The Sorcerer had taken pains to hide the movements of the vast armies, using magic to make them look much smaller and to give the impression of fake skirmishes.
As the armies poured into the citadel and the sorcerer and his acolytes finished the protective spells, wards, and traps designed to slow the gods down, the gods were still ignorant of the Sorcerer’s plans.
He paused at that point, taking an hour to prepare himself for what was to come. He even wrestled with doubts, wondering if what he did was truly for the best. Millions would die even if he was successful. Was it worth the cost?
Then he reminded himself just how the gods treated people. Their mortal origins wouldn't have mattered if they treated people with some respect and understanding, but they didn’t. To the gods peo
