Dreadlord: Kataklysm, #4

By Theophilus Monroe

Is it possible to defeat a god of the gods?

 

Batara Kala initiated his second Kataklysm.

Can Ashathar survive another Kataklysm while still suffering under the last?

The gods are failing. They're losing their powers.

There's only one being capable of oppressing the gods.

Blaike and Ming Yue faced the destroyer of worlds.

Can they possibly stand against the destroyer of gods?

They are faced with an impossible choice.

Save the world, or save the gods.

Dreadlord is the fourth book in Kataklysm, an action packed epic progression fantasy series. Fans of progression/cultivation epic fantasies, unique magic systems, and immersive epics like Will Wight's Cradle series or Brandon Sanderson's Stormlight Archive where the hero starts weak but gains power over time will also enjoy this expansive saga.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Theophilus Monroe
• Release date: Nov 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223118602

Book preview

PART I

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CHAPTER ONE

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The throne room shook violently, stone and mortar crumbling from the walls. Blaike gripped the arms of his throne, knuckles white. Beside him, Kirana let out a sharp cry as a chunk of the ceiling crashed down inches from her feet.

This is worse than the others, Blaike said through gritted teeth. The entire castle trembled and groaned around them.

Kirana’s eyes were wide, reflecting the dust swirling in the air. Could this be it? The next Kataklysm?

Blaike’s jaw tightened. The ground continued to buck and heave beneath them. It must be. Batara Kala’s final vengeance.

The room tilted sickeningly. Kirana stumbled, and Blaike caught her arm. Outside, screams rose over the rumbling earth.

If the past quakes were any indication, a towering tsunami would soon assault Ashathar’s western shore. Blaike pictured the new fishing village there, Padang Bai. One of the first sprouts of life in the recovering Blight. Vulnerable. Unprepared.

He met Kirana’s gaze, jaw set with resolve. We have to stop it.

Blaike leapt from his throne, pulling Kirana behind him as he sprinted into the hallway. All around them, guards and servants scrambled for safety as the castle shuddered. Blaike flagged down Farrel--his newly appointed general, and the leader of his Radiant legion.

Gather the Radiants! Blaike bellowed over the din. Use your blades and fly out to Padang Bai. Evacuate everyone inland, as far as they can.

Farrel’s eyes widened, realizing the gravity of his mission. How much time did they have before the tsunami made landfall? Aye, Farrel said. We’ll do what we can.

Blaike turned to Kirana. Her face was streaked with dust, but her eyes blazed with determination.

With me, Blaike said. We’ll buy them as much time as we can.

Together they raced through the crumbling halls. The rumbling intensified, stone walls cracking under the strain. They burst out into the courtyard, unsheathed their swords, and took to the skies, their feet fixed firmly to their illuminated blades.

Blaike leaned forward, green flames streaming behind him as his blade shot him into the sky. His light wasn’t born from the sun above—but channeled from Bedawang’s home world, a place illuminated by an emerald sun. Beside him, Kirana blazed with the golden fire of Ashathar’s sun. The land blurred beneath them as they raced west, over the coast, and across the raging sea.

Batara Kala’s death marked the end of the last Kataklysm. The dormant sun revived, and the land responded to its life giving light. The blighted lands now rolled with prairies and fledgling forests. Eager to embrace an illuminated world, the Ashatarians spread through the land, establishing hopeful and thriving villages.

But that wasn’t all that followed the death of the destroyer of worlds. Batara Kala’s defeat triggered a failsafe, a second and different kind of Kataklysm.

According to Trina, the artificial lifeform that once served Batara Kala but was now reprogrammed to aid Blaike, they had three years. That’s how long it would take before the protocols initiated by Batara Kala would flood more than ninety percent of the world.

As terrifying as that was, it wasn’t the gravest threat. Batara Kala’s failsafe also hailed the Dreadlord. The god of the gods, the one who’d conquered the home worlds of Barong, Bedawang, and Antaboga.

How could Blaike both stop a world-ending disaster and thwart an ascended being, more powerful than all of Ashathar’s gods?

Just stopping one or the other was too daunting to fathom. But to thwart both threats and save his world? The odds were not in the young king’s favor.

Then again, Blaike and his friends had overcome the odds before. Who would have thought that a former miner, a young girl who brewed elixirs, a rebel who’d walked the path apart from the authorization of the College of Radiants, a Cintanesian elder, and a young Tensian hunter, could defeat the destroyer of worlds?

Blaike leaned to the side, guiding his blade over the waves, as a towering wall of water barreled toward the shore.

As they approached the massive wave, Blaike’s gut twisted. It was easily five times the height of Ashathar’s tallest towers, a churning mountain of water ready to crash down on the coastline village. He exchanged a worried glance with Kirana. Neither of them were sure they had the power to stop its momentum. But they had to try.

