270 Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy – Pandemic Sluggor (1/2)

Blackheart thought that he was immune to fear, by the grace of the dark gods of his people.

He found out otherwise. His bullox lowed deeply, quaking beneath him at the sight of the woman walking up to him, sensing in her something profoundly terrifying, and mere divine help wasn't calming down his rider's heart.

Nothing had come out of the Warp Rift for a full day. That would have been a great time to rest and eat up and arrange matters for the next day, and indeed a full-out feast was going on behind him... but there was none of the raucous celebration that accompanied such a thing normally.

After all, two ancient titans were standing over on the other side of the battlefield. They had casually wiped out all the Warpbands that had come out since their arrival, and from the way tiny figures had been moving over them, they were very clearly working with the humans, elves, and others.

They were miles away, and everyone could feel every footstep they had taken when they arrived. Now, even more eerily, there was neither sound nor force when they moved at all...

”Hey there. I understand you are the acting Warlord for your forces over here?” the human female asked. Her blue eyes spit him like spears, her golden hair fluttered like a cape, and Blackheart knew that if he tried anything, he was dead.

”I am,” he said simply. It wasn't totally true, but it was true enough that no one else there had anywhere close to his influence and authority, regardless of their tribes. He was strong, murderous, ruthless, and cunning, and all the tribes had seen and acknowledged it. He couldn't rule them, but he could lead them.

”You don't have to worry about the big fellows. They have a job to do, and they are going to do it. Something only they can handle is going to come out of that Rift, so you don't want to get anywhere near it anytime soon.”

Blackheart took that warning straight to heart. It would be like fighting a mountain that could fight back. He had no wish to be close to anything like that.

”I understand your warning.” He didn't say he'd obey, although he would. He would salvage what tiny amount of pride he could muster before her.

”Good. Also, how do you feel about hammering in the final spike to these bastards?”

Blackheart blinked, and a very strange beat thumped in his chest. He could feel a massive stirring, as if the opportunity of a lifetime was unveiling before him. ”What... do you mean?” he asked.

The human female explained in direct, short terms. Blackheart listened closely, his heart seeming to beat stronger with every word this dreadful female spoke...

------------

The Rift was changing color.

As it was basically the main thing everybody was concerned about, the little threads of pus yellow and puke green, rotting black and corrupted brown were immediately noticed, alerts went up... and just about everyone pulled back to at least the Camp, and most even further, being the not-stupid sorts.

I held out my hand to Fuzzy. He growled and flipped me a gold coin, grumbling too loud. There were quiet sniggers and lamentations as those who bet against me paid up.

Most of The Camp was abandoned, and the number of scouts was fading drastically. The Kings, Elder Arg, and a few of the Nulls were on the Ring surrounding the fused lands around the city, but not even the Exemplars really wanted to see what was going on.

The Brothers were watching with interest. The only one not here was Wavespear, who never liked to spend time away from the Waters. He was being called south, and away he went, walking along the Veil. Things were going to happen soon.

Brother Firesword was standing near the two of them, feeling the presence of corruption coming, so invasive it was infecting space itself, making the Rift rot around it. ”That is possibly the second or third most foul Aura I have ever felt,” he admitted out loud. The other Brothers murmured similar agreement, while Shadowknife held up five fingers, and nobody gainsayed him.

”It didn't reach number one for anyone? Should I even be asking?” Briggs queried gruffly.

”Avatar of Skulos, in the East. About thirty-two years ago.” Several of the other Brothers spit to indicate agreement. He waved at Shadowknife without looking. ”Elder Brother has a longer career, and runs into those Outside Creation intermittently, even if they do not fully materialize.”

”One simply does not want to hear the mad singing from the heart of the madness Beyond Creation,” the hyn whispered in his androgynous voice. ”Likewise, the Crawling Herald of the Old Ones... it is a master of hiding its aura, and extending it across time and space, an insidious and infectious rot upon reality...”

I wrinkled my nose. ”Things you have to foil, not just fight, then.” All the Brothers nodded somberly. ”Well, congratulations. What's coming is effectively the same thing... only we get to see it get fought.” Despite themselves, they smiled grimly.

Far above us, Ape and Tyrant huffed together, watching the Rift with the calm patience of predators defending their territory. They could naturally feel the incredible aura of rot coming out of the Rift.

”I see streams of pestilence spreaders coming out of the Rift,” I noted, Mask of Clarity zooming in on thin swarms starting to wind down from the infinity beyond the Rift. They'd be spreading a necroic plague that only magic or being Forsaken could stop, a harvest of death and rot pleasing to Riggibuhl.

The streams wound through the air in our direction, because really, the big fellows were just too big and noticeable. They began to thicken, forming dark clouds whose drone began to build and build and-

Fuego spat.