𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘. 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.
It's the beginning of a new age when Jaylah Imperatrix seemingly returns from the dead to reclaim her throne. And in perfect timing.
In her absence, evil has be...
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Act 4 Chapter 139 JAYLAH
How was this possible?
That was the only concept Jaylah's mind could grasp onto as she strode back and forth upon the northern wall of Pixacia, the only stronghold city between Naxaros and the Kalingi army. It was nothing but a tiny boulder in their path. Her heart felt like a fist constricted it when she beheld the incoming army and their thousands of feathered helmets glinting under the sun, which was made hazy by the fires they left behind. She thanked the Gods for the obscured air, for her morale would be even lower if she saw the scope of what they left in their wake.
Still, she knew what was there: complete annihilation.
How was this possible? How was this possible?
It had come to light that the Kalingi had hit the far south, despite the extra time and resources it would cost them. They took two of the Southern Isles, then jackknifed up the coast. For it to have remained a secret march for this long, they had to have killed everyone, including any messengers who sought to deliver the news of invasion. They needed some Oceanics to keep alive as slaves, but they did not need all of them.
And now they were right on Jaylah's doorstep. If they took the capital, she was done for. Everything would be over.
That was why she was there, reading her army herself rather than take refuge in her home. She hoped the Kalingi would take her presence as proof of her desire for blood and not a sign of weakness. Her eyes flicked down to the navy-suited soldiers crouched within every inch of the city. She stood at a high point with the rest of the officials, allowing a perfect view of the front gates. Both sides of the valley outside the city had been barricaded, forcing the enemy to stay within the archers' line of fire. But if they ended up getting through the city gates...
The Kalingi, dressed in white either for the heat or as a symbol of their 'pure' intentions, began to run. The fall of their tall boots upon the land was like thunder. Jaylah could not see their faces under the protection of their helmets, but she knew they would enjoy this. They were an army of high morale and bloodthirsty, pious vigor, stoked by days, perhaps weeks, of massacring her people. And whenever she expected the steady stream of them would end, they just kept appearing like ants.
Then they would die like insects.
General Stephanopolous's yell was barely audible over their enemy's battle cry, but Jaylah saw the archers raise their crossbows. Somewhere in the line stood half the huntresses, Zensa and Adelié not included. "Fire."
Arrows and bolts soared so high into the air they became invisible. Bodies of the enemy stopped in their tracks as they were struck through the chest, the face. Their brethren kept running forward, trampling the wounded and dead alike. They had the soldiers to spare. She did not.
"Fire." It was no use. The Kalingi reached the stone walls in no time, their might not even slightly wavering under the constant fall of arrows. Jaylah could hear the pounding of their fists against the solid gate as it rolled over the rocky grassland.
