The Harvester

Chapter 440: East God

A few minutes earlier, as Rakna's Ghost Star was unleashed for the second time, a select number of people heard and sensed the boundaries of the Soul Marble leak out a short-lived burst.

Astraea shuddered and turned around to look at the dome of soul flames. It had mended itself as fast as it had given out, but she had managed to sense 'something' getting out through the cracks and merging with the aura of Tarnished Death.

She frantically observed her surroundings and noticed that the miasma was slowly seeping into the ground instead of spreading.

"{Don't get distracted, woman!}" Tarasque shouted in her mind and she jolted back to reality just in time to raise a wall of tree roots to block a tremendous surge of Sword Intent. She flapped her wings and flew back, her defenses collapsing right after.

She glanced to the right from the corner of her eyes and saw Tarasque charging at Bhumi, whose battle they had joined. The beast collided with the Fallen God, who blocked his gravity magic like it was just another basic attack.

Bhumi's sword raged with Spiritual Intent and cut right through the gravity, causing the land to split into perfect geometric shapes. "{Wake up already, you damn fool…}" Tarasque snarled as he raised his claw, increasing its weight and swiping down at his once-creator.

The undead's eyes glowed dimly and he let go of his weapon. He clenched his fist and struck back with Fist Intent. The two massively unequal physiques clashed but the loser of the exchange was still Tarasque. The repercussion stunned him and Bhumi relentlessly advanced, readying a swing that would surely split the beast in two.

"I don't think so," Ramsa uttered as she dropped from the sky and thrust her spear at the undead god's dominant arm. A flurry of plasma melted right through it, skin to bones, yet he still gripped his sword unyieldingly.

With his other arm, Bhumi crushed his hand to gain access to his sword's handle. He twisted his wrist until blood gushed and flipped the edge of his blade toward Ramsa. "[En--]" He couldn't get the first word out before an arrow hit his back, immediately followed by a dozen more.

On cue, Zikserth struck the god like a crimson bolt. His appearance had gradually changed as the fight went on; he now sported dark red fur on his arms, a wood-like mask on his face, and black thorns coiled around his four limbs.

He was a unique breed of demon; a hybrid of Huldra and Vetala.

A death-seeking demon of the forest.

The thorns digging into his fists drank his blood and sprouted crimson spider lilies. Light gushed out of their petals and engulfed his arm. "[Phlegethon,]" he intoned sharply and all of his power exploded out into a steady, but destructive stream.

Bhumi instinctively used his sword as a shield but failed to protect the outermost bits of his body, which liquefied into a dark, red sap-like substance, as if he was a bleeding tree.

The Fallen God retreated and, at that moment, the sealed but strongest layers of his mind began to emerge to the surface. Sadly, none of it released the control Tarnished Death had over him.

Instead, his awareness of his disadvantaged position led him to turn his attention to the line-up of demons channeling a magic formation in a wide circle around their battlefield. In that moment, his target had changed. His reflexes alone reached the solution he needed; a distraction.

"…!" Zikserth immediately knew what was happening when he saw Bhumi slightly turn his head after falling back. Urgently, he groaned in pain and a pair of dark red wings with leaf-like feathers grew on his back with a gruesome sound.

Simultaneously, Zikserth shot forward like a bullet and Bhumi swung his sword at the demons in the distance. And it ended with the Demon King coughing blood as he blocked the Intent with his own body.

"This…!" Soma's eyes widened in alarm. Bhumi had gained a new level of acumen, but it was not in their favor at all. His expression darkened when he saw the undead swing again. He gritted his teeth and imitated his ally, dashing into the slash's path and erecting a wall of lunar energy.

"That's not good…" Astraea muttered to herself as she rode on Tarasque again. The beast grunted and joined in to protect the demons preparing the sealing formation.

Faruth, Merid, and Norio, among others, were also protecting their troops, but as strong as they were, they could not compare to Bhumi's Spiritual Intent. No amount of demonic power or magic they wielded could deflect his swings by even just a millimeter.

Only Ramsa was located somewhere she could strike back. But that didn't last long either. Bhumi soon decided to give his all once his direct surroundings became empty. Though not enough to perform the East God technique, it was just enough to earn him time for it instead.

With his only functioning arm, he bounced his sword up and down, almost as if he was handling a paintbrush, and spun on his feet. It was a Sword Dance, Ramsa realized. The kind that was akin to casting a spell with one's own body.

The air whistled past Bhumi's blade and Ki began to concentrate around him. Until now, the god had been using a very discreet and efficient Internal Art, without any leakage. But this time, his internal force manifested externally, and, being the closest, Ramsa shuddered.

Once the dance was over, the sound of ringing steel echoed and a torrent of Ki and Intent flooded the area. Faster than sound, it escaped Bhumi's sword and threatened every possible direction.

The sky cleared up, the ground imploded, the atmosphere shrunk, and all lights dimmed. Ramsa coated herself in Solar Energy, avoiding critical injuries, but she was not the sole target.

"Damn it…!" Zikserth cursed as he braced himself. He could try and protect as many of his people as possible, but even with Tarasque, Soma, Astraea, and the demon generals, it was impossible to cover everyone. At this rate, the sealing preparations would be broken and they would lose more than half of their casters.

