(17 days before Veyr’s scheduled Execution, The Pit)
As instructed by Mauriss, the Righteous Faction forces gathered on The Pit seventeen days before Veyr’s execution, as fleet after fleet arrived in steady succession while the landing zones filled with disciplined formations stretching across the barren plains.
*Step*
*Step*
*Step*
Each army division marched out with an air of practiced confidence, as elite soldiers who had seen countless campaigns carried themselves like veterans who no longer needed to proclaim their worth, while subtle glances exchanged between rival units revealed the familiar spark of internal competition.
The Pit became a meeting ground for some of the most accomplished fighters in the universe, as everyone present seemed eager to prove their banner stood higher than the rest, maybe hoping that their presence here would later be recorded as part of a historic moment.
As even within the same organization, pride simmered beneath the surface, as officers walked with slightly raised shoulders while comparing ranks in passing, and younger soldiers whispered about which division carried the stronger legends into this gathering.
"Yeah, yeah, Commander Dewey is a good fighter, I heard he once killed an Ancient Swamp Frog on his own.
However, Commander Potter is in a league of his own.
I once saw him suppressing two Transcendent Tier opponents with a single attack!
I can’t describe how it looked.... But it gave me goosebumps!
I’m so glad I fight for Commander Potter."
"Oh please, everyone knows Commander Potter accredits Commander Dumbledore to be his teacher.
Commander Dumbledore has been suppressing the Cult before Commander Potter was ever born.....
He is clearly the strongest warrior around!"
"Nonono, I agree Commander Dumbledore is a legend, however, he once said it himself.
He considers Commander Mort to be his greatest rival!
Now, history books tell us that Commander Mort was once part of a unit that captured a Cult Planet from Dragon Kevin 200+ years ago.
He’s a veteran and a true legend!"
The soldiers discussed, however, while competition among the Righteous Faction remained controlled and respectful, the same could not be said for the native barbarians of The Pit, who watched the newcomers with open disdain as they leaned on stone pillars or perched on canyon ledges with mocking grins.
These barbarians saw little value in uniformed armies, as they preferred strength proven in personal combat rather than in formation drills, and hence they made no effort to hide the amusement in their eyes while elite battalions passed them by.
Some barbarians stepped forward deliberately to invade marching paths, as though daring the Righteous soldiers to react, while others threw taunts laced with challenge, maybe hoping to provoke a duel that could end with one of them gaining a warrior’s glory.
However, despite the Righteous Soldiers burning with the urge to respond, as insults cut sharply across their pride, they forced themselves to remain composed, as their Commanders absolutely forbade them from engaging in in-fighting.
"Do not engage,"
The Commanders repeated, while soldiers clenched their jaws and walked on, each step heavier than the last as the barbarians’ laughter followed them down the canyon roads.
"The Barbarians on this planet are under Lord Helmuth’s protection.
Nobody is to harm them."
The Commanders reminded, as even the strongest elites were reduced to silence, as their discipline demanded obedience while their instincts screamed for retaliation, creating a tension that thickened the air wherever these two cultures crossed paths.
As more fleets arrived, the encampments expanded outward in layered rings around the Celestial Judgment Platform, while competing banners fluttered side by side in a manner that looked unified from afar yet carried countless rivalries beneath the surface.
By dusk, billions of warriors had gathered, as the camps glowed with faint lights while conversations carried an undercurrent of anticipation, maybe even unease, since every soldier sensed that something far greater than a public execution was unfolding here.
The Pit had never witnessed such a concentrated gathering of military power before, and although the soldiers remained outwardly calm, the planet itself felt as though it had become a pressure chamber filled with pride, hostility, discipline, and expectations that continued to grow with every new arrival.
—---------
(Meanwhile, Helmuth)
Helmuth did not appreciate all the military bustle currently ongoing on his home world, as just like the barbarians living here he much preferred The Pit as a bloody, violent land where strength was proven through cracked bones and split skulls, and not through neatly arranged encampments and colour-coded battalions marching in tidy lines.
However, for the sake of killing Soron, he tolerated it nonetheless.
"I really hope Soron does show up after all I’m going to suffer these next few days, for if he doesn’t, I might just have to kill Mauriss instead...."
He muttered while watching yet another fleet descend through the sulfur-streaked sky, his expression twisting with visible disgust as soldiers formed orderly queues near the volcanic rings, the exact opposite of everything The Pit stood for.
He crossed his arms as he studied the way Mauriss had positioned them all, as though the planet were being turned into a staged battlefield rather than the chaotic hellscape Helmuth preferred, yet even he could not deny that the layout carried a frightening degree of precision.
"Outer rings filled with Master and Grandmaster tiers, inner layers packed with Transcendents, and the core line stationed with Monarch-class elites.... Hmph. The Deceiver has positioned them perfectly to activate the Chakravyuh."
Helmuth grumbled as he narrowed his eyes, realizing that every soldier, every unit, and every Commander had been placed deliberately, their combined aura lines forming an enormous spiraling construct of power that wrapped around the Celestial Judgment Platform like a latent beast waiting to awaken.
"The fools don’t even know they’re standing inside a formation created by Mauriss, it’s like the military stifled their independent thought."
He said while clicking his tongue, as the soldiers continued to shuffle into their assigned sectors without any understanding that they were becoming pieces in a universal-scale military spell.
On a personal level, he found it irritating, this order.... this structure, this attempt to tame The Pit’s wild terrain into a formal execution stage, yet he understood why it was necessary, because if Soron truly appeared here, then only the combined pressure of billions arranged in a perfect formation could suppress him long enough for anyone to land the killing blow.
"Only a few days..... I only need to stay calm for a few days...."
He reminded himself, as he forced himself to remain calm and not lash out.