My world-tree system-Chapter 46 - 45: Pressure

In a place far from Vollua:

The dark room of a fortress vibrated with an unholy energy. Kassandra screamed.

Her body, once sculpted by years of discipline, was now a carcass stained by the demonic glyphs etched into her flesh. Her skin, once smooth and luminous, was marked by deep scars, burns blackened by corruption. Her muscles, which once inspired strength and agility, trembled under the strain of the magic of the Lords of the Apocalypse.

Around her, the Seven sat silhouetted in the shadows, their shapes barely discernible against the flickering glow of the infernal flames.

One of the Lords, tall and draped in an absolute black cloak, took a step forward. His eyes, two unfathomable abysses, rested on the captive.

- She’s tenacious.

Another, whose voice whistled like an ill-fated wind, sneered.

- It doesn’t matter now. We’re only playing, let’s get serious and she’ll bend effortlessly.

Kassandra gasped and raised her head, defying her torturers one last time. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

- You... will not... have my mind...

His breath was shallow, but there was still a glimmer of rebellion in his eyes. A tiny, flickering spark.

The Lord in front of her smiled an icy smile.

- Oh... but yes.

With a slow, calculated gesture, he traced a scarlet glyph in the air, an unholy mark, a signature of obedience that not only annihilated the will... it reshaped the soul.

The glyphs coiled around her like hungry snakes, seeping into her skin, embedding themselves in her bones, in her mind, in her very essence.

The pain was unspeakable.

An inconceivable scream escaped Kassandra’s lips.

Her body buckled under the atrocity of the ritual, her muscles convulsing as the magic tore away every fragment of her consciousness, crushing her memories, her personality, her past.

His eyes, once sparkling with pride, became empty.

His back stopped shaking.

Her fingers, clutching the chains that held her in place, loosened.

Then, slowly, she straightened her head.

Her green eyes had turned red.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

The Lord dressed in black armour stepped forward, observing the work he had done. He grabbed Kassandra by the chin, forcing her to look him straight in the eye.

- Who do you obey?

Kassandra’s voice, once proud and vibrant, was now a soulless whisper.

- My masters...

A satisfied smile stretched across the Lord’s lips.

He released her.

- You are going to join the elves of the World Tree. You will tell them that you are the last surviving woodlander and that you are seeking refuge.

Kassandra nodded slowly, without hesitation.

- You’re going to infiltrate their city.

- Yes, you will.

- You’re going to win their trust.

- Yes...

The Lord leaned forward slightly, his voice a venomous whisper.

- And you will deliver Foster to us alive.

A flash of red flashed through Kassandra’s eyes, and for the first time since she had been marked... she smiled.

A false, hollow, artificial smile.

- As you command...

As Kassandra left the room to carry out her mission, the Lords of the Apocalypse gathered.

The atmosphere in the great council chamber was icy.

The black walls of the fortress vibrated under the effect of the contained anger that oozed from the Seven Lords of the Apocalypse.

The silence was heavy, broken only by the murmur of dark flames dancing in huge obsidian braziers.

Then one of them spoke up.

- Three...

A venomous hiss, charged with cold rage.

- Three of our generals have fallen.

His voice was frighteningly calm, but the shadows around him stretched and trembled under his restrained fury.

Another Lord struck the table violently, causing the whole room to shake.

- Unacceptable! Three generals! Slaughtered by a miserable elf and a handful of insurgents!

The tallest of them, draped in a cloak of pure shadow, spoke in turn, his voice sounding like a death knell.

- We underestimated these elves. They’re... different. More than we thought.

The Lord in Black Armour slowly folded his hands, and his voice, though calm, made even his peers shudder.

- We’re going to have to play differently. Without this thing we could have acted ourselves, but we are forced to. Let’s play smart my brothers.

With a slow gesture, he snapped his fingers.

Immediately, a black wave spread through the room, passing through walls and stone, spreading across the fortress like a wave of sinister energy.

A moment later, six silhouettes appeared.

They arrived without a sound, immediately kneeling before their masters.

Six fearsome presences. Six incarnations of destruction.

The first, a colossus of bone and flame, his gaze burning with hatred.

The second, a hooded figure, her face hidden by a veil of shifting shadows.

The third, an alabaster-skinned woman, her smile as sharp as a blade.

The fourth, a massive warrior covered in scars, his aura giving off an insatiable thirst for carnage.

The fifth, a reptilian creature with black scales, its yellow eyes scanning the assembly with a pernicious gleam.

And finally, the sixth... an entity made purely of dark liquid, whose shape seemed to change with every heartbeat.

They were the survivors. The most powerful of Hell’s generals.

But today... they were no longer feared.

Today, they were called to order.

One of the Lords stood up slowly, taking a few steps forward. His shadow spread over the six kneeling warriors, covering them like a shroud.

- There are six of you.

His tone was neutral. Icy.

- Six of the nine we have chosen to carry our will into this world.

He paused, letting his words sink into the minds of his servants.

Then he uttered a single word.

- Unacceptable.

Immediately, the air became heavy. Oppressive.

The generals bowed their heads, stunned by the pressure.

The Lord continued, his voice filled with cold rage.

- Three of you failed. Three of you died. And not against an army. Not against a divine force.

He leaned over, his shadow thickening, becoming almost tangible.

- But against an elf.

A shiver ran through the assembly.

The colossus of flame dared to raise his head.

- Lord... we didn’t think that

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence.

A dark hand sprang from nothing and crashed down on him with unprecedented violence.

The giant was thrown backwards like a common puppet, colliding violently with a stone pillar. His body shook from the impact, but he remained alive... panting, frightened.

- Silence.

The Lord stepped back, giving the six generals a moment’s respite.

Then, in a dry, implacable tone:

- Listen carefully.

Another Lord, sitting in the shadows, spoke up, his voice as sharp as a blade.

- You all have a mission.

He held out his hand, and in the air appeared a map of Vollua, burning with an aura of evil.

- These elves must fall.

The six remaining generals exchanged furtive glances.

- Fail...

The shadow of the Lord in black armour is growing, swallowing up most of the room.

- And even dying will be too merciful a punishment.

A deathly silence fell over the room.

The generals did not flinch.

They knew.

They were afraid, a primal fear that came from deep inside them.

And this fear... it forced them to obey.