33 Repercussions

The sky over Bayam was swept by storms and thunder. Rain poured down over the capital, quenching the fires that had nearly brought it down. Its harsh droplets rained down on the rubble, smothering the cries and sobs of innumerable people.

Harrow Gaunt landed on scorched ground, his countenance stormy. "How is the situation?" He addressed his inquiry to Jahn Kottam, Archbishop and Saint of the Church of Storms.

"Grave, Cardinal Harrow." John Kottam spoke severely. "The base has been completely destroyed, and there are no survivors. They made certain of that. And Bayam is in ruins; we're still tallying casualties, but we may estimate more than..." He closed his eyes and said, "100000.."

Harrow's electric eyes blazed at Kottam. "I was not asking about what happened." He spoke as lightning blazed across the sky, followed by thunderclaps.

John Kottam bowed his head completely, his blue hair drenched from the rain. "The resistance is mobilising as we speak. They want to use turmoil to grab control of the entire archipelago. If nothing is done, it will almost certainly fall into their hands." He reported with a suppressed quiver in his voice.

Harrow clenched his jaw. "Hold down the fort for Loen."

"Yes, Cardinal." John Kottam responded swiftly, his head still bowed, not daring to look at that enraged angel. Then he swiftly left amidst the stormy winds to carry out the order.

Harrow looked at the sky. "How bad is it?" He asked Ariana, the Angel of Concelament, who appeared silently near him.

"The Southern Continent," Ariana said serenely. "is liberated."

Harrow Gaunt closed his eyes for a second as lightning streaked across the sky, then opened them gravely. "How could such an operation go undetected until the very end?"

"We have a job to do, Harrow." Ariana said succinctly. "Regardless of the truth,"

Harrow Gaunt exclaimed exasperatedly. "All right, then! We might as well be done with it. Though I personally think this is a gamble…"

"Our opinions matters not." Ariana said simply.

Harrow Gaunt opened his mouth to retort, but looking at her perpetually inscrutable face, he sighed. "Let's go."

———————

Backlund, Loen Kingdom.

Audrey walked by the windows, looking at the fog mixed with pale yellow and iron-black colours rapidly dispersing. When she saw the heavy rain that was incompatible with winter, her heart felt more at ease. But there was still a tinge of worry as she headed towards her father's room.

She reached for the door, but she froze as she heard whispers from within.

"He is gone.." Earl Hall said. "It is gone."

"Everything is gone…"

Audrey had never heard her father sound so broken and fragile.

"Husband, what actually happened?" Caitlyn Hall spoke, her concern evident in her voice.

"Alfred, the colonies, the bases," Earl Hall said, "all of them, Caitlyn…"

There was a stumble, followed by the sound of a vase breaking, but Audrey wasn't so sure, for she clutched her chest tightly.

"Please, please tell me," Caitlyn said, "you are jesting…"

There was only silence, silence so heavy and oppressive that Audrey felt she couldn't breathe, and she ran as the sorrowful screams of her mother rang in her ears, filling everything. It made her heart pound painfully against her chest.

Susie followed her, calling to her in worry, but she locked herself within her room and crashed against her door, breaking down in tears.

"No.." Audrey wheezed, resting her back on the door. "No, no, no, no, no…."

"Alfred…"

Her heartbreaking sobbing mirrored that of every mother, daughter, father, brother, and lover who were slowly receiving the news from the Southern Continent.

———————

Forsaken Land of Gods.

"My lord.." Ouroboros reported silently. "He succeeded."

The shadows that blanketed him stirred as the voice reverberated throughout them. "Give him my offer after his coronation."

"Yes, my lord." Ouroboros bowed.

"Medici has returned…" the shadows continued hoarsely. "And he is going after him."

Ouroboros slightly froze at the mention of that name, then nodded impassively. "I will see to him."

The shadows calmed down, leaving Ouroboros all to himself in reckoning silence. "Medici…" he whispered under his breath, a touch of emotion blooming in his ever-impassive eyes. "As foolish as always…"

He smiled.

—————

Feynapotter.

Grace Castiya, the Ancestor of the Castiya family, brooded on her throne. She was an archangel—the Hand of Order—who had managed to survive the dark times of the Fourth Epoch and even came out on top; her family was ruling one-fourth of the continent under her order, after all.

But even she had to admit that what happened in the past few hours was epochal. Something so significant like this hadn't happened since the end of the fourth epoch.

The Southern Continent was liberated.

She could literally feel it in her senses. The twisted order that the little George established in the East Balam collapsed like a sandcastle hit by waves, and with that, he lost the title of Emperor along with any hopes of becoming the Black Emperor.

It was almost comical; Castiya suppressed a bark of laughter, considering how much effort and work he had put into it, only for it all to go down the drain. However, she knew better than to think it was the end of him.

Chaos and Disorder would soon take over the world, and George, slimy snake that he was, would completely take advantage of the situation; she wouldn't even be surprised if he managed to survive till the end.

There was also a high chance that the Gods would make their move in light of all that happened. Whatever that might be, she knew it would push the world into war regardless.

