One of the most annoying traits of Will-based attacks was the Time components it carried. A target would be suppressed in a single moment, unable to leave the attack zone until the effect of the move had run its course or its power was exhausted.
A man could easily escape a burning building if there was a clear path of escape, but if it was a Will-based attack that was made on that burning building, then he would be forced to remain inside the building until the flames had run their course or the building collapsed.
It was basically a stun lock whose duration was determined by the power of the caster.
Even with the ability of their golden flames to eat the energy, if the Blood Blessed could not break out of the Time aspect of the attack, then they would have to endure the entirety of the onslaught until its energy ran its course, that was not a feasible strategy.
Even with the combined energy of all the Blood Blessed, they could not hope to stand against the might of the red sun released by an Ascendant of such high ranking, and the plan was that they would depend on their bodies' nature to resist the effects of Time to break the hold of this move. At least that was the hope. No one here could say for sure if any of their conjectures would work.
The combined force field of three billion Blood Blessed should be enough to hold back the tide of devastation for a few seconds, and if that was not enough to break the hold of time in the red sun, everything would be over.
This was a plan built on hope. Its foundations are made of straw. It was a final gamble of desperation against a slow but inexorable tide of death that was encroaching on them, yet none of them backed down. How could they, for the first time in forever they were able to stand and fight for their fate, that was reward enough.
R
"You know there is something strange about this picture. You see, I expected some of you to flee, kinda looking forward to it actually, not for any sick sort of pleasure, but to see this situation through the eyes of someone else who is not so gung-ho about death. Do you understand what I mean?" fгeewebnovёl.com
The color of billions of blooming golden flames was reflected in the eyes of Lost, as he spoke aloud.
His nimble fingers had been crafting a large amount of runes all these while and depositing them inside a pouch beside him, he did not stop what he was doing while he continued speaking,
"Surely you all must be feeling the power behind this misfortune heading for you all, it is simply common sense that when you are on the path of an unstoppable object, you would give way. I mean not you-I don't think you know the meaning of giving up, but not everybody can be you."
The golden giant had just resurrected from death and he was panting aloud, his body unconsciously shaking from the memory of the unearthly pain of having your entire body shredded to pieces repeatedly-his blood below would fill ten large pools and his flesh build a small hill, but upon hearing what Lost had said he grinned and slowly came to his feet, pausing in his grim acts,
"You don't understand my people. Not one bit. This fight, this moment, it is everything."
"Does that seem so very strange to you? I don't think it is, I dare say, perhaps more than any of us here, you can perfectly express the sentiments in our hearts. Living a life of utter hopelessness and being brought to this great city where our future could not have been brighter. Even if we all die in the defense of the Creator, we know that within him lies our hope. If we fall in his defense, in our ashes he will raise us up, stronger than before, and it would not matter if it is not us that returns but our legacy."
Lost seemed to recollect something and he smiled, "somehow I think he would consider this matter from an opposite perspective, where he is the umbrella that shields us all. I know nothing pains him more than seeing his children suffer. Imagine the hurt that a stone has to feel in order to cry, and then perhaps you shall understand what a loss of just one of you does to him, and now, I fear that pain would be worse."
"We will not fail him," the golden giant said with a tone of finality in his voice and he returned to his grim task.
"No, we will not," Lost whispered as he returned to weaving runes, "Lady of Shadows, now more than ever I need your guidance. Vraegar, Diane, Fat Sage, I am lost without you all by my side. The path is dark, and before me, all I see is the color of blood."
The Ascension Spear below released a subtle vibration, so slight that even Lost missed it. With his focus on crafting his runes and watching the descending disaster, he could not hear
the cry of rage that was arising from the Ascension Spear.
"No more...no more... no more... I want no one else to ever die for me again."
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Primordial Record