If I Were A Creator 32 End Of An Empire Part 2

The flesh would never gain more strength but it greatly multiplied after every attack, overwhelming the apostles and nullifying their efforts. Then, they switched strategies. Instead of attacking in a rapid frenzy, they decided to attack in short bursts, dealing as much damage as possible. If they attacked in one spot, their a.s.sault will yield better results as the combined strike would reach closer to the cocc.o.o.n's membrane and bring them one step closer to freeing their fellow apostle.

Aligning themselves, they formed a formation where the more physical apostles are placed up front. Then, they charged while the apostles behind casted their strongest spells. Upon the completion of all spells, the melee apostles immediately dashed and sunk their blades into the coc.o.o.n's protective growth.

Bang! Bang!

A ma.s.sive hammer and halberd crashed into the cancerous growth, ripping apart a sizable amount of flesh. Before defensive tentacles can emerge from the gaping wound, a ma.s.sive fist slammed into the deep gash.

Boom!

Flames spread out from the fist and torched the wound, charring and expanding it. Then, four blade wielding apostles leaped up and brandished their blades.

Hum.…

Four streaks of blue light slashed into the charred wound.

Slice! Slice! Slice! Slice!

Then, three magic imbued arrows shot towards the wound.

Xiu! Xiu! Xiu!

Magic arrays formed on the wound and it slowly widened and decayed. Preventing regeneration from occurring, the spell based apostles released their mystic might. Torrents of fire, streams of ice and concentrated blades of wind fly towards the wound.

A brilliant flash of light shone from the wound, destroying flesh with a concentrated blast of violent mana. After two seconds, the light dimmed and a scorching, bleeding wound was all that remained. The delicate surface of the coc.o.o.n was exposed and so, they charged once more.

Before a single weapon lands, hundreds of tentacles suddenly emerged from the coc.o.o.n's surface, wet with fresh amniotic fluid. Each tentacle had a spear like bone structure on its end and by the combined might, the tentacles managed to repel and wound the melee apostles. Thanks to their regeneration, the apostles received no real damage and immediately continued their a.s.sault.

As fifteen minutes pa.s.s, with the apostles failing to penetrate even an inch deeper, the coc.o.o.n's creation is reaching maturity unhindered. In the psychic realm, Miritta, the G.o.ddess of Fertility is losing her essence to Nesfel's brood. A cacophony of hungry snarls and demonic growls flood her psionic domain.

Led by the Large Queen's shadow, shadow version of beasts charged towards her immaterial form, devouring her pinkish light with every successful attack. Her attacks prove futile as the shadow zerg were numberless and she quickly drowned under the sheer amount of attackers. As chunks of pink light detach and enter the army of psionic shadows, the Fertility G.o.ddess' demise draws near.

With only minor resistance, the last of her essence was consumed by the endless darkness and the G.o.ddess of Fertility was no more. Commanded by Nesfel, chunks of her essence rotated violently, spun by the brood's psychic might into a brewing storm to penetrate into the material realm. The storm coalesced into a thick violet cloud and broke through the veil, momentarily shattering s.p.a.ce and infusing itself into the coc.o.o.n.

Spirit and flesh are one and with the unholy union completed, the death of Falmart is born. As her form synchronized with her tainted soul, Mortael is born. Heralding the demise of the empire and its false G.o.ds, the newborn devil wildly cackled.

"Hahahahaha, Apostles!"

The coc.o.o.n violently burst, showering the area in viscera and highly corrosive acid. The strong force of the burst pushed back the apostles by a foot, forcing them to block with their weapons. Like pouring rain, acid showered their weapons, gradually melting them while erasing the psychic marks engraved on these magical weapons.

Psychic marks acted as a rune from where the Falmart G.o.ds bestowed their power to their apostles. A constant flow of energy is required for the mark to possess supernatural properties, which is why apostle weapons are almost unbreakable without the interference of psionic energy. If the acid simply dissolved the weapons, the psychic mark would remain and transfer into the apostles, unaffecting the G.o.ds.

However, this acid corroded both the physical and psychic properties of the weapons, erasing the mark. The mark's connection to the G.o.ds mean that its erasure would severely harm the G.o.ds as it is directly linked to the source of their power, their true selves. The pain and damage they receive would be equal to having their hands doused in a gla.s.s of pure sulfuric acid.

It'll force them to descend, especially when their apostles and followers are also killed en ma.s.se in a slaughter of millions. As the acids doused the divine weapons, they began to melt into a black liquid and as for the G.o.ds, the falmartian G.o.ds are feeling the firsthand experience of an acid attack. In the unseen realm, fourteen G.o.ds screeched in pain and agony as their skin blacken and gaping holes appeared throughout their arms.

