The execution of the Arcane Glyphs influenced the crowd positively and turned the tide. Upon confronting the sudden yet massive pressure descending on them, the tarragons' morale plummeted to the ground. When coupled with fatigue, the primal instinct to survive had the best of their judgement.
"Everyone fears the invisible."
Pacing with weary steps, Adam saw Thalia leaning against the wall of the building with beads of sweat dripping from her forehead. Wounds on her arms and legs weren't fatal but the blood loss was evident on her face.
A quick scan of the scene and he realised that many were in the worst conditions.
At Adam's command, the helmet was retracted and it disappeared from the sight.
With a flick of his wrist, healing potions materialised in his palm. Thalia could only convey her gratitude via words before she gulped down the potion. The wounds immediately healed up and her complexion recovered.
Adam didn't have an endless supply of potions, but he shared what he had with the survivors. A soldier who lost both of his legs and hanging on the last thread, pushed the bottle back to him saying, "The potion will only be wasted if I drink it".
Adam tried to persuade him but Aaron patted his shoulder and shook his head. With a bitter smile, the earthling could only store the potion back into his ring. Death on the battlefield was the highest honour a soldier could ever have.
The knight commander's insight notified that the tarragons will surely come back. Thus after resting for a very short period, the remaining 8 survivors, including Adam, Aaron and Thalia, departed from the spot. A freshly created small mound of soil stared at the back of the silhouettes of the overworld residents. It was only five foot long.
***
Meanwhile, on the continent.
"What... you aren't pulling my leg, right?"
"Of course not. The news is legit. My big brother is a member of the royal guards. He swore that he clearly heard Saint Lester exclaiming about it."
"About what?"
"The otherworldly reinforcements!"
"What?! They succeeded?"
"Hahaha... how couldn't they? Our empire's the most powerful on the continent. Our emperor is a centuries-old war veteran with exceptional administrative capabilities. With no shortage of resources, it'll only be a miracle if they couldn't."
"But... isn't Summoning Magic forbidden?"
"Not forbidden, but dangerous. The mages executing the magic will surely suffer backlash and might possibly lose their lives in the process."
"So how many arrived?"
"There are at least four people. They were taken to somewhere soon after under strict supervision and security. If things are looking good, the emperor himself will announce the news."
"Is that so?"
"Also, he told me that he heard the summoned people speaking a weird language and repeatedly saying a name called Japan."
"Japan? What kind of name is that?"
...
The streets of the Aquila Empire were bustling with intense murmuring. Every tavern and inn was conversing about the leaked fragments of rather peculiar news. Even the beggars on the streets couldn't keep their lips shut in the wake of the sourceless rumours.
It's been only a couple of days since the Imperial mages under the leadership of Saint successfully executed the summoning. Though three mages lost their lives, their sacrifices were not in vain.
But the information was quickly leaked to the public by unknown individuals. Plus, the intimidating earthquake that accompanied the large column of light at the centre of the Imperial Palace wasn't something easily dismissable.
The spy networks of the neighbouring countries quickly conveyed the word to their respective nations and unrest was the result. Just like how countries on Earth once raced to launch a man into space, a competitive spirit took over the best of the kings and emperors.
Spanning over several hundreds of kilometres far and wide, the Aquila Empire was located on the lower half of the western side of the Prime Celestial Preserve. The foundation of the kingdom was laid several centuries ago and it flourished into a full-blown power within a few decades. Equipped with enormous military and intimidating might, the nation has only confronted a couple of attacks in its past. Unfortunately, the invaders didn't live to tell the tale.
The unofficial rival of the aforementioned kingdom, the Dragod Empire occupies the upper half of the western side. Comparable in size and strength, they are in peace with each other, except for the occasional skirmishes.
The report of otherworldly summoning soon reached the ears of the kingdoms established far away from Aquila via the wayfaring wanderers and travelling merchants. The spy intelligence networks of the political powers were greatly encouraged to acquire even the obscurest words about summoning and related topics.
