novelraw Chapter 274: Continental Chaos
Chapter 274: Continental Chaos
Chapter 274: Continental Chaos “Put it out! Don’t let the flames spread!” The orders echoed above a cacophony of screams and wails. Hundreds were jammed into crammed streets, flames rising from behind them like a raging tsunami emerging from the depths of hell itself. Women clinged tightly to their children, men raced to escape first or stay behind to let others pass… But behind them all were people of the same blood and skin, their ears marked by vicious scars. It was them who truly had no hope of escape.
“Damned Unblessed, move away!” A woman in ragged clothing collapsed to the floor, shoved aside by the elven noble she once served. The stampede grew more frantic as she felt the weight of their desperation all at once.
She clung tightly to her head, hopeless to stop their barbaric march. More and more boots piled on top of her as the raging flames reached closer and closer.
Is this it? She thought. Is this how my life ends—beneath their wretched boots, the same place I have always lived?
Her heart burned with fury. She didn’t want to accept this outcome, but there was nothing she could do to stop it.
“Move!” All of a sudden, a voice reached her past the orchestra of painful screams. Before she could react, she felt something dragging her up by her ragged shirt.
Once again, the visions of the nightmarish scene greeted her eyes. Pillars of flame taller than most trees rose high around them, submerging every Living Home and their inhabitants beneath an ocean of skin-melting heat. She could see some even leaping off the buildings in desperation, only to be consumed by the frantic crowd trampling over each other for a chance at survival.
Yadria, the Holy City, was burning…
“Woman! Respond!” The voice startled her awake. She glanced in the direction of the source and saw a tall man wearing grey robes. His illustrious green hair had been scorched in numerous places, but it didn’t take away from his handsomeness.
“I’m Virion—captain of the Court of Nightshade! Tell me, why are you here? The Court of Roses should have set up an evacuation zone in a different district! This area is for nobles only—why are the other Unblessed here too?!”
She hesitated for a moment but decided to answer. “My master ordered me to come with him.”
Virion’s face twisted in anger. “These viscous scumbags…”
There was a hint of surprise on her face. This was the first time hearing such words from an official in regards to the nobility.
“I’ll order Nyana to lead you guys to where you need to be.” He glanced in the direction of another woman wearing grey robes. She was holding a wooden staff covered in black roses. Colossal vines would rise every time she planted it in soil which would move erratically above the crowd, picking up any who fell or were trampled on.
So that’s how they saved me… The woman nodded nervously. “Okay.”
Virion glanced at Nyana and yelled, “Have the saints responded yet?! The fires have gotten out of control!”
The woman grit her teeth as she tried to steer the desperate crowd to safety. “None! I received a telepathic message just moments ago from Elan that said half of them have already mysteriously died. The others seem to be busy dealing with something within Floramere Keep!”
“Useless!” He stomped his boot angrily. The situation was deteriorating far quicker than anything he had to deal with before. Not even the Nameless Mist corruption nor the Greenfather ritual incident were this bad…
“Tell all the units to be vigilant! The Fallen arsonists are still around us! And I want you to leave handling the evacuations here to Amara—you’ll be responsible for leading these Unblessed folk back to their designated evacuation zone.”
She hesitated for a bit while glancing at the Unblessed woman standing near Virion. Eventually, however, she sighed and accepted her new orders.
Standing alone above a building that had yet to be burned, Virion watched the scene bellow with keen eyes. It all started far too quickly—an invasion they had been preparing for months in advance arrived faster than any of them could expect. They had thought that the Vynasian Rift Gates would open above the Endless Sea like usual.
Instead, they were met with armadas that descended upon them beneath their own Spirit Blossom WIllow’s shade. There was no warning—no indication of the change… The war from beyond this world’s edge had arrived before any of them could react. It was only after the first few arson attacks that everyone understood what was happening.
The Invasion of this world had truly begun…
The Fallen—humans who now act as hosts for the foreign invaders—emerged from every cornerstone of the city, burning everything in their wake. No one was spared—not the children, not the elderly, and certainly not the nobility… A majority of the attacks stemmed from commoners and Unblessed who willingly gave up their bodies and souls to the enemy—all for the chance to finally quell the anger they held for those who ruled their lives from above their untouchable walled gardens.
They wanted it all to burn. Their hatred boiled with the desire to see it all crumble. And the Vynasians offered that to them…
Of course, there were also nobles who willingly turned into Fallen as well. Many of them due to debts they had accrued to others or simply in pursuit of even more power.
