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Choosing second to come first

It begins a bit rough but improves as it progresses just due to it being my first work, the world as everyone knew it changed, John though refused to bend or bow, well others seemed to be corrupted and changed by there choices John kept his sanity, or rather had no sanity to hold onto as the voices in his head that others beside his best friend dismissed as imaginary become more prominent, as he sets out to make his mark he learns the nature of the changes to the world, finding out more and striving to get stronger and to kill the so called gods who where responsible for it, but everything comes at a cost. So just a small heads up, it starts a little rough but I can promise it Improves as the chapters go on, a bit slow but it's my first real novel so hope you all enjoy it :-) Ps. This story is writing itself, so all the twists and turns are by its own choice as I'm just the one putting it on digital paper as odd as that sounds, share a stone if you like it and I'll also try to keep as consistent as I can with updates.

Coronis_Nocturn · สมัยใหม่
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97 Chs

Chapter 26: Clash of the Titans

Chapter 26: Clash of the Titans

From the various doors, many people and creatures seemed to march forth: ogres and trolls with thick skin and brown hides covering them, humans in both pristine and shining medieval armour and silvery chain mail, humans in a variety of different-coloured robes, some carrying staffs made of what looked like pure gold, others made from flawless crystal. Werewolves mingled among them along with giants coming up behind them. A seemingly constant flow of beings made up an army of at least three hundred beings. Even a few futuristic armoured individuals could be seen in the crowd, their existence standing out among the old armoured humans. Above them, wings spread out as if a protective cover. Dwarfing the army the keeper had brought forth stood three western dragons of various descriptions. One seemingly decaying, covered in a layer of sickly green skin instead of scales and various gashes and wounds littering its body. The next one bright gold, its scales shining and making it resemble a bright sun in a dark night, tiny sparks of current bouncing around its scales. The final one a deep brown like mud, its body seemingly dripping and running, but nothing falling from it. Its scales and skin looked cracked like baked earth under the sun. What all of them had in common though was a mark upon their heads and bright burning red eyes. Looking closer, each and every being and person brought forth by the Keeper seemed to have that trait, be it on their forehead, helmet, or even the hood of their robe. They all had the same mark and burning red eyes.

"Hahahaha, tremble, little monkey, before the might of one of my smallest armies! This is but a fraction of my true strength, yet more than enough to meet my goal of claiming you. Built up from only a few years of harvest, these are the shells of the weakest ones who gave themselves over to me and accepted my offer. Soon you will join them, and I shall take all those who follow you and add them as well. I shall brand them and lock their consciousness in eternal agony to make them suffer as punishment for your refusal. And as for you, I will make you accept my offer by breaking your body and mind, having my offer be the only way to escape the pain and torment!" The Keeper laughed and roared as he floated behind his army of just over a hundred. John only kept watching him, even while chained, the grin never left his face.

From the void emerged two eastern dragons, one black as night, the other grey with a faint smoky aura that seemed to float around it. A human-sized snake slithered between them, its scales a mix of green and black, bright yellow eyes looking at the Keeper's forces. For a split second, as impossible as it may seem, it licked its scaly lips. various angels, both with white wings and black, came through next, carrying swords and spears that floated in the air. Two large hulking red-skinned creatures came out next, one wielding a large butcher's knife while wearing a dirty apron, the other with a broken horn in a pair of black shorts and a jagged sword. Various stitches covered their large bodies, and a pair of wicked curved horns adorned their heads. Skeletons of various types followed in tattered and worn clothes and rusted armour. Slimes seemed to inhabit their bony frames, with a lich following closely behind them. The lich held a frozen sceptre in its hand and wore a pristine blue robe that contrasted the skeletal soldiers it seemed to lead. Alongside him, a leshy seemed to walk, with leaves and branches seemingly growing out of it. It carried a twisted wooden staff to help it walk. Seeping from the void, a black-clad figure glided out, a snarling Oni mask firmly in place. The figure wore a black skintight suit and a red sash with a sword strapped to its back, along with many throwing knives strapped all over itself, blending in almost perfectly with its suit. A strange octopus-like creature was next, gliding through the air straight to John and settling on his shoulder. Its skin changed colours constantly, its two small watery eyes observing him and the world around it. The last thing to come from the void could best be described as a walking mountain, a giant of cracking and craggy rocks, slowly forcing itself through the void to join the rest of John's forces.

