General Atlanta and Phillip stepped upon a fertile soil.

Finally, their destination was within reach.

Flanked by rows of trees, serene whistling of the sea breeze rustled through the leaves. Hight wall of white-vines and magic stretching as high as any medieval city wall surrounded the sea view. Phillip wasn’t a student of mysteries, but the expression of the mages in the company was one of disbelief. He instinctively knew those walls weren’t for show.

“Enchantments embed into the wood?” one mage guffawed. “No, it is more than that. It is like the wood was innately magical.” The mages traced his finger across the wall, feeling its texture. “It is alive! This is a living enchanted tree shaped grown like a wall. I didn’t feel wood magic, but this Mana is unlike any plant I know.”

He turned toward the mysterious man holding the unconscious Promtus by his shoulder.

“How did you accomplish such fine-degree over life? This is a magical breakthrough unlike any other.”

Hikma laughed, “Better ask my friend. It took her several weeks of research to complete this fortification.”

Hikma wasn’t downplaying the Cytortia’s accomplishment. It took the former goddess several all-nighters of experimentation to create the desired Alchemical serum to properly treated the sample seed. Cytortia extracted the essence of several magical plants, separated and categorized the component she needed ranging from essence that accelerated the plant growth, some which imbued the wood with innate magical compatibility and toughness, other which granted resistance to the element and some that even provided passive soothing effect.

But that arduous categorization process was the easy part. She needed to mix those fluid together to find the right ratio that would best graft with the base plant. The goddess had to build manual to programme enchantment into life, forcing her to research how to artificially engineered essence from the ground up. It took weeks of hard work with massive contribution from literally everyone in the dawn to complete Cytortia’s latest creation. It was the evolution which incorporated her [Paradiso of Never-ending Boundary] into its defense.

[Benevolence Scripture: Eternal Living Paradiso]

It was a combination of tree types of symbiotic vines stack together. Once unleashed, these vines interwoven around each other to create a Kevlar-like structure from the three types of vines enchanted with a different version of [Paradiso] founded in the original [Never-ending Boundary]—interference against time-space tampering, resistance against physical trauma, and warding against elemental and magical force. Cytortia even upgraded from her original defense by increasing the wood overall toughness, its shock-absorption ability and even granted it flame retardation property.

The wall being made of living wood also synergized with [Tir Na Soal], [Bio Empathy] and [Benevolence Core].

This sophisticated research wall was the main pillar of Rem’s confidence in his endgame. Only the King of the gods or above such as Ra and Zeus — and maybe Thor — possessed the raw output to destroy this fortification, with Cytortia manning the defenses. Your ho-hum S-ranker like Scathach and Promtus, and even the like of Artemis and can just sit outside and glared at Cytortia’s fortress.

Would it surprise you that Cytortia kept several of these seeds on her person? Of course not, Rem might be a Superman fan, but he knew how to play Batman if he must. It was the lesson he shared with Cytortia.

However, Rem wasn’t in a state to talk to anyone.

…

Luxinna and Hikma opened the door to witness the unbelievable.

Rem was basically moping over the map of Centuria. He looked depressed like he found out his pet just die. Meanwhile, Cytortia was beside him, trying to cheer him up.

“Come on, it is not so bad,” Cytortia pleaded.

“It is that bad,” Rem looked like he was about to cry. “Those fuckers cannot do this again. I already live through those train wrecks too many times.”

“Look on the bright side. There always another chance!”

“And with every chance it got worse and worst.”

Luxinna and Hikma looked at each other.

“Holy shit,” Luxinna whispered. “We are so screwed. If even Rem give-up…”

“Don’t,” Hikma didn’t want to know what made the man who stare down killer AI, murderers and made plans to conquer the gods emitted such overwhelming misery. “You are scaring me.”

Both the elf and the archeologist glanced at each other, nodded, and marched to face the bad news.

“Guys,” Hikma spoke. “What happen?”

Cytortia took a moment to absorb reality, “This is so stupid.”

“It isn’t,” Rem muttered. “It went beyond stupid and crossover to travesty. I believe the blaspheme line got crossed at some point, but I cannot take another L.”

“Okay, what happen? Did Acrisius drag Zeus and Ra to help him?”

“No, it worst, Warner Brothers is about reboot Superman movie again,” Rem revealed the catastrophe in the making. “This time with Director Dumb and Dumber manning the helm.”

“Kay,” Luxinna felt like someone just dump her hype into arctic water. “Who Is Dumb and Dumber?”

“I want to ask that too?”

“David Benioff and DB Weiss,” Rem growled.