“The Saintess of Dreams, Sylia, was right… These wounds we ignored for so long have finally come back to haunt us…” His frown deepened even more. “O’ Maiden, guide us during these trying times…”
Finishing his silent prayer, Virion continued to direct the Court of Nightshade into steering the rest of the evacuations as well as attempting to locate the arsonists responsible for the attacks. Although they were able to hunt and kill a few of them, the rest continued to blend in with the crowds, making it extremely difficult.
But then, something even more astonishing happened. Above the sea of flames, Virion stared deeply at the colossal crown of leaves blocking out the heavens above. As more and more fissures carrying colossal ships appeared, a sudden change stirred from within the heavenly tree that overlooked it all.
The Aether-woven leaves, shifting endlessly from color to color had begun to rain upon the burning holy city…
“Praise the Blossoms… the prophecy was true!” Virion’s heart skipped a beat. “The leaves of the holy tree are all falling!
“The Flower Maiden is finally awakening!”
His voice echoed into the crowd, causing many of them to freeze on the spot, forgetting their own desperation. Staring at the flame-ridden skies, they noticed the Spirit Blossom Willow’s leaves gliding down towards them in droves, as if the entire tree was shedding its own crown.
For a second, hope filled their expressions. A tragedy this terrifying had caused the emergence of a miracle!
But before they could begin to celebrate, the ground began to shake wildly… Virion scanned the surroundings once again, confusion filling his expression. It was only when the first of the tree roots ascended that he understood what was happening.
“Maiden…” His voice died before he could even utter Her name.
All around him, the streets had once again descended into chaos as terrifying, life-like roots grew from beneath the cobblestone roads, impaling anyone in their way. Strange illusory flowers blossomed in their wake, filling the air with their spores.
As more of them emerged, it became obvious that their targets were the living. The roots would impale anyone near them while the colossal flowers would cause those who breathed in their spores to rapidly fall asleep. He tried to resist, but even he felt his mind blur and unblur rapidly. The once crowded streets of fleeing pedestrians had all instantly succumbed to the toxins.
In the distance, the Unblessed woman who was fleeing the district with Nyana’s help turned around to see the chaos. The roots were rapidly racing toward them, as if aware of their presence.
“Shit!” Nyana grit her teeth as she tried her best to fight back with her own Soul Weapon, but it was no use. The power behind these roots outmatched her completely. She doubted even the saints could do anything to stop it. The flames being spread seemed to hold no effect on them too.
Eventually, just like her captain, she too was impaled, succumbing to the terrifying toxins filling the air. The Unblessed watched helplessly, awaiting their own wretched fates—unsure of when their deaths would arrive as well.
In the distance, the woman spotted one of the arsonists laughing hysterically as he burned down a nearby Moving Home, ignorant of the danger approaching him. Within seconds, countless strange roots emerged from the ground below him, consuming him whole. He didn’t even have the chance to react.
What in Yasini’s Demise is happening?! It felt as if she had entered a dream she couldn’t escape from.
“They are still alive…” Another voice startled her. She turned to see a young man with his elven ears clipped as well—a fellow Unblessed who was also once a noble’s servant.
“What… What do you mean?” She and the others turned to face him. The man was kneeling before Nyana who was still impaled by the mysterious roots. Her skin seemed to change, as if gaining wooden bark just like the roots themselves.
Is it absorbing them? She thought, unsure of what she was witnessing.
“I’m saying she isn’t dead,” the young man responded quickly. “I can still feel her pulse…”
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They all stared at each other, dumbfounded. All around them, more and more people were getting impaled with no hopes of resisting. And yet…
“Why hasn’t the same happened to us yet?”
Indeed, that question had lingered in their minds ever since the beginning. The strange roots only went after Nyana, as if purposefully avoiding them…
“What is going on…”
“I think I know.” The young man spoke with a solemn expression. “Have any of you heard of the other myth regarding Yasini’s Demise?”
“Other myth?” They all glanced at each other, eyes filled with confusion. The woman, however, understood what he was referring to.
“Do you mean the taboo one? The one that says the Spirit Blossom Willow had killed the Flower Maiden and usurped Her power?” She silently repented in her mind for even uttering such a heretical thought. “I heard there were hidden cults who believed in this myth—they even called the Holy Tree a pretender, saying that it only wishes to replace the true Flower Maiden.”
