Rem spent hours lurking amid the lightless corridor surrounded by enemies, interfering with Orwell’s master-control. He counted himself lucky Mehest didn’t know about his expertise in mental prowess. He considered himself even more fortunate that he familiarized himself with Orwell’s Amalgam after hours fighting them. [Mental Navigation] required time to comprehend and hacked the target’s head to activate [Mind Break]. Without these specific weaknesses, Rem would instantly one-shot anything with thinking faculties. True Magic was already unbalance — no need to make it worse.
Still, Rem made a mental-note to research an EAPS to overcome such weakness after this crisis. He believed the key was emotion. Brian was hard to breach, but the social animal always had a keen sense of emotion. Rem smiled. Mental attack exploiting arrogance and ignorance would be perfect against the gods.
Rem approached the final lock and tinkered its mechanism with [Interference]. It was surgery on mind and program. The door only allowed Orwell to enter. Rem spent ten minutes building a recurring false signal on a loop. Another fifteen to isolate the door from Orwell’s securities. Then another twenty-five to alter it into recognizing him as Orwell Mehest.
Finally, Rem stepped past the purple barrier designed to render an invader into piles of flesh. Orwell’s crystal suspended inside an isolated space-formation — a man-size giver of Rem’s various headaches. Interesting. The prick duct-taped space isolation spell-craft to stop another attack from [Tir Na Soal]. Rem started hacking the barrier, prying enough opening for a package, and faking all the magical sensors through the Amalgam’s hive-mind.
Rem checked his watches 1 hours and 55 minutes until the deadline. Rem briefly cursed the stupidly huge number of a barrier delaying him for hours. The boy wasted no further time to start the C4’s timer and left Horizon Dawn’s home-made explosive — courtesy of Melody and Hikma — beside the crystal.
Rem hightailed himself out of the blast-range like his immortal soul depended on it.
…
1 hour until the deadline.
Chamomile trekked across the ruin of the Earth-quarters. Her confrontation with Samadi left her aimless in a fog for an entire week. The Vice-Captain fumbled across the floor, feeling both dread and relief that her torture would hit its conclusion in mere moments.
The city was a mess. The Fire-quarters were unrecognizable rubbles. Grand Empire’s Permanence Keep — the military complex that once controlled the Empire’s majestic army — was now a barely recognizable mound of rocks. The many Crystal High-rises — landmarks of Water-quarter and its high-end stores and banks — reduced to a pit of burnt glass. All seven Magnolial research towers of the empire rendered into a graveyard. Shamble Tents dotted the charred shops and house in the broken Earth-quarter. Only Wind-quarter still bare a semblance of civilization.
Chamomile glanced at the eldritch moon, begging for these haunting celestial objects to smite her.
Unbeknownst to her, a humongous hulking mass stalked her steps, eyeing the woman with a program written to kill by its master. A final condemnation from a man who treated her existence with repulsion.
Victim may hate the tormentor, but the heaps of the hate inevitably directed toward the individual enabling said demand.
…
45 minutes until the deadline
Melody and Luxinna stood from the roof-top at the location Orwell failed to hide from Rem’s prying eyes.
It was the pit created by Wayward after he annihilated the royal-mages. The keystone to Orwell’s ambition laid beneath the glassy crater representing the Empire’s most pointless defeat. The elf and demon silently agreed Orwell loved being poetic.
“He know we are here,” Luxinna drew [Historia].
“Yep,” Melody cracked her knuckles and waved. “Invisible spying Amalgam is obvious.”
…
Mehest’s eyebrows twitched dangerously from the demoness greeting.
How did these people read his moves like a book? Even the Holy church wasn’t this accurate. Did Samadi have an S-rank [Clairvoyance] or something? Orwell sighed. With his preparation being intercepted to such degrees, the probability of a peaceful curb-stomp wasn’t possible anymore
Orwell let Princess Velnia out of her cell. He couldn’t afford distractions with Samadi’s net arriving this close.
