Chapter 71 - R’hllor
With the fortress taken, Maximus sent a messenger to tell the soldiers it was safe to cross. Hundreds of ships moved in, and dozens of airships began transporting the Legion's to their assigned location.
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The army was split up into three different Legion. The first Legion was led by Alexander and Achilles who would head to the western islands to eliminate the demon's occupation of the islands.
The Second Legion led by Olorin and Dáin II who would head to the Eastern islands, eliminating the demons from occupying the islands. The Third Legion joined by Merlin and Lilith would join up with Maximus at Tyrion to establish a base and rest for three days before launching a combined assault on Valyria with all three Legions.
The three days would be used to allow the 2 other Legions to conquer the islands surrounding Valyria and rest for the final battle.
On the sea, Admiral Thorne had been defending against aerial and sea demons for the past few hours since the battle started.
Admiral Thorne stood on the bridge of her flagship, the Imperial Fury, surrounded by the vast Imperial Fleet. 800 ships of the line encircled the island, their cannons blazing as they repelled wave after wave of demonic attackers. Smoke and fire filled the air as demonic creatures attempted to break through the naval blockade, but Thorne and her officers met them with iron and cannons.
"Reload all batteries! Keep them off our flanks!" she ordered, her voice cutting through the chaos of battle. Her officers relayed her commands, and within seconds, another devastating volley erupted from the warships, tearing through the grotesque forms of demonic sea beasts attempting to breach their lines.
Above them, monstrous flying demons with jagged wings and burning eyes swooped down, shrieking as they descended upon the fleet. Harpoon guns and ballistae, manned by expert gunners, fired at the creatures, impaling them mid-flight and sending their bodies plunging into the sea.
From the decks, Imperial archers and mages unleashed their attacks. Arrows tipped with explosive runes found their targets, detonating on impact and reducing demons to smoldering husks. Battle-mages cast powerful spells, summoning wind to throw winged demons off balance and conjuring torrents of fire that turned the sky into an inferno.
A group of larger sea demons, each the size of a galleon, surged forward, their monstrous forms breaking through the waves. They slammed into the hulls of the outermost warships, attempting to capsize them. Thorne narrowed her eyes and turned to her officers.
"Signal the Stormbreaker and Thunder's Wrath! Deploy depth charges!" the depth charges were just steel cannisters filed with TNT.
The two designated warships swiftly maneuvered into position. With a series of deep booms, heavy explosives were launched into the water. Moments later, the sea shook violently as the charges detonated beneath the monstrous attackers. The beasts shrieked and trembled before their bodies were torn apart by the concussive force.
Despite their efforts, the demonic fleet showed no signs of relenting. More creatures emerged from the abyss, accompanied by cursed vessels, ships of blackened bone and metal, their hulls adorned with screaming, tormented souls. These vessels, manned by the damned, sailed forth, attempting to break the Imperial blockade.
"Fire the hellfire rounds. Sink those abominations." Thorne ordered.
The Iron Vow and its surrounding warships adjusted their cannons. With a series of thunderous roars, projectiles streaked across the sky, striking the cursed ships. The vessels erupted into flames, the unholy energies within them combusting in a series of violent explosions.
But the enemy still had more horrors to unleash.
A massive, hulking form rose from the depths, a sea demon of titanic proportions, covered in jagged armor and dripping with dark energy. Its maw opened, revealing rows of serrated teeth large enough to bite a warship in half. As it emerged, the waters around it turned into a maelstrom, dragging Imperial vessels toward its gaping mouth.
Thorne gritted her teeth. "All ships, evasive maneuvers! Focus fire on that thing!"
The fleet sprang into action. Cannons shot, harpoons were launched, and battlemages focused their most powerful spells. The creature screeched as barrages of cannon fire blasted into its armor. Still, it pressed forward, undeterred.
Then, from above, Nyxena descended. Her dark form sliced through the air; her glowing eyes locked onto the beast. With a guttural roar, she unleashed a wave of dark magic, striking the sea demon with unrelenting force. The beast thrashed violently as its life force was drained, its body withering beneath Nyxena's power. Within moments, it let out one final, echoing shriek before collapsing back into the abyss.
Thorne exhaled sharply, but there was no time to celebrate. More demonic vessels approached from the horizon. However, the tide was turning. With Nyxena's arrival and the fleet's steadfast defense, the blockade would hold.
She turned to her officers. "Signal the main fleet. We hold the line at all costs."
As the battle raged on, the sea burned with the wreckage of fallen demons, and the Imperial fleet stood firm, ensuring that no Demon would leave the region and spread to the rest of the world.
With the naval battle securing the blockade, the legions of the Empire landed upon the shores of Tyria, a city long since corrupted by the demonic presence. The First Legion, led by Alexander and Achilles, stormed the western islands, cutting down hordes of demons in brutal combat. The Myrmidons and Dawnborn spearmen formed unbreakable phalanxes, their shields and spears driving deep into the enemy ranks, while Dothraki archers rained fire from the rooftops.
The Second Legion, under Olorin and Dáin II, advanced from the eastern shores, engaging towering infernal war machines and demonic constructs. The dwarven engineers worked swiftly, rigging explosive charges to weaken the structures while the Black Guard of Naggarond used their ethereal blades to carve through the monstrosities.