Angling his blade upward, Blaike shot into the air until he was level with the cresting wave. This close, the roar of the wave was like a thousand dragons. He could barely hear himself think, much less communicate effectively with Kirana.

Blaike raised his right hand, careful to maintain his balance on his blade. Bedawang’s power flowed from his fingertips--green light like the emerald sun on Bedawang’s home world. Beside him, Kirana did the same, her eyes blazing like miniature suns. She drew her power from the sun itself.

Now! Blaike yelled.

As one, they unleashed their energies directly into the heart of the wave. Steam exploded outward as the light burned through the water. The wave kept coming. It didn’t matter that they were evaporating the wave. There was too much ocean to draw from. They’d never be able to dry up the entire sea.

They poured more power into their attacks. Blaike risked a glance back toward shore. The fishing village sat directly in the tsunami’s path. They were still far enough from shore that the village looked like little more than an anthill. Had Farrel and the Radiants made it? How many people did they evacuate? They didn’t have much time.

Blaike gritted his teeth, squinting against the steam.

It’s still coming! he called to Kirana. We need to slow it down!

Kirana didn’t respond, too focused on maintaining her sunbeam. Sweat beaded on her brow from the effort.

Blaike shot higher, breaching the top of the steam cloud. The wave loomed below, smaller but still large enough to decimate the coast.

He cursed under his breath. They were almost out of time. If he didn’t do something now, all those people would die.

An idea struck him. It was risky, but they had no other options. He dove back into the steam cloud.

Kirana, on my signal, aim your beam at the base of the wave, he shouted. We can’t stop it but if we can evaporate a part of the wave we might be able to minimize the damage!

Trusting she heard, Blaike angled his blade toward the surface of the sea, where the water churned and curled into the wave. Now!

Kirana redirected her beam. The water flashed to steam. Slowly, the wave’s foundation weakened. With a final massive blast of power, their light collapsed the base. It didn’t stop the tsunami. The wave was still large enough to wipe everyone out. Did it matter how small or large the wave was if the end result was the same? If it left no survivors?

There wasn’t anything else they could do at open sea. I’m heading back to the village. Once the wave hits shore, we might stand a better chance to slow it down!

Blaike wasn’t sure if Kirana heard him. She was still blasting the wave at the base. It didn’t matter. If she stayed with the wave she’d be there when it crashed ashore. This was the best chance they had to save lives.

Blaike raced back toward the shore. The steam cloud billowing over the wave made it impossible to discern its size. Regardless, it was enough to decimate everything in its path.

He spotted Farrel marshaling the last of the villagers away from the village. You have to fly them out of here! Blaike shouted. The village won’t stop the wave!

Aye! Farrel shouted back, before turning and barking out orders to the other Radiants who gathered up villagers, one by one, to fly them to safety. The numbers weren’t in their advantage. At this rate, the best they could hope for was to save half the villagers.

There was no time to lose. Blaike landed and planted his feet, holding his blade out toward the looming wave.

The wave crashed closer. Blaike gritted his teeth and summoned every ounce of power. His blade blazed, green light erupting toward the wave as the coastal waters receded out to sea. All that meant was that the water was gathering into the wave.

The wave was almost upon him now. Blaike’s heart pounded in his chest as he braced himself. His arms shook with the effort of holding his blade steady. He knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.

Blasting the wave wasn’t enough. He stood a better chance against it if he could hit it once it struck shore. When the wave didn’t have the rest of the ocean to draw from.

Blaike expanded his shelldrake armor. A shell, granted him by Bedawang when he ascended. It might not save him from drowning, but it would protect him if the wave blasted him against the buildings and debris.

He widened his stance. Probably a futile effort against the wave’s godly force. But he couldn’t back down. Not yet. Not until he knew everyone was safe.

The tsunami slammed into the coast with an ear-splitting roar. The force of the wave threatened to knock Blaike off his feet, but he stood his ground, drawing on his Radiant strength. The saltwater tugged at his legs, trying to drag him under. He channeled the power of Bedawang, feeding his energy into his sword. The blade blazed with emerald light as he swung it in a wide arc. The water parted before him, carving a path of destruction through the heart of the tsunami. For a moment, it looked as if the wave might break.

But then it reared up, towering over him once more. Blaike gritted his teeth, pouring more power into his sword. He was running on fumes now, his magic reserves depleted. He could feel the strain of the effort wracking his body, threatening to tear him apart. But he couldn’t back down, not now. Not when so many lives were on the line.

Just when he thought he couldn’t sustain it any longer, Kirana crashed down beside him.

I’m going to try something. I don’t know if it’ll work, and it’ll probably hurt like hell.

