We're officially back! 100+ pages of the new are out. A few people have made it over, but it seems like a lot haven't. A lot also seemed to have missed the last update. The announcement that I was coming back got double the views of the actual release date post. Not sure why, but here's another reminder!

  I'll likely do one last post for when the new fic goes past where I left off on this one. After that, I'll set this to dropped let it finally rest.

  I don't have anything else to add, but got to hit the word count so here's the beginning of the new prologue.

  CHAPTER 0: THE END

  ~In the darkest nights, the stars are our guidance~

  ‘Dalric’ spasmed. Blood oozed from his eyes and nose, joining the stream that already flowed from his mouth. Now, no inch of his twenty-eight foot frame remained unbloodied. Still, he remained unbeaten. The spell burned Thunderfield above him, but for all the stars' fire the skies remained dark. The skies remained theirs.

  “Uuawgh!”

  An arrow exploded in his elbow, finally severing what remained of his left arm. The twenty or so remaining elites roared in celebration. They were all that was left. Their lessers had no arms to raise and no voice to cheer.

  Soon, none would.

  Thunderfield bellowed above him, its fury echoing across the plains. Mounds of fallen soldiers fell apart as its warcry shook the battlefield. It demanded release and ‘Dalric’ would not deny. When he relaxed his right hand, the sky screamed.

  As if oblivion expanded down from the heavens, the pitch black clouds produced even darker lightning. The typically vast and uncountable streaks of Lightning Rain were reduced to just ten, but each held the power of thousands. They fell like a ravenous plague, searing the very air in their path.

  Immediately, the would-be heroes realized that only a few of their number could survive their descent. With an idiot's resolve, a dozen separated themselves and charged toward him. Death would greet them all the same.

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  Two managed to pincer him in less than a blink, both wielding maces, both wielding the wind. Miniature tornadoes had already clung to the length of their weapons, but when the tandem swung for his body, they grew to typhoons.

  It wasn't enough. The maces smacked his stomach and back with enough force to devastate the area. The winds were ruthless, stripping the earth beneath him, already beaten, bloody and riddled with bodies, completely bare. Yet, all ‘Dalric’ did was groan.

  As he felt the pain course through his body, so too did he feel the metal plate crumble against their palm. He swung his left arm behind him and ejected the blood in his stump. The toxic sludge flew at the final Tempest Rogue. They dodged. Only to be met with the flying corpse of their companion. They dodged again. Their speed was rightfully renowned, few things could touch them. ‘Dalric’ was one of those few.

  While they dodged, he turned. Eye to eye, there was nothing they could do to stop him from grabbing them and crushing their bones as well.

  “Arugh!”

  As the Rogue fell, a third Harpoon of Rot joined the couple already lodged in his chest. ‘Dalric’ spun and caught the fourth. He instantly infected it, distorting its enchantments but keeping the rot attunement. Without wasting a movement, he looked beyond the onrushing bodies, and launched it at the irritant.

  He didn't have time to see if it hit true. He reached down, feeling the earth beneath his ethereal chains, and commanded it. The now dried and dead soil split, revealing a bloody chasm beneath. As the group drew nearer, seven colossal arms emerged, each wielding a different, iridescent weapon.

  The more lithe of the ten maneuvered through the array of armaments with relative ease, but that still left four battling the seven arms of Ondr?m. A feat thrice their number would struggle with.

  ~Your blood is a rich wine, we're parched~

  Another vexing spell. Between the rot, the Nightkin, and keeping Thunderfield active, his offensive capabilities were near nullified. It didn't truly matter, he was playing a waiting game anyway, but they found it irksome letting the little vermin run around.

  ~The legions of Lyric will not be denied~

  The follow up spell bounced off his skin harmlessly. Unlike the Nightkin, the Orator’s power was too meager to penetrate it.

  Or so he thought.

  ‘Dalric’ suddenly felt his left shoulder grow weaker. They snarled. Even poisoned as it was, it had its uses. He briefly tried to counteract the spell, but had to stop on account of the four swords attempting to cleave it off. He evaded the first three as they either flew or cloudwalked to his chest, but the fourth was a feint. Their true aim was his neck.

  They found it.

  They also found out both it and his right arm were still in perfect working condition. While their blade caught in his skin, their body sailed into Ondr?m’s maw.

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