glared as the first of his running men arrived and slotted themselves behind the greater army.

" Will er let their bodies be defiled in such er manner?!"

"Nay?"

"Will we let them past us to continue this carnage on our home, where our wives sleep, our daughters dance and our sons work? "

"Nay!"

"What do Lomriekind do?"

"We stand to the end!"

"NO!" Odark thundered. "Today Lomriekimd strikes. Today Lomriekimd enacts the vengeance." the last of the bulk of the escapees slotted into the army. He could note the slight change in his men's eyes.

"Today. Lomriekind shall make the mountain listen." Feet stamped harshly onto the grounds and voices rose. Their defiance lit like a bonfire.

The Rockstomper reared and Odark kicked at its side making it jump off the rock and unto the ground in front of the army of a thousand strong.

"BY THE GODS IF THE GROUNDS PLAY DEAF EE MAKE IT HEAR. For Demilas.!" his final roar was carried by the men behind him. The chants rang out as they lifted their spirits and swelled their egos. The Lomries of Demilas charged forward. The hill shook as it heard their voices, the rocks jiggled and bounced as it felt their boots, and Odark with a dark glean in his eyes huffed out an unfeeling prayer.

'Just a goddamn strike'.

They clash was neither thunderous nor valiant, it was horrifying. Spears impaling walking corpses and the Lomrie in the front of it all, his axe swinging down. Shields rising to smash into the Sullied. The Rockstomper kicked the closest away right as it caught aflame saving both it and its rider.

The first Demon skirmish.

Every man had survival in mind. None sparing a glance at the heavens where a bright red star shone brighter than it normally did. Blanketing quite strangely only the field of battle in a haze of red.

Who better to answer an unfeeling prayer than a pragmatic blood god?.