Awakening in The World of Gods

The dimly lit corridors of the castle echoed with the hurried yet measured steps of a butler, his polished shoes clicking softly against the stone floor. In his hands, he carried a thick stack of documents, his expression a blend of professionalism and urgency. Approaching the ornate doors of the throne room, he gave a slight nod to the guards, who opened the heavy oak doors with a low creak.

Inside, King Varyndor stood before a large, detailed map etched into a marble table. His piercing gaze roved over the miniature representations of his kingdom, his presence as imposing as the golden crown resting on his head. He barely looked up as the butler approached, but the subtle shift of his shoulders indicated he was listening.

"Your Majesty," the butler began, bowing low as he presented the reports. "Our western region is under siege. Reports from the Purifier Squad indicate the presence of an SSS-level corrupted entity. The situation suggests a full-scale invasion."

The King's hand paused mid-air, hovering over a section of the map. "An SSS-level threat?" His voice was calm, yet the weight behind it was undeniable. "Who leads this assault?"

The butler straightened. "Our scouts have identified Tiara, a corrupted Supreme Guardian. The Nightread Squad has engaged her forces, but they are vastly outmatched."

King Varyndor frowned, his sharp eyes narrowing. "A Supreme Guardian twisted by corruption… and Tiara, no less." He straightened, exuding authority. "Send an immediate request to the Church for their Sage Purifier team. Notify the Guardians of this escalation. Double all defenses around the capital. We cannot allow this corruption to seep further into our lands."

The butler hesitated, his brows furrowing in thought. "Your Majesty, if I may… Do you believe this is merely an act of aggression? Or could this be a diversion? The timing feels too precise, and the scale… unprecedented since the Great Dark Surge 400 years ago."

The King's gaze grew darker as he stared at the map, fingers drumming lightly on the table. "It's too calculated to be a simple attack. Either they seek to obtain something vital from our kingdom, or they are testing us—for weaknesses or preparation for something far more insidious."

His words hung in the air like a heavy shroud as the butler inclined his head. "Very well, Your Majesty. I will relay the orders."

The two made their way briskly to the Kingdom's High Command Headquarters, a sprawling room buzzing with activity. Officers of varying ranks worked tirelessly, some relaying information through magical communication devices, others analyzing battlefield projections. The atmosphere was electric with tension, the gravity of the situation pressing on every soul within the chamber.

The King's arrival brought an immediate hush. All eyes turned to him as he strode to the central projection, a towering holographic display that mapped the battlefield in real time. Glowing markers indicated enemy forces, their ominous red light casting eerie shadows across the room.

"Status," King Varyndor demanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

An officer stepped forward, his back straight but his expression strained. "Your Majesty, our eastern front is facing a force led by 20 enemy commanders and two generals. Their combined army numbers over 12,000. Each commander oversees 500 to 600 of the creatures we've identified as Darkcalipers."

A second officer quickly added, "Similar formations are present on the northern and southern fronts—five commanders per side, each with their own contingent. They've also deployed several colossal creatures in support."

King Varyndor's eyes narrowed. "And their movements?"

The first officer shook his head. "They've taken up defensive positions. We suspect they're awaiting further orders or reinforcements."

Another officer interjected, his voice grave. "Your Majesty, our tower shield has begun to weaken. Initial investigations suggest sabotage. Additionally, while the Darkcalipers themselves appear mindless, their commanders exhibit advanced tactical intelligence."

The King's expression remained composed, though his jaw tightened. "Contact the Adventurers' Guild and the Mercenary Guilds. Issue a kingdom-wide threat alert. High-ranking combatants are to report for active duty. Non-combatants should assist with evacuation efforts."

One of the senior strategists cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, the Darkcalipers appear to range from A to AA rank in strength. However, the larger creatures—those leading the charges—are likely far stronger."

The King allowed himself a faint smile, a glint of steel in his eyes. "This is just the prelude. If they've committed forces of this magnitude, they're holding back their true power for a critical strike. But if this is to be our final battle…" He turned to face the room, his voice firm and unwavering, "...then we meet it with everything we have."

A ripple of determination spread through the officers. Orders were barked, plans adjusted, and the room returned to its frenetic pace, now infused with a renewed sense of purpose.

The butler, who had silently observed, stepped closer. "Your Majesty, shall I coordinate the efforts here in your absence?"

The King turned, his gaze steady. "HQ is yours. I'm taking to the battlefield."

A collective intake of breath swept the room, and a few younger officers exchanged nervous glances. One of the braver ones stepped forward. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, if you fall—"

The King's sharp glance silenced him. "If I fall, it means I've done everything within my power to protect this kingdom. And if that happens, it will be up to you all to carry forward my will. Do not waste time worrying about the 'what-ifs.' Prepare for what's coming."

The officer saluted, his face red with both embarrassment and determination.

As the King strode out of the chamber, his regal cape billowing behind him, the room was left humming with activity and the lingering weight of his words. Each officer and strategist redoubled their efforts, the knowledge that their King was heading to the front lines driving them to work harder.

Outside the castle, the winds howled, carrying with them the faint sounds of distant battle. King Varyndor mounted his warhorse, his armor gleaming faintly in the moonlight. As he rode out toward the western front, his mind churned with the possibilities: What was Tiara's objective? Could this invasion be a prelude to something far worse?

King Varyndor's sharp gaze flicked to the towering spires of the cathedral. A subtle tension rippled through his composed demeanor as a troubling thought surfaced.

"Wait a second…" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the hum of activity around him. His brow furrowed. "Could Tiara be after the Church? Or… is her target the artifact of the Guardian Deity ?"

The idea sent a chill down his spine. If the artifact fell into corrupted hands, the consequences would be catastrophic.