Chereads / Game of Eternals: Divine Deception / Chapter 22 - Massacre of Iron'Heits (V)

Chapter 22 - Massacre of Iron'Heits (V)

"Are you sure this is the right path?"

"Yes, now stop interrupting me and let me concentrate."

"I'm just asking," one noble said to another, who was dressed in an expensive-looking garment clearly designed more for fashion than for defense.

"Did you check?"

"Yes, it's sealed."

"That can't be."

"I'm afraid it is."

As they walked forward, hushed conversations filled the narrow, functional tunnel—just wide enough for two people to walk side by side. The rough, weather-beaten stone walls had witnessed their share of secrets, and the uneven ground demanded careful steps. The arched ceiling provided just enough enclosure to make one feel confined but not claustrophobic. The flickering light from lanterns and torches cast uneven shadows, leaving the passage dim. The cool, slightly musty air echoed with the sound of footsteps.

An eerie quality permeated the air—a dampness that made most people uneasy. As they continued through the tunnel, they exchanged nervous glances; the torchlight flickered, casting ominous shadows on their faces.

The tension among them mounted with every step, amplified by the murmured whispers, shifting footsteps, and the faint echo of dripping water. The suffocating silence stretched on endlessly.

But that wasn't all. Some tried to turn back, only to find that the entrance—their escape route—had been sealed. Their expressions twisted in dismay, and curses were muttered against Erik for his ruthlessness. With no other option, they could only move forward, knowing he wouldn't hear their grievances.

As they pressed on, their sense of unease grew. Meanwhile, the nobles faced their own problems.

"Did you find him?"

"No."

"Damn that bastard," cursed one noble. The man with the dimensional ring had vanished. They saw him at the tunnel's entrance but lost track of him amidst the chaos. Assuming he had entered the tunnel, they hadn't paid much attention, but now he was nowhere to be found.

"Is this blood?" someone asked, pointing to a trail of red leading in the same direction. This made everyone more vigilant, and the tension heightened as they traveled further.

"I shouldn't have come."

"Yeah, me too."

"We should turn back," someone suggested, and many others agreed. But their thoughts were interrupted by a sudden...

Boom* Boom* Boom*

The tunnel shook violently, throwing everyone off balance. Their expressions turned grim as they watched the tunnel begin to collapse, plunging them into chaos once again.

"Get out of the way!"

"Don't push!"

.

.

Panic spread like wildfire, and in the ensuing stampede, many were trampled, resulting in numerous injuries. But something far worse occurred. The dried blood on the floor mingled with fresh blood, and like a virus, something from the dried blood entered the wounds of the injured. But no one noticed—except for one person, who began to feel dizzy.

"What's wrong with you? Move!" someone shouted, but the dizzy man couldn't pinpoint the speaker. A strange sensation welled up inside him, and when someone shoved him, a dormant anger erupted into fury, leading him to do the unthinkable.

Argh.* Snap*

AHH*

The horrific scene unfolded as someone bit another, causing the crowd to freeze in shock. The tunnel stopped trembling, but everyone knew Erik had burned the boats—there was no going back now.

Despite the madness, some people intervened to separate the two, but in the struggle, many more were injured. Eventually, the attackers were pried apart, but one of them had lost a chunk of flesh from his arm.

Everyone stared at the injured man and the crazed attacker in terror, as if they were looking at a madman.

"What is happening?" a voice demanded from the front. The cunning "leader" arrived, flanked by a pair of guards—nobles' special forces. He surveyed the scene with a furrowed brow.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"This bastard has gone crazy," the victim spat, glaring daggers at the attacker, who was still struggling violently but was now restrained by several people.

The "leader's" frown deepened. He glanced at the lunatic before turning to the guards, who were novice realm practitioners and easily subdued the situation, dragging the madman away.

"I know everyone is nervous and tense," the leader addressed the crowd, "but I assure you we're in secure hands. I've spoken with Sir Seilan and Sir Ninu, and they've agreed to help us."

His words offered some relief, though skepticism lingered. Unfazed, the leader continued, "They've made the necessary preparations. All we need to do is follow them and listen."

With that, he left without delay, feeling smug. But just as he reached the front, he heard someone mutter, "It's watching you."

