Maybe it was because in this place there was only twilight, that it made it seem as if time had stood still, or maybe it was the ash that was now so thick that it was nearly impossible to see for more than twenty feet except you had high perception, but more Siphons were dying than was being noticed, and all of this was adding up.
When the Healers began to fall, the tide of calamity was fixed, and at the moment, only a miracle could change it.
But the gods were dead, and there were no more miracles than those that could be found inside their veins.
Previously, the rain of elemental and occultic attacks had lit up the skies, especially when the talents of the candidates were increasing, and they had been the first line of defense, and for hours, they had been bombarding the spawns, burning, freezing, shattering, and melting them.
But the spawns kept coming.
One of the first candidates to really feel the upgrade from the ash, the girl with copper hair and dragon-fire was the first to falter without the presence of healers.
Her flames had been hotter than any forge, bright enough to blind, hot enough to melt stone, but it meant her Lumina Vein was also under serious strain and needed to be healed constantly, and she had been burning for hours, and her pools were empty.
The talismans that were supposed to last weeks were exhausted in matters of hours, and her potions had turned to ash in her mouth.
She raised her hands one more time. A thin tongue of flame licked at the spawns, and although a dozen died, that was nothing in comparison to the scale of this fight.
A spawn leaped over the shield wall and took her head before she could scream… Her fire died with her.
Her death was like a sign of what was to come; the shield-bearers who had been standing at the front, keeping the squishier attackers, were now failing in their purpose.
Their talents were not flashy. They were not meant to be, as they were meant to endure, but even stone could crack under the slow drip of water, what more an unending tide of abomination.
The first shield shattered at the three-hour mark, and surprisingly, it was not a dramatic failure nor was it a heroic last stand. The metal simply gave way, as the enchantments were exhausted, and the will of the woman holding it was finally broken.
She had partly been the reason why the girl who controlled dragon fire died a moment later, and she stood for a while with nothing but her arm raised against the tide, her mind too tired to even contemplate what was happening as she had been moving on autopilot for a while.
"Dad… where are you? I am so tired."
The spawns took her and tore her apart in seconds.
The gap in the wall was quickly filled as another shield-bearer stepped into her place, his face pale, and his hands shaking.
He would last another hour… Maybe less.
®
Theron's Rune Wolf had stopped moving. It stood in the ash, with its flanks heaving, and its yellow eyes dim.
The black blood from the gash on its flank had dried to a crust. After all of this time, it had killed thousands and had torn through spawns like a scythe through wheat. But it was old, now it was tired, even if it was a Berserker.
These creatures did not bleed the way normal prey would, and the wolf could not gain power from their blood. Normally, with every kill it made, the wolf grew stronger until it became a storm of blood and slaughter that could devastate an entire continent if no one powerful enough stood in its path.
Originally, Theron was looking for a chance to give this wolf a rebirth in blood and slaughter and this place should have been the place where the power of this beast shone, but everything about this place was wrong, and if he was not careful, the most powerful beast he had ever come across would die before it could shake away the weight of age that was holding it down.
The Sky Hunter circled above, its flight ragged, its shadow no longer slowing the spawns. Its wing was torn, its talons were cracked because it had been diving for hours, and it could not dive anymore.
The Deep Crawler had not returned. Theron could still feel it, somewhere beneath the earth. It was alive, but it was not fighting.
Rather, the beast seemed to be hiding or waiting; however, Theron could not be sure, since they came to this place, he could no longer be sure what the Deep Crawler was up to, and every chance of communication was fading as its responses were making less sense.
He did not call for it. Theron was afraid that what might answer would no longer be the beast he knew.
Nearly all the beasts brought into this place by other participants were dead, and they had been the ones bearing some of the weight for their beasts.
"Big Black, stay behind me for the moment and rest. I will hold for as long as possible."
The Rune Wolf growled, but it was old and wise and knew that without resting, it would perish here.
It hurried behind its master and closed its eyes to heal. With the influx of ash in its body, there was a chance that its Runes could get a new mark, bringing rejuvenation.
The wolf glanced at the woman standing a few dozen feet away with the singing blade that had slowly gone silent as the hours passed, and huffed in disdain, so even metal could go quiet.
Sera's blade was still sharp, but the music was gone, replaced by a dull scraping sound as the metal grinded against bone.
Her talent was exhausted, and the pools that she once believed were far too deep were now empty. The steel that had been an extension of her will was slowly becoming just steel, as she had to be borrowing more power from the blade than she was comfortable with.
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