"{Don't worry!}" In that instant, Astraea's voice reached them all. "{Just protect yourselves!}"

Before they could question it, the Sword Dance reached them. It was like being thrown into a pit of needles where the tips burrowed into your skin layers. They complied with Astraea's words on instinct more than anything else and the landscape around them was sliced apart.

Then, as it advanced upon the terrified demons who stubbornly stood their ground, thousands of wolves burst out from below them. Silver-white flames surged from their eyes down to the tip of their fur and lit up one after another, creating a Lunisolar barricade.

The shockingly high quantity of Lunisolar Blaze halted Bhumi's attack with a clear divide that left no uncertainty. Anybody with working eyeballs could tell which side prevailed.

Zikserth sighed in relief as he saw that, but Soma was far from relieved yet.

"Ramsa, get out of there!" He yelled as he rocketed forward in a flash of moonlight.

But to Ramsa, that warning was useless. How could it help when she witnessed Bhumi complete his stance right in her line of sight? Her face paled, and faster than the idea of fleeing could come to her mind, her body was swallowed by a sense of immensity; like sunk in water and caught in a harsh current.

"[East God.]"

All waters across the Earth promptly stilled. No waves, ripples, or undulations. In fact, some were so static that they frosted, and incongruously, others began to boil but refused to evaporate.

"[Ensi…]" Bhumi uttered and his Intent flowed down his blade. Then, Soma himself was forced to stop, tumbling down, with his body overtaken by numbness. Tarasque tried to intervene too, but no matter how much he manipulated his gravity, the heaviness didn't go away.

"[…Mu Aan.]"

The swordsman's sword fell. And every single drop of water on the surface of the planet vanished without a sound. For a short but torturous second, everyone felt like they were lying dead in the desert, with nothing more than skin on their bones.

As her vision of the world slowed down, Ramsa nearly lost consciousness from just watching the sword create an arc in her direction. But, even then, she saw it in the corner of her eyes. A purple star, fast approaching. Soul power that felt like a powerful and tranquil bonfire.

Ranka's eyes flashed with Cross Sight and her mind connected to her original self.

* * *

Rakna's eyes mirrored his doppelganger's as he fired an overloaded Raja at Tarnished Death. His expression hardened and he looked in a specific direction, speaking up.

* * *

""[Imperial Order!]""

The Dream was breached open by the System's authority.

A curtain of light fell from the sky and enveloped Ramsa, isolating her from the rest of the world for but a mere second. She watched in awe as Bhumi's slash was divided before her. And behind her, as far as any being could see, a thin line of Intent journeyed through space.

One poor demon that had been in its path found himself bisected. The Lunisolar Blaze could not hold the Intent back for even a second. Up above, one of the larger moons in the sky was slashed into two, yet it did not fall apart. The two halves remained so close to each other; they continued to orbit together without deviation.

The Intent eventually whittled down after inflicting the same fate upon dozens of inert asteroids and disappeared after gleaming like fairy dust.

Ramsa hadn't seen it; she had felt it. Just as she felt a warmth snatch and take her away after the light stopped protecting her. Her vision of the world recovered its normal flow and without delay, water returned to the planet with a tremor, as if it had never left.

Oceans and rivers were filled again with the scarce reserves they had possessed. The waves were just as calm as before Bhumi swung and naturally regained their natural behavior.

"…no wonder that bastard called him a 'good pawn'."

Ramsa heard a cold feminine voice and blinked in surprise at what was currently lifting her in a bridal carry. It was definitely a werewolf, and while she initially thought of Rakna, this one had a slender silhouette of sorts that made it appear taller. Furthermore, it possessed no lion mane and its eyes were significantly thinner and sharper.

"…" The Sun Goddess found herself stumped as she realized her current position; her expression stuck between a blush and a resentful scowl.

Ranka ignored her, keeping an eye on Bhumi who was sluggishly lowering his sword after having pushed his ability to the limits. However, she could tell that he was not weakening. Instead, albeit weaker, her Cross Sight could still see it; four elemental incarnations rotating around his sword now that all stances had been performed.

"This is bad…" She muttered with a frown, surprisingly frank. "I didn't expect this. He has enough power to surpass Tarnished Death in pure destructive ability."

"Wha…!" Ramsa yelped as the werewolf lifted her with one hand and allowed her to stand beside her. "Be gentler," the goddess grumbled quietly.

"Listen up!" Ranka shouted, boosting her voice with mana. Everyone focused on her, still reeling from the shock of Bhumi's attack. "We have to disarm him! Cut his arms off or chain him, I don't care; don't give him a chance to swing again!"

Soma and Zikserth didn't even bother to respond, already knowing it themselves.

"And you all! Continue channeling!" The doppelganger shouted at the demons.

The few who had seen one of their own instantly die from Bhumi's strike gritted their teeth with stony faces before filling the gap their fallen comrade had left behind, resuming the formation.

"What is the plan?" Ramsa asked after a moment. "Giving Soma a chance to use his Manifestation was our objective. Is that acceptable to you?"

