Board & Conquest 135: Annihilation

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The explosion rocked the entire board. 

Wepwawet’s Dragonstar blast rippled within Kronos’ Timecrash Hole and caused it to implode upon itself. The cataclysmic destruction destabilized its energies, ripping apart the heavens and setting them ablaze. A flash of light briefly blinded everyone on the battlefield and a droning rumble echoed across the air. Victoire’s group, which was at the edge of the blast, were thrown to the ground and covered in dust. 

And in spite of everything, Soumis was still alive.

The dragon crashed down below at the feet of Wepwawet’s destroyed Altar at the center of the board, his inherent immunity to fire having protected him from the worst of the explosion. He had, however, taken quite a beating and crashed onto the earth below with heavy bruises and wounds that left him unconscious. 

Dragons were just that tough. 

The Timecrash Hole tore itself apart in his wake, and took out quite a few of Kronos’ units with it on its way out of this world. The Machinedragon, Wizened Dragon, and Genesis Ooze began to glow before turning transparent, their very existence unraveling itself. They faded away one after another in the blink of an eye, leaving no trace of their presence in their wake. 

“Without your Animism, all time-displaced creatures have been shunted back to their respective eras!” Wepwawet taunted Kronos. “Including your precious Machinedragon!”

Kronos grunted in pure annoyance. A single look at the board showed just how quickly the tide had turned on the southern side of the battlefield. With Machinedragon gone and the Atlantean Colossus being torn apart, the Machine Emperor was now left alone to face a werescale army and a group of kaijus, which other troops under Wepwawet’s Champion Boltro were about to reinforce. That creature had no chance to hold the line.

With no other choice, Kronos had his Machine Emperor shapeshift into some kind of fighter plane mode and fly away back to the east to rejoin the troops summoned by Past Ark Timaeus. 

“Running away like you did with Dad, Grandpa?” Artemis taunted him.

“You watch your mouth, whore,” Kronos retorted angrily. “This is just a setback. Nothing’s over so long as I’m still in the game!” 

He’s not wrong, that maneuver cost me Soumis and an Altar at the center of the field, Wepwawet thought. The dragon was simply so wounded he wouldn’t be able to rise up again unless he drew a healing Miracle. We’ve secured the center and stopped the flow of time-displaced creatures, but it’s not a knockout blow. Not by a long shot. 

“Victoire, are you safe and sound?” Wepwawet inquired as his turn reached its end.

“A bit hurt, but nothing too bad,” his dearest Champion replied. “Is Soumis… did he live?”

“He’s alive, but unconscious.” He could hear Victoire’s sigh of relief on her end of the telepathic line. She had truly grown attached to that dragon. “I’ve sent a relief force under Rapoleon and Alpine’s care to recover him. Join up with Artemis’ troops to the south as planned.”

“As you wish.”

Wepwawet’s countdown reached zero, and Ganesha’s turn came up. Whereas Kronos had focused on his allies so far, the wily elephant god had ordered his giants to seize two Altars on the northern side of the board. They would come within range of Kronos’ Dreadnought soon enough.

“My turn,” Ganesha said. His mana surges provided him with ten mana, which Kronos’ Pyramid Pension Plan cut in half. “I play the Rank 1 Ritual All-In. This lets me flip a coin. If I call it right, all of my Miracles’ mana cost will be waived for the rest of the turn. If I call it wrong…” Ganesha clenched his fist. “I will skip my next turn.”

Kronos exploded into wicked laughter. “You foolish, arrogant child! You’re the kind of dimwit youngster who would rather bet their savings rather than invest prudently like your elders!”

“Are you sure about that card, Gany?” Artemis asked with concern that Wepwawet shared. Even if Ganesha’s Providence let him hedge his bets, losing a turn would be crippling for their war effort.

“I can’t play it safe and let my friends do all the work,” Ganesha replied, raising a finger to the sky. “My Lord of Fortune Providence lets me flip the coin twice and keep the better result! I pick heads!”

Two phantom coins appeared in front of him and flipped themselves as every deity present held their divine breath. Artemis covered her mouth, and Wepwawet sweated when the first of them landed on tails… only for both of them to sigh in absolute relief when the second ended up landing on heads. 

