"Very good." Pythus complemented the Wither, "Perhaps we will use your star on another day." He took the Nether Star and walked to the beacon. Putting the Star inside, the beacon came to life.
"Ready the troops." He instructed the Angel as soon as he had finished Ingressus' message. "We move out immediately."
The wither skeletons, armed to the teeth, assembled in the plaza. One battalion at a time, they started beaming to the other cities of Ardonia.
Life was going on as usual in Oakendale. Since it was near evening, shops were getting ready to close for the day. The farmers yawned and started home after a long day of labor. The guards at the plaza also began tidying up the day's work, sorting through all the papers and logging all the transactions for that day.
Then, on its own accord, the beacon came to life. People frowned. Normally at this time, the whole of Ardonia paused beacon travel. Is there something urgent?
"Send for the mayor, tell him we have an emergency at the beacon!" The Head Guard shouted.
Silhouettes began emerging from the light. But they were not human. Instead, the people of Oakendale were repulsed by the sight of pitch-black skeletons, holding swords and brandishing knives, marching towards them.
"Stop! State your busi…" a guard readied his shield and spear, but was immediately shot by an arrow. Another guard lanced his weapon at the onslaught, dismantling a skeleton. No sooner had the spear hit the ground, than the pile of black bones started putting itself together. First the ribs found each other, then the hands reached the body, and placed itself on the legs. Finally, it picked up the skull and placed it upon the neck.
"Go! Evacu…" Another guard was stabbed in the chest, their armor no use against the Netheran weapons.
One by one, the skeleton army butchered the city's guards. They invaded the mayor's house, slaughtering their family. They set fire to the kingdoms' flags on the plaza, and raised, on the highest pole, the orange skull head flag of the Nether.
Pythus mounted the stairs to the throne room in Crown Peak. Tracing the fresh cracks in the marble floor, he found Ingressus perched on the throne, wiping his sword with a green Song.
"Move aside Ingressus." The Nether king ordered. "The throne is mine."
"I have delivered on my promise." Ingressus stood up and placed his sword on his back. "I only ask that you honor yours." He walked down the steps.
"You're right." Pythus strode towards him, pounding his axe on the ground. "Both the Nether and Overworld are mine to control, as planned. However," He stopped in front of Ingressus. "disappointing news has reached my ears that Enderknights have returned, even after you assured me they had 'vanished.'" He pushed Ingressus aside with his axe. "I need the Ender realm as well now, then perhaps I can help you with your Prime Songs."
"Very well." The Deathsinger said through gritted teeth. Pythus placed himself solidly on the throne.