A figure fell from Melody’s fireball.

It was Orwell shielded by a purple bubble of Amalgam barrier. Unparalleled buffer from Venistalis's Leyline allowed Orwell to tank Melody [Asura Sky] with his all-purpose barrier. Sadly, the attack vaporized the Amalgam bird he rode into the battle and destroyed all Amalgam beside him, causing his freefall.

Orwell thumped onto the ground. His shield absorbed the iAmpact, but contributed nothing to improve his mood. He stared at the sky. If not for his authority over Venistalis’s Mana, that fire-bomb would kill him. His exceptional knowledge allowed him to detect that fire was ridiculous, even for dragon’s fire. The girl launched it must be on Shyme’s level in Phantasia’s totem-pole.

Orwell stood.

Even among A-rank, Shyme Enma was a high-tier in combat strength. Orwell Mehest smirked. Grand Empire forcibly enlisted people with such power to maintain control. Aside from the royal-mages, royal-knights and the garrison forces, every fighter able to stop him already left with the generals accompanying the Emperor’s border visit. It was the reason he picked this window for his ultimate mission. With all its fighting forces concentrated elsewhere, he won’t get a better opportunity to turn Grand Empire’s own oppressive military policy against them.

Then unfortunate coincidence lined in the worse pattern imaginable. Within timescale of a blink, he went from prestige guest to Lady Fortune’s punching bag.

Before Orwell finished contemplating the strange development of life, an iron object he recognized as the Isle of Knowledge’s standard issue demolition shell arced into his face.

Orwell recalled the only successful bribery queen of Venistalis who carved a warpath to win licenses to store and handle those illegal weapons.

“Fuck you, Shyme.”

Orwell exploded again.

…

“Lancaster!” Shyme yelled, recalculating the artillery trajectory by using a state-of-art scrying spell and her mathematical genius. “Give me a high-payload barrier piercing round. High-explosive won’t stun him for long.”

“Yes, Lady Shyme,” Lancaster loaded another shell into a newly assembled custom-made mortar. It was MALEFACE-5 custom. An Isle of Knowledge's deluxe high-accuracy bombardment device meant for assassination via control destruction. Shyme’s special order version was outfitted with multiple-shell-compatibility and scrying spell addition. It was a perfect assassination tool that should be illegal in Grand Empire’s major city. But that was Enma clan’s perk — boatload weight gold to buy legal loopholes in all but single organisation in Phantasia (*cough* Horizon Dawn *cough*).

The licensing, contract and cost of the mortar were approximately 220 million credits. Shyme was Ms. Cash-cow, but negative cashflow of such eye-bulging magnitude landed a solid dent in her wallet, but high-scale incendiary was Ms. Enma’s hobbies. The fox-girl favored high-octane fire spells for a reason.

“Mistress,” Charon Sol (aka brainwash Chuang Tianshang) lifted her welding goggle. “My special automaton shell is ready.”

“Good!” Shyme roared. “Load it in!”

…

Orwell laid flat on his back, ungrateful for his fire bath. Not that the shell hurt him. Orwell’s shield was jacked to Venistalis’s Leynode. Brute-forcing through such thick stack of defense was impossible, even if Shyme threw her entire fortune at him. No. The actual annoyance from Shyme’s shelling was the fire clouding his vision.

The mastermind rested his palm and cast a powerful blanket of froze. Orwell limitless Mana fed the icy territory, expanding it past a 200 meters radius at an alarming rate to control the earth for a coming sky blitz.

Then a tiny orange sphere appeared by the corner of Orwell’s gaze. He blinked. Wait. The symbols inside the geometric phenomenon resembled Jordan’s subordinate’s.

“Oh F—”

[Surtr: Burn the Witch]

A sun of enchantment destroying flames blazed on top of Orwell, stopping the frost in its track.

…

Hikma stared at his handiwork and started analysing. Combat was new to him, but recent hours of fighting undead armies did miracles for his learning speed.