“Suck it, old man!” Artemis taunted Kronos.

“In my time, we cut off the hands of cheaters like you!” Kronos complained to Ganesha. 

“Says the guy whose side spent years sabotaging us,” Wepwawet replied before smirking at Ganesha. “Now you should be able to cast Pay-For-Faith and destroy his Doctrine.”

“That I will,” Ganesha said upon playing his now free Miracles. “I begin by casting Pay-For-Faith, which lets me mimic the effect of any Rank 8 or below Miracle from my deck! I pick my Magic Seal, which destroys your Pyramid Pension Plan! Now you can no longer cripple our mana surges!”

“Big deal, you gave me a comfortable retirement sum,” Kronos replied as Pyramid Pension Plan’s destruction imbued him with all the thirty-seven mana points it had stockpiled over the course of the previous turns. “Which I’ll wisely invest in your defeat!”

Ganesha stared at Kronos not with defiance or contempt, but something more akin to pity. The titan didn’t take it well. “How dare you look at me like that, you curry-shitting pachyderm?!”

“You are one of the most powerful and ancient deities in existence,” Ganesha said after a small moment’s consideration. “My father said you are as old as time, and that your name inspires dread to this day… but you still feel the need to show up younger gods to feel confident.”

“It’s called teaching you respect, brat!” Kronos snapped back, the jab flying over his head completely. “That’s the privilege of age!”

“I just…” Ganesha shook his head. “I just don’t understand how someone so big can be so small inside.”

“I’ve got no lesson to receive from an uppity divine janitor!” Kronos retorted with absolute disdain. “I’ve heard from our fly that you run a civilization of the same greedy, self-centered mortals we had to wipe out with floods! Guiding fools is beneath us gods!”

“I agree my mortals can be a… a handful…” Ganesha replied with a shudder. He had grown adept at dealing with giants over the course of the past two years on Elphion, but it took a few self-help courses from his father to handle the pressure. “But that doesn’t mean they deserve to die. The new generations can be educated to avoid repeating their parents’ mistakes–”

“Why educate when you can exterminate?!” Kronos cut in. “Back in my day, we simply wiped out failed mortals and started all over again! You people have gone soft, and I can’t wait to retake Olympus! Things will change back to how they should always have been!” 

“I… I guess I’ll never understand you.” Realizing he was wasting his breath, Ganesha played the rest of his Miracles. “I conclude my turn by setting two Prophecies on the field and casting my Freedom of Movement Doctrine. This lets my units move upon the field of battle without being hindered by difficult terrain or similar effects.”

Ganesha sent a glance to his allies as he placed the cards. Having seen his friend’s hand earlier thanks to Panopticon, Wepwawet knew his set Prophecies were Misleading Price and Power Dice. Ganesha could trigger either when the time was right. 

Wepwawet checked the board state as Ganesha’s turn reached its end. Sultana Alexandrite’s magmorian force and Slimon’s mimic fleet had joined up with one of Ganesha’s two giant armies in the north, but were now within range of Kronos’ long-ranged Dreadnought. Ganesha’s second army had claimed a third Altar for him, which would allow him to summon more reinforcements in a pinch. 

The center of the board was firmly under Wepwawet’s control thanks to his retaken Altar there, and now there were no time-displaced enemies to dislodge him. Soumis was still down, but a group led by Alpine would put him back into shape. Baltro’s group had linked up with Artemis’ army, and Victoire would soon join them. 

The board state now favored them overall, even if Kronos’ forces had managed to seize a new Altar and his Ark continued to produce a small beast army. 

We’ll be able to fly up to the Starship carrying his Idol once we’ve destroyed Kronos’ Dreadnought and Ark, Wepwawet thought. He can’t hope to win a battle of attrition without those two or his Pyramid Pension Plan to cripple us.

Kronos’ turn came and he drew. The titan received fifteen mana points from all of his surges, which brought his total to fifty-eight when taking into account what he obtained from Pyramid Pension Plan and his reserve. 