War…

Her kingdom was unaffected by the Reaper and his organisation's onslaught as they had no colonies or oversea military bases; nevertheless, despite this, she knew that even they couldn't escape what was going to happen.

Earth Mother always opted to remain neutral, but with the situation with Reaper, "She" sure won't continue to maintain "Her" stance.

Speaking of the Reaper, he was an enigma through and through. Castiya, despite all her powers, still wasn't sure of the identity of the Reaper, which was enveloped in mysteries. She had her guesses, though, but none were plausible enough.

But she was certain about one thing about the Reaper: he was planning on becoming the Death. It was all too obvious for her, and the Reaper was capable enough, unlike the little George. After all, he managed to slay Suah, the Abomination of the World, in the Berserk Sea and even pushed the God of Knowledge and Wisdom to personally act.

All in all, the Reaper's ascension to Death was something that the Evernight Goddess and the God of Combat wouldn't want to see. This would ultimately boil down to the War of Gods, which hadn't happened since the Fall of Death.

Grace felt a headache at that revelation, but she shoved it aside, focusing on the situation at hand. Before her throne stood her descendent, the King of Feynapotter Kingdom, who was waiting for her instructions on how to respond to the situation.

"Adopt a wait-and-see approach," she decided, tapping the armrest of her throne. "Nevertheless, start preparing for war."

"Is it truly unavoidable?" the King said, his voice strained.

"Great powers are at play here, Henrik." Grace said, humming under her breath. "Neither I nor you can stop what is to come." She paused in a moment of grimness. "Prepare. That's all we can do."

The King, Henrik Castiya, bowed to Grace. "I will see to it, Ancestor."

———————

Illiniza, Southern Continent.

The Headquarters of Numinous Episcopate.

Bernadette Gustav hated Lucien Eggers. Because of him, she had to abandon her entire life on the Northern Continent. She was now a fugitive, wanted across the Northern Continent for assisting and abetting the rebel armies of Balam—that's what the northern people were calling Numinous Episcopate.

You could assume this was nothing to her, considering she was the Queen of Pirates, but these two situations were completely different. When she was the Queen of Pirates, she could at least freely travel around the Northern Countries as long as she kept her head down, but now, if she dared to step into the Northern Continent, she would be immediately besieged by angels of the orthodox churches.

To top it all off, there was a kill-at-sight order on her from Loen and Intis.

Bernadette Gustav sighed, rubbing her temples. To be honest, she knew Lucien wasn't fully to blame for her predicament; after all, it was her choice to accept his blessing and his arrangement, albeit knowing full well that once she did, there was no coming back.

And now she was reaping what she had sown.

The Queen Mystic gazed at the stars adorned in the dark blanket thrown around the world by the Evernight Goddess. Her chaotic heart was slowly calming down in the serenity of the night.

She was standing on the balcony of the room of the Numinous Episcopate headquarters that had been temporarily assigned to her. The headquarters, as expected, were cold, bizarre, and draughty, befitting the organisation that worshipped the Death, yet even she can't ignore their strange luxuriousness that brought repose to her soul.

'Death is strange.' Bernadette thought as she turned back and began walking towards the bedroom, which was well protected under her enchantments—there was nothing wrong with being cautious.

She wanted to get some rest after making all the preparations for her organisation, Elemental Dawn, to relocate to the Southern Continent. She even notified Cattleya of her decision, advising her to be cautious and avoid the Northern Continent as well, notwithstanding the fact that her little girl should already be steering her ship at full speed to the Southern Continent to locate her.

She was unconcerned about this operation as her organisation only operated in the seas and colonies. And now that almost all the navy of the Northern Countries was gone in the assault, this operation was bound to be successful. Even if there were any hindrances, she wouldn't hesitate to personally deal with them.

As she brooded on her current situation, she reached for the hand of the door in the balcony, but before she could open it, her senses tingled.

Bernadette turned immediately to witness Lucien floating before her balcony, his metallic wings flapping silently in the light of the stars. "May I?" He asked in a polite tone.

She frowned inwardly, half wondering why he was here and half fretting that the tranquilly she had finally attained would be disturbed by his appearance. Nevertheless, her face didn't betray her emotions as she nodded silently, inviting him to sit at the table at the edge of the balcony.

"Sorry for dropping in like this," Lucien said as they sat down, his wings melting away into the darkness of night.

"It's fine." Bernadette shook her head, her face lit by stars.

Lucien hummed. "You look tried."

"I am." Bernadette admitted, her impassiveness melting away with his words. Today was just too much for her, so she couldn't bother to continue acting for someone who could see through her façade regardless.

"Good." Lucien praised her with a smile on his lips.

"What?" Bernadette pressed, unnerved.

"As the saying goes, beauty is how we feel on the inside." Lucien said quietly, pointing to his chest. "You should try to follow it." He indicated her heart. "Drop your perpetual mask and express yourself more, for you..." he ceased suddenly, as if comprehending what he was about to say next, but he proceeded with a light smile. "Are truly beautiful, then."

Bernadette blinked. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Oh, I am sorry..." Lucien groaned, but his voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Was I that obvious?"