"Funny, this isn't all mine either, merely the ones who managed to answer my call. Now shall we see who is stronger? I can guarantee you will be the one to lose," John said, forcing himself up fully. The chains now loosened, instead of restraining him, they wrapped around him like a pet. The ends formed points and wrapped around his arms yet did not hinder his movements.

And just like that, as if a silent signal was given the battlefield trembled beneath the weight of the approaching forces. The ogres and trolls charged with a primal fury, their thick hides offering protection as they brandished weapons ranging from crude clubs to small trees. The ground itself seemed to groan in protest as their onslaught bore down upon John's assembled allies.

In response, the two eastern dragons took to the skies with powerful beats of their wings. The black dragon's scales absorbed the light around it, rendering it a living shadow against the rooms fake sky. It unleashed a torrent of icy breath that froze the very air, turning parts of the floor into a treacherous frozen terrain. Swinging its massive tail, it swept through the charging trolls, sending them toppling like brittle statues.

Beside it, the grey dragon exuded an aura of mystique, its form shrouded in smoky wisps that seemed to drift away like echoes of a fading dream. As it swooped low, its breath left behind a swirling mist that distorted vision and cast an eerie silence over the battlefield. With a sudden lunge, it descended upon the ogres, its claws raking through their ranks, leaving behind an ethereal mist in its wake.

Slithering through the chaos, the snake moved with a graceful, almost hypnotic elegance. Its scales caught the light in a mesmerizing display, a dance of green and black that concealed its intentions. Its bright yellow eyes darted between enemies, its forked tongue tasting the charged atmosphere as if relishing the anticipation of battle as it bit those who it passed and slipping away just as quickly to the next foe.

The white winged angels radiated a divine light that seemed to lighten up the hall slightly, their weapons blazing with righteous fire. The clash of their swords with those of the Keeper's soldiers sent forth blinding flashes of light and heat.

Next to them, angels with black wings moved with an enigmatic grace, their forms a study in contrast to their light counterparts. Darkness clung to their every move, obscuring their intentions and leaving behind an unsettling void. Their strikes resonated with a sense of calculated mystery, as if their actions were guided by a reality that lay beyond understanding.

As the two red-skinned creatures surged forward, the one with the butcher's knife hacked through the keepers armoured forces with reckless abandon, its massive blade cleaving through armour and bone alike as a true butcher would to meat on a chopping board. Beside it, its broken horned companion wielded a jagged sword with a bloodlust bordering on madness, its strikes carrying the weight of primal chaos destroying any foe it struck. The skeletal warriors followed behind them, tattered cloths and rusty armour concealing the slimes that wriggled and flowed within their bony frames. These strange creatures burst forth, oozing acidic tendrils that dissolved the weapons and sometimes armour of the Keeper's forces that came to close.

The lich living up to its reputation commanded a mastery over death itself. Its sceptre emanated an aura of dread that sent shivers down spines, and its pristine blue robe stood in stark contrast to the skeletal soldiers it led. Beside the lich, the leshy harnessed ancient druidic magics, summoning the forces of nature to its aid. Roots erupted from the earth, ensnaring foes and draining their vitality, sowing chaos within the enemy forces.

From in and out the void emerged a figure draped in shadows, the snarling visage of an Oni mask concealing its true intentions. Clad in black from head to toe, it glided through the battlefield with an uncanny grace, a master of stealth and precision sniping at the Keeper's werewolves and disappearing once more as if it wasn't there at all well the otherworldly creature, resembling an octopus, floated beside John, its shifting colours and fluid movements adding an aura of surreal confusion to the fray.

The walking mountain of jagged rocks rumbled forward, each step causing the ground to quake beneath its colossal weight. Its gargantuan fists struck the earth with bone-shaking force, sending shockwaves that reverberated through the Keeper's forces, knocking them off balance and creating opportunities for John's allies to strike.

At the heart of the chaos stood John himself, a force to be reckoned with. His chains once bindings now deadly weapons that moved almost as if they were living creatures, striking with blinding speed and lethal precision. He fought side by side with his allies, his movements a mix of calculated strategy and raw power. His eyes blazed with determination, his very presence a beacon of unwavering resolve amidst the swirling storm of battle, his fatigue and pain from the waking world being forced back by sheer will power as he threw himself into this battle.

The clash of weapons, the roar of dragons, and the echoes of magic reverberated through the air, creating a symphony of chaos. The battlefield was alive with the dance of steel and the incantations of power, the outcome remained uncertain, tipping on the scales from one side to the other as the forces of John and the Keeper continued to collide with a ferocity that defied the very laws of nature.