…
40 minutes until the deadline.
A girl silently sneaked into the Water-quarter. An enchanted cape projecting an illusion rendering her invisible to most forms of detection magic fluttered, subtly revealing the crimson armor-set beneath. Her black-hair and fox’s ears blew in the wind as landed on a smoldering wreckage within sight to Orwell Mehest’s headquarter.
She spent three-days drafting her gear for the moment of vengeance. She held nothing back in this rematch. Every piece of her gears was a high-end custom design piece for Enma’s clan personal usage.
The only she needed was the target.
Shyme Enma crept closer. She must take Orwell Mehest out in one shot.
…
25 minutes
“Lord Mehest…” Princess Velnia and her entourage seemed confuse.
“Screw you, Mehest?” The bruised and battered Mercia stared dagger at Orwell. “You trick the Princess and throw her out when it suits yourself! I can’t believe how much we misjudge you!”
“Mercia, be quiet please,” Albert Starlight whispered, clearly afraid. “Our lives hang on a thread here.”
Behind him, the rest of Starland’s knight entourage covered in fear.
Mercia ignored them and focused on venting at her target.
“You are an asshole who betrayed a city of innocent people for a fucking grudge from god damn generation ago! Do you understand limit? You can always talk about this on an international stage, instead of opting for mass-murdering millions!”
Princess Velnia watched her best friend twisted into an ugly mask of hatred.
Orwell chuckled. The idiocy was unbelievable.
“International stage manages by who? The Seven Continental Alliance? The gods? Well, if I’m doomed between toothless and apathy, I might as well take justice to my hand,” Orwell’s eyes hardened. “You among all don’t have a right to lecture to me. Starland is a wreck of mismanagement, plaything in a palm of a worst megalomaniac than me — a mass murderer with 3 million body-counts. I don’t see you complain about LinLey Tianshang’s political purge, so I suggest you stop pretending to have a standard when it is my turn.”
“That is different!”
“Point taken, LinLey killed people through a proper channel,” Orwell dryly mocked Mercia. “Guess it fine to execute innocent folks as long as you submit a form. Let ignore me and LinLey. What about your sin? I still recall your guards beating up a kid some months ago by the alley.”
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Mercia’s eyebrows twitched.
“What are you talking about, Lord Mehest?” Starling shifted curiously.
“Hah, I believe I saw those men ganging up on a kid,” Orwell gestured toward the sweating blurry knights. “I was arranging something in Earth-quarter when I caught sight of the beating — must be an Elyptian given his tan skin. Quite a common occurrence in the crap-sack plane, but I remember that guy particularly well. It take absurd kind of nobility not strike back.”
Velnia slowly turned to the shifting Mercia and the knights. Never in a million years did they expect karma to kick in the crotch. Albert Starlight grimaced. Now he understood why that boy disappeared. Those idiots’ tunnel vision and malicious arrogance got the better of them. They shielded the Princess from that useless kid’s disappearance using the mixture of lies, diversion and romantic moonlight meeting with Orwell Mehest for a month until now. Given more times, the memory of Hikma De Darwin would fade to distant memory.
But karma’s sadism was epic.
“He could retaliate. I saw the temptation in his eyes, but he tossed the sword away because you aren’t worth dirtying his hands. That boy is a perfect statement on necessity of power. His powerlessness only beget suffering. His failure to fight back only rewards disgrace. As long as the gap names power exist, conflict is inevitable. You prove that yourself.”
Orwell capped the message to the heartbroken Princess.
“You are a good person, Velnia. Sadly, you have a company of scumbags. That is the nature of reality. People are horrible creatures stashing closet of garbages behind veneers of civility. I can’t return your feeling. Our goal are too different.”
Princess Velnia’s eyes teared up.
“Lord Mehest, is power more important than me?”
Mehest chuckled humorlessly.
“Velnia, do you think your grandfather will tolerate any powerless human wedding the Princes of Starland? I don’t want to choose ‘power’ but answering otherwise would be unrealistic.”
