The Greatest Sin [Progression Fantasy][Kingdom Building]
Chapter 387 – Shock and Awe

It is impossible, of course, but the word ‘impossible’ is simply not in my vocabulary. I prefer the term ‘never done before.’ The rational is simple, the theories are not complicated: Divines are collective consciousness incarnate and humanity already believes in the existence of weapons after all. No one can deny a sword is not real or that the axe does not split wood. The spear and shield are essential in combat.

Yet if such things exist, then how did Estus come into fruition in the first place? Why did the God of weapons appear and not the Divine of an individual armament? The question is one that is posed many times, why is it Elassa and not the incarnations of various elements? Why is it Iniri and not thousands of Divines which represent each species of flora. Why is it Kassandora which holds all the values of war together? There will be no Divine of strategy, of tactics, of victory or of defeat as long as Kassandora walks this world.

Allasaria’s criticism, that it is impossible to control human consciousness, shall be put to the test. The issue we agree on is that the conception of certain objects are simply incompatible. The Rancais hold the sword as the tool of a heroic knight. The idea there is that it is a duelling weapon rather than a spear for the masses. The Rilians are divided, the northern city states see blades as badges of office, the southern duchies treat it as a tool for villagers to protect themselves from raiders. The Allians treat the sword as a sidearm. The northern Epans see it is as a toy, and an axe or a cleaver is infinitely more useful in their forested lands. The Doschians are so disunited that in one city, the sword may be an oversized knife and in the other, the sword is a massive greatblade taller than a man.

It is not that others fundamentally disagree with me. It is that they simply see it as an impossibility to be able to unite these views into one cohesive idea. A blade is a piece of sharpened metal with a handle at the end of the day. What men think of such things, no one can control. Other Divines are correct at the end of the day, it is an impossibility to make

I have found a target, the swords of Aslantepe, the oldest blades to found in archaeological digs, they date to before the age of heroes. There have been writings and pictures found on the walls, my own men are creating more. The swords will serve as the foundation for a new mythology.

I am not here on a fool’s errand to unite humanity and make them believe that the sabre is the same as the long, the short or the great sword. No, I disagree that conscious ideas have to exist. The incarnation of such minor Divines as of Windows is evidence enough for that. The fact that all blades are a piece of sharpened metal on a handle, which is wielded solely to kill others, is enough.

 I am here to conceptualize Aslana, mother of all swords from who all blades can trace their lineage.

Excerpt from the ‘To Make Weapons Walk’, Arascus’ plan to kill God Estus, of Weapons, and replace him with separated weapon Divines.

Eliza stalked next to Lyca as the four sorcerers crossed the black metal gate that Fleur had thrown open. There had been a time when Eliza had been a little girl and the massive palace would have made her squeal with joy. She had wanted her own place, with servants and with a road and with a pretty pony and some small dog to carry in a purse like a proper lady. Now, Eliza looked up at that huge structure. She could just imagine the cleaning and the organisation. She could practically hear the nosy maids and the butlers. She could see herself screaming at cooks because they burned something again. She could see herself agonizing over trying to keep a budget.

Now, Eliza was an adult. A small home was enough. There was no reason to have a pony when she could have a proper horse either and if she was ever going to get a dog, it would be a huge one that would sleep outside and ward off intruders.

It was annoying that Lyca was so obviously impressed by the sheer wealth of Fleur’s estate. Eliza didn’t know if it was jealousy or what the emotion was that sparked in her, but it was simply annoying that Lyca found something to appreciate in another girl. She grabbed his hand and tightly wove her fingers through his as Fleur led the silent march to her estate. Men were already looking and arranging themselves, guns were being handed out, others dove to or raced behind bushes and cars. Others grabbed swords and clubs and batons.  Men streamed out of the mansion as others raced back in. Windows were opened and rifles appeared from behind curtains. Two people jumped from the other side of the building and landed on the roof. Another man appeared from the balcony with a knife and stood on the railing as if ready to jump. Engines turned on the other side of the building and someone started one of the many cars that were parked by the road. “It’s your home Fleur.” Edmonton said. “What do you want to do?”

