The plan had been set.
There was no turning back now.
*Rumbling!!!
With the deafening sound of a million soldiers moving in unison, the army surged forward like a tidal wave of steel and purpose, racing toward the towering inferno that split the battlefield in two—the great flame wall of Battlemaster Mezra.
Their battle cries echoed across the windswept plains, a chorus of defiance against the monsters of Chasmratt.
*Drgggggggggggg!!!
Beside them, monstrous armored vehicles thundered forth, each carrying with it the power of destruction.
These metal titans bore the Rods of Jivrel—colossal weapons that crackled with volatile Eidra energy, sparking like caged lightning.
Their engines bellowed like beasts, sending vibrations across the cracked earth as their treads carved deep scars into the terrain, flinging dust and debris into the smoke-filled skies above.
And then—Mezra made her move.
With a sharp twist of her arm and a violent motion of her hand, she summoned a massive surge of Eidra.
*ROAR!!!
The raw power cracked through the wall of flames like lightning splitting the heavens.
The searing inferno groaned and twisted unnaturally, before splitting wide in a jagged, molten tear just large enough to allow passage.
The breach glowed with searing light, revealing the war-scarred battlefield on the other side—an expanse choked in smoke, ruin, and blood.
"The battlemaster had given us the way! All soldiers, move forward as planned!" shouted a commander—
*VWOOOOOOOOOM!!!
Before blaring a horn to which signaled the soldiers to "Move Forward and follow anyone who is infront of you."
*Rumbling!
Through the burning gate, soldiers began to pour in—wave after wave of Zerafhon's finest stormed into the breach.
Their silhouettes were briefly illuminated by the fire's glow before vanishing into the suffocating haze, swallowed by the orange veil that cloaked the battlefield.
Tanks rolled in behind them, cannons humming with restrained fury.
*drrrrrrr...
The ground trembled.
.
.
.
Yet—
From the west, a deep, rumbling quake slithered through the ground like a warning—like an ancient beast was awakening.
*Distant rumbling sounds!!!
The air thickened as the tremors grew stronger.
Every step that followed made the dirt shiver beneath their boots.
The Battlemasters paused.
Their eyes locked on the horizon as a dark tide began to swell.
And there it was.
Their roars were now audible as their thunderous charge rumbled through the air and earth.
The Atroxians were coming.
"It seems they noticed the gap I made," Mezra muttered, her voice calm but sharp, like a blade pulled free of its sheath.
Her eyes narrowed, tracking the distant movement of shadows beyond the haze.
Then she turned toward Merilyn, a sly smirk forming at the edge of her lips.
"Your turn, sister."
Merilyn didn't respond with words.
Instead, she reached for the weapon strapped across her chest—a simple-looking stick at first glance.
With a practiced twist of the handle,
*click!
it clicked and unfolded with a metallic hiss, expanding and locking into the deadly form of her signature glaive.
Zaepherax.
Crimson wind danced along its edge as it came to life.
===
*On the rear of the army
"General!" a commander rushed to Evaan, breathless and pale.
"The Atroxian horde is heading straight toward us! They've caught wind of Battlemaster Mezra's breach!"
Evaan's head turned sharply, his eyes sweeping over the chaos, processing every detail.
Then he spotted her.
Merilyn, already poised for battle, her glaive humming with power, the winds stirring restlessly around her.
"Maintain phase," Evaan barked, thrusting a hand in Merilyn's direction.
"She's got it handled!"
Without hesitation, Merilyn spun Zaepherax in a wide, sweeping arc,
*Fwoom! *Fwoom! *Fwoom! *Fwoom! *Fwoom! *Fwoom!
its blade cutting the air with a high-pitched shriek.
She planted her feet firmly into the ground and inhaled deeply—drawing upon the Air Eidra buried deep within her soul.
The wind answered.
*SHRAAAA!!!
It gathered around her like a hungry beast, swirling with crimson light.
Dust twisted upward in spirals as the pressure began to build.
The entire battlefield responded, the very air pulsing with invisible power.
"Gaelstorm," she whispered, her eyes locked on the enemy ahead.
With a precise flick of her wrist—
*fwip!
she unleashed it.
*VWOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
The storm exploded forward from Zaepherax—a massive spiral of razor-sharp wind wrapped in crackling crimson energy.
It screamed across the battlefield like a god's fury, devouring everything in its path.
*CRASH!!!
The front line of the Atroxian horde never had a chance.
Dozens—no, hundreds—were instantly lifted off the ground.
Their twisted bodies flailed helplessly as they were ripped apart mid-air, the pressure shattering their bones before they even hit the ground.
Those caught in the outskirts of the storm were thrown like ragdolls, their armor crumpling like paper beneath the crushing wind.
And still, the Gaelstorm raged on.