The Princess of Starland stood like solid stone, petrified by the shock of her first heartbreak. Meanwhile, Orwell prepared himself for the attacker hiding for a surprise attack.
…
20 minutes
The Venistalis’ resistance camped by the wall of the Earth-quarter in grim silence. They nervously continued the thousand-yard stare of utter hopelessness at the army waiting to annihilate their flimsy numbers. Aleksei Martynov and his squad of merry men cocked their rifle. The battle formation Horizon Dawn selected was simple. The more durable member of the resistance takes the frontline with heavy blast-shield, the rest settled with an assortment of firearms and spell. A much more powerful mages spread on the wall to shore the defense.
The army of thousand gulped. The sea of Amalgams covered the ruin like an entire ant-hill over the sugar cube. Some tower above the ruins, while more patrolled the skies — a perfect machine of several ten-thousand strong A-rank monsters and suicide mobs. The defender gulped. Tension threatened to drown the fighters where they stood. Every minute convinced them this was a suicide mission, but anyone with second doubt already quitted or positioned themselves far back. Only faith in the one-arm man leading the frontline held the resistance’s flimsy morale left.
Vice-Captain Kruger twirled his spear. His arm may be missing, but he preferred to die before he failed again.
…
15 minutes
Andries watched the development in a roof-top several girls and nobles was with her as they gazed across the ruin of Venistalis. Thanks to Horizon Dawn’s intervention, the displaced nobility reached safe heaven. Although many nobles fled to any shadow of safety remain within the ruin of the capital city, some remained to witness the conclusion.
Adventurer guild in Earth-quarters gathered all its remaining members to defend its border. The local Holy Church’s branch — in a rare act of charity — opened its door for the refuge. One commonality from those seeking shelter remained — despair. Aside from those who answered Dream’s call, the city didn’t dare to believe in its survival. It was a common story in Phantasia with World Enemy attacks wiping cities of the face of the maps, inter-clan massacres to the last babies, and the gods’ eccentric demand barely mitigate through careful persuasion of the Seven Continental Alliance.
The Grand Empire lived under an illusion that safety still held in its border. Phantasia — even the major city as Balperia — lived beneath perpetually recurring fear of instability. For them, smiles were a temporary mask for the dread waiting to unleash on a timer. One fist from reality and those hopeful illusions of happiness crumbled away.
But Andries Sellovett wanted to believe that today would be different. She held the shimmering line of faith the knight with nothing to his name would end the tragedy and repelled the eldritch moon.
“Do you think Onee-sama will succeed?” Eliza the doubtful stared in the horizon.
“No idea,” Andries replied melancholically. “But I want to believe.”
…
10 minutes
A light-beam penetrated the Earth as Rem heaved his way back to the surface. He staggered out of the hole before removing his mask and oxygen re-breather, taking in a breath of fresh air. Under that eldritch moon, Rem took out his watch and checked the time.
He slipped a flare from his bag pack.
…
5 minutes
Hikma walked down the main street, coming face-to-face with an army of Amalgam lining the perimeter of Water-quarter. No need to pretend. Orwell already calculated their arrival. The boy wearing the trench-coat blaring the symbol of Horizon Dawn on its back stared at the monster past his helmet-visor. The Amalgam returned his attention, preparing to attack the moment the timing close.
Melody and Luxinna must take down the final crystal before he fights Orwell. It was only gentlemanly for him to help even the odds between Venistalis and Orwell’s army.
Hikma flicked his walking stick and charged his [Aegis].
The Amalgam War-machine opened their front jaw to reveal a gaping maul charging with energy.
…
0 minute
Inside the lightless catacomb, a certain electronic timer hit zero. The parcel containing a version of [Burning Asura] primed with [Serene Glass] and [Burn the Witch] detonated in a fiery blossom. The fire-storm detonated inside the sealed space, causing its destructive ability to triple inside the seal environment. Unable to withstand extreme heat and pressure, Orwell’s Spiritium crystal pinning his grasp to the Leyline shattered.