While the apostles stare in bewilderment and muttered in disbelief as their weapons corroded into black puddles, Mortael hatched into the world. A towering abomination, a cross between a morbidly obese woman and a silkworm. She had many b.r.e.a.s.t.s, each ending in a small, pint sized black tube and twice as many arms, black skinny arms placed in an almost random pattern around her body. Four ma.s.sive, bent legs support her t.i.tanic body, creating ma.s.sive cracks in the pavement as she moved.

Her face had a maniacal smile on it, her mouth extending to match the length of her circular face's diameter. Serrated teeth protrude from her thin, fleshy lips, giving her victims a glimpse of their fate once she grabs hold of them. The corrupted fertility G.o.ddess, now a fertility devil walked towards the apostles, ready to devour them whole. Tremors shook the ground as she made her way to the apostles.

When they looked up, they found themselves staring into the eyes of a monster. Caught off guard, Giselle and Rory, the apostles of Hardy and Emroy respectively were s.n.a.t.c.hed and shortly devoured by the beast. With their weapons gone, the Apostles were only mortals with immortality and superhuman physique. Their fists and kicks did nothing to Mortael, even her bloated flesh received no harm.

"Weak."

Mortael kicked and punched the apostles, throwing them into an intact wall. The magic oriented ones groaned in pain while the physically adept immediately jumped out, only bruised by the attack. With survival spirit, these apostles punched and kicked at Mortael, earning themselves a gruff snort and a shockwave that blew them a few yards away. With speed impossible for a beast of her size, she s.n.a.t.c.hed and punched the apostles before running to catch them with a punch to the ground.

The battlefield was loud with the cracking of bones, groans of pain and the thud of structures being destroyed. While Mortael played with her prey, the Aberrations made their way to the n.o.ble district, demolis.h.i.+ng all that stood in their path. Now, they are supported by a legion of infested, clawing at the walls as the wave of undead crash towards the defended wall. Arrows descended from the ashen sky in rounds, showering the undead in poisoned, flaming and magical arrows.

However, the infested continue unabated as their wounds were quickly healed. Mages chanted spells and delivered a shower of flames and lightning, clearing holes inside the tide of death. Charred corpses dropped into the ground, burnt to a crisp by the shower of destruction. More showers rained down throughout the battlefield, quickly reducing the number of undead swarming at the wall.

After a few minutes, the leaders of the n.o.ble district's defenses have word that all troops from the east side of the empire have been deployed and an army of a million soldiers will come and liberate the capital. Despite the obvious defeat of all previous forces sent to kill the zerg, most n.o.bles are brainless and rich morons with arrogance so high that even mount everest is dwarfed by it. Thus, they did not notice three important things.

One, the apostles are getting their a.s.ses kicked and they're next. Two, leaving the civilian area less defended is a bad idea. Currently, civilians are being infested en ma.s.se, only pregnant women, children and infants being spared from this fate. Using the infestors, they are coc.o.o.ned and carried by drones into nydus worms where they will enter the villages built for them in the other side.

Three and most importantly, only the foolish would not consider burrowing enemies. With all the defenses set to attack ground and air enemies, the underground chambers containing the defense leaders and the royal family are vulnerable. As of now, thousands of infested are burrowing through the soil, undetected by the various magic arrays protecting the palace and its defenders. The slow burrowing speed calls for more infested to be mobilized, distracting the troops in the walls.

With less resistance, the infested could easily slaughter the imperial high command within a short time frame, scaring the defenders as a flood of undead emerge from within the palace. It'll inflict a good amount of psychological damage, enough for lifelong nightmares. When I let them live, they'll definitely spread tales of the capital's destruction and remind the future generations of Falmart about what happens when you stagnate the world and persecute its demi-humans.

Even if they can't figure that out, the stories should be good enough for the Church of Destruction to quickly dominate the survivors and establish a one government order. After all, the Falmart people need a G.o.d to turn too since they are not aware of what lies beyond the world. I'll think of the religion mechanics later, it's time for divine b.i.t.c.h slapping.

In the underground chambers….

Major n.o.bles, Kings and the Royal Family gathered within this vast, subterranean chamber of stone. Many wooden tables were set up, maps, battle plans and figurines stacked on top of them. Many servants were rus.h.i.+ng around carrying large scrolls and parchment to be delivered to the remaining leaders of the Saderan Empire and its va.s.sal states.

The chamber was loud and noisy, shouts, arguments and plans were being shouted as the surviving leaders propose multiple plans for their next step. Stubborn, traditionalist leaders press that the capital is the jewel of the empire and the symbol of its might. If it were to be abandoned to these invaders, the empire's morale would collapse.

The younger leaders propose escape and relocation, seeing any further attempt in holding the capital futile as their weapons can barely harm them and their numbers are endless. It would only be a matter of time before the palace is overrun and they would be devoured under the relentless tide of acid and claws. As the debate rages on, the infested approach the imperial palace's underground chamber.

Long tunnels were dug by the infested and any tunnels that connected were scouted before being cleared of sentient life. The tunnels were br.i.m.m.i.n.g with infested, their shambling forms marching onwards as they close in to their prey. A lone knight walked through the underground hallways.