Meanwhile, Maximus and the Third Legion, reinforced by Merlin and Lilith, defended the city of Tyria. Wyverns and Valkyries dominated the skies, battling winged horrors that sought to retake the demonic stronghold. Maximus, atop Nyxara, led devastating aerial assaults, his twin blades carving through demonic generals as Nyxara's dark flames engulfed entire battalions.
On the ground, Merlin's magic split the earth, sending waves of arcane energy that incinerated anything in their path. Lilith, wielding forbidden sorcery, summoned ethereal warriors that struck terror into the hearts of the demonic horde.
The battle raged for hours, but as the sun began to set, Tyria's defenses held strong. The Imperial forces stood victorious, though at great cost. The ruins of the city would serve as a staging ground for the final assault on Valyria.
With Tyria secured, the three legions rested and reinforced their ranks. For three days, healers tended to the wounded, blacksmiths repaired weapons, and commanders devised their strategies. The final battle was near.
Scouts reported that Valyria itself had become a fortress of the damned, its historically grand walls now covered in writhing flesh and veins of infernal energy. R'hllor's forces had gathered in full strength, waiting for the inevitable confrontation.
On the eve of the march, Maximus stood before his gathered warriors. "Tomorrow, we face the source of this darkness. We do not fight for conquest, nor for glory, we fight to reclaim this place from the abyss. The fate of all hangs in the balance."
A roar of approval surged through the ranks. The final battle was at hand.
The sky above Valyria burned with crimson fire as the three Legions advanced. Demonic war horns echoed through the ruins, and the air was filled with the scent of brimstone and death. The battlefield was unlike any other, Valyria's once proud streets were now rivers of molten rock, its towering structures fused with flesh, breathing like living entities. From atop the blackened walls, R'hllor's demonic horde shrieked and howled, awaiting the slaughter.
Maximus led the charge, his twin blades in hand infused with his new demi-god power. Behind him, the Imperial Legions charged forward, clashing against the demonic army. The battle erupted into screams, steel, and dark sorcery.
Achilles and Alexander led their warriors through the western flank, cutting through twisted abominations with brutal efficiency. Achilles, danced through the battlefield, his spear a blur of death, while Alexander's tactical precision ensured every maneuver was executed to perfection. The Myrmidons and Dawnborn cut a bloody swath through demonic champions, while Dothraki horsemen trampled the grotesque spawn beneath their hooves.
Olorin and Dáin II fought at the eastern front, where demonic siege engines rained hellfire upon the advancing troops. Dwarven war machines retaliated with explosive payloads, bringing down the monstrous constructs. Olorin's staff blazed with fire, burning away the darkness, while Dáin led his ironclad dwarven brothers into the thick of battle, axes cleaving demon and fiend alike.
In the skies, Nyxena and the Valkyries battled winged horrors, their celestial lances piercing through leathery wings and setting the creatures ablaze. Wyverns and drakes clashed in aerial duels, their roars shaking the battlefield below. The very heavens were a storm of divine and infernal energies.
At the heart of the battle, Maximus pressed forward, carving his way toward the great obsidian temple where R'hllor awaited. He cut through waves of demons, his demi-god powers making him unstoppable. With a mere swing of his sword, he vaporized dozens of enemies. His footsteps shattered the ground beneath him, and his mere presence sent weaker fiends fleeing in terror.
As he reached the temple steps, the earth trembled. The doors parted, and from within, R'hllor emerged. The dark god stood tall, wreathed in fire and shadow, his crimson eyes burning with malice. His form was monstrous, shifting between solid and ethereal, a living being of rage and destruction.
"So, the mortal who defies the divine has finally come," R'hllor's stated. "You are nothing before me."
Maximus did not waste time with petty dialogue. He launched himself forward, his blades striking against R'hllor's burning form. The impact sent shockwaves across the battlefield. R'hllor retaliated with a blast of hellfire, but Maximus absorbed the flames, his demi-god body negating the weakened dark god's power. He countered with a strike that tore through R'hllor's chest, sending divine energy ripping through his form.
The battle between them was cataclysmic. Every strike shattered the area around them, every clash of steel and fire sent shockwaves through the battlefield. R'hllor summoned chains of molten fire, attempting to bind Maximus, but he shattered them with sheer force. With each wound inflicted upon the dark god, the sky above flickered.
Drawing upon the last of his power, R'hllor attempted to unleash an apocalyptic surge of fire, aiming to incinerate everything in existence. But Maximus, channeling the full might of his power, thrust his twin blades forward, piercing the god's core. A deafening explosion of light and darkness erupted as R'hllor's form began to break apart, his essence unraveling.
"You are no god," Maximus said as he drove his blades deeper. "And this world will never be yours."
With a final cry of defiance, R'hllor's body was consumed in an explosion, his essence torn apart. The dark god was no more.
As the battlefield fell silent, the demonic army lost its cohesion, their master's destruction shattering their will. The Imperial Legions, seeing their moment, pressed the attack. The demons, now leaderless, were annihilated.
When the sun finally rose over Valyria, it shone upon a land freed from darkness. The ruins still smoldered, and the scars of war remained, but victory was theirs. Maximus stood atop the temple ruins. He had done what no man had ever done, he had slain a god or at least the weakened form of a god.
He was already told how if R'hllor could use his actual god form, that he would stand no chance at all.
The war was over.
As the legions gathered in the ruined capital, a new dawn began. The Empire had triumphed, and the world wouldn't have to worry about an invasion.