The other Unblessed looked at each other in fear. They too were aware of this myth, but they had simply viewed it as a sacrilegious belief preached by certain fanatics in Yadria. And yet, what they were witnessing around them seemed to support this fringe theory…
The man who was kneeling before Nyana’s unconscious body smiled. “I was one of those fanatics you all are thinking about.”
The woman’s eyes widened as she stared at his maddened expression. He rose and looked at each of them—his fervor and excitement growing by the second.
“Our leader preached to us! She said that the tree was an usurper! A false god!” He chuckled as he approached the woman, reaching his hand for her shoulder. “And we also believe in something else as well.
“Salvation, brothers and sisters! Salvation for us—the so-called Unblessed!”
They all looked at each other in bewilderment again, unsure of whether or not to listen to this madman’s ravings. Oblivious to their thoughts, he continued his explanation:
“You see, the myth extends further than what you’ve likely heard. According to our leader’s teachings, the Unholy Tree consumed the Maiden and tried to usurp Her power, but didn’t succeed completely. A part of the Maiden still resides within the tree, resisting its control ever since the end of the War of Swords!
“And all of this culminates with the history you all are aware of. Since the Unholy Tree desires to replace our beloved Maiden, it seeks to continue Her legacy. Yasini’s Paradise and the other rituals those damned nobles partake in are all fake! They were all manufactured by the Unholy Tree in order to consume our dreams!”
Dreams… The woman stared at Nyana’s unconscious body, as if she was asleep. Her form was slowly merging with the roots. In that moment, she felt there was a level of truth to what the young man was saying.
“Think about it, what exactly makes us any different from the other elves? Our anima cannot be differentiated from them. Our appearances can’t either, so they force us to clip our own ears!...
“The only real difference… is that we do not sleep when Yasini’s Paradise arrives every year.”
They all whispered between each other, as if coming to an epiphany. The woman’s face twisted as the realization left her lips:
“Are you saying that the Maiden is protecting us from the Unholy Tree?”
“Correct!” The fanatical man smiled even wider, there was no mistaking his fervor. “The Maiden has been protecting us all along! She was the one preventing us from falling asleep during the false Yasini’s Paradise. She is the one preventing these roots from consuming our dreams. That was all Her doing, in order to protect us from the Unholy Tree’s schemes!
“The truth is, we were never Unblessed! We were the true Blessed all along! The Maiden favors us over those false believers!” He glared at Nyana’s slumbering figure, hatred filling his eyes.
Hearing this, the woman glanced at her own hands, calluses filling her palms from all the labor she had been subjected to over the years. Her master had been truly ruthless. If not for his wife being extremely strict, he might have already forced her to bear a child for him… All around her, firestorms rose, consuming the colossal city that had once treated her no differently from a stray dog. And yet, the flames never got closer—the strange roots were preventing them from spreading near their street.
Clutching her fists, she glanced at the young cultist believer and asked, “Who is this leader of yours? What is her name?”
The man’s eyes softened. “Do not worry, Sister, I will introduce you to our faith very soon. The same goes for all of you,” he glanced at the other ‘Unblessed,’ some of which still seemed hesitant and full of doubts. “Our leader is a true believer in the Maiden—a witness to our beloved Goddess’ true history!
“Her name is Myrella, the First of the True Blessed!”
“What… what is happening…” Echoes and visions played in his mind, depicting countless horrors Myrin couldn’t even hope to describe. Each of them was unique, showcasing scenes that were occurring across the continent.
There was Celestine Citadel, marked by endless flames and a strange dark mist that spread to every corner of the old streets. There was Luvinica—now a graveyard of burnt books and scrolls with explosions happening everywhere. Even distant places he had never visited like Darkshrine Castle, Folre City in the Sinlar Kingdom, Saint Maria’s Citadel… Every vision depicted ruins upon ruins tainted by crimson blood and raging flames. Above all of them, colossal fissures in space could be seen—massive floating ships entering this world through them.
After seeing the same thing over and over again, he was finally able to piece it all together.
The Vynasians… They’ve started their invasion. The entire continent has descended into chaos! The pain continued to linger with every added vision. Eventually, he even saw his own former homeland. Yadria… it too was consumed by flames. And strangest of all, the colossal Spirit Blossom Willow that once covered the entire sky had turned completely leafless. It reminded him of that myth that spoke of the Flower Maiden’s reawakening.
