Lands of hope

The retaliatory blow didn’t take long to wait. The dragons demanded revenge, and Amenemhat was enraged by the fact that the enemies got so close to him. Nasharans — they fought and lived here for a long time and were rightfully called so — went on offense instead of defense. Insectoid guards scattered in all directions, helping their comrades in the pyramids to control remote territories. A much more coordinated and collected dragon attack had a better result… and Darkness helped by sending her dragons to kill krakalevns. The murderous shield dome protecting their capital weakened, whole detachments of insect-like creatures were mowed down by Amenemhat’s enraged companions. The influence of the Towers controlled by Incarnations has destabilized the previously impassable killing barrier — probably the only thing that has so far kept the enraged dragons from ravaging the cities of the Innumeral. “Claws and teeth, blades and spears,” Tagirion, who accompanied Arma and covered the Incarnation’s left flank, watched the fight below with regret. “You can’t turn around with magic here, in such a fight you need something more precise, and less energy-consuming.” “What do you mean?” Arma turned her head towards him. “Voice your thoughts.” “Human weapons would be useful here. A bullet has the advantage that you don’t need to spend time preparing, just insert an ammo and shoot.” “And you will run out of bullets, on the contrary, there are always souls while you kill enemies,” Namira snorted at this idiot, but Tagirion waved his paw at the battlefield. “If so! Souls are trophies. Many people are eager to part with them, and they limit themselves, calling victory into question.” “Victory will be the will of Darkness, and you will get something to loot. Unnecessary thoughts come into your head.” Flying a narrow circle, they flew away from the city — even if the dome no longer protected krakalevns, they fought fiercely, and navs shouldn’t be forgotten. They could very well come to the aid of their servants again. But having lost the protective dome, krakalevns didn’t lose their mandibles and courage. Battles were fought for every street, and whole clouds swarmed in the skies above the city, drizzling with blood and bringing down a hail of bodies. The guards strained with all their convolutions, neutralizing the unpredictable attacks of the navs. This time, thanks to Amenemhat’s brief but impassioned speech, Darkness and Surt, along with their assistants, acted together. The result was beyond all expectations: dragons weren’t inferior to the enemy that time, moreover, they were clearly striving for victory… Even if they paid for it with many lives. But the souls went to raise the most skilled fighters from the dead, or turn into a deadly projectile that creates huge holes in buildings and gaps in the crowds of enemies. The fiercest battle was fought for the center of the city, for the crystal palace and the pyramids, in the squares the bodies lay in several rows. Even the Dark nnes who had escaped to Nashar from the hells recalled this sight with a shudder, but at that moment they didn’t pay attention to it, driven into battle by a thirst for revenge, profit and an early victory. Unfortunately, in other places, the battle wasn’t so successful for the dragons. Krakalevns launched desperate counterattacks, and nav masters helped their subordinates with might and main. Somewhere entire buildings collapsed, burying dragons under them, somewhere souls left their bodies not completely, and the remaining soulless dummies attacked their fellows. Zorath clung to the back of his father’s neck, breaking through to a large pyramid in the central square, and helped knock down the krakalevns that wanted to come in from the sides or from behind. “Mom’s going to kill us…” the cub muttered, but Surt laughed: “We haven’t defeated the krakalevns yet, and you’re afraid of your mother! A coward and a rich man die a thousand times.” Zorath would have answered, but at that moment a particularly zealous creature jumped on them, intending to kill both dragons at once. It failed — Namira flashed by like a black lightning, tearing the soul out of krakalevn. Intercepting her, the dragoness froze for a moment, and then directed the energy around the edges of the square, scattering the fighting insectoids. And Surt had already landed on the platform almost at the top of the pyramid, grabbed his son with his front hands and forcefully threw him at the insects coming out of the rooms of the upper floor. Zorath had to adjust his trajectory with telekinesis so as not to crash clumsily along with the enemy, but to land on his paws, tearing off the opponent’s head on a thin neck. His father was already leaping over him, bringing down a new wave of pyramid guards: “Now I’m going to find out what you’re hiding here!” Despite their successful attack, the enemies were everywhere, but neither the adult nor the young dragon was scared. On the contrary, the excitement that gripped Zorath from the very beginning of the fight reached its peak. Spreading his wings, twisting his tail so that he would not be cut off by an enemy paw, he rammed the hefty krakalevn, piling him on two rear ones, and only when he finished it off realized that there was no one else to kill. At least for that time. To consolidate his success, Surt placed an energy shield on the entrance doorway, sparing no effort to conjure a whole soul, and finally examined the hall at the focal point of the conical pyramid. There was only a table with a crystal box under an upside-down pyramid on the ceiling. “Another reality control lens,” Surt guessed. “And…” he opened the box and pulled out a tablet with unknown writing. “That’s why their spells were better than ours. They hardly spent their will and didn’t concentrate, only formulated a wish and sent it to the Universe. Cunning lazy people, such a pyramid is not limited by its time. Come here, Zorath, and help me turn my weapon against the creators.

* * *

It was much more difficult to get into the crystal palace. The shield that stood on it, sucking the souls of the incoming invaders, couldn’t be removed from the outside. However, the dragons didn’t lose hope of getting into the citadel through the underground passages found under the streets of the city. Sometimes traps and obstacles appeared in the way of the siege detachments, which greatly reduced the number of “infiltrators”. However, the leaders of the groups confidently led their brethren on, regardless of losses. No one even noticed that Nergal, who led the attack, had been staying behind the rapidly moving front for a long time. The war would continue without him, but apart from him there’d be no one to say the last words to his dying female, Ereshkihal. Nergal was able to raise his head only when he heard krakalevn approaching him. It was bigger than the others of his kind and looked brutal. “Do you think you’ve lost everything?” Krakalevn addressed Nergal in an ugly but understandable speech, clicking and buzzing. “It is I, Tsprsk, the tsar of the Central Committee, who have lost everything.” “Free you from your sorrowful thoughts, freak!” Nergal rose up on his hind legs, swaying left and right, aiming a blow. Nergal didn’t spare himself, and even more so his enemy, investing into spells even the energy necessary to maintain life. Tsprsk’s natural armor cracked and burst, claws tearing at the meat. But it turned out to be a difficult task to bring it down — despite the blows, krakalevn, either with magic support, or only due to his rage, found the strength to pounce on Nergal. Scraps of skin and muscle flew off him, cut off by mandibles and claws, but Nergal didn’t put energy into protection, only began to burn Tsprsk harder, roaring in pain and the desire to kill. It would seem that the wounds inflicted on the opponents were not compatible with life, but they continued to fight. The dragon’s fur and flesh peeled off, and almost nothing but bones and tendons bit into the beaten krakalevn. Maybe the opponents had already died in soul and consciousness, and the bodies fought only by inertia, supported by spells.