Varek, still fuming from Saryna's cold dismissal, wiped the blood from his lips with a slow, deliberate motion, his eyes glowing a faint red. With a low growl of annoyance, he reluctantly reached out with his telepathic link, summoning the remaining nine of their group scattered across the empire.
"It's time. Head to the Imperial Palace," he commanded, his mental voice filled with the same irritation he felt. One by one, he felt their responses—a mixture of acknowledgment, indifference, and a few sharp-witted comments.
Satisfied, Varek turned his attention back to the darkened path ahead and began moving towards the Palace, the weight of the night's carnage hanging in the air like a storm cloud ready to break.
---
At the Imperial Palace, the destruction was absolute. The once-grand halls were now rubble and bloodstained floors, echoing the sounds of a dying empire. Saryna and Ulthra arrived first, their figures cutting through the shadowed ruins, the coldness in their eyes mirroring the devastation around them.
Within moments, the others began to arrive, each making their entrance with an air of superiority and power, their very presence commanding attention.
First came Gorrath, a towering demon with horns that curled like a ram's and eyes that burned a deep crimson. His dark armor was stained with the blood of countless foes, and his footsteps were heavy with the weight of his immense power. Gorrath offered Varek a nod, his lips curling into a wicked smile, as if anticipating more destruction.
He had a reputation for being ruthless, and the battlefield was his playground.
Next was Myrris, a slender and graceful woman with deep, golden eyes and long flowing hair that shimmered like the feathers of a phoenix. She glided through the air with a regal presence, her crimson and gold robes trailing behind her like flames. Myrris was known for her deadly fire-based techniques, her command of the phoenix's power unmatched.
Last to arrive was Ulfang, a hulking orc with green skin, towering above the others with his massive frame. His tusks protruded from his lower jaw, and his eyes gleamed with raw power. Ulfang grunted as he made his way through the debris, a giant axe strapped to his back, his every step causing the ground to tremble.
He cast a glance at the group, his expression grim as he crossed his arms and waited in silence.
With all twelve gathered at the heart of the ruined palace, there was an eerie stillness in the air, the weight of their combined power suffocating. Each one of them carried an aura of authority, and despite their different races, there was an unspoken understanding between them—they were united in their purpose, even if their methods and temperaments varied wildly.
Varek, now standing alongside Saryna and Ulthra, gave a sharp nod. "Everyone's here."
Saryna's violet eyes gleamed as she surveyed the group. Her expression remained unreadable, but her posture radiated command. "Good. We move to the next phase of the plan," she said, her voice as cold as the night air around them.
Ulthra leaned lazily against a broken pillar, still grinning from ear to ear. "I hope the next continent puts up more of a fight. This one was too easy."
Lokk's eyes narrowed. "It won't matter. Wherever we go, it will fall just as swiftly. This plane is already lost."
Gorrath cracked his knuckles, a low growl rumbling from his chest. "Let them come. I welcome the challenge."
As the twelve stood together, a sense of impending doom loomed over the ruined palace. The invasion had only just begun, and with each step they took, the Divine Plane inched closer to its annihilation.