“What do you do if you have intruders in your home?” Fleur asked. Edmonton and Lyca both laughed. Eliza squeezed Lyca’s hand.

“Do you want to split into teams?” Eliza said. “If we’re only to use magic.”

Edmonton turned back around to raise an eyebrow at Eliza. “Why?”

“If Lyca and I go in…” Eliza said flatly. “Well, what do you think will happen to a building when a pyromancer and a geomancer go in?”

“Good point.” Lyca said.

“It is.” Fleur said. “You two stay outside then, me and Ed will clear the inside, you just catch whatever tries to escape.”

“We have to get through this defence first.” Edmonton said.

“I don’t think that will be a problem.” Lyca let go of Eliza’s hand and stepped forwards. Eliza kept close. The four sorcerers made a line. Fleur took a step as if she saw invisible stairs in the air, and she did step on invisible steps in the air. The girl slowly climbed stairs as Eliza heard the whipping of wind blades around her. Edmonton peeled off to the side, water condensed in long trails and then spun circles around him as if he had tiny comets orbiting himself. “How do you want to do this?” Lyca asked.

Eliza loved that he did. Those two could fight themselves all they wanted, but her and Lyca were a team. “You lead, I’ll support.” Eliza said. That was much easier than trying to establish a plan. Lyca usually lost control in fights anyway. That wasn’t a problem, the man had a certain about himself when he was rabid.

One of the Anarchia’s blessed men opened fired on Lyca and Eliza with a rifle. Eliza’s earrings flashed a bright orange she channelled her magic. The ground shook, she didn’t know where the bullet was, but she knew the earth itself would be guided to the metal. It was a completely different way of using magic than the one they had been taught in Arcadia. Instead, it was more like sorcery. Her magic would catch it. Eliza knew the bullet would be caught. How did not matter. Why did not matter. But that shard of metal would be stopped.

A pillar rose out of the ground in the blink of an eye. A reverse lightning strike, as if the world was furious at the sky and tried to hurl dirt and cobblestone and cement and grass and root back at the heavens. It caught the bullet.

A muscled man in black raced forwards. Fast, extremely fast. Far too fast to be an unblessed human. He accelerated to the speed of a car on a highway in the blink of an eye, his arm ready to punch a hole in Lyca. Eliza raised her hand and Lyca raised his. Out rose a pike, as if the ground itself had summoned a shieldwall. Eliza’s spear of stone impaled that man on his chest as Lyca snapped his fingers and the fellow combusted. Skin and flesh began to melt immediately.

And Eliza with that death, with the smile Eliza saw on Lyca’s mouth, the girl knew exactly how this fight would go. From above, Fleur shot forwards as more bullets came. Eliza’s eyes caught her friend raise a hand and issue a basic order all of the men in Kassandora’s Legions knew: I will. Ranged Troops. Tiny bullets were caught in the air, then thrown back as Edmonton rushed forwards into a melee combat. Lyca raised his hands, the chain on his neck glowing bright red, and then snapped his fingers.

One of the cars that had just turned its headlights on exploded. Then another. And another. A wall of flame consumed all the vehicles. Fire rose into the air. Eliza raised her hands and channelled magic to the small outcrop of garden trees Fleur had in her garden. Out they rose, roots tore and screamed and ripped and cracked as the earth threw them onto Lyca’s flames so that the man would have fuel to feed that wasn’t just his sheer willpower. Eliza knew he had more than enough of that but this is why she was here. To be lovely and helpful.

One of the men from the roof lunged forwards, straight at Fleur. The other went down for Edmonton. Another hail of gunfire came from the building. Men raced forwards in a counter-attack. Eliza had seen this behaviour with her soldiers, once battle began, men always suddenly found bravery and power they didn’t realise they could draw upon.