“Oh,” Hikma recalled the name. “The two blokes who made Games of Throne. They aren’t that bad. Okay, season 8 is disappointing. But dude, you are about to get another Superman movie! You are one of his biggest fan!”

Rem crumpled the can from raw outrage, “Hikma, mate, names one good Superman story in this last decade.”

Hikma couldn’t.

“Exactly. Hikma, ever since overblown, overrated piece of crap called Injustice arrived. Hell, I would even say when the Dark Knight Return created this Batman infested earth. Okay, maybe not. The Dark Knight Master Race actually mends that bridge for me. But at some point, in our lifetime, the entire planet suddenly goes Lex Luthor. The modern writer doesn’t get Superman, ergo. Sure, sometimes we got a good animated movie like Superman Vs the Elite or Superman: Man of Tomorrow. But aside from the first Superman movie, everything else cranked out by the tinsel town is a travesty. Some of them are inoffensive like Superman Return, and some like BvS are hot garbage conceptualized by the man whose get off on Watchmen.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“I have a feeling the conversation just fall past me,” Luxinna observed Rem’s rage. “Should I go watch this BvS?”

““No!”” Rem and Hikma cried to save the elf from modern Hollywood.

“Both of you?” Cytortia said, stunned. “It is that bad.”

“It is infamously bad,” Hikma recalled the time he watched the movie during his stayed with his relatives in France.

“And BvS is nothing to compare to the modern pussy-politic obsess, far-left infest, arm-chair activist employs in the mother-fucking New York and California! The comic sale is not for show. And those turds are so obsessed with keeping the status quo and perpetual rebooting that the entire medium met its deserved death by the hand of Manga. Now the freaking Pedowood led by two hacks whose only talent is adapting a book is a about a whack at my most sacred childhood memory. I am so fucking done with it.”

“Dudes, Games of Thrones aren’t that bad.”

“Hikma, I can’t tell you that because I read about half the first Volume, and gave up on the franchise,” Rem admitted. “But analyzing mess is my pass time and after they wreck all those build-up on sudden Dragon Queen’s heel turn for a ‘thoughtful’ twist of perspective you expect from edgy teenagers in the freaking 90s, you should be really worried about this movie.”

“Err, can we go back to Centuria, I mean how bad is…”

“Nothing to worry about,” Rem pointed at the board. “Melody and Ehto just finished designing our personal Cerebro. A bit of manipulation and we can pretty much direct all conflict away from our region. I also have a plan to hamstring the bandit and their sponsor. No biggy.”

“Sponsor?” Luxinna asked.

“Lux, do you think the bandit gets their supplies, weapons and information from the cloud?” Rem pointed out. “Of course not. Cash is king and the refugee sure as hell doesn’t have a lot. This meant they need channel to sell the goods. We cripple those buyers and it’s bye-bye to the competency level of the bandit. Sure, it wouldn’t be enough to stop every thug, but it would be enough to defang them. So how is our first clashes with Acrisius.”

“We stomp them and captured an S-rank,” Luxinna said.

“Yep, Promtus is our prisoner,”

“Excellent, but first let settle our newest batch,” Rem said.

…

“What the hell is going on!?” Atlanta screamed toward the sky at the rabid injustice barring her path to success.

Contrary to expectation, the young General wasn’t faced with a humongous enemy the size of a mountain or a psychotic lesbian one-man-army. Her current obstacle was the greatest obstacle for any disgruntle, ambitious young people who desired societal change.

Such an almighty wall to social revolution?

Answer: good old peace and contentment.

For a person to rise and fight, there must be injustice, unfairness and ambition to change. Sadly, for Atlanta, that commonality with the rest of Phantasia got utterly discontinued within the wall of Acropolis. One glance at reality and it was enough to dispel any hope of recruiting any kind of army to restore Centuria.

The beach in the distant looked beautiful, divorced from the reality of civil war. Newly built Vineyard in the distance danced like a beacon of joy where people could gaze at the children playing together. Some teenagers were working on a specialized barrel of alcohol. One of them even dressed like a secretary. Row of cleverly built mylar-base greenhouse dotted along the hill. Impromptu wooden huts were cheaply erected but were on their way to functionality. Truth to be told, several construction workers were already trying to upgrade from a wooden hut to the newest hit idea Rem introduced called condominium. Artisan, mostly mason, was already doing their trade. The mysterious benefactor even set the bank going. Although, to be honest, Rem and Cytortia were trying to create a rough draft for lending scheme. The settlement even had a functioning of guard house where adult and children alike were being educated about magic and combat. Someone even got a genius idea to open inn right next to those barracks. Cytortia, being a natural green-thumb, invested 120% effort to set-up a magical lawn with healing effort around the sidewalk.

