As one travelled further north from the Henklomeon Steppe, the already barren terrain quickly transformed into desolate stretches of land uninhabited by life of any kind. The frozen wasteland of Hena, which had remained mostly unexplored thanks to its sheer inhospitality, had garnered national attention as of late, for the 4 beams of light which were visible from just about anywhere in the world seemed to be originating from that northern region.
With the greater Beastkin tribes decimated by the attack at their annual summit, many of them had fled south, towards the stretches of greenery emerging from the bases of the mountainous ranges separating the Steppe from Tor. Few souls were privy to the endless battle being waged on the country's northernmost soil, or to the engorging tides of inhuman beasts whose emergence had transformed the infertile plains of the Steppe into unrecognisable wastelands. Only a few individuals remained who were aware of, or who dared to tread upon, the 'birthing grounds' of Demonkind.
A decrepit old wagon which had seen far better days nonetheless trundled along the unmarked way. Its single horse, having seen most of the world on its journeys, nonetheless proceeded with great caution, as if sensing some great danger on the horizon. On the passing winds, a stench of iron prevailed--the only indication that the wagon's occupants were on the right trail. For hours, they would see nothing. Barely a blade of grass. Then, assuredly, that rich scent would grow thicker, until they came across something that could only be described as a scene out of a nightmare.
Gargantuan bodies flooding the plains, drowning in their own blood. Like mountains of flesh, one wouldn't be mistaken for thinking some kind of rock formation had appeared on the horizon. Though it was obvious that they weren't creatures of that world, it simply wasn't possible to begin guessing at what their true forms could have been. With flayed skin and disembowelled stomachs, the entire conglomerate of corpses appeared to merge into a single entity. Flies drawn by the irresistible stench of rot covered the pile like beads of metal, maggots tunnelling freely through the mess of organs and skin.
"Ugh…" Pale couldn't help but pinch her nose, "Unbelievable… there are so many of them."
"Based on the number of Demonic corpses in this area, it's likely that a Crucible is nearby." Fusala's reaction to the scene was like that of an intrigued researcher, "Barion has passed through here. The decay evident within these specimens indicates that this battle occurred several days ago."
"Is it really possible for one man to take on this many Demons at once?"
"I must repeat my earlier statement-" She answered, "As the Hero of Legend, Barion is almost certainly the strongest single creature in the world. Though I have never witnessed his strength firsthand, it is apparent that 500 years of experience has allowed him to develop a mastery of combat."
"Even if he is a Hero, this is just…" Pale paused, "It doesn't look like it was done by a man…"
"I am sure you understand better than most that a Demon's ferocity is not to be underestimated. In order to emerge victorious from an encounter with one, an equal amount of savagery is required. The tactics of traditional warfare, such as those used when fighting humans, are wholly ineffective against Demons."
"Even so… Senpo has made me more powerful than I thought was possible, but even that is barely enough to kill a single Demon. We must have passed thousands of these corpse piles by now. Doesn't Barion get tired?"
"I believe so, yes. It is likely, however, that he possesses endurance far in excess of what is expected from the average human."
"Right…" Pale muttered, "Now, as for this Crucible…"
"Please check beneath the corpses. I believe it may be there."
"Of course" She paused, "...No, I'm not doing that."
"I lack the physical strength to move them myself."
"You're asking me to sift through a mountain of skin, organs and maggot-infested flesh because a Crucible might be under it?"
"Yes."
"I refuse."
A few minutes later, she had disembarked from the wagon and gotten started with the dirty business of peeling apart the hill of dying flesh. The sickening stench made her want to vomit as layers of hide were pulled from sticky folds of blood, revealing hives of foetal insects emerging like wiggling fingers from the perforated skin. Eventually, her efforts were hampered by the presence of metallic fragments--reflective chunks of silver-blue iron polished to a perfect finish. The further she delved into that amalgamation of corpses, the more metal appeared, until only a thick veneer of congealed blood covered what appeared to be a frame of some kind digging into the dirt.
"Fusala…" Pale muttered, "Is this what you wanted to see?"
