“The fight’s pretty intense!” Thultanthar was flying outside in the void, hidden between spatial rifts out of reach of the powerful lightning in the orc plains. It looked like an indomitable mountain, its strength unfathomable.
[Beep! Thultanthar concealed by Shadow Weave, setting defence levels to A1…] A black net spread out in the surroundings of the Netherese city, slowly disappearing as it intertwined with the Weave in the vicinity. It concealed the city’s aura immediately, making in undetectable no matter how close it got to the battlefield.
“Initiate plan,” Leylin ordered indifferently, an icy gaze flashing in his eyes.
He’d taken a risk with his avatar before, engaging with Malar and the orc gods to help Mystra and Tyr deal with the orcs. However, his intentions weren’t to cause trouble for the orcs. After all, they were of the same alignment and were closer to him than Mystra and Tyr.
Still, he was an evil god. The only thing that brought his kind together were benefits, and he wouldn’t hesitate to betray them for his own gains. With the greater gods embroiled in battle, it was the best time for him to execute his plans.
[Beep! Mission established, tracking target… Target found!] the A.I. Chip intoned, a large amount of information being transmitted to Leylin. The backdoor he’d left via that red spot of light activated, allowing the A.I. Chip to execute its mission.
[Beep! Target confirmed! Kingdom’s defences have been broken, beginning teleportation.] A powerful hurricane engulfed Thultanthar alongside the A.I. Chip’s notifications, the violent gales beginning to glow as the city streaked across the void like a sharp sword.
*Buzz!* Thultanthar disappeared into the light, reappearing within the orc plains above a magnificent golden palace.
There were many orc petitioners here, praying to a strange orcish statue. They were startled by Thultanthar’s appearance, and roared in rage.
[Secondary cannons online.] The A.I. Chip’s icy words were the only reply. Numerous cannons atop Thultanthar shot beams of light, dissolving even the holy spirits under their power. A dark web spread across the skies, locking space down before volley after volley of cannonfire razed the palace to the ground.
A god’s true body was revealed beneath the palace, dressed in loose black robes with a black-gold halo of light encircling him. A murky energy shrouded his body. Having suffered a huge loss of divine energy and being forced out of slumber, he roared at Leylin in rage.
“KUKULKAN! AND THULTANTHAR!” His voice held extreme rage and shock, but there also a major portion of fear. He hadn’t been prepared for the flying city at all.
‘That tracker was effective after all.’ Leylin looked at the forlorn Yurtrus before him, his eyes flashing like that of a predator looking at prey.
Malar had never been his target. That ape was only a wild beast that had mastered a part of the law of massacre, not worthy of his attention. The only god of massacre he’d consider targeting was Cyric.
No, his real target was the death god of the orcs, Yurtrus. Massacre and death complemented each other perfectly, each domain being able to support a greater god. They synergized very well, their powers compounding upon each other. They’d definitely serve well as Leylin’s final trump card.
Back on Debanks Island, the innumerable deaths caused by the plague had allowed Leylin to touch upon the law of death. However, it hadn’t allowed him to comprehend much, leaving him miles away from comprehending the law of death.
However, this was the World of Gods, and he was a Magus! Why would he slowly comprehend a law if he could just kill a god and directly steal his position?
There were many Gods of Death in the World of Gods, the strongest of them being Kelemvor the Greater God of Death. However, he was someone too strong for Leylin to scheme against right now, and there were others from different pantheons he could target. Leylin had chosen Yurtrus, because he was considerably weaker than the others as a mere lesser god. An orc god would be much easier to deal with than the gods of the other pantheon.
More importantly, the orcs were currently at war! It was the best chance to strike! With various reasons merging together, Leylin would feel sorry for himself if he didn’t seize the opportunity. That’s why he orchestrated these events.
To fulfill his goal of killing Yurtrus, Leylin had used Malar as a distraction. He pretended to fall for Malar’s schemes in the Moonwood, using his avatar as bait and giving up his location to Mystra and Tyr to have them wipe the orcs out in one shot. The entire process was extremely perilous. If not for multiple trump cards, his avatar would have fallen to Mystra and Tyr.
However, all of that paid off. The orcs suffered huge losses, and Gruumsh was forced to engage in a divine war that dropped all defences. Yurtrus had nobody protecting him, so now was the best time to strike.
Leylin had managed to plant a tracker on Yurtrus in the midst of battle, allowing the flying city to instantly teleport to Yurtrus’ position and slay him.
With Thultanthar having been used against Sekolah before, the gods would definitely have prepared against a greater god with a Netherese city. They concealed their true bodies, preventing instant teleportation into their divine kingdoms. Had Leylin not made all this preparations, he would’ve had to enter Yurtrus’ divine kingdom and track him down inside. By the time the A.I. Chip was done with its scan Gruumsh would have appeared to reinforce.
However, there were no what ifs in the world. His plan successful, Leylin would enjoy his spoils of war.
“What are you trying to do? This is the orc plains. My divine kingdom is extremely close to the Gruumsh. He can immediately send any of his clones over…” Yurtrus golden face seemed to be disconcerted right now, which was an extremely rare expression on a god.
This was the fruit of Leylin’s labour. Several of Yurtrus’ avatars had been slain by Mystra and Tyr, causing enough damage to send him to sleep. Even though he’d sensed the incoming danger now, it would be a wonder if he could use 60% of his power, and he was facing a peak form Leylin alongside Thultanthar.
“Yurtrus… In the name of the God of Massacre, I proclaim you dead…” The phantom of a powerful winged serpent appeared behind Leylin’s back, its demonic wings spread out to cover half of Yurtrus’ divine kingdom. A terrifying gloomy darkness loomed over Yurtrus, devouring him whole.
The serpent’s eyes only contained apathy and greed, causing Yurtrus to be overwhelmed with despair.
*Rumble!* The powerful lightning suddenly stopped in Gruumsh’s divine kingdom, and he roared in fury.
“What happened?” Mystra and Tyr looked ahead in surprise, watching a terrifying scene unfold.
“Yurtrus… You damned vermin, pigmy, bastard of the hells, you actually dare…” Gruumsh roared but it was too late. A divine kingdom dimmed within the orc plains, leaving the area as it headed for the void and fell into the darkness. Anguish surged in Yurtrus’ petitioners as they died without warning, and his priests in the other planes discovered themselves being cut off by the spells of their god.
This could only mean one thing: the Orc God of Death… Yurtrus… He’d fallen!
“It’s the God of Massacre!’ Mystra and Tyr understood this point immediately, but were unable to change the outcome. The orc armies only stalled for a moment, beginning to attack even more ferociously than before!
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