Chapter 185 - Weight of command (2) (1/2)
There was a certain quiet that creeped in when you least expected. It brought with it a type of peace and serenity that belied a momentous moment. Of course, it was relative. For the ant walking amidst the grass and shrub, what did they care for the affairs of those who fought and bled over blades of grass? Their concern was for the food on their back and the colony. Likewise, to those who walked the earth with bodies upright and with weapons in their hands, with steel on their bodies, and with trepidation in their hearts, what thought was there for the plight of the insignificant ant?
Anathema stood atop an earthen wall which had been raised through magic while in deep contemplation. Her eyes were forlorn as she looked into the horizon. Her thoughts were muddied and unclear. There were many questions she had, but her plight was to push on no matter the cost, no matter the duty.
”Did the Daemon not dream too? Were we only lead and stone, to be thrown away and forgotten?”
She couldn't help but feeling an all too human emotion. One might find this strange, for the Daemon were monstrous, and perhaps many would say cruel. Their disregard for life was infamous and they crushed it without an ounce of hesitation or regret. But to think that they didn't have hopes, that they didn't have their own aspirations, would be wrong. They couldn't help the way the Creator had made them and if one were to look at them with an objective and unbiased eye, they might even say that the Daemon were the most loyal, true, and pure of all the Creator's creations.
Although Anathema was distracted by her thoughts momentarily, she didn't fail to notice the unnatural fluctuation in space that suddenly took place somewhere distant beyond her sight.
”Hmm, again. Just like last night, but which god is meddling here? Should I investigate? No, I will wait for it to make its move first. There is no need to waste my time searching when I am sure they will soon deliver themselves right to me.” Anathema spoke to herself in a mild tone.
She didn't observe for much longer and instead turned her gaze to the battlefield which had yet to erupt in violence and death. This was where she belonged, on the battlefield. Only through destruction was there meaning to her existence and to that of her kind.
An enormous wave of tiny ants were slowly swarming towards the opposite end of the battlefield. Anathema looked on quietly, but with a look of contempt which she did not care to hide. One stomp would be all it would take to send all their souls to oblivion, but she only watched without taking any action. Her skin, the color of Obsidian, was a stark contrast to the bright glare of the sun as it basked the Steppes in its light. She was a blotch of twilight that defiantly stood against the raging blaze that adorned the sky like a crown. A blotch that would never fade.
Her eyes were two pools into an abyss, but they swirled and twinkled like stars in the night sky. Those who looked too long, whose gazes were drawn within, would gladly walk straight into that abyss without knowing that their end had come. She was drawn to something distant and her eyes bored through the fabric of the world as she carefully observed something unseen to a mortal's eye.
”What a fool. Can you really be so nonchalant on your throne of lies? I look forward to our impending meeting.” She scoffed and removed her gaze, no longer caring to pry.
There were greater concerns. A pathetic lowly Demigod who thought herself a goddess was the least of her worries. This battle in her mind was a foregone conclusion. Once she acted, things would certainly come to an end. She was much more concerned with the ones watching hidden within the shadows.
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A loud horn blared and all along the defensive line, Lenia's army prepared for the enemy advance. The vanguard of this army consisted entirely of slave soldiers. They wore very little armor and were relatively weak, but there were easily over one hundred thousand of them swarming towards Lenia's army. They charged while Dark Elven slave masters whipped them into a frenzy from among their ranks. These slave masters were quite formidable and wouldn't be so easily killed, but there were only a few thousand of them.
Also mixed among the ranks of the slaves were shadows that dashed about. These were most likely Dark Elven assassins who had mixed in with the slaves. It was a common tactic that the Dark Elves employed and even though it was common knowledge, it didn't make it any less deadly. They didn't care about the lives of the slaves at all, and the assassins could easily find opportunities within the chaos of battle to take out priority targets while slaves were used as meat shields.
Lenia sat atop her powerful warhorse and shouted one command after another before settling down in anticipation of the battle to come. Her army was tense, with many gritting their teeths, some with excitement and some with expectation. This was their first real battle as an army and they had trained hard for this very occasion. There were none here who felt fear because they knew who was behind them and there was no doubt that victory would be theirs.