(This and all of this volume are a part of the old version of Howler. Look out for the remastered version in the next volume releasing late 2023)
Across the globe was a land of sand. The stains of war buried beneath the sands merciless grasp. Barbarians mounted their warhorses, preparing their cavalry to advance. Meanwhile, the royal forces secured their walls with sharpshooters and infantry. The high-frequency sounds of exploding mines were deafening. Shell-shocked victims infested the battlefield as missiles and projectiles propelled deep into endless the layers of sand. Streams of the onyx smoke shielded and suffocated those within its protective and smothering clutches. Aerial attacks defaced the cities and villages beyond the walls of Ramal, the Capital City of the Aroobian Empire. Tanks patrolled the front lines. The stampede of the stallions trampled any soldier unlucky enough to become wounded without the mercy of death being bestowed upon them. The artilleries annihilated the Barbarians that stood before them, scattering their remains across the blood-drenched battlefield. Only to be engulfed by the sands barren grasp.
Injured troops tried their hardest to escape their inevitable fates, heaving their fractured and bruised limbs across the battlefield, breathing heavily as their lungs intertwined filled with blood. Crawling, running, dying. Before death, they only smelt blood, gunpowder and fear. Within the walls, the people heard the impact of countless explosives followed by white noise. Children hid beneath the corpses of their parents, escaping the Barbarian troops patrolling nearby. Shells rained down like snowflakes, demolishing all that they touched. Non-combatant forces led anyone they could find to safety, however, few made it there alive.
Chaos had erupted inside the walls of the Imperial Palace. Herds of armoured soldiers and knights headed for the frontline. Maids gossiped fearfully in the hallways as the guards scurried past. Swarms of calls bombarded butlers requesting reinforcements and aid. Throughout this panic, only one human seemed unbothered. Walking alongside her were Royal Knights. Her marigold hair bounced with each self-reliant step. She wore garments made from a noticeably higher calibre material to the surrounding servants. Her skin was like the smoothest and sweetest caramel sauce. Her eyes shone like the purest emerald. Though she had sustained no injury, she had bandages wrapped around her head. Every butler and maid postponed their duties to gaze upon her unearthly beauty. "May you reach Akh, your grace." She rose her hand at each servant who greeted her, then walked towards the sumptuous door ahead.
"Open the door." she had a modulated and orotund voice, which was ever so slightly silvery. Immediately, the knights by her side pushed open the grand double door.
"The Princess of the Aroobian Empire has arrived!"
"Humble yourselves before her Royal Highness, Nefertiti Alath of the Sand!"
Meanwhile, in a continent west of the sand kingdom, three beings found refuge in an abandoned building. They sat in silence, never removing their eyes from the burgundy box placed on the oak wood coffee table. There stood the Null, front and centre. Its cubic dimensions faced each of them. They looked at each other, then the Null, then at each other again, each of then sweating slightly more than the other. Then, finally, André broke the silence. "Reizora, you're a mature and well put together, and beautiful young lady. I think you would be perfect to open the magic box. You've got that natural... ugh-"
"Maternal Instinct! I'm sure an excellent and talented young woman as yourself surely has it." Abadina nodded in agreement after submitting his point.
"Ha! you fools must be out of your minds. Who do you think I am to fall for such empty flattery? This dumb brat I can understand, but you Lord Abadina? You haven't called me excellent since our engagement three hundre- ugh, I mean three years ago." Reizora darted her eyes around the room, shielding mouth with her sweating palms. "It has been around six hours since we last fed him... I don't think I'm prepared for what is awaiting us inside the Null. Besides, you look the oldest meaning that you must have more experience in these things." She cautiously poked the Null with one of her fingers, whilst her other hand was hovering above her nose.
"The keyword there was 'look' midget."
"Wanna say that again twerp!"
"You're both an old hag and a half-pint! Don't think we didn't hear you stumble, Mrs over three hundred."
"That's it you're dead you brat!"
Whilst the other two began roughhousing, Abadina motioned his head upwards, slowly. A cold sweat trickled down his mostly bald head. 'What is this ominous feeling overwhelming me?' His thoughts grew deeper and deeper.
The Aroobian Empire's capital city Ramal, War Council:
"Ah, I fully understand your concern, Lieutenant General Alim. That is why I propose we relocate a third of the troops located at the East Gate, which is already secure, to the South Gate." Major General Bai shifts a small group of sand figurines to another on the tactical table. Murmurs began to rise in the War Council, "That's a bold move...", "This may actually work...", "Either way we are all doomed at the rate those Barbarians are going...". The only one who was unaffected by Bai's statement was the princess. She sat with her head resting on her wrist. She sighed deeply, turning her head to a nearby window. Through it, she saw the destruction and devastation unfolding in the distance.
"Major General Bai, that would never succeed." A woman spoke up ignoring the muttering of other military officials, "Our troops' morale has never been lower than it is now. Unless we can raise it, no matter how many troops we send it'll be completely pointless!" She slammed her fists against the table and the murmurs only increased.
"If that's the case, Lieutenant General Hesi? There is nothing more we can do in this damned war!" Major General Bai glared directly into her eyes as he spat his comments back at her.
"Hmph. As you know the Capital City Ramal is divided into three main regions. The Outer Region, the Inner Region and where we are currently located, the Holy Region. Each region circles around the Imperial Palace. The Barbarians have already conquered the entire Outer Region in just seventy-two hours. Might I remind you that the Outer Region is the largest of them all? Thus I suggest we-"
Lieutenant General Hesi is interrupted by a guffaw coming from the head of the table. The whispers ceased immediately and all eyes fell on Princess Alath.
