The relentless rain pelted down so fiercely that it made one ache, the True Believers had never imagined that one day, they would encounter such a storm.
Violent winds mixed with rainfall tore at the earth, leaves scattered in a sorry whirl, and all around turned to darkness and Chaos, accompanied everywhere by the cracking sound of trees.
Veldor struggled to move forward, he positioned himself in front of an old Believer, involuntarily protecting his Godfather, his other father.
The storm had co so suddenly that the entire Sect was unprepared.
The Priest leading the Sect continually shook a bell, holding aloft a flag in hand, lest the True Believers of the Sect lose each other and stray from their path.
Under these circumstances, once separated, it likely ant death.
The storm grew fiercer, showing no sign of subsiding, carrying sand and leaves that whistled a lethal tune, loudly calling to death.
Panic erupted, and the people of the Sect turned pale, their blood seeming to stop flowing under the grip of fear.
The mbers of the Sect depended on each other, huddled together, struggling to move forward against the formidable storm, desperately seeking a suitable place to take refuge.
As the violent winds swept through, Veldor gradually could no longer hear the old Believer’s gasping breaths, forcing him to turn back several tis to confirm the old Believer was still following, branches and stones thrown by the storm painfully struck him, and as the storm continued to rage, his field of vision shrank further into an area of Chaos.
In the face of this storm, how powerless they were, even huddling together for warmth was just that, warming.
The ferocious storm spread despair like a plague, the entire Sect moved forward driven by survival instincts, not daring to stop for a mont.
There ants in the storm seed to have found a stroke of luck after their ceaseless advancent.
The winds slowly abated, and the sound of trees breaking lessened, for they were moving through the forest, none of them were swept into the sky, Veldor roughly counted heads, realizing not one was missing.
Their lifted hearts settled slightly.
"It’s just a storm, just a storm..."
Veldor turned his head and said to the old Believer:
"There’s nothing but the storm, we will soon make our way through here."
The old Believer was shivering a little from the cold, looking much feebler than before.
The Sect dared not delay, the mbers continued onward, silently praying to the Divine for protection and safety along the way, and indeed, for the next part of the journey, they encountered no more storms, bringing many Dwarves to ease their hearts.
But...
Fate seed to play a cruel joke on them.
Very suddenly, the storm struck again.
And this ti, accompanying it...
A colossal wave, dozens of feet high, rolled furiously toward the sky only to crash down rcilessly.
Before the True Believers could rise in fear, a shout of "Grab onto the trees!" rang out, and in an instant, the deluge descended from the heavens, the great force causing the forest to crackle sharply, the extrely salty seawater instantly flooding over their senses.
As the wave receded, the True Believers were left in a sorry state, even though they had managed to hold onto the trees, several had vanished without a trace in the waves.
"What on earth is this? Why are there waves here?"
Veldor was still in shock, at that critical mont, he and the old Believer had both grabbed onto the sa tree.
The old Believer’s hair was soaked, looking as ghastly as a water ghost,
"I don’t know, I don’t know... nobody knows."
Driven by fear, the Sect could not afford to search for their lost companions, they had to keep moving, or they would all die here.
And then, before one wave had smoothed over, another arose—the solid ground began to shake slightly.
Initially, no one noticed this on, fear drove everyone, all they wanted was to flee this accursed place quickly, but when soone finally cried out in alarm, the ground had already fractured.
"An earthquake! It’s an earthquake!"
Suddenly, the ground began to shake violently, ancient tall trees were instantly obliterated, rocks began to crumble, the earth roared, opening its ferocious maw, and stones tumbled relentlessly from on high.
In this instant, as the earth shook and the heavens seed to collapse, those True Believers on the ground felt their heads spin, in just monts, mountains collapsed, the earth split, beasts cried out in sorrow, and in less than half a minute, most of the Primordial Forest lay in ruins.
Veldor, in the nick of ti, threw himself to the ground with the old Believer, stones flew like arrows, lashing his body, but Veldor kept silent throughout, even drawing closer to the old Believer as if wanting to ensure his safety.