"Permit me a moment to examine this strange object you have unearthed." The shadow-girl answered, "In the meantime, please consider cleaning yourself up."
"How demanding…"
During their time at the Beastkin summit, Fusala's attention was held singularly by the strange tower which served as the defining characteristic of the plains of Ip. It was not a 'tower' in the purest sense of the term, for it had no entrance to speak of and no windows besides. Rather, it was a perfectly cylindrical mass of metal--a metal so durable as to resist any attempts to retrieve a sample from it. Pale had somewhat cryptically informed her and Barion that the tower supposedly fell from the Heavens ages ago. The sheer impossibility of that legend intrigued Fusala, who had never seen such an object before. Following the Demon attack, she spent much of her free time studying it while awaiting Pale's recovery. With magical items and plenty of time to spare, she was successful in dislodging an incredibly small piece of the tower--small enough to fit in one's ears. It was a pitiful sample, but a sample nonetheless.
"Do you think that these Crucibles are made of the same metal as the tower?" Pale wondered.
"Yes." Fusala answered, "I wish to answer the question of how Crucibles appear. They take the form of rectangular 'basins' but do not emerge from underground as Demons do. Moreover, their compositions, which are entirely metallic, begs the question of how they are manufactured."
"Couldn't a sorcerer create them?"
"No. It is well-known among sorcerers that this is not possible, but the leading theory continues to involve the magical abilities of the Demon King. By comparing the appearance and durability of a Crucible's metal to the tower on the plains of Ip, I hope to present another theory."
"...And that is?"
"-That Crucibles drop from the sky."
"The- the sky…?" Pale tilted her head, "How is that possible?"
"I do not know." She replied honestly, "-But consider the tower, and especially its angle. Unearthing the soil next to it confirmed that the tower continues well into the earth. If you were to imagine the tower as a great bolt fired from a heavenly ballista, it is easy to imagine how it could have sunk so deeply into the ground."
"That's all well and good, but there's no such thing as a 'Heavenly Ballista', is there? Are you trying to imply that the tower was something sent here by the Gods?"
"Whoever caused it to fall is besides the point. The most important factor is that, from the durability of its strange metal, we can conclude that the tower is clearly not something of this world. It is an extraterrestrial object."
"Extra…"
"-It originates from beyond the sky, where the moons and stars reside."
"Is that… possible?"
"There have been documented incidents of objects falling from the sky. Most often, they are rather large rocks which strike the earth with a surprising degree of speed and force. The greataxe of Fleecia's ruler, God-King Emir, was forged using metals from such a rock."
"The tower doesn't seem like a rock to me."
"No. That is where things become complicated." Fusala continued, "The metal comprising the tower's exterior is of tremendous quality. It is a kind of material undiscovered and unexploited by any smith. It would be unreasonable to assume that an object of such size and durability is naturally-occuring. Therefore, it must be man made."
"-And you think the same is true of Crucibles."
"Precisely. I believe the two are connected… somehow."
"Even so… this Crucible looks like it's been… bent."
"Yes. I believe that may be Barion's doing."
"How did he manage that?"
"It is impossible to say. As to why, it may be the most effective method of disabling them."
"If it wasn't destroyed… would it still be creating Demons, like you said?"
"Almost certainly." Fusala confirmed, "I imagine most of the corpses you see here originated from this Crucible. It is a mystery how they are capable of materialising Demons, but I suspect that magic plays a part in it."
"And all these Demons… they aren't truly dead, are they?"
"No. Only the Sword of Light may destroy Demons permanently." She answered, "Unfortunately, Barion has lost the ability to materialise it. This presents a significant problem for the long-term survival of our world. Within a matter of years, most of the Demons killed during this conflict will resurrect without consequence."
"You make it sound hopeless."
"I will not patronise you by claiming that victory against Demonkind will be particularly easy or satisfying. To say the odds are stacked against us would be an understatement. However…"
Standing up, Fusala went quiet for a few moments.
"-We must fight." She finished, "If not for our own future, then for the futures of our descendants."