The Frontline - chapter 46(the siege arc act 2)
It began inside the dying heart of Rome.
Monsters phased through the stone, crawling from cracks, ceilings, shadows-everywhere at once. The empire stood fully surrounded, sealed away from the world under Tartarus' devouring darkness. No sunlight. Nearly no air.
The armies of Rome were mortals-ninety percent of them.
Boys barely taller than their spears.
Girls clutching daggers with shaking hands.
Mothers and grandfathers standing shoulder to shoulder.
But after hearing their emperor's final speech, they all agreed on one thing:
If this was their last day alive... they would meet it with dignity
Kids who are shaking
Mother's who holded kitchen knifes
Old geezers who put on their old customs they all had one goal
Screams and steel echoed through the sealed world as citizens fought in every alley. Gladiators formed walls with their shields, locking themselves into formations even as monsters poured over them.
Deep in the city center, Emperor Alexander Severus clashed with a corrupted god-one far above his league. Every swing shook his bones, but he held his ground, shouting to the group of women and children behind him:
"Go! Find shelter! I'll hold him-RUN!"
A woman grabbed his sleeve, terrified.
"Your majesty-please come with us!"
Alexander smiled through blood and exhaustion.
"A king stands so others may flee."
He shoved her aside and met the god's blade again.
On the other side of the collapsing city, Abyss locked eyes with the general from the previous chapter-except the man was no longer human. Tartarus was wearing his body like a suit.
The general's mouth cracked open unnaturally as Tartarus spoke:
"You came alone, child of winds?"
Abyss didn't answer.
He simply stomped down.
CRUNCH.
The body of the general shattered beneath his boot like a rotten shell.
Tartarus' laughter echoed from every direction.
"Ahahaha-too easy, isn't it?"
His voice crawled across the air as he dissolved into the fortress walls, merging with the stone like living magma.
"If crushing a body is simple, why don't I become a wall instead?"
The ground rippled.
A massive stone pillar erupted from the floor, splintering into hundreds of blades that launched in every direction-toward the defending mortals.
Abyss's eyes sharpened.
"No."
Wind burst from his hands-razor clean-and sliced every blade mid-air. At the same time, he reached outward with invisible force, swirling the corrupted, suffocating air around the city.
He was manually cleaning the oxygen so people could breathe.
Tartarus hissed through the stones:
"Ah, how noble. Cleaning the air while your people die."
Abyss ignored him, focusing entirely on keeping the mortals alive.
Although differently elysium was busy doing her own to help
Elysium did not arrive in Palmyra like a visitor.
She arrived like a fact.
No announcement. No herald. No fanfare.
Simply - present.
The palace court fell silent as she walked through its columns, her presence pressing gently against the air like warmth from something too large to look at directly. Servants stepped back without meaning to. Guards lowered their weapons without being asked.
Elysium let them.
She found Zenobia exactly where she expected.
Seated.
Not on a throne.
On the edge of a stone balcony overlooking her city, one leg crossed over the other, reading a document that was clearly more interesting than most people who came to see her.
She didn't look up immediately.
"A goddess visits my palace," Zenobia said calmly. "Either the world is ending or someone needs something."
"Both," Elysium replied.
Zenobia finally looked up.
Her eyes moved across Elysium - not in awe. In assessment. The way a queen looks at another queen before deciding how the conversation will go.
She set the document down.
"Speak."
Elysium stepped forward with the grace of someone who had stood before every power the ancient world had ever produced.
"Zenobia. Queen of Palmyra. Empress of the East." A pause. "I am Elysium. Mother of humanity. Queen of what endures."
Zenobia tilted her head slightly.
"I know who you are." Said lying behind her teeth to appear on equal footing.
"Then you know I do not make requests lightly." Elysium met her eyes. "Rome is dying. Tartarus has sealed it from the world. Mortals fight in the streets against things that should not exist."
A silence.
Zenobia stood slowly and walked to the balcony edge, eyes on the city below her.