Blaike nodded in response. They couldn’t keep this up much longer. If his queen had a plan, well, he had to trust she knew what she was doing. There wasn’t time to hear her out or question it.

Kirana raised her blade high, toward the sun. She channeled the heat and energy of the sun itself, a beam of light from the sky, not harnessed by her blade, blasting into the ground in front of the wave. The earth cracked and steamed as it evaporated enough water to spare the village even as the wave continued to crash past on either side.

The tsunami receded and dissipated, leaving an eerie silence behind. Blaike sagged with exhaustion, his arms trembling from effort spent. He smiled weakly at Kirana as she collapsed beside him. They’d done it; they’d saved their people.

For a moment they both stood still, too drained to move or speak. Then slowly but surely cheers resounded from what was left of their village - cheers for them both, for saving their home and sparing them all this tragedy.

Long live King Flare! Long live her Radiance, Queen Kirana!

Blaike released his stance and lowered his blade, chest heaving. The village was spared from total destruction. But he took no joy in this victory. They had only minimized the damage here. Other areas along the coast hadn’t been so lucky.

Farrel approached, relief etched on his face. That was close. For a moment, I feared we’d lose everyone.

Blaike shook his head grimly. We got lucky this time. But luck won’t hold forever. These quakes are getting worse. We can’t be everywhere at once.

He thought of Aelfrid and Ming Yue. They should’ve returned from Barong’s home world by now. They’d been gone nearly a month.

Any word from Yue and Aelfrid? he asked Farrel. Aelfrid was the only one of them with the power to teleport between worlds--a gift from Barong, who’d joined himself to Aelfrid just as Bedawang had united to Blaike. The portal still stood in Sudveil, near the old castle where Blaike had ruled during the Kataklysm. Farrel was supposed to monitor the portal and check in each day. The quake and tsunami, though, had complicated the day’s schedule. They should’ve been back days ago.

Farrel’s expression clouded with concern. Nothing yet.

Blaike stared out at the settling ocean, unease gnawing at his gut. They couldn’t keep playing defense against these endless catastrophes. And if the Dreadlord arrived now, they’d be powerless against him.

CHAPTER TWO

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Ming Yue crouched low in the spiny underbrush, the needle-like leaves pricking at her skin. Strange vegetation unlike anything in her own world. Karong was a fertile world. The people there, mostly slaves who had panther-like features, just like the Ashatharian god, Barong. Some of the people more closely resembled swine—like the now-deceased devil, Rangda.

Karong’s forests grew taller than on Ashathar. Having lived her entire life under a Kataklysm, the tallest trees Yue had ever seen were dead in the blight. She peered through the bushes, scouting out the clearing below. The Dreadlord’s slavers cracked their ethereal whips at a marching line of Karonginians.

The slavers were tall, almost twice the height of a full-grown Ashatharian male. Probably didn’t weigh an ounce more, though. Their true forms were slender, obscured by a violet energy that flowed around them like a shield.

Aelfrid didn’t know any more about the strange magic surrounding these creatures than Yue did. All either of them knew was that when the magic whipped the Karonginians it made them scream. The pain was intense, but it didn’t appear to leave lasting wounds. The perfect weapon for a slaver. All pain. No injury. Motivate the slaves without incapacitating them.

Aelfrid shared a resemblance to the panther-men and women under the Dreadlord’s thrall. A Cintanesian by birth, now that he possessed the godly essence of Barong, dark fur covered his body, his teeth were sharper and longer than before. A subtle blue glow radiated from the tips of his pointed ears. The Karonginian slaves didn’t radiate any light at all. Perhaps they did once, but the Dreadlord’s oppression had snuffed it out. They were being herded like animals, forced to build some kind of monstrous ziggurat. A temple, perhaps, to honor their tormentor. Or maybe it meant to serve another purpose entirely. Whatever it was supposed to be, its erection couldn’t be important enough to merit the abuse of the Karonginian people.

Bile rose in Ming Yue’s throat. She wanted to torch the whole despicable lot of them, to free Barong’s people and watch those wraith-like slavers burn. Yue could embrace Antaboga’s form, shift into the shape of the creator-dragon and blast the lot of them. But she held back. Could her flames even hurt these creatures? Even if it worked, and she scored a quick victory, she’d give herself away to the enemy. If the Dreadlord knew what she could do, what any of the Ashatharian pathwalkers were capable of, they’d lose the only advantage they had. For all anyone knew, the Dreadlord was already on his way to Ashathar. Yue tapped the scales of her left forearm with the claws of her right. A nervous tick. There had to be something they could do.

I should join them, Aelfrid whispered. Let them take me captive. I can learn the Dreadlord’s plans from within.

Ming Yue scowled, grabbing his arm. Was he