Merilyn's eyes sharpened.
With a sharp twist of her arm and renewed focus, she commanded the storm mid-flight—clenching Zaepherax with both hands.
The cyclone suddenly twisted tighter, its core compressing.
Then—
*BOOM!
It detonated outward in a violent burst of compressed wind and Eidra.
The explosion shrieked like a dying titan.
Crimson arcs of wind split into countless blades, each slicing through air and flesh alike.
Armor cracked.
Limbs flew.
The horde was shredded in a matter of moments, reduced to a mist of blood and severed limbs that rained across the battlefield like cursed confetti.
"Excellent work," Mezra said, her tone proud but grounded.
She stepped beside Merilyn and placed a steady hand on her shoulder.
"That should buy us enough time."
Her other hand sizzled with red Eidra, still maintaining the breach behind them so the last units could push through.
More soldiers surged into the gap.
The flow of war machines and infantry hadn't ceased.
But...
something had changed.
*beep! *beep! *beep! *BEEP!!!
A strange series of rapid beeping sounds erupted from the commanders' datapads, drawing confused stares and furrowed brows.
"What the hell is happening!?" one commander shouted, eyes wide with panic.
"Eidra signals are spiking like mad!—Contact the general!" another cried out, frantically tapping his device.
Merilyn noticed it too.
She looked down at the interface mounted to her forearm.
Her expression darkened as erratic values flashed red across the display.
"Mhm…" she muttered, her tone colder now.
Her gaze turned towards the other side of the flame wall—toward the unseen thing that stirred beneath the surface.
"It knows…"
===
Moments later, the last waves of soldiers and machines pushed through the breach.
Mezra stood at the edge, waiting until the very final moment.
Then—
*snap!
with a sharp flick of her fingers and a pulse of Eidra, she let go.
The breach slammed shut with a deafening roar, the flame wall closing like a divine gate.
And just in time.
The second wave of the Atroxian horde crashed into it like a tidal wave, only to be met with fury and fire.
*ROAR!!!
*SHRIEK!!!
Just as planned.
Half a million soldiers had stayed behind the moment they passed through, forming an unbreakable wall of ranged assault.
They lined up with ruthless efficiency, weapons raised in synchronized precision.
The flame wall didn't hinder them—it empowered them.
"FIRE AT WILL!" Exclaimed Evaan, leading the rear of the army.
*BANG! BANG! *BANG! *BOOM!
Energy cannons and Eidra-charged artillery blasted through the living fire, creating windows of devastation with each shot.
*BANG!
*SHRIEK!!!
"Kill them all!" Exclaimed Evaan.
*Bang *Bang! *Boom! *Boom! *ZAP! *ZAP!
*ROAR!!! *Shriek!!!
The Atroxians on the other side were torn apart before they could even fully realize the trap they had walked into.
===
Meanwhile, Merilyn, Mezra, and Erenhold led the second wave—another half a million soldiers deeper into the desolate lands toward the location the scouts had marked.
There, the Hive Queen would rise.
There, the trap would be sprung.
The ground trembled once more—sharper this time, more rhythmic.
*SHRIEEEEEEEEEEEKKK!!!
A long, piercing screech suddenly ripped through the air, sharp enough to rattle bones and make hearts skip a beat.
It was close.
Unfazed, the army pressed onward.
.
.
They then reached the designated zone outlined in the scout maps, the air heavy with anticipation.
Here, the true strike would begin.
Artillery teams began to move, forming a wide circular perimeter.
Their purpose wasn't just to fight—it was to provoke.
To drag the Hive Queen out from whatever nightmarish lair she slumbered in beneath the earth.
Then came the Rods of Jivrel.
Massive, hulking vehicles rolled into place, their cores glowing with the intense pressure of Eidra energy.
These rods, once fired, would pierce the very ground and flood the depths below with violent pulses.
"The rods are in position!" a commander called out, voice clear despite the chaos.
Mezra responded with a single commanding gesture—raising her arm, then slicing it downward like a blade.
"Fire."
*Boom! *Boom! *Boom! *Boom! *Boom! *Boom!
With thunderous booms, the Rods of Jivrel unleashed their payloads.
*CRACK!
The air lit up in blinding flashes as the rods slammed into the ground, vanishing into the crust of the battlefield with violent force.
Each rod carried enough Eidra to shake mountains—
and it did.
The earth groaned, then shuddered.
Pulses of power echoed beneath their feet, like an awakening heart beneath the surface.
The vibration climbed in frequency, growing louder, sharper—until the very air screamed in response.
Winds howled.
Dust lifted.
The sky seemed to flinch.
Mezra crossed her arms, her face unshaken.
"Now," she said calmly, her eyes fixed on the trembling horizon,
"we wait."