What is this… Why are the Holy Tree’s roots attacking the citizens?! The scenes he was seeing left him utterly stunned. It was as if the tree was seeking nourishment from the living.
With the snow piling above him, Myrin continued to cling to the ground, unable to move. Damn it all! Why is this happening to me! Stop—I don’t wanna see any more… The strange visions made it impossible to focus. Even as a 4th Circle, casting magecraft at the moment was no different from a fool’s errand. The spellforms would collapse before he could even activate it…
I still haven’t… left the Upper Winds yet…
Following Soren’s reckless decision to abandon him, Myrin had immediately prepared to chase after him, much to the objections of everyone at the Temple of the Stars. In the end, after much arguing, Mistress Solyara finally relented and allowed him to leave.
He had convinced himself that his preparations were enough, but he soon found out the hard way just how wrong he really was. The Upper Winds wasn’t something mortals were meant to survive. The storm was truly alive and vengeful, desiring to freeze any who dared to climb the mountain.
But all of that changed hours prior. The blizzard which had tormented him every step he took suddenly stopped completely. As if it had given up on its hatred in the end.
He had thought that fate was finally favoring him again. That he could finally catch up to his idiotic friend who left him behind…
“Wrong… I was so wrong…” He grit his teeth as the snow continued to pile above him. By now, even his sense of time had warped completely—he wasn’t sure how long he had been stuck in the same place. The visions were crashing into him faster and faster—each one more horrifying than the one before it.
“Soren you bastard! How dare you leave me behind here! I too want to save Cassia!” His shouts were met with deaf ears. The world was collapsing all around him, bombarding him with its own suffering.
Finally, in the distance, he spotted a cave. His eyes widened with hope. Although his body was resisting the call to move, he still forced himself to crawl anyway. He needed shelter from the cold—a place to rest and wait for the strange visions to end…
It took all his will to get there, struggle after struggle against the forces of friction. At one point, he even felt himself slip back a few meters, forcing him to climb back up again. I need to persevere… I can’t give up yet…
During his climb, many thoughts enveloped his mind. Thoughts about his own weaknesses—the reason for his abandonment… He wondered if Soren would have changed his perspective if he had been stronger. If he had chosen Sword Summoner over Chef’s Delight, would he have ever considered abandoning him to begin with?
His doubts only deepened with every new vision he witnessed. The sheer horror of it all numbed him, leaving him unable to process anything.
Still, he knew his friend hadn’t acted out of malice—only desperation. The enemies Soren was forced to confront were truly terrifying. And with Mistress Solyara bound to the Temple by Her responsibility over the subspace, he was forced to make a last minute decision. One that would determine both of their trajectories…
Indeed, it wasn’t just him who was weak. Soren had also doubted his own strength. He feared that the same fate that befell Cassia might also claim Myrin as well. And so, he decided to abandon him. To not allow him to face the dangers he was forced to confront.
But even so, Myrin couldn’t accept it. For what have I toiled all this time, if not to aid you in your goals?... What had started as simply a mission to aid Soren in bringing about the new Age the Mistress desired, had already transformed into something much more personal.
I wanted to help you, you damned bastard!
As the words echoed in his mind, he continued forcing himself to climb more and more, not allowing the piling snow to entomb him in these frozen wastes. The distant cave slowly grew bigger in his eyes—he knew he was getting close. Despite this, the visions didn’t end. In fact, they only became more detailed.
A part of him began to suspect that the cave itself was behind it. Something inside these strange caves was allowing him to witness the history of the continent itself. He thought about avoiding it and heading in a different direction, but by now, he was already close to freezing to death. He needed a place to rest in, even if it meant subjecting himself to more of Yarian’s demise…
Eventually, by some miracle, he was able to achieve it.
He had entered the cave!
But just as he was about to relax, a strange scene suddenly emerged in his mind, leaving him utterly petrified.
A vision had surfaced—one that depicted a platinum-haired woman clinging gently to her own murderer’s cheek. A young man stood before her in winter magi robes, his cone hat nowhere to be seen, exposing a crown of chestnut-colored hair. His hands were wrapped tightly around an invisible blade, driving it straight into the innocent woman's chest.
The horror and despair in Myrin’s eyes mirrored the murderer’s own. It was as though he had been forced into the man’s place—made to witness the ethereal smile she wore in her final moments. And even as the blade was driven deeper, her star-filed eyes continued to shine, carrying a radiance full of hope for the future.
In that moment, only a single word managed to escape his lips.
“Why.”