"Argh..." The sight before him shattered everything he knew; confusion flooded his mind. He had heard tales of the so-called "Cannon" capable of felling trees or reshaping small hills, but nothing like this.
Every direction he looked revealed only devastation. The earth itself seemed to have been turned inside out; land that was once flat now jagged and torn asunder. Even the distant mountains that used to pierce the clouds had vanished from view, as if they had never existed.
As the initial shock slowly receded, the searing pain returned, refocusing his senses. Gritting his teeth, Torin attempted to assess his surroundings. His legs were buried under earth and debris. Above him, one of the mango trees had been a victim of the blast and now lay toppled over him. Fortunately, its branches had formed a protective barrier, shielding him from being completely crushed by the upheaval. It was as if the tree was offering him one last gesture of protection.
Above the chaos, the sky was a tumultuous scene as well. Smoke spiraled upwards, darkening the sky, but rain clouds were gathering, ready to wash over the charred landscape. Thunder rumbled ominously, punctuated by flashes of lightning, as if nature itself was reacting with fury, eager to cleanse the scorched earth.
Slowly, Torin moved his arms, his fingers beginning to dig through the earth that pinned his lower body. Each movement was agonizing, but driven by the instinct to survive, he persisted. The coolness of the soil contrasted sharply with the pain that racked his body, but he welcomed the sensation, focusing on it to anchor his mind away from the overwhelming destruction.
After what seemed like an eternity, Torin extricated himself from the earth's grip, painstakingly clawing his way out from beneath the tree branches. Each movement sent jolts of searing pain through his body, causing involuntary spasms, but the sight that awaited him fueled his determination.
"Mom... Aeliana... everyone..." His voice, strained and hoarse from pain, barely carried beyond a whisper. Realizing the futility of his calls, he resigned himself to silence.
With the rain clouds still massing overhead and the sun casting a glaring light on the devastated landscape, Torin finally stood on shaky legs. Despite the odds, hope kindled within him. The possibility that what had happened was a massive explosion or a catastrophic earthquake remained unclear, but his immediate concern was to find any survivors.
Torin wandered aimlessly, his steps carrying him in all directions across the devastated landscape. Hours turned into an eternity as he sifted through the remnants of his once vibrant world, hoping against hope to find some sign of life, any indication that he was not alone.
The silence around him was heavy, punctuated only by the occasional distant crash of settling debris. Every overturned stone and twisted piece of metal he inspected seemed to echo back his despair, intensifying the hollow feeling inside him. The places where laughter and voices had once filled the air were now eerily quiet, the stillness mocking his desperation.
"Where..." Suddenly as if stars exploded in his mind, he leans down, snapped off a small piece of the branch, jabbed it into the ground to serve as a makeshift sundial, and waited. As time passed, he watched the shadow shift, gauging the direction he needed to go.
A few kilometers lay between him and his home village, where everyone present at the fields that day had come from. Torin clung to the hope that his family and Aeliana might have survived and that they could be found there. Ignorant of how much time had elapsed since the disaster, he feared the worst but hoped for the best.
Painstakingly, Torin navigated the altered terrain, his path hindered by jagged earth and persistent aftershocks. Normally, a journey from the village to the fields would take him twenty to thirty minutes, but now, hampered by the rough and treacherous landscape, it took nearly a full day. He skirted areas still radiating heat and emitting smoke.
Along the way, he sustained himself with whatever he could find. He drank from puddles that were once parts of a river or vast lake, now tragically reduced. Resting intermittently when his body could no longer bear the pain, he gathered his strength to continue. Each pause was a battle between despair and determination, but hope drove him forward.
As the light began to fade from the sky, Torin reached what he believed to be his destination. The once familiar paths and landmarks were now disfigured beyond recognition. The only reason he know where he is, is only because in front of their village entrance there happen to be a giant massive rock craving their village name on it.
The rocks had shattered and broken apart, but the name of their village still clung to a fragmented sign, hauntingly intact amid the ruins. Torin arrived, breathless and weary, clinging to a threadbare hope of finding any signs of life. Yet, the sight that greeted him snuffed out that hope like a candle in the wind.
His knees buckled under the weight of a shattered heart. Beyond the immediate devastation lay an endless expanse of ruin, each step revealing more of the same desolation. He had harbored a faint hope that the catastrophe was localized to where he had been earlier, but as he ventured further, that hope was crushed by the relentless vista of destruction.
"Argh... argh..." Whether from his physical pain or sheer exhaustion, Torin's vision blurred and flickered in and out of darkness. His body and mind spasmed in agony as the first drops of rain began to fall.
"Tap... tap... tap... tap..." The raindrops fell steadily, striking the charred earth with a rhythmic beat that once would have signified renewal and life. But today, the rain felt unnaturally cold, as if each drop were a tear shed by the heavens for the lost world below.