"Rome," she said quietly. The word carried weight she didn't bother hiding. "You ask Zenobia of Palmyra to bleed for Rome."
"I ask you to bleed for the people inside it."
"The same people who spent generations trying to erase me." Her voice stayed calm. Almost conversational. "Who called my rule an embarrassment. Who sent armies to remind me what a woman's place looked like."
Elysium did not argue.
She waited.
Zenobia turned back to face her.
"Why should I?"
The question landed simply.
Honest.
Elysium looked at her for a moment.
Then - something shifted behind her eyes.
Not strategy.
Recognition.
"You know what you are," Elysium said quietly.
Zenobia raised an eyebrow.
"Descendant of Cleopatra," Elysium continued. "Daughter of the Nile. Divine blood runs through you whether Rome acknowledged it or not."
Zenobia's jaw tightened slightly.
Not in anger.
In something closer to hunger.
"I am divine," she said.
The words came out like something she had been holding in a clenched fist for a very long time.
Elysium smiled.
Soft. Knowing.
"Yes, comrade. You are."
Zenobia blinked.
That was not the word she expected from a goddess.
Elysium stepped closer.
"Help me save Rome - and I will give you what history tried to bury."
A pause.
"I will unlock what was always already yours."
The air changed.
Elysium raised one hand - not with effort, not with drama - and simply allowed what could be to become real.
She was the harbinger of fantasy. The architect of what might exist.
And so she entertained the truth that lived just beneath the surface of Zenobia - the divine inheritance that history had pressed flat like a flower under stone -
and she let it breathe.
The light came first.
Slow. Golden. Rising from Zenobia's skin like sunrise moving upward instead of across.
Zenobia looked at her own hands.
Her breath caught.
For just a moment - the composed, unshakeable queen looked genuinely young.
Then the light stabilized.
And she stood differently.
Not taller. Not louder.
Just - true.
Like something that had always been there had finally decided to stop pretending it wasn't.
Above the palace the sky responded to her - a warmth descending that had no visible source.
Elysium gestured outward.
The army appeared.
First their banners - blazing with the sigil of Amun, the sigil of Ra, gold and fire woven into fabric that moved like it was still burning. Then the soldiers themselves, armor catching light that didn't belong to this hour of day. Thousands of them, standing in perfect silence.
Waiting.
Zenobia stared.
Then she exhaled once - slowly - and lifted her chin.
"The army of Amun." Her voice was quiet. Reverent. "The army of Ra."
She looked at Elysium.
"Mine?"
"Claimed," Elysium said simply.
Zenobia was silent for a long moment.
Then she turned to face her new army.
And smiled - not kindly.
Like someone who had been told no for a very long time and had just run out of patience with it.
"Then we march."
The Sassan camp was different from Palmyra in every way.
No elegance. No columns. No quiet.
Fires burned in open pits. The sound of metal and training and shouting filled the air at every hour. The tents were massive and functional and cared nothing about beauty.
Elysium walked through it all without adjusting her pace.
Soldiers stared. A few reached for weapons before thinking better of it. One man simply pointed at her and looked at the soldier beside him as if expecting an explanation.
None came.
She found Ashdran in the center of the camp doing something no king had any business doing personally.
Sparring.
Not supervising. Not watching.
Actually fighting - three of his best soldiers at once - laughing while he did it.
He was winning, which tracked.
Elysium stopped a few feet away and watched.
He landed a strike that sent the third soldier stumbling backward into a tent pole, then straightened up and finally looked at her.
He didn't go still like Zenobia's court had.
He just - looked.
"Hm." He grabbed a cloth and wiped his hands. "You're real."
"Disappointing?" Elysium asked.
"The opposite." He studied her the way a general studies terrain. "What do you want?"
No title. No ceremony.
Elysium appreciated that.
"Rome is sealed inside Tartarus' domain," she said. "I am building a force to break it open. I want the Sassan Empire."
Ashdran laughed.
Short. Genuine.
"You want me to save Rome." He said it like she'd made a decent joke. "You know what Rome is."
"I know what's dying inside it."
