The Guardian gods
Chapter 537

Chapter 537: 537

These reprogrammed mana disruptors were now floating in various strategic positions around their world, their silent emanations weaving an invisible shield. This mana-dampening field covered their entire planet, a disruptive blanket designed to scramble magical detection and obscure any incoming scrying attempts. It wouldn’t take long, perhaps a few hours at most, before the Empire’s mages would discover the interference. But hopefully, by then, what needed to be done would already be accomplished.

Even before the terrifying broadcast ripped through the Imperial lands, a different kind of tension hummed in the hallowed halls of the mages’ towers. Vellok stood alongside a dozen other tower masters, their gazes fixed on a series of scrying screens. They weren’t watching for entertainment; they were scrutinizing. Their collective focus was on the armor’s performance, observing every shimmer, every defensive deflection, every enhancement it seemed to grant the ratfolk.

"The initial reports were... minimal," one of the tower masters murmured, his voice tight. "A ’new batch of experimental gear,’ they said."

Vellok grunted, his gaze never leaving a ratman deflecting a demon’s claw with an almost impossible ease. "Minimal, indeed. This is no mere ’experimental gear.’ Look at the kinetic transference. The resilience against lesser demonic energy. It’s too effective."

"Far too effective," another master chimed in, a tremor of unease in his voice. "They’re fighting with an... unnatural cohesion. A strength they shouldn’t possess."

A heavy silence descended as the implications settled like a cold stone in the pit of their stomachs. The Empire’s strategic doctrine concerning the ratfolk was clear: they were a disposable shield, meant to bleed and delay, to soften the enemy for the ’superior’ Imperial legions. They were never meant to be effective in their own right, never meant to inspire anything but pity or contempt.

"If the armor proves too effective for the ratfolk," Vellok finally spoke, his voice low and deliberate, "then actions will need to be taken. This is the opposite of what the Empire has planned for." He gestured to a screen showing a ratman warrior, now almost radiant in his new gear, carving a path through a swarm of fiends. "An empowered ratfolk is a complication. An empowered, aware ratfolk is a liability."

The other tower masters nodded, grim expressions on their faces. The thought of the ratfolk becoming genuinely capable, genuinely powerful, was anathema to their carefully constructed racial hierarchies and strategic manipulations.

Vellok and the tower masters continued their grim assessment of the battlefield feeds, the flickering images of the empowered ratfolk solidifying their unease. The air in the chamber was thick with unspoken tension, a cold realization settling amongst them: this was a problem far greater than a mere anomaly. Their plans for the ratfolk, for the entire war effort, were being undermined.

It was at this critical juncture that a Fifth-Tier Mage burst into the gathering, his usual composure utterly shattered. His robes were disheveled, his breathing ragged, a clear sign of extreme haste and agitation. The assembled tower masters, powerful in their own right, turned as one, their collective gaze falling on the newcomer.

The Fifth-Tier Mage immediately bowed, a rushed, almost frantic gesture. "Masters, forgive my intrusion, but there is an urgent matter!" he stammered, his voice laced with barely suppressed panic. "There is an unauthorized viewing of the battlefield now spread across the entire Empire! The citizens are having a first-sight view of what is going on right now in the battlefield!"

A chilling silence descended upon the chamber, broken only by the faint hum of the scrying screens. Vellok’s eyes, previously sharp with analytical eyes, narrowed into slits of cold fury.

The others exchanged shocked glances, their faces paling. This wasn’t just a breach; it was an act of profound defiance, a direct challenge to the Empire’s meticulously crafted narrative and control. The very war they had kept distant, abstract, and sanitized, was now being laid bare before the masses.

"Containment!" Vellok roared, his voice cutting through the sudden stunned silence. "Every scrying pool, every mirror, every projection matrix across all provinces! Shut them down! Now!"

The tower masters, jolted from their shock, sprang into action. A flurry of commands erupted, crackling through the arcane communication lines that linked the mages’ towers across the Empire. Junior mages, their faces grim, bent over complex rune circles, chanting spells of disruption and suppression.

"Fourth-tier Diviners, focus on the source!" Vellok commanded, pointing a trembling finger at the Fifth-Tier Mage. "Where is this signal coming from? Trace it! Locate it!"

"We’re trying, Master Vellok!" the Fifth-Tier Mage replied, sweat beading on his brow. "But there’s... there’s an interference! A chaotic mana signature. It’s like trying to find a needle in a hurricane of static!"