"What? How is…"

Boom*

The explosion cut him off, but it was only the beginning. The "leader" heard another explosion from the rear.

"Ahh!"

Screams of pain echoed through the tunnel. Miraculously, no one died, but it was the final straw. Panic surged again, and people began running, creating even more chaos.

"Don't push!"

"Please… st..op!"

Some were crushed underfoot, but the crowd ignored them, driven by fear. Something lurked in the tunnels, picking them off one by one like an assassin.

"Stop!"

Swish*

A head fell to the ground, and everyone froze, staring at the noble, who was shaking his head in pain. They were close to the first explosion and had taken a direct hit.

"Damn it!" the noble cursed, glaring at the crowd that looked at him with a mix of fear and vigilance.

"Now listen here, you…"

Boom*

Another explosion erupted, forcing everyone to turn back, thinking it was over.

Boom*

Boom*

Explosions cascaded like a chain reaction, and people exploded as if competing to see who could blow up better. This time, there were casualties. Many succumbed to their injuries, while others were blown apart.

"Run," the nobles commanded, sprinting for the exit, desperate to escape the cursed tunnel. But all hope seemed lost as the explosions continued. Even the hidden intermediate realm practitioner scrambled for cover.

.....

"How long do we have to wait?" one soldier asked.

"I don't know, ask the captain," another replied.

"Tch!"

The soldiers fell silent. They had been stationed there since sunrise, waiting for the "people" Kolfel had spoken of. Their captain had gone to great lengths, positioning over 50 men based on the word of a lowly bandit. It left many of them puzzled.

Kolfel was just another small-time bandit, one of many in their prison. Nobodies meant to be cannon fodder in battle. If they died, they died; if they survived, they would just be fodder for the next fight.

Anyone who called it cruel was naïve—this barely scratched the surface. The Alliance was notorious for its no-prisoner policy, though they exercised it selectively. When secrecy wasn't a concern, they would make examples of prisoners of war, selling them as slaves or subjecting them to other horrors. This was a world hosting a race capable of extreme cruelty toward its own kind.

Kolfel became significant because he provided information about a tunnel even they hadn't known about. The captain received intel that a group, especially nobles, was escaping through this tunnel. They couldn't let that happen. With Kolfel's information, they now waited.

This tunnel could serve as a siege route, so they needed to ensure no one came or went without their knowledge.

Now, back to the present—they were waiting, and it was about to pay off.

"I hear something," a soldier said, drawing everyone's attention to the entrance. Soon, they all heard it.

Thump* Thump*

The sound of a stampede, like a herd rushing toward them.

"Ready!" the captain commanded, narrowing his eyes as he peered into the darkness, seeing a sea of people charging toward them, clearly fleeing something. All were injured to some degree.

"Ready the hwach'a!"

The soldiers complied, and a contraption was brought forward, a crossbow with multiple holes at the front, and each hole had a metal arrow in it. 

"Wait!" the captain ordered, still watching the approaching crowd with narrowed eyes. He wanted to see what they were running from, and just as he strained to see...

Boom*

The tunnel rocked with another explosion, and the captain's eyes narrowed further before he gave the command.

"Fire!"

Swish!

Swish!

.

.

.

.....

People ran, or tried to, but it didn't matter how hard they tried—one by one, they exploded. It felt like a nightmare. Many believed it was divine retribution for abandoning their city and their children.

The nobles didn't care; they just kept running, cursing Erik under their breath. They suspected this was all part of his plan from the start.

They cursed while the mayor, pale and disoriented, struggled to stay on his feet—his strength as an intermediate realm practitioner, barely keeping him upright. But there were other intermediate realm practitioners among the nobles, making them more resilient.

As they wondered what was happening, one of the nobles suddenly collapsed, causing the others to pause before sprinting again.

Some people approached the fallen man, a novice realm practitioner, and then...

Boom*

His body exploded, taking several others with him.

"Ahhh!"

Someone wailed, missing a leg; another lost an arm, while others died instantly.

"How much further?" a noble asked the blond noble, now in charge of navigation since the previous guide had just exploded.