"People." He shrugged once. "People die."
"Not while I have anything to say about it."
He looked at her for a long moment.
Something moved behind his eyes - not softness. Something more like respect searching for a reason to exist.
Then he crossed his arms.
"I possess the Khvarenah," he said.
His voice shifted when he said it. Not arrogant - certain. The way a man states something he has built his entire identity around because he is not wrong.
"The divine royal glory. The aura heaven itself grants only to a legitimate ruler." His jaw set. "I do not follow. I am not sent. I am chosen."
Elysium met his eyes.
"I know."
That surprised him.
She stepped forward.
"The Khvarenah is not a metaphor," she said quietly. "Not a story kings tell to make subjects obey. It is real. It burns in you." A pause. "I can feel it from here."
Ashdran went still.
It was the first time he'd gone still.
"To rule is not enough for what you carry," Elysium continued. "You have always known this. Kings rule. What you are-"
She let the sentence sit.
Ashdran's eyes narrowed - not in suspicion.
In recognition.
"-is worshipped," he finished.
Elysium said nothing.
She simply raised her hand.
And entertained the truth of him.
The Khvarenah - ancient, blazing, real - responded to being acknowledged by something that existed older than crowns.
It erupted from him like a second sun.
Not gentle like Zenobia's.
Violent. Immediate. Aggressive.
Like something that had been held at the surface of his skin his entire life and had finally been given permission to leave his body.
The soldiers around them shielded their eyes.
The fires in the camp all bent toward him at once.
Ashdran looked at his hands - and for half a second his expression was the same as every man who had ever been right about himself and finally had proof.
Raw.
Then it sealed back into composure.
He looked at Elysium.
"You are asking a god to follow you into war."
"I am asking a god," Elysium said calmly, "to go to war beside me."
A difference.
He heard it.
Ashdran was quiet for exactly three seconds.
Then he turned back toward his camp.
"SASSAN EMPIRE-" his voice tore across every tent and fire pit and sparring circle at once, "-WE MARCH."
No explanation.
No vote.
No debate.
The army moved.
Because when the Khvarenah spoke through a man's voice -
you simply moved.
Elysium walked beside him as the camp erupted into motion.
"You entertained my claim," Ashdran said quietly, not looking at her.
"I recognized it," she replied.
He was silent a moment.
"Is there a difference?"
Elysium smiled.
"Ask me after the battle."
He almost smiled back.
Almost.
Although
From the ruins, dozens of hidden demigods burst out, shouting their group name:
"GODS' BASTARDS, MOVE OUT!"
They charged together at a titan whose fist alone could level an entire street.
The titan roared:
"YOU ARE LESS THAN DUST-"
The demigods braced together, swords crossed, bodies locked, shouting:
"HOLD-HOLD-!"
The titan's punch collided with them, and though it sent several flying, the line didn't break.
A younger demigod screamed:
"For Rome! For our lives!"
Above the battlefield, two gods combined their power into a single city-destroying blast
A child whispered:
"Mama... that light..."
Before the beam could hit-
FLASH-SHING-!
A wall of armored heroes materialized out of thin air, cloaks flowing with divine brilliance-
Not just them.
The sky itself seemed to fracture as divine-claiming factions descended, answering a call older than kingdoms.
At the center-
Elysium.
Then-
The battlefield burned gold she wasn't alone.
The Sun Legions of Zenobia arrived not as reinforcements-
but as royalty returning to a throne that was never theirs to lose.
Their armor reflected light that did not belong to this world.
Their banners carried a blazing sigil-
not painted-
alive.
At their front-
Zenobia.
She did not rush.
She walked.
Each step turning dust into embers.
Her presence alone forced monsters to recoil, and many to rethink as her Passion burned like a scorching sun
Her voice rang clear across the battlefield:
> "You fight well... for those who forgot what the sun looks like."said to the Romanian demigods
Then she raised her blade-
and the sky answered.
A beam of searing light descended, splitting a Titan spawn in half before it could even roar.
