While the Toad God and Josh Aratat clashed in a battle of titans inside the burning core of the laboratory, the rest of the Ruma swamp base had descended into complete and glorious mayhem.
Outside, it was war.
Masked initiates screamed, guards roared, fire erupted from magical runes that detonated upon impact with stone walls, and through it all—Lola and the generals cut a path of vengeance.
The storm had begun.
They moved like wolves among sheep, their weapons singing hymns of violence.
All around them, chaos reigned. The 50 clueless initiates who'd joined Lola and the group of generals— under the belief that they were fighting "the injustice of overpriced potions" had now formed a small army—though they didn't know they'd become foot soldiers in Josh Aratat's operation.
They didn't know that the generals' mission was normally to release the children, they thought these individuals that seemed familiar with each other were just enjoying the chaos and wanted to defy the toad god, so they agreed to help as well.
This provided a lot of help for Lola and the other generals who didn't have to fight alone, they had about 50 others who joined them and together, they started to cut down the other initiates, the guards and other members of the toad god's cult.
Lola didn't waste the moment.
"Free the children!" she shouted, her baritone voice booming like a war horn through the riot.
Her command was obeyed.
Unwittingly, the recruits helped rouse the unconscious children. One by one, the little ones began to awaken—dazed, frightened, but alive. The other initiates—some out of guilt, others out of spite for the Toad God—began carrying them to safety, whilst tearing off their golden cult masks in open rebellion.
To the cult loyalists, this was betrayal.
To the generals, this was momentum.
Lola's eyes darted through the chaos, scanning every corridor and shadowy archway. The children brought for that day's ritual—fresh sacrifices for the Toad God's potion—had already been awakened. With the help of the clueless but furious initiates, she and the generals had managed to free them, turning their release into an open act of rebellion.
But it wasn't enough.
There were still others.
Children who had been imprisoned longer—the reserves, held like cattle for future slaughter, stored in darkness somewhere deeper in the compound.
Stock. For potions.
Lola's jaw clenched at the thought.
"We've freed the offerings," she muttered, eyes narrowing, "now let's free the stock."
She moved like a storm on the hunt, her whip coiled at her side and her senses sharpened. Somewhere in this twisted maze of swamp-brick walls and cursed chambers, innocent lives were still waiting—unaware that today was the day their fate would change.
Or burn.
------------------
Lola and Ralia Amia soon found themselves rushing toward the southern corner of the Ruma base—a shadowy edge where the screams and cries of the imprisoned could still be heard through mossy stone.
There it was.
An iron-reinforced gate, guarded by five masked cultists who looked like they hadn't moved in hours. Arrogance radiated from them. That same overconfidence Xerm had instilled—the blind belief that nothing could touch them in their holy sanctuary.
These imprisoned humans were of different ages, sexes and skin color.
Lola rushed towards the guards who were caught off guard, obviously not expecting such a drastic attacking momentum...
Big surprise...
So when Lola appeared, it was like an electric shock that was sent through their bodies.
Lola didn't bother with pleasantries.
She flew forward—a blur of speed and anger—her high-rank Earth-level whip coiled with deadly grace.
Before they could react, Lola had thrown out her Earth level, high rank whip and flung it around the neck of the first guard.
SNAP!
The whip cracked through the air like thunder, wrapping tightly around the first guard's neck. He barely had time to blink, let alone scream.
Then came the pull.
The sickening crunch of vertebrae followed.
He dropped like a sack of wet flour—his mask shattered, his eyes still wide in disbelief.
The four remaining guards snapped to attention, suddenly yanked out of their delusion. This was real and this intruder came with only one goal and that is— to kill
"One of them, visibly older and slightly more decorated, stepped forward, wand in hand.
"Golden Light—Insects of Death!" he shouted, thrusting his arm into the air.
The air hissed.
A cloud of golden, shimmering insects burst forth—buzzing with lethal hunger. They weren't illusions. They were spells with teeth. Magic with mandibles.
Each one, if it touched flesh, would consume it within seconds—devouring meat, skin, even bone.
He chanted... using the same golden light magic that the Toad god had mastered. The only difference is that the toad god only taught each of them—his followers— one magic from the golden light magical tome.
He did this to remain superior, as he learnt almost about 400,000 spells, while his followers learnt just one or two, and on a day like this, the disadvantage of that decision was revealed, especially against strong opponents like Josh Aratat and his generals.
The flying insects were powerful though...
And as the insects flew close, Lola knew she had to do something to prevent herself from being harmed.
She twisted—a movement so inhumanly fluid it looked like her spine was made of silk threads. The insects missed her by mere inches, their shrill shrieks splitting the air.
Then Ralia Amia acted.
She pulled out her weapon: a crimson-glowing orb, known as the Orb of Memories. One of the rarest empathic weapons in the realm, it pulsed with psychic emotion.
With a flick of her wrist, she released waves of emotional instability directly into the swarm's spell matrix.
The insects faltered mid-air.
Confused.
Disoriented.
Then, they turned.
The entire swarm—now intoxicated by fractured memory and borrowed fear—redirected in a perfect U-turn and attacked their caster.
The guard blinked once, then watched in horror as his own spell descended on him like a nightmare made flesh.
"N–No, wai—"
Too late.
Just as the guard was about to rejoice, he saw his spell self imploding. Lola didn't give him the time to breathe, she used her whip to curl around his neck, and detached it like one would open a corked wine bottle.
The three remaining guards now stood frozen—somewhere between disbelief and full-blown panic.
Lola didn't waste the distraction.
She cracked her whip again, lashing it around the next man's waist, then pulled.
POP!
His spine snapped audibly. His body flipped in the air before collapsing, convulsing once, then falling still.
They were now down to two...
Their entire belief system—everything they'd been trained to fearlessly uphold—was now on fire. Three of their strongest had died within seconds, and the enemy wore initiate robes.
> "Who ARE these people?"
One of them—a shorter, timid one with trembling hands—stepped forward, his voice cracking under his mask.
"Aren't you... here for the potion? Why are you attacking us?!"
He sounded genuinely confused. Like someone who wandered into the wrong script.
Lola turned toward him slowly.
If only he knew.
If only he knew that behind the baritone-modified voice was a woman deadlier than most war generals. If only he could see the sharp grin behind her mask, the one she reserved for fools, he would slap himself silly.
She took one step closer.
Then she said, in a low, dangerous tone:
"I'm not here for the potion.
I'm here to bury your god."