Eliza raised her hands and prepared for the counter-attack as Lyca stepped out to meet the men moving out to meet her. Wasn’t he just lovely? He placed himself straight between them and Eliza, a cloak of fire fell from his back, it curled into a snake, danced with the movement of his arm, arced upwards into the brilliant blue sky, and then dived back down onto the ground, exploding with the force of the artillery that had supported the sorcerers back in Kirinyaa. Men were charred by the flame and several were incinerated immediately. Eliza tapped her fingers through the air and made sure Lyca could fight to his best.

The smooth tarmac of the road leading up to Fleur’s marvellous palace of a home started to flow like pebbles on a beach, then quicksand in a desert, then like flowing water. Men took a step, their boots and feet suddenly fell through the stone. They were stuck. Eliza saw several of them fall, or rather fail at falling as the ground held them upright. Faces turned pale in shock hands started to wave. One huge man, definitely blessed with strength roared and punched the ground. He actually managed to crack and break the stone Eliza’s magic was working.

That didn’t matter though, Lyca fell amongst them. A stalking wolf clad in fire, he raced through the men, his own body a burning projectile. Flames jumped from around him as he left a trail of fire in his wake. Men screamed and men cried as Lyca called upon a whole menagerie of flaming beasts to devour those that Eliza had caught. Eliza wondered if the man knew what she was doing, he must, Lyca was far too well versed in combat to miss it. Her eyes went from him and to her friends to see if they needed help.

Fleur was in the air. She looked at that man falling from above, he had managed to arc his jump straight at her. The woman flicked her hand. A gust of wind caught his body and the man learned why the air was only reserved for those could do truly manoeuvre in it. His expression turned and grew fearful. He didn’t have even a moment to scream, the wind suddenly threw him onto the ground like a ragdoll. The man’s body exploded like a balloon of blood.

Eliza realised what she could do as her eyes turned to the windows. Men ran in them, men were aiming rifles. A few even were aimed at Eliza herself. Pillars of dirt and stone rose out of the ground at Eliza’s command. And then, those pillars suddenly shattered into tile stones, each one no bigger than a fist. Each stone launched forwards and a cloud of dust exploded from the front of Fleur’s home where Eliza’s grapeshot hit. The dust cloud was swept away by another of Fleur’s winds as Eliza looked down at Edmonton. He probably wouldn’t need assistance.

And indeed, the man did not. He wasn’t so much as duelling with the enemy as he was guiding a single swirling river around him and towards the building and back again. Whereas Lyca’s flames engulfed and devoured and swallowed, Edmonton’s arrow of water danced and bounced and flew straight through bodies. It dropped men tall and short, it killed those with muscle and those without. It pierced through hearts and slit through throats and tore through heads, all the while returning to Edmonton whenever anyone got within ten steps of him.

It took less than a minute. With howling wind and rumbling earth and dancing water and devouring fire, it became obvious that whoever had taken over Fleur’s home was utterly outmatched. This wasn’t a battle between equals, it couldn’t even pretend to be. This was men with stolen strength and speed and resilience facing off against those who could bend reality around their imagination.

The slaughter was over as quickly as it began. Fleur’s winds settled down. Edmonton’s water returned to a ball around his hand. The ground around Eliza stopped shaking. The last to go was Lyca’s flames, the man waved his hand and the fire put itself out.

Charred bodies, broken bodies, broken bones and small pools of blood.

Fleur settled on the ground, just before the grand oak doors to her home. Eliza wandered if the girl would say anything. Any thank you? Any good job? Eliza knew Fleur, and she knew there wouldn’t be anything. “Eliza, Lyca, stay outside. Chase down anyone who tries to run. Ed, you’re with me.”

Fleur snapped her fingers and the doors to her grand mansion swung open. Inside, men were already running deeper into the room.

Fleur stepped inside and Edmonton followed.