NOVEL NEXT Chapter 419: Pulled Into The Open
Death stood in silence as snow swept against the black cloak that hung from his shoulders.
The golden light of the morning sun spilled over the mountain, reflecting off the covering of snow, creating a beautiful sight.
Ahead of him, Carthage stood tall, its walls carved into the side of the mountain like the very bones of a god. They were high, stern, and unyielding, the first obstacle between him and the Flame that burned in the bowels of the city.
Behind him, thousands stirred. The campfires of his army had burned low and had long since been put out. All that remained right now was the waiting game.
Soldiers sharpened swords that had already been whetted too many times. Archers checked strings. Riders paced restlessly, their beasts, tamed monsters, stamping frost into the ground. The mood was restless. Eager. Hungry.
Death could feel it. The itch that gnawed at them all, the same one that gnawed at him. The call of the Primordial Flame, promising an end to the burn in their souls that had never let them rest.
His army was ready. Too ready. But this wasn't the moment. Not yet. Not until the last piece fell into place.
Then, the sound of movement swept through the gathered ranks. The army parted, row by row, like a sea making way for something greater.
Luna.
Her silver hair glimmered in the pale light, her violet eyes shining with purpose. Cloaked in white, she moved with the grace of one who embodied life itself.
The soldiers bowed their heads as she passed, for none dared look too long upon the woman who could stand in the embrace of Death's aura and live.
She came to him without hesitation, slipping into the radius of death that would have shredded the soul of any other mortal. Her arms wrapped around him briefly before she leaned close.
"Tam is ready," she said softly. "The Iron Legion has consumed the last of the iron veins. They await your command."
Death grinned, the motion containing not a single trace of humor. All that was left was the cold expression of a predator that had finally scented blood.
He turned then, his cloak swirling behind him, and faced the countless faces arrayed before him.
His voice rose, not loud, and yet every soldier heard it as if he whispered directly in their ear.
"You stand here because of the same fire that haunts me," Death began. "Because of the burn in your souls that drove you from home, from family, from peace."
"That hunger, the search for the Flame, is what has united us. And that same hunger is why Carthage has always despised us. Why its Elders sought to cage us. To hold our throats beneath their knives so we would never rise above them."
The army growled, their voices low but rising.
"Today," Death continued, "that ends. Today, we strike down the walls that barred us from the truth. We burn away the chains of the Flame that has plagued us since the day we first felt its call."
"And when Carthage falls, so too will the shackles that bound us. No more Elders dictating who may climb to the 9th Rank. No more leash around our necks."
He raised a hand, clenched into a fist.
"Today, we claim the Flame. Today, we take back our destiny."
The army roared, the sound deafening even against the endless sweep of the snowstorm. Spears beat against shields. Swords rang against helmets. Thousands of voices screamed his name.
Death lifted his other hand, and the noise cut off.
"Gaia," he called.
The crowd shifted as the earth itself seemed to respond before she even stepped forward.
The woman who bore the title Mother of the Earth emerged from among the front lines, her skin marked with the faint glow of veins of stone. She moved slowly, every step sending a tiny shudder into the ground, until she stood at the very front beside, but a healthy distance away from Death.
Then she lowered herself to her knees and spread her hands across the frozen ground.
The army quieted, all eyes on her.
Gaia closed her eyes and exhaled, and then the world shifted.
The ground buckled, a low rumble turning into a roar. The snow whipped into violent whirlwinds.
From deep within the mountain, power stirred. Soldiers stumbled, clutching at weapons and shields, as the very earth beneath them cracked and groaned.
And then, it began.
The walls of Carthage trembled. The layers hidden within the mountain's heart screamed as stones split apart.
From the deep, entire tiers of the city tore free, peeled away like pages ripped from a book. Houses, fortresses, caverns, streets, all lifted from the depth of the mountain into the pale light of day.
One by one, the hidden layers of Carthage were pulled outward, stacked like exposed bones for all to see. For the first time in its long history, Carthage was naked before the world, no longer buried, but dragged screaming into the open air.
The soldiers gasped in awe, many collapsing to their knees as they watched the impossible unfold.
The sound was like a thousand earthquakes happening at once, the air filled with dust, the sky veiled by the sheer immensity of what Gaia commanded.
At last, with a loud crack of stone crumbling as it crushed itself, the last of Carthage's layers was wrenched into the open.
Gaia collapsed forward, sweat pouring from her brow, her hands trembling violently against the stone. She had squeezed every last inch of her strength into the feat.
The silence afterward was almost suffocating, a sense of fear and awe in their hearts as they witnessed the power of a Rank 9 Knight.
Then the army erupted into cheers, an explosion of sound so fierce it shook the mountains themselves.
Death looked down at Gaia's bowed form, then back at the revealed city. A grin split his face.
"Forward," he commanded, his voice like thunder rolling across the snow, "charge!"
The army surged, weapons raised, a tide of steel and fury crashing toward Carthage.
The war had begun.