He has enough mana to cast powerful Miracles, but only three cards in his hand, Wepwawet noted. He should use his Emergency Budget to draw more at a huge cost. If Ganesha times his Misleading Price right…

“I activate my Rank 1 Emergency Budget Ritual’s secondary effect,” Kronos said, acting as Wepwawet suspected. “This turn only, I can pay seven mana to draw an extra card. I’ll pay twenty-eight mana to pick fou–”

“Ganesha, now!” Wepwawet shouted. 

“It’ll cost you more than that,” Ganesha said upon revealing one of his set cards. “My Misleading Price Prophecy will increase the cost of a Miracle by the result of a dice roll, which I get to try twice with Lord of Fortune.” 

Kronos’ expression turned into one of absolute fury when Ganesha rolled two phantom dice. The results landed on a one and a three. 

“I pick three,” Ganesha said with a hint of annoyance, having hoped for a higher roll. “Meaning you have to pay ten mana per card you want to draw rather than seven.”

“I’ll take your tusks and mount them in my throne room!” Kronos threatened in anger. He quickly calculated his odds of drawing good cards while having enough mana to cast them, and was forced to lower his expectations. “I pay thirty mana to draw three cards.”

“I’m sorry,” Ganesha apologized to his allies. “I had hoped for a higher roll.”

“You did good,” Wepwawet reassured him. “Kronos’ deck is combo-heavy, so that extra card he could have drawn might have proved fatal.”

Unfortunately, the vicious grin stretching on Kronos’ face told him he had drawn quite the dangerous cards; an impression that turned into certainty when a dark, cavernous sound began to echo out of that bottomless abyss he called a gullet. 

Laughter. 

“What’s so funny, you old prick?!” Artemis snapped. 

“Let’s just say I have been looking forward to drawing this card for quite some time,” Kronos said before beginning his fateful turn. “I play the Rank 12 Ritual Crush Type Virus. I will designate a non-Artificial Type, and all creatures on the field with it will be infected with a lethal Disease ailment.”

Wepwawet’s eyes widened in pure horror as the words sank in. Artemis paled, and Ganesha choked in dreadful anticipation, each of the gods immediately looking up at their board. All of their armies had a wide-enough variety of Champions to avoid a complete collapse of their armies should that devastating Miracle hit. 

However, there was a type that most of their civilizations shared; something common to humans, werelings, and giants alike. A type that encompassed probably half of their combined troops and that their enemy lacked.  

Kronos grinned sadistically. “I pick Humanoid.”

Fuck.

“I trigger my Guardian Force Prophecy!” Artemis said immediately. “This lets me negate a Miracle that would affect one of my Champi–”

“Too late, boy-girl!” Kronos said upon revealing another card in his hand. “I activate the False Vision Prophecy I just drew! This lets me negate the activation of an enemy Prophecy by paying its cost plus one mana!” 

Wepwawet frantically checked his hand for anything that could save his Champions, but his hopes were dashed with Artemis’ failed countermiracle. 

“A plague is coming!” Wepwawet warned all of his Champions. “The enemy has unleashed a deadly plague! Grab any antidote or healing potion you can–” 

His warning was too little, too late. Kronos’ vile Miracle hit the field and its power infected countless people, Champions and mundane soldiers alike, with an invisible death sentence.

And the reaper took its toll. 

—---

Filou felt it midway through Lord Wepwawet’s warning. 

He was marching with Margrave Boltro’s group alongside Goreville’s pack and the Glarmes knights, walking next to undead he had once fought to rejoin Lady Artemis’ werescale army, when the headache struck him with a warhammer’s strength. A flu-like chill seized him, followed by a sudden weakness in his knees. 

“Filou?” Goreville asked in his shapeshifted winterwolf form, his torc glowing around his neck. “Filou, what’s going on?”

“I…” Filou said, a terrible pain forming in his throat. “I don’t feel so good… Goreville…”

Something was pressing his neck and shutting it tight. When his hand reached for his neck, Filou sensed something swollen pressing against his fingers. He glanced at his allies, at Lord Raymond and brave Kale, only to find them collapsing and holding their sides. Some even began to cough up blood. 

Filou collapsed before he knew what hit him. 

“Filou?!” he heard Goreville shout in concern, calling out to Boltro or any medic nearby, but Filou… Filou couldn’t hear much. All his sensitive ears could listen to were the sound of his blood pounding in his veins to the tune of a quickening heart.