The village that had once been brimming with life was now just a shadow, a silent testament to devastation. The landscape, as far as the eye could see, lay wasted, stripped of its essence.
Drenched in the chilling rain, Torin slowly looked up to the stormy sky, his lips trembling. "God... what have we done wrong?" His voice cracked under the strain of his sorrow. "God, what have we done wrong? WHAT HAVE WE DONE WRONG?!!!" He roared into the sky, his cries filled with endless pain and rage. Unsure of his beliefs, he shouted nonetheless, hoping against hope for an answer, any answer from the divine, if they existed at all. He shouted until his throat was raw, and he could shout no more, collapsing onto the cold, wet ground.
------------
sometimes earlier:
"Reporting to the Sect Master! We and the rest of the elders have completed our investigation!"
High above the highest clouds, a remarkable assembly had convened. To any mortal who might have witnessed such a scene, it would have been utterly astonishing. Figures floated effortlessly in the sky, each one as impeccably handsome as a sculpture crafted from perfect jade, their skin as flawless and pure as white jade itself.
These beings were the very gods mortals whispered about in awe. With the power to alter weather and reshape landscapes at will, they were formidable entities capable of annihilating kingdoms with mere thought. Any mortal empire could crumble should they desire it.
At this moment, thousands of such beings had gathered in the sky, suspended above a breathtaking expanse of land dotted with towering palaces that stretched up towards the heavens, each one resembling a sharp sword shouldering the sky itself.
This was the Sky Sword Heavenly Sect, one of the four major sects that governed vast territories, each controlling areas spanning over millions of kilometers—a distance unfathomable and uncrossable by mortals. The likelihood of a mortal encountering these celestial beings was virtually nonexistent.
Above the majestic sect, the assembled deities knelt before a singular figure standing commandingly before them.
"Report," commanded the figure, her voice as soft as cotton and melodious as a heavenly choir. This gentle tone indicated she was a woman. Clouds swirled around her, shrouding her form in mystery, making it impossible for anyone to discern her features.
At this, one of the elders who had led the reconnaissance mission stepped forward. "Sect Master, we have flown hundreds of thousands of kilometers in every direction. The further north we traveled, the greater the destruction we encountered! It appears the epicenter of the catastrophe was in the north, with only remnants of the devastation reaching the south."
Upon hearing this, the elders who had investigated other directions inhaled sharply, a collective gasp filling the air. Their skin crawled with the shock of the revelation.
They struggled to comprehend the scale of the disaster. When the destruction had descended, the sect's protective array—a powerful barrier placed thirty thousand years ago by the founder—had activated, shielding the sect from harm. But outside their sanctified boundaries, the land lay in ruin.
Following the calamity, the elders had been dispatched to survey the extent of the damage while the Sect Master attended to repairs of the protective array.
"If it wasn't for the protection array..." One elder gasped, the implication sending chills through their very souls as they digested the grim report.
The Sect Master remained silent; her expression unreadable as minutes of heavy quiet hung in the air. Finally, she spoke with a gravity that stilled any murmurs of anxiety. "Cease all expeditions," she commanded.
The assembly was taken aback, their surprise palpable in the sudden intake of breaths. Before any could voice their questions, the Sect Master continued, her voice tinged with an unusual sternness. "I have been trying to contact the Northern Fiery Sect's leader for the past hour with no response. It seems whatever happened has wiped out the sect completely."
!!!
Her words struck them like a thunderbolt. The Northern Fiery Sect, like their own, was one of the four major sects, each governed by a master of formidable power. The masters of these sects, all similar in strength, ruled different parts of the Phoenix Continent. The Northern Fiery Sect's leader was not only a peer but also a friend to their own Sect Master. The lack of response could only mean one harrowing thing—their demise.
"Call in all those who are still out there. Have them return to safeguard the sect," the Sect Master ordered sharply, then turned and flew off, disappearing into the distance.
"Your word is our command!" the various elders responded immediately. They used communication talismans to recall all members still in the field.
As the group dispersed, one elder lingered, staring in the direction the Sect Master had vanished. "She isn't heading to the Northern Fiery Sect, is she?" he muttered under his breath. Only he and a few others truly knew the Sect Master as a person. He was also acutely aware that her relationship with the Northern Fiery Sect's master extended beyond professional courtesy—they were once senior brother and sister.
Far in the distance, a lone figure soared toward the northern part of the Phoenix Continent with unimaginable speed. In her hand, she clutched a communication talisman, repeatedly attempting to make contact, but each attempt met only with silence—the talisman never responded.
"Brother Kong... you have to be okay; you have to be..." she murmured as she flew. Each word was laden with desperation and hope, echoing the turmoil within as she raced toward the distance north with all her might.