A World With/Out Home

Chapter 21: A Regretful Finale. (Part 2)

The Church of the Sleeping God's Holy City. A marvel of architecture and culture, it was the true combination of the world's populace in one place. Some would call it a mess, but most saw beauty in the differing architecture and mix of people that roamed the streets. Now however the city was a ghost of its former self, the reason being, more than half its populace no longer existed. When the intentions of the Church were made public, the city was the first to fall prey to demons. Like lambs to slaughter it wasn't just the non-humans who suffered but everyone as they saw what they once believed in tarnished.

The city had changed. Those that survived huddled together too afraid to leave. The few radicals celebrated in the name of the Church's glory, many of whom minds had been broken from turmoil. In the gaps came others. Humans of nations against the Alliance. With beliefs that went directly against those who had lived there, any conflicts were burst apart under the soulless eyes of the black smeared knights that patrolled endlessly. Yet the dying embers now flared as against their walls the Alliance army marched with full intent to destroy the church.

"So this is it," King Ardent of Ardengrad overlooked the city. On top his horse the other key members of the Alliance command were beside him. "We've come a long way and fought many battles but to think they still had so much strength left."

Although the Alliance had gathered as much military strength as they could, compared to the mass of demons they were already outnumbered. Then came the nations now supporting the Church of the Sleeping God. Those that desired to see the other races enslaved beneath them, the remnants of the Human God and even those from the Earthen God and God of Rebirth. Already fighting against the city's wide walls, their offense was at a distinct disadvantage.

A rough laugh rang out as Prince Argast of the Beastkin sneered to the enemy, "They may have their Gods but we have the Ever-Garden. What are their beliefs against the power of real heroes?"

"That may be," Lord Devrin of the elfin nations remained neutral. "But our 'heroes' aren't with us today."

King Ardent nodded, "It is our duty to focus their attention. The Ever-Garden will strike and end this, that I'm sure. All we need to do is keep them in check."

"A defensive offensive," Argast chuckled. "Not quite my style but against these odds I'm willing to try it." He slapped the king's back grinning, "When all this is over, how about another celebration at your fine castle?"

Lord Devrin interjected, "My queen has proposed to host. She has already began preparations."

"The both of you are so sure of our victory," King Ardent sighed. Although he looked the oldest, the other two were quite his seniors.

"If it was just us I'd be quivering," Argast said, his tone serious. "But it's not our victory I'm relying on, it's theirs." A flare fired from the front lines, lighting the early morning sky in a bright red. "It's time. You two keep up now and don't die. The wine will taste bitter otherwise."

"Let us hope that the Ever-Garden can really kill this sleeping God then," King Ardent looked to the temple in the centre of the city. "Otherwise our chances are slim."

*

Far from the Holy City in a forgotten part of the world the Mercenaries of the Ever-Garden crept forwards. It was clear that the now ten were nowhere close to the Alliance army or the battle that had broken out. Instead they had arrived at an unassuming canyon and within it hidden amongst the twisting passages the entrance to an ancient place revealed itself.