He thought of Lady Victoire one instant, and then he was gone. 

—----

Rapoleon was no stranger to plagues.

His kind was immune to most diseases, though they could still carry them and accidentally infect others; something which had brought the wererats much pain and discrimination. Even today they shared a reputation for being dirty, plague-carrying rodents. He had spent most of his life being especially alert about such things to ensure his kind wouldn’t accidentally spark pogroms in Roynimalia. 

Hence, he immediately recognized the signs appearing on his allies’ necks. Viviane was the first one to show symptoms, buboes appearing out of nowhere on her skin, but Alpine, Mistouffe, and Renarde all began to cough within seconds. Rapoleon immediately took charge and had his wererats lay the sick on the ground for emergency treatment.

Mistouffe came prepared, and her allies only had to open her travel bags to find the antidotes, but people began to collapse before her allies could even open them. Rapoleon all but poured one into Alpine’s throat, trying to save their healer first, but she struggled to drink it in-between coughs. He managed to save her, and one of his allies stabilized Mistouffe, but both Viviane and Renarde stopped breathing. 

And more soon followed. 

—---

So many died while the gods above could only watch. 

Although Cynisca shrugged off the disease, she only survived to watch her husband Jarlack falling off his wyvern from the Expensive’s command deck, followed by half his squad and all the wereowls. Sagesse included. 

Lord Rickard, Lord Raymond, and the entire Glarmes corps were decimated, leaving only undead and beasts to pick up the slack. 

Lourson, Bernard, Gaspar, and the crafters still protecting Wepwawet’s Idol, collapsed one after another alongside half of Narc’s population, turning the capital into a ghost town ruled by carrion. 

The breath of death swept across the battlefield, until it reached a queen in a dragon’s hand.

I… Victoire covered her mouth with her hand, a terrible pain and nausea seizing her all of a sudden. She nearly fell out of Glatisant’s hands when her legs suddenly failed to keep her up and still. I… this hurt…

“You…” Insupportable said as he flew nearby, his eyes widening with horror. “You are sick…”

“Princess Victoire?” Glatisant asked with genuine concern, though the princess part still annoyed her almost as much as the nausea. “Stay strong, Princess Victoire! Surely we will find a minion doctor to heal you!”

No. No, it was already too late. Victoire could feel the sickness travel up her throat like mud coursing through her veins. 

Am I… Am I going to die? Even with the knowledge her god could—would—revive her like he did Goreville and so many others, the prospect unnerved her. I’m… I’m scared.

In spite of everything, death frightened her still. 

“You need… to win…” Coughing those words hurt more than any blow. “Win…” 

“Victoire, hold on!” She heard her god trying to reassure her, though his frantic tone betrayed his own powerlessness. “Just ten more minutes!”

“You better… bring them all back…” Victoire tried to articulate her thoughts, but her crown suddenly felt far too heavy for her head, and her knees too weak. The last thing she saw were golden scales closing in on her, followed by a flash of whiteness. 

The darkness swallowed her whole. 

—---

The names flashed in front of him with the pain. 

Wepwawet had already felt the demise of some Champions in the past through their link, but never so many of them at once. Their souls flowed into him, carrying the agony of their last moments, while the screams and pleas of his followers echoed in the back of his mind. A handful managed to shrug off the plague thanks to native resistances, special loopholes, or having quick access to magical healing, but they were so few. 

Each notification popping up felt like a dagger in the heart. 

Filou, Brave Heart, deceased.

Lourson, Loyal Anvil, deceased.

Viviane Coeurdelion, Lionhearted Archer, deceased.

Renarde, Cunning Courtesan, deceased.

Sagesse, Wereowl Ambassador, deceased.

Bernard, Loyal Chief of Staff, deceased.

Rickart Coeurdelion, Lion Guard, deceased.

Kale L'appétit, Marmiting Knight, deceased.

Raymond Le Hardis, Glarmes General, deceased.

Jarlack, Chief Mercenary Officer, deceased.

Gaspar, Disgraced Sage, deceased.

And then came the worst of them all, the one Wepwawet had prayed he would never see. 

Victoire Fleuret, Blade of Winter, deceased.

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A/N: we're back with explosions ;)