The wildfire expelled outward, burning enchantment as fuel as it swallowed the catacomb and Amalgam in a purifying fire.
The destruction of his life lines were the least of Orwell’s worries.
…
At the Earth-quarters’ front lines, miracle landed. The Venistalis’ resistance watched in amazement as the Amalgam turned toward each other at the night of their promise showdown and performed an act no one expected.
They began attacking themselves.
Amalgams of various shaped and size turned their blade on each other. Death-knights clashed against War-machine. Countless animalistic Amalgam banded up to attack a blood golem. Death-knights exploded from the inside from Spiritium insects’ suicide-bombing inside their body. Squad of fiery griffon swooped down from up high pickup dozens of skeletons and pulled them apart by the limbs. A massive blood creature armored with Spiritium fell to itsy pieces from a suicidal griffon dive-bombing attack, crushing several War-machines and skeletons beneath its weight. One particularly brace skeleton attacked the offending corpse only for a vicious breed of ghostly hound to reduce it into chew toy.
The defender watched in awe as the mighty army wounding their fist to smack apart their living daylight abruptly turned on itself. The swarms of 100,000 congregate on itself on a no hold bar beat-down of epic proportion.
“What the fuck?” One volunteer adventurer guffawed.
“How? Who? When?” A female resistance member aired the question.
“Don’t ask me? Do you honestly believe I have a clue!” Answered a red-head.
Then it happened. A flare of light arced into the eldritch sky and ignited, releasing traces of light, drawing the familiar symbol of a man embracing the sun.
Aleksei Martynov grinned.
“That kid did it.”
Seeing hope ignited, Kruger gave his order.
“Long range magician, hold your fire. Remember, we couldn’t attack until the second symbol shone!”
…
Rem withdrew the flare-gun and smiled quietly to himself.
The logic bomb he planted inside the hive-mind switched the perception of an enemy target on trigger. With Orwell’s army turned on itself, Orwell’s 5th crystal would finally emerge from hiding.
Now, he had a business. An octopus wearing sleeping mask emerged from Rem’s backpack.
“Za Wa, is the skill-formatting finish yet?”
Za Wa showed Rem the thumb-drive and swallowed it.
“Good boy, now to the Royal Palace’s forbidden library.”
Rem never planned to ask for reward or recognition, but not sizing an opportunity of copying undefended knowledge was just plain stupid. Plus, an extra hundred books would win him more brownie point with Hikma.
…
Orwell sagged to his knee, much to the surprise and horror of the Velnia’s entourage.
“What is happening, Lord Mehest,” Velnia asked, clearly didn’t a proper feeling for this development.
“Nothing to worry about,” Orwell feigned a smile. “Just an unexpected complication.”
Orwell understood situation had spun from his expectation. His numbers were eliminating itself at a tremendous rate. Cursed the bastard Samadi. He needed to reboot his hive-mind and installed a new firewall. Mehest gritted his teeth. This war was an exchange of victory and defeat, but his biggest consecutive losing streak came in term of information warfare. Where did that guy learned how to manipulate and gathered information? Just which planet was that good?
Orwell felt another presence in the worst place possible.
No way. How? Why won’t that maniac stay dead. Shit! At this rate he would lose the Trimegal.
Then he saw a spear of fire — connected to piss off Shyme Enma — slamming toward his face at the speed of sound.
“Fuck.”
The firework was brilliant.
…
The charred pit of Water-quarter trembled as a humongous entity punched itself from the surface of black glass.
“Yep, the final crystal is here,” Luxinna raised her sword in a defensive stance.
“I am more interested in how Orwell build this monster under a week,” flames swirled around Melody.
Emerging with clouds of dust and falling rock was a serpentine mouth that with a screamed.
“WWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRD!!”
Trimegal — a masterpiece of Orwell Mehest — emerged from the blackened ground with a familiar personality in its pilot seat.