City of Sin

Nightmare Lands

Richard felt fortunate that the reward point system had left him obscenely wealthy; he had no idea how he would tackle the expenses of the upcoming effort otherwise. However, this war would be certain to burn through all fifty of those top-tier offerings given enough time.

As he left for the Church of the Eternal Dragon, news about the situation spread through Faust and all of Norland like wildfire. The reapers had appeared in his core plane!

Reactions were mixed. Some lords worried for him, immediately contacting the Archerons to offer support, while others rejoiced at his misfortune. All sorts of conspiracies took root before the sun could rise the very next morning.

Most independent powerhouses were more concerned with another piece of news. Both current reward point battlefields would still be in effect, but most military resources would be withdrawn from the lists for a while. At the same time, the battle with the reapers would be considered for points as well, and anyone that wished to join could contact the Archerons and head into Faelor.

The ceremony at the Church was hosted by Noelene as always, with Richard personally carrying an enormous chest multiple times his size up to the altar. Just like the numerous times before, the screen of timeforce isolated him from the rest of Norland as the altar jumped into the depths of the river of time.

Richard placed each offering on the altar one by one, watching as they were transformed into pure timeforce that was exchanged for divine grace. He started off by strengthening the portal between Faelor and Norland until it couldn’t be improved any longer, with the remaining grace converted into large amounts of equipment and the kind of materials that would allow his workshops and the broodmother to create epic-level weaponry. His followers were decently armed at this point, but he needed his army to perform to its highest potential if he wanted to evacuate everyone.

The Eternal Dragon was quite attentive to his needs this time, giving him zero trouble with finishing off his list. By the time the ceremony ended, he walked back out with a dozen silver chests that contained everything he needed. Unlike Norlandic design, these chests were simple and smooth, choosing utility and utility alone. Perhaps it was because of the scale of the exchange, but the goods had come packaged this time instead of as a pile.

Amidst the sacrifices, Richard had recalled the crushed machinery of the Doomsday Imprint in his pocket and thrown that onto the altar as well. He had been a little startled when that was broken down, but then he recalled that the dragon had informed him of a bonus for anything related to the reapers. Coincidentally, the timeforce for that offering condensed into divine crystals without giving him a choice, even if such crystals were definitely on his list.

......

The skies above the northeastern seas of Faelor started rippling invisibly, each pulse tens of metres thick and moving out a hundred metres in all directions. What looked like a hexagonal prism slowly phased out of those ripples, floating soundlessly in the sky.

Strange beams of light scanned across the ocean below, focusing on the horizon in the distance. The object itself plunged into the icy ocean and went all the way down to the seabed before its lower edges fanned out, shooting out anchors that stabilised its position. By the time the pillar grew still, the other end was mere metres above the ocean’s surface with water splashing all over it.

The pillar suddenly trembled, ejecting hundreds of one-metre-long rods that were each under a foot thick, the metal warping into the forms of various small warships as they swam away in all directions. These ships were blisteringly fast, going much faster than even the famed magical swordfish native to these seas.

Traversing a hundred kilometres an hour, these tiny ships still made the time to eliminate all marine life in their way, some of them shooting out translucent net that grabbed the corpses of those killed. Once their nets were full, they dragged the flesh back to the mothership, advancing quickly despite the tonnes upon tonnes of fish they were dragging along.

Dozens of smaller ships floated up to the water’s surface, spreading wings and skimming across even faster than those catching fish down below. These ones spread out in all directions, scouting this new plane they would soon consume. The mothership’s tip burst open, shooting out hundreds of half-metre-long ships that moved at five times the speed of their larger kin, its body starting to crack open entirely.

The pillar eventually started buzzing, a full third of it splitting off before forming a cuboid that slowly moved towards the shore. Climbing up onto land, it morphed into a tall building with many sharp spires, small doors opening up at the base and dozens of machines the size of small dogs walking out from within. These beetle-like things started burrowing into the earth, fetching crate after crate of soil back to the building that was now illuminated by countless lines of energy travelling across its surface.

As more of the machines crawled out of the building, another cuboid floated up from the ocean and took root a few kilometres away. This one formed a flatter hexagon, with a section of the beetles with soil being diverted to feed it as well. The new building quickly started operating, its roof opening to send a small warplane into the sky.

The budding base grew more and more active, and the shoreline started to shrink rapidly. From a bird’s eye view, it seemed like a black spot had formed on the corner of the earth, rapidly extending in all directions.

......

“NO!” In a castle bordering the ocean, Gangdor shot up from what was clearly a stressful sleep. His inner shirt was soaked through with sweat, but even as he took it off the strong sense of discomfort wouldn’t go away. He crawled up from bed and looked outside at the dark sky, a glance at his clock telling him that it was already ten in the morning.

One could see the distant ocean through the windows in his room, the water a deep grey as it reflected the cloudy sky. The brute crossed his arms and muttered a few curses under his breath; it seemed like it would snow soon.

Gangdor absolutely despised snow. Blizzards this far north lasted for days on end, and could put a halt to all marches and wars. As a bald man who hated helmets, it also felt extremely annoying for the snowflakes to melt on his head.

“MEN!” he shouted as he put on a fresh set of clothes, a group of personal guards and assistants hurrying over to help him put on his armour. His frown grew worse as he listened to the report, “Why are they still dawdling? I gave them the order to set off!!

“My Lord, both regiments started preparing immediately, but it has only been twenty hours since they were ordered to fall back. They are still waiting for the border units and packing supplies—”

“Pack your ass! They’re leaving within ten hours, they can leave anything they haven’t gotten ready by then!”

“Y-Yes, my Lord!” the attendant bowed, shivering in fright. Normally, a regiment of over a thousand men required at least two days to properly set off; however, Gangdor’s word was law here, and ten hours it would be. However, even as he departed to deliver the orders, the attendant was full of doubt. This army was stationed to oversee the dukedoms along the eastern ocean, but Gangdor had suddenly given orders yesterday mobilising all troops to return to the Iron Triangle Empire through different routes. The order was completely unexpected, and the time limit was impossible to meet.

This army had been stationed here for three years, and at this point they knew that heavy snow had sealed off the major roads of the region. The march would be slow and arduous, and it should have been unnecessary in a time when every country ceased hostilities. An evacuation order at this time was puzzling, and a little disconcerting as well.

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