> "Sun lineage..." she continued, eyes sharp, pride unhidden-
"is our own burn bright like the sun." as her many soldiers spoke one name bel and the sun
A step forward.
> "It is proven." moved like a Cleopatra she claims to be
Behind her-
the Sun Legions surged.
Not chaotic.
Not desperate.
Dominant.
Then the earth trembled.
Not from fear-
but from force.
From the east-
came Ashdran I, leader of the Sassan Empire.
No divine glow.
No elegance.
Just power.
His army of demigods marched like a storm contained in flesh-
and Ashdran?
He didn't wait for formation.
He charged first.
A one of many horrors struck
Ashdran caught the blow.
The ground beneath him shattered, but he didn't move.
His eyes burned.
Not calm.
Not controlled.
Furious. Alive.
> "IS THAT ALL?!" he roared.
He slammed his fist forward-
and the classified horror entire upper body exploded under the impact.
His army followed instantly, feeding off his rage.
No hesitation.
No tactics.
Overwhelming force.
And then-
something changed.
The battlefield, once chaotic, began to... stabilize.
Water.
Soft.
Flowing.
Unyielding.
The Scions of Anahita had arrived.
Where Ashdran demanded-
they flowed.
Where Zenobia dominated-
they balanced.
Their presence calmed the battlefield without weakening it.
Wounds slowed.
Breaths steadied.
Even fear itself seemed... diluted.
One of their elders raised a hand-
and a collapsing line of soldiers found strength again.
Another stepped forward-
placing a palm on a dying demigod.
The bleeding stopped.
Not healed-
but refused to continue.
They did not shout.
They did not boast.
They simply acted.
And for the first time-
those who once prayed for each other's downfall stood together.
By one name.
ELYISUM.
They slashed the combined attack apart.
Their commander roared:
> "BY THE NAME OF OUR GODDESS-RAGE!"
Not a single demigod understood the words.
The Elysium army spoke a foreign language-
but every soldier on the battlefield screamed back instinctively:
> "RAGE!"
The morale exploded.
Humans and demigods tore through monsters and gods alike.
High above, Elysium floated with her ever-present bow, firing arrow after arrow-precise, quick, perfect.
She shot down two corrupted gods in a row.
Then the remains of the Thalassie tribe.
Then a winged daemon.
But as the ancient Titans emerged-
not just the Twelve okay who we click bait their only 2 of the actual ancient one and others just randoms they breed inside Tartarus
others.
Older.
Wrong.
Spreading across the battlefield-
She felt her stomach twist.
> "No... even for me..."
She exhaled shakily.
> "Deaths... casualties... are unavoidable."
For the first time in the battle-
she lowered her bow.
> "I can't save everyone."
Below-
Zenobia stood her ground, staring at a Titan twice her size-
smiling.
Ashdran laughed as he bled-
and charged again.
The Scions of Anahita held the line-
even as it cracked.
And Elysium
Wiped her tears.
Then shouted:
> "MY SOLDIERS! CASUALTIES ARE UNAVOIDABLE!"
Her voice shook the entire realm.
> "FIGHT LIKE YOU FIGHT FOR YOUR OWN KINGDOM!"
A heavily armored hero ran up beside her, eyes burning.
> "Goddess Elysium, shall we value the enemy's soul?" said alkane the last prince of the ekimoda elysian
She hesitated-
only for a heartbeat.
Then whispered:
> "...No mercy."
The hero nodded.
Drove his blade through a Titan's chest.
> "No mercy."
And the battlefield echoed-
> "NO MERCY!"
"NO MERCY-!"
The siege had fully begun.
But abyss vs Tartarus ain't done
Tartarus expanded until he was no longer a figure at all-
he became a fortress, a living bulwark of corrupted stone stretching across the sealed dimension.
Abyss, only 6'9, looked like a speck in front of a moving mountain.
But he didn't hesitate.
He cracked his knuckles.
"You're nothing but a rusty wall."
Abyss launched himself upward-
-but a giant stone fist rose from the fortress and hit him mid-air.