A collective groan went through the room. Mana interference on such a scale was unheard of, a direct assault on their divinatory arts.

Even as he spoke, shimmering anti-magic wards began to ripple out from the central towers, attempting to blanket city districts in a silencing field. Specialized runic circles, usually reserved for large-scale magical warfare, were activated, their purpose to overload and disable any rogue scrying connection. Messengers, their mounts already saddled, burst from the tower gates, carrying urgent directives to local garrisons and magical enforcement squads.

But the interference, that baffling chaotic mana signature, persisted. It wasn’t just a shield; it felt... deliberate, almost taunting. And for every scrying pool that flickered back to mundane static, another seemed to hold the raw, brutal image just a moment longer, burned into the minds of the horrified citizens.

The chamber remained a maelstrom of frantic activity, mages chanting, runes flaring, and the air crackling with raw magical effort. Yet, the persistent mana interference continued to baffle their attempts to shut down the rogue broadcasts completely. While some screens across the Empire had flickered back to mundane static, far too many stubbornly clung to the horrific images of the battlefield. Vellok paced, his jaw clenched, demanding updates, each one more frustrating than the last.

Then, after several agonizing minutes, a different tower master, his face pale and etched with disbelief, called out, "Master Vellok! We have a new anomaly!" He pointed to a complex, shimmering map projected onto the central floor, usually used for tracking ley lines and major magical conduits. "Minutes ago, a large number of portals opened simultaneously at multiple high orbital points around our world."

Vellok spun, his eyes narrowing to pinpricks. "Portals? What kind of portals? To where?"

"Unknown origin, your grace" the mage replied, tracing lines on the map. "But our divinatory tracking managed to get a brief lock before the mana interference intensified around those specific points. There are unidentified objects now floating at the locations where those portals appeared."

A cold, biting anger surged through Vellok’s mind, mirroring the growing fury on the faces of the other tower masters. The implication of simultaneous, high-orbital portals, followed by the appearance of unknown objects and a planet-wide mana disruption, was stark and damning. There was only one entity they knew with the audacious power, the sheer magical audacity, to conceive and execute such a maneuver against the Empire’s vaunted magical defenses.

"Kaelen," Vellok snarled, his voice a low, dangerous growl. The name hung in the air like a curse. The self-proclaimed Ogre King, known for his eccentric brilliance and an unnerving ability to weaponize arcane knowledge. This wasn’t some petty rogue mage; this was a calculated strike from a singular, powerful mind. A mind they had underestimated, dismissed, but one that now stood poised to shatter the Imperial narrative.

"He’s been working with the ratfolk," one tower master muttered, the pieces clicking into place with a horrifying clarity. "The new armor... the sudden effectiveness... It all makes sense."

"It does not matter who," Vellok snapped, his gaze sweeping across the anxious faces. "For now, we contain the damage. The broadcast must be stopped. Whatever these ’disruptors’ are, they have a limited capacity, or they will eventually fail. Focus all available resources on pinpointing the source of the broadcast, not just the general interference."

With the source of the interference identified, it was only a matter of time. The Empire’s magical might, once fully focused, was relentless. The mana disruptors, floating silently in orbit, were quickly pinpointed despite the chaotic emissions. Simultaneously, the desperate, hidden locations transmitting the broadcast were discovered, one by one.

For the brave mages who had dared to collude with Rattan, their hearts plummeted. In their hidden positions, portals shimmered into existence. From them stepped grim-faced Imperial mages, their eyes cold and efficient. Without a word, they moved with ruthless precision, their own spells tearing apart the rebel mages’ meticulously set-up equipment. Before any of the defiant mages could utter a sound, their limbs and mouths were bound by crackling magical restraints, their rebellion swiftly and brutally quashed.

Yet, a stark contrast emerged. Rattan, the orchestrator of this daring plan, remained safe. He was shielded by the powerful backing of Kaelen, the Ogre King, whose strategic genius and sudden, invaluable intervention on the battlefield had clearly shifted the balance of power. The Empire, still reeling from the public exposure and the unprecedented orbital attack, suddenly found itself in a precarious position. For now, it seemed, they were far more interested in being in Kaelen’s good graces than in pursuing Rattan, who had proven himself to be an unexpectedly powerful piece in a much larger, more dangerous game.

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