The Mortal Realms were thrown into complete chaos. The appearance of so many Invalids after such a long dormancy caught almost them all off guard...
With the exception of a few.
The Human Bubble. The Ma'at Bubble. And a certain Dwarven Bubble.
By extension, the Bubble of the Moonstones were also alerted. It wasn't exactly what Leonel wanted, but there were also some objective sacrifices he had to make if he truly wanted to align with the Spirituals.
In the end, all four Bubbles were protected by formations the moment they received Leonel's signal, wasting away their generations of Dream Pavilion points for this single moment, and precisely because they knew that there wasn't another choice to be made.
However, that didn't stop them from feeling shock and awe about the accuracy of Leonel's prediction. In the end, things had really ended up like this.
...
Lady Emberheart looked out, a solemn air pinched between her furrowed brows. Her husband was by her side, wearing a very similar expression. They could feel the bombardment of the formation that covered their world, and it left them feeling suffocated.
At this rate, the formation would only hold up for a few more months at most. In fact, they'd be lucky to get more than two.
There were simply too many Invalids, and they were led by exceptionally powerful Variant Invalids that struck fear into their own hearts as well.
If even a single one of those Variant Invalids made their way in, they'd have no choice but to call out the Ancestors.
But the issue was that even if they did so, they had no guarantee of winning. Even from so far away, they could sense the strength of these Invalids clearly.
Leonel said that everything would be resolved before it came to that, but they had a hard time believing it...
How could such a thing be resolved by a single young man?
Although Leonel had shared a method for the Spirituals to break free of their shackles with them, it had only been a few weeks since then. It was impossible to change their fate so quickly.
So, as of now, they could only stand helplessly. Hoping that Leonel's predictive skills were just as good as they had proven themselves to be until now.
...
Spector and Avlauren of the Dwarven Race stood with impressions that were just as solemn as the Emberheart couple. The Dwarven Race had hidden for so long, but they had never expected to suddenly stumble into such a problem.
At that moment, a valiant little Pixie walked in with a stormy momentum. The wind around her rampaged, thrumming with a contradictorily life-filled, violent aura.
She was as beautiful as a fairy, and looked quite like one as well, her wings flapping delicately as she walked through the air like it was flat ground.
She wasn't even five feet tall, and yet her aura seemed much larger than that, especially when one glanced at the halberd in her small palms.
It looked ridiculous in her hands. The halberd was over eight feet long, nearly double her height. And yet, while one's eyes told them one thing, their hearts spoke different words.
It was as though this young woman couldn't possibly wield any other weapon in this world. The halberd was made for her, and she for the halberd.
Spector and Lumielle were taken aback by the sudden appearance of their granddaughter. When they sensed her murderous aura, they looked at one another and smiled bitterly.
They opened their minds to explain when their expressions changed.
Creation State.
She had actually succeeded. An Eighth Dimensional existence with a Creation State Force. Just what sort of concept was this?
Maybe it would have been acceptable if she was a Demi-God genius, but she wasn't. She was born to the weakest of the Mortal Races aside from the Human Race themselves. And even then, the Dwarven Race had by far the weakest history of the Races. At the very least, the Humans had once been monsters feared by even some Gods.
What Lumielle had accomplished was unprecedented, and they could only smile even more bitterly.
Wasn't all of this because of Leonel? If not for the Forgetful Orb, it would have taken Lumielle several more decades to reach this stage, if not centuries.
But now she was pissed off.
Because of their surprise, the old couple didn't get a chance to explain before their granddaughter spoke first.
"Why are we just standing here like caged rats? Open up the formation! Let me out!"
Her body was small, but both her tone and volume were enormous. She looked like she was ready to cleave everything in her path.
Seeing this, the old couple exhaled, feeling much better. They thought that she was about to blow her top about Aerin, but it seemed she either didn't know yet, or had found something else to be mad about.
"We cannot. They are too powerful. Just sit here and wait." Spector said sternly.
"Ridiculous!" Lumielle seemed to grow more enraged when she heard this.
"Calm down, Lumielle. Let us explain."
The Pixie's chest heaved, but eventually, she listened. Inwardly, she wanted to charge out already. She was tired of the Dwarven Race always taking the passive position.
"This is necessary. Not only are they too powerful, but there's a plan in place." They began to explain patiently.
"What kind of plan requires the Invalids to overrun our world?!"
The two smiled bitterly once again. Maybe they had truly spoiled their granddaughter too much, but it was hard not to. She was such a talent, and she was equally as hardworking. Or in this environment, she would have never made it so far, Forgetful Orb or not.
"Give us some time to explain," Avlauren said a bit bitterly. "Trust us, there's a good reason for all of this."
Lumielle eventually calmed enough to listen, and as she listened, her understanding deepened... but she soon had a solemn expression just like her grandparents did.
Was this really possible?