The battle ragging on, the field a testament of triumph and sacrifice. Amidst the chaos, John's forces displayed unwavering valour, but not without losses. The clash of arms claimed some of the celestial angels, their radiant forms falling like shooting stars from the sky, leaving behind trails of fading light as they fell.

The black-winged angels weaving through the fight with an enigmatic grace, their every move leaving behind a trail of dark mystery. Their calculated strikes found vulnerabilities in the Keeper's forces; their tactics as intricate as the constellations that are seen in the night sky but even so some of them felt but insuring many of the Keeper's forces would fall with them.

John's eastern dragons fought with a ferocity that shook the very earth beneath them. The black dragon's shadowy form darted through the skies, its icy breath and slashing claws leaving a trail of devastation. However, a roar of pain echoed as the sickly green western dragon focused its attention, unleashing a noxious cloud that wounded the black dragon's ethereal form. The grey dragon's smoke-like aura clashed with the golden western dragon's dazzling radiance, their titanic forms locked in an aerial dance that painted the sky in flashes of black and gold.

Slowly the tide of battle turned to John's favour further as the red-skinned creatures with jagged horns unleashed their primal fury. There sheer force of slaughter claiming many of the Keeper's troops as the skeletal warriors, bolstered by the slimes within them, held steadfast against the rest of the Keeper's forces, their bony forms enduring strikes that would have felled lesser beings at the cost of losing parts of themselves, some even sacrificing themselves entirely to ensure victory for there comrades.

The lich and the leshy wove their ancient magics into the fray, each incantation resonating with the ebb and flow of the battle. The lich's sceptre emanated chilling waves that shattered the resolve of their foes, while the leshy's druidic powers harnessed the very essence of the earth, creating tremors that sent the ground beneath the Keeper's forces into upheaval.

From the depths of the void, the enigmatic figure with the Oni mask moved with a calculated finesse, its blade striking with precision that seemed almost preternatural as it continued to remove the werewolves from the fight. Beside John, the octopus-like creature changed colours in rapid succession, its watery eyes focusing on weak points within the enemy ranks, causing momentary confusion and disarray wherever it went giving John the opportunity to eliminate them as he went.

The walking mountain of rocks, despite its immense strength, suffered blows that shattered pieces of its stony form. But with each fissure, it emitted shockwaves that reverberated through the battlefield, a testament to its indomitable will and refusal to fall.

While both sides suffered casualties, the Keeper's forces faced a catastrophic loss in this fight. The ogres and trolls were battered and broken, their thick hides and fur armour proving no match for the combined might of John's forces. The humans in shining armour fought hard, but their ranks dwindled as the angels and Johns forces swept through them like a tidal wave.

The Keeper's giants were brought down by a combination of tactics and brute force of the skeletal soldiers and the leshy's magic, leaving the field strewn with their colossal fallen bodies. The futuristic armoured individuals were overwhelmed by the varied abilities of John's lich and leshy, their advanced technology proving no match for the convergence of ancient magics and supernatural powers.

Amidst the chaos, the Keeper's western dragons remained, but they were battered and wounded, their once-imposing forms now reduced to a semblance of their former glory. The decaying dragon's sickly green hide was marred by wounds inflicted by the black eastern dragon's icy breath, while the golden dragon's scales were scorched by the grey eastern dragon's ethereal flames. The deep brown dragon, its hide cracked like parched earth, unleashed a final, desperate barrage of fiery breath, but its strength waned.

As the battle neared its climax, the Keeper's forces were on the brink of defeat. His army lay in ruins. Through it all, John stood resolute, his forces standing by his side, the Keeper's forces shattered and diminished, a shadow of their former strength.

As the clash came to its end, the Keeper's dragons were the last remnants of his once-formidable force. The battlefield was a scene of chaos and devastation, with the ground scarred and the air crackling with energy. John's forces, though diminished, some angels having perished, the lich and leshy somewhat injured and many skeleton solders having fallen they all still fought on with unwavering determination.

The Keepers decaying western dragon's sickly green hide had become a patchwork of wounds, oozing ichor and foul energy. It unleashed a final, feeble breath attack that sputtered and dissipated in the air, its life force waning rapidly. With a defiant roar, the black eastern dragon surged forward, its form flickering between solid and ethereal as it phased through the decaying dragon's weakened defences. Claws like obsidian razors tore into the rotting flesh, a final icy breath extinguishing the life force that clung to the decaying dragon's form. With one last shudder, the decaying dragon collapsed into a heap of lifeless flesh.