Large rocks smashed down from high above, torrents of mud and stone scouring the ground, as the earth shook relentlessly, the True Believers struggled with all their might, but all inevitably fell, a cacophony of groans filled the air, the disaster ca without warning upon them, the violent earthquake destroyed the distant paths, threatening to take their lives.
"Ah!"
Among the wails, Veldor heard one that was particularly heart-wrenching, making his heartbeat skip.
It was the Sect Priest, the linchpin of the entire Sect.
Veldor instinctively wanted to rise and check, but a massive tree, as if no longer able to hold itself, split from its center in the fury of the wind and plunged downwards.
Veldor had no ti to react, then a sudden pain surged from his right leg to his head, veins bulging, he beca dizzy, feeling hot blood burst forth among the trees, within seconds, he lost consciousness.
Before slipping into unconsciousness,
Despair surged in his soul,
as if... the entire world was collapsing, being destroyed.
When Veldor awoke again, tranquility seed to have temporarily returned to his surroundings.
He opened his eyes groggily and subconsciously tried to move his right leg, but the only thing he felt was a slight pain—beyond that, there was no sensation.
Veldor was jolted awake. He tried to move his right leg, but it completely failed to respond, and a long-absent fear once again swept through his heart, placing a cruel reality before him.
His right leg was now useless.
"Awake, awake, Veldor is awake!"
Just as Veldor was still imrsed in shock, soone noticed his movent and cried out excitedly.
He ca back to his senses and lifted his head with difficulty, looking around to see a scene of utter devastation.
The partially collapsed mountains, the stagnated mudslide, the once lush Primordial Forest had now half collapsed, and everywhere there were ferocious crevices in the earth.
The sight was horrifying.
The True Believers on this pilgrimage bore pale faces and tattered clothes—so were missing, others dead or injured. Nearly half of their sects were gone, and the core of the sects—the Priest—was seriously injured and unconscious.
It was now night, the campfire burned, yet unable to dispel the cold in people’s hearts.
"What in the world..."
Veldor stared in astonishnt at the scene before him, having lost all color in his face, his heart piled high with fear.
No one could have imagined that such terror would accompany this pilgrimage or that death would be their companion; no one could have envisaged that this path would be so challenging.
So challenging that it seed as if God had been rciless from the very beginning.
"Why..."
Veldor’s voice trembled.
He heard it—the sound of a psyche shattering, like pane after pane of glass falling to the ground, shattering even further than if it were rely crushed.
Veldor tried to avoid it all. He wanted to be steadfast, but beneath this shocking scene of ruin, fear was more desperate than despair.
He began to shake uncontrollably, curling up, with his numb right leg refusing to obey. His mind was a blank, filled only with invisible fear as he kept muttering, "Why..."
The uninjured True Believers took care of the injured. Their bodies were so frail in the night, and each face bore the marks of sorrow.
Here, the joy of surviving a catastrophe did not exist.
All around was the silent quietude of despair.
It was as though they had been abandoned by the world, forgotten by God.
An elder Believer saw Veldor and slowly approached him; despite his considerable age, he was relatively unhard.
He silently ca before the wounded man, began to change Veldor’s bandages, and used Ancient Language to alleviate his injuries.
Veldor’s face was etched with fear and despair.
The man asked blankly,
"Why... why..."
The Godfather did not speak; he remained silent, not uttering a word, only unraveling the dirty bandages. Before the grueso flesh could be exposed to the air much, he wrapped it once again with fresh bandages.
The Godfather’s silence—was it because there was nothing to say, or was there no need for words? Veldor didn’t know; he just kept murmuring, why.
Why was this?
Why did we encounter such a disaster?
Why are we in such pain?
Why haven’t we been sheltered, why hasn’t God saved us?
And...
Why is this path so arduous, always so arduous...
Perhaps no one here knew the answer.
Because it wasn’t just Veldor asking why, it seed like everyone was asking why in their hearts.
Weariness and age showed on everyone’s faces, and the uncertainty of the future was frightening.
The earthquake had passed for the ti being, and the storm was temporarily calm, but what about the aftershocks that would follow? What about the storm’s return?
Death had never strayed far from them; as long as they remained in peril for a day, death would not leave for a day.
And no one could escape from peril; the True Believers had lost their way, even their lynchpin had fallen, severely injured.
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