"Manifestation?" Ranka raised an eyebrow. "I guess that's fine," she replied and conjured a glaive with star energy. "I'll leave that to him and focus my firepower on the 'other problem'," she added as Zikserth charged back in, ferociously storming Bhumi.

"The other problem…?" Ramsa uttered in confusion.

On cue, without perceivable warning, a massive chunk of the planet suddenly morphed out of the ground, rising into a mass of bones vaguely in the shape of an arm and cloaked in death aura. Its size was enough to emulate an eclipse on the Earth's surface. This arm alone was bigger than any of the Pasqats, equivalent to continents and extending above the clouds.

"Where did that come from…?!" The goddess breathlessly muttered.

"Nowhere," Ranka blankly said. "It's always been there. Tarnished Death merely gave it the order to move; nothing else. What you see isn't an arm growing… but the planet growing an arm."

"…!"

"Well, that's my problem though," the doppelganger added and wordlessly, more lunisolar wolves who had been spending hours meditating and accumulating power came out of the ground, all of them with varying sizes but identical appearances. Hundreds of them 'ran' into the air and stood around Ranka like her loyal army.

She unhesitatingly stabbed her weapon into one of them and it melded into the blade, creating a suction that sucked in a dozen more at the same time.

"[Execution,]" she whispered and swung at the giant arm. Then, with a ghastly wave of heat, the air ignited with white-silver flames like light bouncing off mirrors.

It blasted right through the planetary limb and created a hole in its elbow, causing the forearm to tilt like a tree, ripping itself off before it tumbled to the ground.

Ramsa pursed her lips nervously when the arm hit the ground and sent a gust of wind across the planet, ruffling her hair and clothes. 'That much power… in a casual strike?'

"What are you doing?" The female werewolf scowled at her. "Go deal with Bhumi. The wolves are not unlimited; I won't hold on forever."

To prove her words, the planet began to shake once again. But this time, the limbs did not target them specifically. They emerged everywhere on Earth, discarding pretense and wriggling out of the ground like tentacles simply as piled up, dark-colored bones.

"Filth," Ranka spat with a disgusted expression.

'…how grumpy,' Ramsa couldn't help but think; the difference with Rakna was quite stark. She let out a quiet breath and nodded. "We'll leave it to you then," she said and unfurled her wings, ready to fly off. But before she did so, she spoke softly, "And… thank you for saving me," she said and left in a burst of solar arcs.

The doppelganger glanced in her direction and snorted. "Don't thank me just yet…" She muttered as her eyes locked onto the skeletal tentacles. "I haven't truly saved anyone yet."

With those words, she unleashed a pressure equal to Rakna's base state. While she lacked many of their Nirvana Skills and had considerably less energy, she was far from harmless. And to top it off, the battlefield had been set up for her.

"[Intha Maraṇa Araṇmaṉaiyai Mazhaiyākkuṅkaḷ] (Flood This Palace of Death)."

"[Kanavuḷiṉ Maṇalai Aḻittup Pōkkuṅkaḷ] (Wash Away The Sand of Dreams)."

She chanted and flames ignited in the depths of her pupils. Beacons of Lunisolar Blaze appeared all over the planet and rose to the sky like geysers, each of them aligned and scattered over equal distances.

"[Taṉimaiyāṉ Oḷiyai Erikkumkaḷ] (Incinerate The Solitary Light)."

An undulating layer of flames began to emerge like a rising tide, shrouding whole forests and the bases of mountains. Before long, the whole planet had become something akin to a fake star, with only the highest points of land sticking out from within the sea of flames.

"[Cantira Cūriya – Varicaiyiṉ Viṇmīṉai Muṟivu Peṟutal] (Swallowing Star of Order)."

Countless howls echoed as Ranka dropped down, somehow landing on the flames and causing a circular ripple around her. She narrowed her eyes at the bones and stomped the flames with her foot. With a thunderous echo, giant wolves several times bigger than herself leaped out of the sea of flames and pounced on the large tentacles.

They crunched into the bones, immolated themselves, and then dragged the appendages down into the sea of flames from which they never reemerged from.

"Holy shit…" Norio mumbled as he hovered above the flames whilst overseeing the channeling of the sealing formation. "She just… turned the whole planet into a spell beacon."

As he came to terms with that astonishing sight, quaking and booming sounds began to resound across Earth. However, most of it was muffled and the only signs of something happening were the occasional bloating on the calm surface of the flames, as if explosions were being held back.

Drops of sweat ran down Ranka's face. Without moving from her spot, she swung her glaive and cut through a pile of bones specifically aiming for her life.

A particularly large swelling in the flames occurred in the distance and she grimaced. 'I have it on lockdown, but it's fighting back. Soon enough, it'll compress its size and potentially transform into a planet-sized Pasqat, or any creature really.'

 

She was stuck here. Maintaining the Lunisolar Blaze spell took too much concentration and while the wolves' reserves were plenty, with this consumption, it wouldn't last five minutes. It's not like she had the absurd regeneration of her original self.

"Last I saw the hourglass… less than five minutes should be left over there too," she whispered to herself. "Everything will end by that time."