The golden western dragon, once a beacon of brilliance, had its radiant scales marred by scorch marks and wounds. Its blinding aura had dimmed, and the sparks of current that had danced across its form now fizzled out. The grey eastern dragon, its smoky aura forming tendrils that twisted through the air, coiled around the golden dragon's form. With a tremendous surge of ethereal flames, the grey dragon engulfed the golden dragon, the scorching heat melting even the most radiant scales. As the flames subsided, the grey dragon released its grip, and all that remained of the once-golden dragon was a smouldering heap of molten metal and scorched bones.

The deep brown western dragon, its form resembling baked earth, struggled to muster the energy for another attack. Its body trembled, cracks running through its once-imposing frame. With a final defiant bellow, it unleashed a torrent of fiery breath, but the flames flickered weakly and dispersed in the wind. The black eastern dragon, its shadowy form darting like a Specter, approached the struggling dragon with a predatory grace. As the flames subsided, the black dragon's form solidified, and with a powerful lunge, it sank its claws into the deep brown dragon's body. The force of the impact shattered the dragon's already brittle form, and with a thunderous crash, it collapsed into a heap of shattered rock.

The battlefield fell silent as the Keeper's dragons were vanquished, their forms fading into nothingness. The once-mighty creatures, symbols of the Keeper's power among this army, were reduced to memories. Amidst the carnage, John's forces stood victorious, albeit battered and weary. The ground a mix of fallen from both sides. John himself stood at the forefront, a mixture of exhaustion and triumph in his eyes.

The Keeper, who had watched from the back of where his forces once where, remained the last obstacle. The forces he had brought decimated and vanquished, and his dragons defeated. The battle had come to an end, and in its wake, only the Keeper remained to face John. "How could a stupid monkey like you have beaten my forces, even if they where the lowest of what I have they should have been more than enough to eliminate you and yours, so how!" The keeper roared in defiance, demanding an answer to try and make sense of all that had just happened.

John's hand reached to his side, fingers closing around a length of gleaming chain. With a flick of his wrist, the chain soared through the air like a striking serpent, unerringly finding its mark around the Keeper's leg. The chain coiled around the Keeper's limb with a hiss of magic, binding him and dragging him forward.

The Keeper's startled cry was swallowed by the wind as he was forcefully pulled toward John, his struggles in vain against the unyielding grip of the enchanted chain. He stumbled and fell, landing before John in a cloud of dust and defeat. The chain held him in place, its links pulsating with an otherworldly power that seemed to sap the Keeper's strength.

John's expression was a mixture of weariness and determination as he gazed down at the fallen adversary. The Keeper's attempts to break free from the chain only intensified its hold, each effort draining his energy further. John's voice cut through the tense silence; his words laced with exhaustion but unwavering resolve.

"It's over, Keeper. Your forces have been defeated; your dragons gone, I told you I would win." An exhausted John on his last legs said to him.

The Keeper's eyes burned with a mixture of defiance and desperation; his features twisted in a mask of rage. His voice crackled with residual magic as he snarled, "You may have won this battle, but you cannot beat me. I will make sure you pay for this in blood and torment, this I swear!"

And with that it seemed to roar at John with a surge of energy, the Keeper attempted one final burst of power to try and expand and bloat his body blow himself up and take John with him, but the chain's grip tightened mercilessly, thwarting his efforts, restraining him now as they once had John. John's own weariness was evident though, but his determination remained unshaken. Swinging the other end of the chain, John pierced through the ringed head of the Keeper. However, in one final act of defiance from him, one of the rings making up its head broke off and sliced off John's left arm right as he seemed to meet his temporary end. John knew that an enemy like this would not willingly stay to meet their end but would rather use a proxy for situations like this to remain safe. Thus, John understood that the Keeper might be gone for now but was only temporarily defeated. These were his last thoughts as he felt forward, the last of his energy even in the dream fading away, hoping that when he reawakens in his own world, he will be alright. However, he felt that due to his overexertion, it won't be so simple.

"Collect our fallen and give them a proper burial and rest. Give the order for everyone to begin to gather. I know not when the next chance I get to bring us together may be, but hopefully with more of us together we will suffer fewer losses and can cover each other better. Make sure you all also get some rest. You deserve it more than anyone else," were John's last words before he felt himself slip from that world back to the waking world. What was a matter of hours had felt like days.