The alliance of the four nations also came to know about the account. The rulers of Swanhild, Gwilherm, Lenart and Yahudah came together to discuss it.
Inside a well-lit, blast-proof, sound-proof chamber sat four old men around a round table. The extravagant clothing and the golden threaded fabric exclaimed their social status.
Yet, despite the grandiose decoration, their faces weren't pleasant.
Tap tap tap tap tap~
The silence hovering in the air was eventually torn away with a series of taps intensifying with each passing minute. The darkened faces turned to the culprit, a fat old man in his mid-seventies.
"King Giffard, can you speak up rather than uselessly tapping on the table." Raimund's voice conveyed that he was irritated.
"What?"
As if forcefully awaken from trance, King Giffard skimmed across the faces with perplexion. His eyes indicated that he was in deep contemplation until Raimund spoke.
"You were dreaming, Giffy."
King Vortigern of Gwilherm chuckled at the confused fat guy with a funny grin. But those words weren't accepted with a smile.
"Speak properly, Vortigern. He's a king just like you."
The fourth person at the table, King Andor of Lenart scolded the old man for behaving like an immature teen.
"Yo Ando, chill. We are kings of the alliance." Vortigern's lips remained curved upward while replying.
At once, Andor almost burst into flames. "You..."
"Shut up, you three!"
A solemn voice arose and put an end to the bickering trio.
"Remember why we are here." Raimund reminded.
Vortigern nodded in agreement and immediately wore a serious veil. "King Giffard, was the summoning a success?"
The response wasn't positive.
"We lost 2 archmages and 6 mages in the process. The summoning platform is no more."
The atmosphere plummeted into further gloominess.
"What about Lenart?" Raimund raised his eyes to look at Andor who shook his head in silence.
Then he turned to Vortigern and queried, "What about Gwilherm?"
The king let out a grin and replied, "No thanks. Our country has enough soldiers and weapons."
Then the eyes turned to Raimund.
"I already told you all, I believe in my subjects. If we don't put our trust in ourselves, then who will?"
The trio nodded after a short moment of contemplation and the discussion continued for another couple of hours.
It was already midnight when the meeting adjourned.
***
At this moment, in a remote area in the Stygian Realm.
A group of seven aerial tarragons were hovering over a flatland. Their eyes skimmed across the boulders and rocks scattered all over the ground before departing and disappearing into the horizon.
Almost a minute later, five figures emerged from the shadows of the stones.
"We almost got spotted."
Aaron whispered and the others nodded in agreement. Except for Adam and the knight commander, the remaining three had trembling faintly.
"Hey, how are you feeling now?" Aaron tiptoed to a soldier who had a reddish-purple hue over his skin. Visibly similar to the complexion of rashes, he was displaying signs of discomfort.
"I can manage. The poison is retreating, I can-" Before the man could complete his words, he spat blood and coughed violently. The soldier fell on all four and gagged and gasped for air.
Seeing this, Adam flicked his wrist and passed the bottle of healing potion. Aaron uncorked it and brought it to the mouth of the suffering man, but he caught the knight commander's wrist and shook his head and spoke solemnly, "Don't waste the potion, commander. You don't have much."
Aaron glanced at the glass bottle and saw that there were only a few drops of green liquid left in the container. He hesitated for a moment before pushing the bottle to the soldier's mouth.
"Even if I drink it, it'll only delay the inevitable. Three have already perished. Why not one more?"
Originally, there were eight people when the crowd fled the stronghold. But as time went by, they grew tired. The fatigue demanded water to moisten the dry throats but the needs remained unfulfilled.
The atmosphere of the Stygian Realm contained a peculiar aura that boosted the creatures while casting a shadow of malfunction in the foreign races. be it a human or an elf or a dwarf or a zoomorph, if one intakes enough of this repulsive vibe, the vital functions can eventually cease to operate.
It was when their hunger was at its peak while enduring this ominous atmosphere that the crowd stumbled upon something.