He and a few others were sent to search the tunnels for any hidden escape route by the pro relocation faction. After taking a turn in an unknown tunnel, he heard voices from the wall. Moaning, low growls and the occasional snarl sounded from within the dirt wall. Before he could report to his superiors, a psychic presence intruded into his mind and commanded him to leave and gather as many people as possible before moving southwest.

While he left, other soldiers sent to patrol found themselves dragged into the walls, ambushed from beneath or straight up trampled by a fraction of the attacking horde. Soon, the infested slew all soldiers and officials around the chamber, surrounding it while the larger horde burrowed upwards into the room. After a minute, the n.o.bles began to realize that some of their couriers have not returned to them.

They suspect traitors and desertion as their primitive minds could not comprehend the sheer complexity of burrowing enemies. Then, tremors shook the chamber and infested began to emerge from the ground. They clawed and bit anything they saw as they unburrowed themselves into the hall.

Bites and scratches infected the victims, slowly transforming them into infested. Screams and pleas for aid resounded in the hall as the infested ma.s.sacred the n.o.bles and inducted them into their legion of the d.a.m.ned. Once silence reigned within the hall, thousands of infested shamble their way up the palace.

In the following fifteen minutes, the palace was wiped clean of human life and infested. Tendrils and mounds of flesh grow cancerously throughout the palace, transforming the once elegant fortress into a den of infested. Then, they spread out from the palace to attack the last district in the capital, the heavily fortified n.o.ble district.

While the undead army of forty thousand began their siege, a ma.s.sive beast jumped out of the palace's side, raining down debris into the nearby area. The beast had hard, leathery carapace and a worm like shape. Its mouth split into four and regurgitated hundreds of zerglings in a second.

The weaponized dune runners landed unharmed despite falling from several stories high. They began to rush onward in a tide of death towards the n.o.ble district. With the zerglings aiding the legion of infested, the n.o.ble district was lost in a dozen minutes.

Their primitive defenses could only hold back the tide and kill zerg unfortunate enough to meet powerful spells head on. By the time the defenders have lost all their stamina, the zerglings have ravaged the district to the ground. The defenders who saw the destruction understood the futility of their resistance and surrendered.

Upon their declaration, toxic fumes spread from the infested and brought them to deep slumber while their bodies are infected with parasites. Infestors unburrowed and coc.o.o.ned them before drones arrived and carried them into the nydus worm. With the Imperial capital cleared out, the creator commanded Mortael to kill the apostles.

The giant demon of blasphemy was toying with the apostles, crus.h.i.+ng them, throwing them to walls like rag dolls and even biting them like chew toys. Their regeneration made it fun for her, their immortality is their suffering. While impaling a few apostles with her black claws, she received the command to eat them whole.

"With pleasure."

Her mouth opened, revealing several rows of sharp, serrated, rotating teeth. It began to expand to an unnatural size, large enough to devour a medium sized house whole. Plucking the impaled apostles off her claws, she dropped them into her maw.

The vortex of fangs shredded their flesh like a violent mix between a woodchipper and a meat grinder. Their last moments were filled with terror and anguish as their bodies and souls disa.s.sembled painfully. Seeing their comrades die to easily, the rest of the apostles accepted their fates and cried to vent their pain.

Despair aroused the immaterium, seeds of chaos started distorting the empty plane with images of pain and suffering. The psychic form of the devil devoured these seeds, gaining more power as they grew with their suffering. The creator told her to kill them all but she never said that they would be freed from torture.
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So, Mortael swallowed all of them whole and trapped their souls inside of her to be tortured for all eternity. They will repeat a chaotic cycle of suffering and torment designed to drive them into insanity before eating their memories and leaving behind a broken sh.e.l.l that will realize that something's missing but never find it. With fourteen generators inside of her, she could feel her strength increasing gradually.

Currently, her power is only equal to a few dozen daemons combined, but with the batteries, she could reach greater daemon status in a year. With the capital destroyed, the creator sent the might of the swarm to destroy the rest of the empire. Only those who surrender or are children, pregnant or young mothers, elderly or innocent will be spared.

Nydus worms erupt in the middle of all remaining major cities and spewed forth zerg horrors in the hundreds with every pa.s.sing moment. Defenders are all overwhelmed within minutes and an average of 89% of the population are slaughtered. Survivors are given the coc.o.o.n treatment and are escorted to the villages.

As expected, a storm formed above the creator. Lightning crackled on its eye as thunderous roars resounded from the heavens. A mortal would tremble at this sight, but the creator is a G.o.d beyond G.o.ds and this little trick can't intimidate him in the slightest. Soon enough, a voice boomed from the heavens, "We have come!"

Fourteen bolts of lightning descended from the darkened sky, charring the surrounding creep in a 10 yard radius. The lights dissipate and the regal form of humanoid G.o.ds appear. Finally, the G.o.ds of Falmart have arrived.