chapter 7:
The Auction House
Chaos engulfed the elven city. Hordes of nightmarish beasts flooded the streets, descending upon the helpless inhabitants. Cries of panic and agony echoed between once-splendid buildings now stained with blood.
Perched on high, Wan Jie watched the carnage impassively. He felt no joy or revulsion at the slaughter unfolding below, only vague disappointment at the elves' lack of effective resistance. A cornered tiger should bare its fangs even in desperation. But these cultured people fell swiftly into panic, their vaunted magic of little use now.
In scant hours, the capital was reduced to a feast hall for monsters. They glutted themselves on elven flesh and rampaged without restraint through the ravaged streets. The same complex wards and enchanted architecture meant to defend now sealed the city's fate, trapping all within.
But pockets of survivors yet endured in hidden sanctuaries and basements, praying for deliverance. Wan Jie focused his senses, picking out their muted pleas and hammering heartbeats beneath the overpowering stench of blood and offal.
Centering his awareness on one group of survivors, elderly scholars holed up in a magically shielded cellar beneath a ruined temple, Wan Jie decided to intervene. Not from any altruism, but opportunity to demonstrate his power. Faith and loyalty could serve his ends.
Unfurling his qi awareness, Wan Jie located the densest cluster of rampaging beasts several streets over. He burst into motion, arriving in an instant amidst the charnel feast. Dozens of misshapen gnolls and writhing corpse worms occupied the square, tearing apart elven bodies.
At Wan Jie's sudden appearance, the monsters paused in their gorging to snarl in challenge, driven to attack any living thing. He gave a cold smile in return. Then orbs of pulsating purple energy manifested in the air around him, expanding rapidly into dark pulsars that drank in all light.
"Gravitic collapse," Wan Jie intoned, the black spheres compressing the space around them with irresistible force. The clustered horrors warped and stretched impossibly before shattering into viscera. In seconds, only scattering particles remained, then not even that.
With the square cleansed, Wan Jie turned his perception back to the hidden scholars. But now their desperate prayers took on a new reverent quality in the wake of his undeniable power. Many myths told of ancient elven gods in times past. Some among the survivors now looked to Wan Jie as such a divinity returned.
Amused by their hopes, Wan Jie decided to oblige. Using Code Manipulator to warp space again, he opened a shimmering portal directly into the cellar stronghold. The awestruck scholars within fell to their knees in his presence, voices trembling with joy and relief.
"Great Elf-Father! You have returned as foretold to save your people in their darkest hour!" The elder who spoke had tears in his eyes. Others prostrated fully on the ground, reaching out to touch the hem of Wan Jie's robes as if unable to believe their salvation.
Schooling his face into paternal benevolence, Wan Jie bid them rise. "Take heart, my children. Though darkness grips this city, hope endures." He summoned protective energy shields around each survivor. "Go now in safety and gather any others you find. All will know my protection."
The survivors left in reverent spirits, their faith bolstered. They would spread word that the Elf-Father walked the earth again shepherding the worthy to sanctuary. More refugees would flock to Wan Jie's banner, grateful for his guidance and protection. Loyal followers were key building blocks of lasting power.
As expected, other elven holdouts emerged from hiding as whispers of a divine savior spread. Wan Jie repeated the miracles, whisking groups away through portals to temporary havens where they pledged their lives in service to him. Their desperate devotion made them zealots in truth.
Within a day, thousands of survivors filled the secured camps Wan Jie established in remote forest caves. They called him Father, praying to and praising him with single-minded passion. With this base of support established, the time approached to retake the capital from the occupying horrors.
At Wan Jie's command, the faithful marched upon the city gates wielding sacred relic weapons gifted by his power. They felt no fear with their living god leading them into battle against even the foulest demons. The monstrosities descended upon the zealot army in a ravenous tide.
Blazing swords cut swaths through misshapen gnolls and writhing corpse worms, purified fire reducing them to ash. When eldritch mutants stormed through to outflank the warriors, pillars of heavenly radiance immolated them. Overmatched, but fighting with holy fervor, the elves pushed deeper into the city.
Marching at their head, Wan Jie made no sweeping gestures. He simply walked with authority, and all enemies were expunged. Multilimbed colossi attempting to crush him beneath their bulk disappeared into bottomless vortexes. He had become discipline incarnate.
In hours, the occupying horrors were annihilated, not one escaping the elves' zealous onslaught. Cheers of victory resounded through the ravaged city. But the populace's cheers for Wan Jie thundered above all. Here was irrefutable proof of their god's power and divine mandate.
Standing before the adoring masses in the purified city square, Wan Jie promised an era of restoration and progress for the faithful. They roared their fervent devotion in response. He could now reshape society as desired, his flock obedient in service of his vision.
"The old jealous gods suppressed your potential out of fear," Wan Jie proclaimed. "But I shall lead you to heights undreamed! The heavens themselves will be within your grasp." He extended his hands symbolically to the sky, power radiating outward.
The crowd fell into awed silence at this bold promise. To transcend mortality and breach heavenly dominions had been hubristic folly in ancient teachings. But with their living god to guide them, what feat was impossible? They swore heartfelt oaths to follow Wan Jie unto paradise itself if so commanded.
As Wan Jie secured control, both material and spiritual, over the elven lands, his ambition expanded. Other kingdoms and peoples remained mired in stagnation or futile conflict, unable to perceive the heights he now envisioned. But soon, all would become part of his grand design.
For now though, he returned focus to the elven capital. Repairs commenced swiftly thanks to magic and zealous labor. The shining city almost hid its lingering wounds. But its greatest treasures yet awaited in the royal vaults and archives. With subtle telepathic cues, Wan Jie directed his new high priests to open them, that he might elevate the elves further.
Indeed, potent artifacts lay within the sealed chambers. Enchanted rings to bend space and thought, crystals brimming with compressed mana, manuals inscribed with arcane formulae. All these Wan Jie claimed without resistance, though even his power could only access a fraction of their deeper mysteries for now. But immortal existence granted infinite time to unravel their secrets.
For all the marvels revealed, one prize towered above the rest in potential. In an inner sanctum, upon an altar of luminous crystal, rested an elaborate bronze diadem set with a fist-sized amethyst. An artifact worn by ancient elven kings said to grant insight into cosmic underpinnings.
Wan Jie lifted the Jewel Crown reverently. At his touch, violet light bloomed from the central gem, illuminating compressed nebulae and galaxies swirling within. Raw creation was bound within this metal and stone. Donning the Crown, Wan Jie's spirit expanded tenfold as promised. What more might he now discern and shape?