BOOM-!
The punch hurled Abyss several kilometers into the dark sky.
Abyss grinned as he sailed upward.
"Perfect."
Now far from the mortals, he hovered in midair.
The wind around him turned black, twisting tightly against his skin.
He pulled his limbs inward-compressing himself into a dense sphere as the entire atmosphere went still.
A point formed at the center of his being.
A singularity.
Abyss whispered:
"Anchor: set."
Then he fired.
Gravity-shaped spheres-dark, crushing orbs-shot downward at the fortress-body of Tartarus. Each impact tore massive wounds into the ancient being, forcing the titan primordial to roar in shock.
Tartarus surged upward, a gigantic face forming from the stone, rushing after Abyss.
Two massive hands of rock formed behind Abyss, trying to crush the singularity like a ball.
Abyss said calmly, without turning around:
"You forgot something, Tartarus."
Tartarus froze.
"You can't hear me in here."
The singularity imploded-
INWARD.
Tartarus' body was dragged into the collapsing fold of space, shrinking forcefully as he was pulled inside.
The world blinked.
Abyss and Tartarus disappeared into Abyss's own rule, a pocket space made of void, pressure, and black wind.
The realm was pitch dark.
The air tasted like iron.
There was no up or down.
Abyss appeared first, floating effortlessly.
"I didn't want to reveal this..."
His eyes glowed white.
"...but you forced me to, Tartarus."
From his body, swirls of darkness peeled away-
souls, thousands of them-twisting into spectral hands.
They wrapped around the reduced Tartarus, gripping, pulling, restraining him.
Tartarus, now shrunk to fit the black hole's interior, bucked like a raging bull.
"RAAAAGH-!"
He reformed his body into bladed edges, stabbing Abyss-
but Abyss didn't move.
He simply hugged Tartarus with one arm.
"Now your power is mine."
Tartarus's eyes widened with something close to terror.
"I- I can't cage your soul-!
No-NO-this cannot be-!"
He thrashed violently.
He tried to kick Abyss away.
He tried to expand.
He tried to corrupt the void.
But nothing worked.
Abyss had abandoned his physical limits, becoming something closer to his true nature-
a voidborn, shapeless and impossible to trap.
They clashed in a blur, Tartarus clawing and ramming, Abyss striking with perfect precision. For the first time in existence, Tartarus felt what it was like to be on equal ground-
with no advantage.
Each blow from Abyss smashed the fortress-face left and right, forcing Tartarus into a corner of the domain that should have been infinite.
Finally, Tartarus snapped.
Stone cracked as he forced a doorway open in his chest.
"TOO BAD-
I AM NOT DEFEATED!"
The door inhaled the black hole itself-
-and the two were ripped back into the physical Rome dimension.
The city reappeared around them
Tartarus roared in fury and summoned two colossal pillars, each the size of the entire empire, tipping them forward to crush the kingdom in one final act of destruction.
Abyss dropped to one knee-
his void form dissolving.
He needed a physical body.
Now.
He forced himself back into his own form just as Tartarus kicked him.
Abyss slammed into the ground so hard the stone cracked beneath him. His vision flickered. He almost lost consciousness.
Almost.
But then he saw the pillars falling upon Rome.
And he remembered the mortals.
The demigods.
Leyla.
Elysium fighting alone.
He forced out one breath:
"Stop... that... madness."
Wind exploded from his back.
He shot upward, forming solid wind-ropes-
unbreakable bindings-
connecting the two falling pillars.
Then Abyss grabbed those ropes.
Every muscle in his body screamed.
Every vein bulged.
The pillars kept falling.
Abyss roared:
"HOLD-!"
And the chapter ends with:
Abyss, alone, holding back two empire-sized pillars, wind tearing the sky apart, Rome shattered beneath him, Tartarus laughing somewhere in the dark-
-and the fate of the empire hanging by the threads of his wind.
He reformed his body into bladed edges, stabbing Abyss-
but Abyss didn' move as he held the fate of the world with all he can.