"I'm sick and tired of hearing your rambunctious bickering! You fools know nothing about war!" The mumbling resumed amongst those present.
"Enough!"
Alath's orotund voice echoed throughout the entirety of the castle, even though the walls were supposedly soundproof. Within an instant, there was silence once more.
"I've allowed you imbeciles to play 'war' for long enough! Because of your rash and ignorant decisions, we are currently losing this battle, but no more. I refuse to let more Aroobian lives be wasted because of you fools!" She crossed her legs and sat up straight. Her green eyes glowed golden in a foreboding manner, and the shadow surrounding her face made it barely visible. The military officers all sunk into their seats sweating in silence; no one dared to speak. "Let them take that front."
"What!" Bai stood up in an instant.
"Your Highness please reconsider! If we abandon the South front, we may as well be giving the Barbarians the Empire gift-wrapped-" She couldn't finish her speech, Alath's leer was far too menacing. Hesi held her tongue and turned her face away.
"This meeting is adjourned, Khai!"
"Your Highness?"
"Bring me my cloak," Alath raised her chin to the ceiling wiping her tongue across her upper lip, her eyes without life, "We have work to do!"
Directly south of the Imperial Palace, shielded by the shattered Outer Walls, was the Barbarian's Main Camp. In the midst of the chaotic blood-drenched battlefield was a brute. He stood at seven-foot, tall, upright and mighty. His crimson-red hair looked as though it was interwoven with his Kermode Bear coat now drowned in blood. The sides of his head were shaven unevenly and his grubby beard spread far past his shoulders. He wore the fur and skin of his victims as garments and trophies.
"Great Leader Genseric!"
ove them. "Speaketh thy mind."
The Brute man turned his upper body to face the ant of a man before him. "Aye, brother, thee hath called for me?" His thunderous voice shook the heavens ab
"We done did prepared fer the siege of Ramal's Innar Region. We be awaiting yar orders, sir."
"Valorous! We advance betimes! However, I might not but lick mine own wounds, I trust all of thee shall receiveth the job done?" Genseric's leer scorched through the lowly soldier's eyes.
"Yas, of course, Great Leader! Yah can count on us! Tha weapons we raided ferom tha Aroobians sure are explawsive, ahehe!"
"I has't a lacking valour humour. Though t's true yond we did steal lots of firearms from the Ramal Military, I still fear we art quite outmatch'd."
The feeble soldier scurried away hastily, crashing into piles of corpses and mummified animals. The brute ambled out of the grand hut and headed to one that was aesthetically grander. Fellow Barbarians scurried around him, collecting protective gear, weapons and ammunition. As they ran together, they talked amongst each other, joking and reminiscing about their triumph on the battlefield. Genseric's posture began so slack slightly, his face relaxing. He watched as his troops marched into the front lines with no regrets. He witnessed as they laughed with one another in the face of war and corruption. His lips curled upwards as he entered the armoury hut.
"In earnest, I much prefer these claws and mine own spears to any firearm." Genseric admired his mass collection of both modern-day and prehistorically designed weapons. He glided his palm across each and every weapon, his eyes sparkling slightly with every touch. Then suddenly, he lowered his gaze and his shoulders dropped. His face was creased up like crumpled paper as fluid trickled down his brow. "Mine own brothers, sisters, I am my most humble apology thee has't to suffer through this ordeal. Thou art putting thy live on the line whilst I'm hither safe and without harm." He cried in silence.
The Aroobian Empire's Imperial Palace:
"My lady are you sure this is what you want to do?" Khai hurried behind Alath, heaving sacks of sand along with him.
"Do I really have to repeat myself, gheez. Quit pestering me and move faster you fool! I refuse to let this godforsaken country fall to low-life barbarians!" Her feet pounded the polished palace floor. She marched through what seemed like an endless corridor, Khai stumbled behind her breathless. Until finally they had reached the Divine Balcony. Alath kissed her teeth as she stepped onto the balcony.
'It's time to end this,' Alath scrutinized diabolically at the bloody cinematic unfolding before her. Alath clenched her fists. "Khai! Bring me the sand NOW!" Alath's voice was orotund and stern. Khai hauled 200kg worth of sand onto the Divine Balcony. Instantly, he collapsed, huffing and puffing on the solid glass flooring. "Wow, are you really that weak? I hope you know that after all of this I'm increasing your training. Let's see... maybe 2,000 reps of your current 70 rep regime should suffice for now. But am I still being too lenient? Oh, maybe I'll include some 500kg weights you can wear whilst you train. Hehe, hehe..." The aura surrounding Alath grew sinister as she released a low snicker, "Oh and by the way, I didn't need any of that sand. I've noticed that ever since the conflict began against the Barbarians, you've been slacking off on your training." Khai's eyes began to brew tears as he listened to her, 'That bitch of a demon! A beautiful, goddess of a demon!' Water streamed down his face as he silently mourned his fate to come.
Alath sighed deeply, clenching her fists tightly and bowing her head. 'I must concentrate my energy. Control your breathing, regulate your blood pressure. One slip up could annihilate countless civilians!' Her hands ascended to the heavens, her hair followed like an eagle's spread wings. Particles of sand began manifesting around her, circling around her body. A golden light shone from her face. Gradually, she rose her head. Her eyes shifted from their pure emerald-green hue to a harsh, golden glow. Khai stood slowly, observing with admiration painted on his face. "Now!" Alath's voice echoed slightly as she commanded the sand.
"...Sand Surge!"
In an abandoned building west of Aroobari, Lord Abadina's eyes widen as he clenched his skull, "Aghck! It can't be!" His head pulsed rapidly as he stumbled over the air, "She's returned..."
"...The Sand Sovereign!"