The blond noble, equally nervous, kept looking ahead, praying for the tunnel to end. They had started with over 10,000 people; now fewer than five thousand remained, and this number was dwindling even faster.

"There!" The blonde noble shouted as he spotted the tunnel's exit. The sight of the bright light filled him with hope, and with renewed energy, he sprinted even faster toward it.

Booom*

Another novice realm practitioner exploded behind him, causing his heart to leap in fear. But he kept running and, finally, burst out of the tunnel, exclaiming, "At last, freedom!"

His relief was short-lived. As he stood there, the person behind him watched in horror as something shot through the blond noble, turning him into a human pincushion. An arrow pierced through his head, splitting it open like a melon.

And the massacre began.

"Take cover!" the mayor shouted as he bolted out of the tunnel, quickly taking refuge behind a nearby tree. His forehead was drenched in sweat—he was terrified. First, the explosions, and now these arrows that could pierce through and kill hundreds in an instant.

The blond noble had been caught off guard; otherwise, he might have survived. But as the mayor stared at the half-destroyed head and the pooling blood, he could only gulp, feeling a deep pang of regret.

He shouldn't have incited the nobles. He wanted nothing more than to turn back and beg Erik to take him back, but it was too late for that now. Gritting his teeth, he prepared to flee.

Suddenly, a sense of danger washed over him, and he darted away just in time.

Boom*

A cannon-like contraption obliterated the tree he had been hiding behind and then locked onto him like a homing device, relentlessly firing in his direction.

Boom* Boom*

As the mayor narrowly dodged the cannon shots, the same couldn't be said for the former citizens of Iron'Heits. They were trapped, despair overwhelming them as they were pincered from both sides. Explosions still echoed from the rear, while in the front, dozens of Hwach'a continued their merciless barrage, cutting down anyone in their path. People fell like broken dolls—no one could survive such an onslaught.

Many simply gave up, sitting in place and staring blankly at the ceiling, their faces etched with hopelessness. As they wondered where they had gone wrong, one face came to mind: the indifferent face they had seen last before entering the tunnels.

"I'm sor—"

Swish*

The words caught in his throat as he looked down to see a gaping hole where his stomach used to be. His guts spilled out, and he collapsed, dead. Many others soon followed, streams of blood flowing together to form a growing puddle. Unbeknownst to the survivors, something was being born from this blood—something that shouldn't exist in this realm.

Rumble* Rumble*

The once sunny sky began to darken as clouds rolled in, shrouding the sun as if to shield it from witnessing the cruelty of humankind.

Crackle*

Lightning crackled overhead as the sky wept, trying in vain to wash away the blood. But the tunnel, now a barrier, blocked its path.

Boom*

Explosions and arrows thundered on, mingling with the crackling lightning to create an eerie atmosphere. Even the captain grew more vigilant, but he did not stop his soldiers as they continued their relentless destruction, leaving nothing in their wake.

  1. From the Wiki: The hwacha or hwach'a (Korean: 화차; Hanja: 火車; lit. fire cart) was a multiple rocket launcher and an organ gun of similar design, developed in fifteenth century Korea. The former variant fired one or two hundred rocket-powered arrows, while the latter fired several dozen iron-headed arrows or bolts out of gun barrels.
    The hwacha's structure was very similar to a handcart. Its top contained a mobile wooden launchpad containing 100 to 200 cylindrical holes,
    The ammunition, consisted of a 1.1 m (3 ft 7 in) long arrow with the addition of a gunpowder-filled paper tube attached to the shaft just below the head. Approximately 100 projectiles were loaded and launched in one volley, and had a range of up to 2,000 m (6,600 ft).
  2. More on the weapon: The back side of the hwacha featured two parallel arms that allowed the operator to push and pull the machine and a vertical strip designed for in-line attacks or ground-sentry positions.
    Mangam Hwacha firing its gun barrels at the Jangseong Army Artillery School demonstration.
    Wood pivots and iron axles usually fastened the wagon-like wheels. To reduce friction between the wheels and the axles, tar oil was used.
    Hwachas were usually made of pine wood, although some were made of oak. The ropes used were typically made of hemp.
    The Korean army included siege engineers and blacksmiths to repair the hwacha in case of damage due to poor road conditions, bad weather, or battle