With a force and roar akin to that of an ancient volcano, the spatial tear burst open in an instant, flinging everything within range far away.
With it also came a blast of light so overwhelming that it looked like a second star had manifested on the earth!
Chaos befell the region at that point, as a storm of unbridled force unfolded in all directions—shattering the grounds below and pushing the warlords hundreds of meters from it.
All of what happened boasted more than enough power to kill even the warlords, yet, the only person who appeared unaffected by the chaos was none other than the king himself.
The world seemed to ignore him entirely.
The king looked stunned, seemingly struggling to process what was unfolding. Only a moment ago, he watched his warlords interact in joy and gladness of heart, and now they weren't even in his range of sight?
"Wha-" the king threatened to speak when a series of hands suddenly shot out of the now-widened spatial tear to wrap themselves around his figure, and begin to... Pull?!
The king's eyes widened when he felt his body being moved by those hands even if he resisted them with all his strength.
Those limbs looked like they were made of the starry sky. Their arrival had caused the spatial tear to grow even larger and the light pouring out of it grew in intensity until it could be seen miles away in all directions.
The king had been still all this while, but panic actually seeped into his thoughts and he began to resist harder.
Still, those things were strong, too strong. He also realized he wasn't well equipped to break free. Those arms had bound him but they were in a stalemate.
Eistoriel's lord continued to resist when a group of auras appeared in his range. His attention immediately went to them instead and the sight before him SHOOK HIM.
His warlords were on their way back but the mighty force pouring out of the spatial tear did its best to push them away.
Still, they struggled, and soon all eighteen worked together to pour all their strength into sending one person forward. Ishnal.
Eistoriel's king watched Ishnal's figure fly forward with enough might that his bones actually snapped under the strain. They were already injured, but that feat caused him more damage.
"My Lord!" Ishnal cried, stretching his hand forward. "Please! Take my hand!" His black hair fluttered wildly under the brutal storm, and the sharp winds opened countless injuries on his body. His clothes had nearly disappeared even—torn to shreds.
The king's eyes moved from Ishnal's injuries to his outstretched arm and he did not hesitate to stretch his own right hand forward.
The duo struggled and struggled, and when Ishnal's hand just happened to graze his Lord's, an overwhelming wave of force burst out of the spatial-tear to send him and the others shooting away, riddled with horrible injuries.
"NOO!" The king roared, dissolving his spectacular armor to push all his might into resisting, but something big appeared in his senses and he couldn't help but turn to look into the spatial-tear—ignoring the blinding light from no discernible source.
A massive arm slowy emerged from the tear to wrap its grip around the dazed king.
BAM!
The arm clenched its grip in one swoop, and everything died with it—the lights, the sound, the storm. Everything.
In the blink of an eye and with a swiftness that stood in stark contrast to how it had emerged, the massive spatial arm descended into the tear, pulling the king with it.
Calm returned to the region at that point, but the same could not be said for the king who found himself being pulled down a tunnel made completely out of multicolored lights.
Space folded unnaturally, distorting the concept of here or there, and strange faces formed out of the tunnels walls. Each one attempting to bite at him but never succeeding.
Nevertheless, he continued to struggle, but strength soon left him when those arms accelerated till his eyes could no longer discern anything and his sense of direction lacked any meaning.
He felt forced to shut his eyes for a second, only for everything to change.
Eistoriel's Monarch felt those arms suddenly let go of him as he fell and he didn't take long for him to crash into something.
BOOOM!
With a similar intensity as lightning, he felt his back slam into a hard surface that gave way due to how much momentum he had been falling with.
The sound the ground made when he fell into it had been impossible to mistake. Informing the king that he had indeed touched the ground. But... where?
Some level of normalcy returned to the King's world at that point. He quickly stood, however, uncaring of his nakedness, and began to walk out of the crater his descent had formed.
"Where am I?" He muttered, ascending the deep crater.
A thick cloud of dust and char swirled around him, blinding him and clogging his nostrils. Fortunately, he gave one order to the wind, and a clear path formed directly before him.
"Ishnal!" He called out, scaling the rubble that covered his path. "Erla!" He yelled.
The king continued to name his warlords one-by-one as he ascended the crater, but his heart sank deeper into despair when there was no response.
Instead, he began to discern the sound of heavy footsteps; many of them—in addition to murmurs and wails. All in a language that he could understand.
He came out of the crater but there was still too much dust, the devastation caused by his descent stretched nearly a hundred meters in all directions.
Notwithstanding, a series of figures appeared in his line of sight when he reached the end of the dust-covered area.
Confusion ravaged the kings mind when he noticed how different they were from any of the people he knew, though. And he discerned this by their dressing.
"What is the meaning of this?" He muttered in fury, speeding-up his steps to the people who spoke from that distance, but he didn't bother to listen.
Was the union behind this? They had to be. Even if he couldn't explain how they could have achieved such a feat.
However, that group suddenly chanted a phrase that caused the King to stop dead in his march—eyes widened.
"Welcome O SUMMONED ONE!"
Now that he was closer he could tell they spoke In a tongue not exactly his, but he could understand most of it. As such, what he heard shook him to his core.
Suddenly it all made sense, but that clarity only caused his face to twist in horror.
"What have you done?!"
"We have called you out of your hiding," one of the fourteen men dressed in overflowing gowns, said to him. "Using arcane magic, we have pulled you from your realm, O ancient one."
"By what name shall we address you?" The aged man asked. But he got no response from the King who felt his world spin.
"Have you an inkling of how grave your actions are?" The king whispered, head bowed and aura ominous.
The leader of the strange group frowned, sensing a foreboding future, "We have succeeded in what our fathers failed at. And have summoned one with the bloodlin—"
The man's words were cut short by the King's sharp movement.
By merely raising his head, the King sent a blast of force so powerful that it sent the group flying away. He stretched forth his hand however and the old man flew towards him.
Taking hold of the man's neck, he squeezed, glaring deep into his eyes.
"Have you any idea the deaths your recklessness has caused?!" The king roared with a voice that had stopped sounding human.
He finally grasped in entirety what was happening.
This was no attack.
He had been taken.
His fury took hold of him and his very body began to give off a crimson light, a testament of his desire for blood.
The old man struggled to no avail, kicking and punching, but it yielded nothing. Eventually he managed to voice words.
"R-res-train— Him!" He managed to cry out, gasping for breath.
At first, the king did not understand, but then the cloud of dust suddenly cleared to reveal that a battalion of soldiers had him surrounded in an offensive formation that featured no gaps.
Wherever he looked there was a soldier waiting with their arm stretched forward—ready to unleash an attack.
That sight would have shaken the average person. But the King of Eistoriel was no average man.
"We have s-summoned a d-devil. Quic-kly, bi-bind hi—" the man's orders were abruptly cut short by the sound of his neck snapping.
The king tossed the old man's body away, and instead, prepared to vent his fury on the group of mages around him.