Everyone was smiling. The incentive to go to the wall and die for the doomed country was negative nine-thousand.

Reality was cruel. General Atlanta came to the settlement looking for a way to return to glory. Instead, she got hit the reality that the people wanted to move on. To make a pill even more bitter, this settlement was run even better than the original Centuria. Atlanta didn’t even need approval poll. The smile and enthusiasm around here was already a solid proof that whoever was in-charge utterly put the old Centuria over their knee and give them a wedgie in management.

In blind desperation, Atlanta went over to a random passer-by who was carrying a wooden box.

“Who is in charge?” She yelled.

“Lady, I am busy,” said the young man. “The old-man got swamped by mason work ever since that they built a multiple story building. Find the council if you want to find the guy in charge.”

“The council?” Atlanta asked.

“Yeah, they are the dude we elected among the refugee,” the young man answered. “I just arrive a few days ago, so I am pretty new around here.” He took a closer looked at Atlanta and the men behind. “Let me guess. You haven’t done the orientation.”

“I think not,” Philip Odysseus intervened for the windblown General.

“Go to the barrack,” the young man blinked. “Trust me dude, you will love it here.”

…

The newcomer soon founded themselves at the barrack being greeted by the demoness a suit and glasses educating a group of men and women on the basic of combat.

“Phantasia greatest folly is the believe in what we called duelist mentality,” Melody lectured. “Sure. Sometime there is a point in standing in front of your enemy and challenging them into ceremonious duel when your ideology and purpose are at stake. However, the general rule of thumb is simple. You stack the deck as much as possible. In warfare, anything is a fair game from kicking people from behind, sniping your opponent from kilometers away, and in some heinous case, kidnapping a specific target to unbalance your opponent. In fact, a certain colleague of mine prefers if the battle isn’t fought at all. He insists robbing your enemy when they aren’t looking is the best method to ensure victory. You can’t fight if you can’t pay your army expense or get a loan.”

Phillip listened to the gem of wisdom and turned toward Atlanta, “Did they teach you any of this?”

The General’s facial expression said it all.

“And thus, we will begin the tutoring on one such stack deck strategy called a surprise attack” The lecture continued. “General rule of surprise maneuver is to catch your opponent unaware, and use surprise as force multiplier. Speed, stealth, and force are the component. You hit them hard and fast before they could raise their guard.”

It was then the demoness noticed the newcomer, “Class, go back to practical magic exercise. We will continue the lesson with proper demonstration after I finish the orientation.”

She clapped her hand, quickly dispersing the cloud. The flaming red-head wasted no time in giving the confused former royal army a bow.

“Welcome to Acropolis refugee settlement,” the demoness greeted. “I am Solarmaria, an official guide of this settlement.”

General Atlanta wasn’t used to people utterly ignoring her position.

“Okay, Solarmaria,” the General said. “What is your aim here?”

Melody blinked.

“Our aim pretty obvious, providing a safe refuge for people who actually need it,” Melody winked. “I think it is called a non-profit. But I believe that might actually change soon. The carbonate drink those kiddos produce is king worthy. Our partners already believed it will net quite an export.” Melody sighed. “So much for expecting no return.”

“You are lying.”

“Funny things is I am not, Former-General Atlanta,” Melody smiled. “Should we start an orientation now?”

“I am not here to stay!”

Phillip leaped in to diffuse the brawl, “We need your help in restoring Centuria and defeat Acrisius.”

Melody sensed a series of déjà vu, “Are you saying I should march-up North and stomp all the three dukes flat to the ground and burn their army to ash? Sorry, mister, but I already decide to quit the pointless slaughter thing long way back.”

“Are you going to let them get away?” Phillips said.

“I understand where you come from,” Melody answered. “But there is time and place for everything.”

“Time and place?” Atlanta stared at the demoness. “You are a demon! You guys from the Demonic Continent are infamous for your mercenaries! I can pay for troops and soldiers to retake Centuria.”

Melody let out a hollow laugh, “Okay, Miss, that hit nerve. Who do you think I am? A punk like Amitate Aztellic. Look here, I will repeat this again. I already grow out of that phase. Sorry, but the guy in charge and me won’t be sending other to die for our sake much less yours. We promise them safety, and I am sure not going to go back on my word.”

It was then Rem arrived.

“Howdy, instructor,” Remus Breaker came sipping on a mug of carbonated fruit juice. “Troublesome student. May I take over.”

Melody let out a sighed.

“You want a guy in charge, right?” She pointed at Rem. “Our strategist is right there. Try to convince him.”