Hikma relieved the experience with his [Memoria Revision]. His [Deep Meditation] kicked in. Orwell’s specialty was Ice and Amalgam-base familiar. Rem labeled him invincible because of the unlimited amount of Mana, Amalgams available to him in battle and his control over Venistalis’s Leynode. Hikma grimaced. He had an inkling that Orwell would one-shot even Melody in her dragon forms with a correct attack given the vast Mana boosting him. From the previous trades, it was a safe assumption that his shield won’t break in probing contest.

Too little information was available. They needed more data.

Hikma never expected [Burn the Witch] to kill Orwell, but it would tip more of Orwell Mehest’s enigmatic arsenal for them to pick apart.

Spots of blue light pierce through the stationary fireball and popped it like a balloon. Orwell Mehest emerged from the fire — unharm aside from a crack violet barrier. A pale-blue ring encircled Orwell and sent strands of rays curving to the sky like a thread of wires. Spec of mist resembling a glitter of fairies accompanied those streams in an artful display.

[Deathless Amalgam: Cold Circuit]

Hikma and Melody dove in an opposite direction to evade Orwell’s attacks. The two Horizon Dawn’s knight and strands of Ice spells danced across the sky. Several stands went after Luxinna but her enchanted [Guard Flora] held out against the barrage aside from a minor frost forming at the Lotus’s surface. The elf took aim and opened fire with her [Assault Flora]. Colorful eruptions of mastery and techniques lighted the sky with gold and pale blue shine.

Hikma stopped playing around mid-dive and block the cold rays with [Aegis]. The frost climbed up the [Holy Armor], dropping its temperature to a dangerous low. Cracks expanded from the [Construct]. Hikma played the most efficient card, tossing his shield to intercept the rest of Orwell and let the [Holy Armor] broke to a million pieces. Unlike the Arcane, [Conceptual Seal] and thus it [Conceptual Construct] was indestructible, allowing Hikma to summon the [Aegis] back with a thought and reengaged his defense.

Melody didn’t bother to stop the attack. She paused mid-air and rushed into the array of freeze beam.

“Is she crazy?” Orwell questioned as the myriad of beam struck Melody’s draconic forms.

Frost crept through Melody, but it failed to stop her descent down on Orwell.

“What?” Orwell’s eyes bulge. Those ice rays were combinations of freezing embrittlement and shattering spells Amalgam. It could flash freeze and crushed almost every substance using temperatures of -260ºC. It even liquified air. Forget imitations, no known species of dragon in Phantasia survived a direct hit from [Circuit].

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Melody absorbed the freezing beam like it weighed nothing. Her skin and scales received no detrimental effect as her body heat melted through the frost. The demoness slammed her fist—armored with cosmic-tinged scale—into Orwell Mehest's shield with her full momentum. The attack landed with forces of a plane crash, sending a supernatural pressure rippling like hurricanes.

“What a battle?” The bushy beard noble Uther nearly got sent flying. “Even Balperia Generation Cup cannot rival this intensity!’

“Help me!” One noble’s woman nearly rode the pressure to heaven before a generous man catch her.

Luxinna’s fan-club noted the most important facts.

“She got him,” one nobles girl yelled, noticing the spiderweb crack snaking through Orwell’s shimmering barrier.

“How?” Andries yelled as she recovered from the hurricane gale. “That shield survived that explosion and magical mortar. A punch shouldn’t break it!”

“Who cares!” Eliza the simpleminded cheered. “Onee-sama is awesome!”

…

“How?” Orwell glared at the spider-crack emerging in his impenetrable defense.

“How do I survive your freeze ray?” Melody droned, concentrating on reprogramming Orwell’s barrier with [Anima Enchanting]. “Or how I am whacking apart your almighty armor? Which question is in your mind? Nah, I will answer both.”

Melody talked as the spiderweb grew.

“Your can liquify air, but unlucky for you, my current form can survive in deep space with the temperature of 2 Kelvin. That is 2 Celsius above Absolute Zero. Your freeze ray is still far from matching that temperature. I am not only fireproof but also immune to Physic’s lowest temperature. No ice mage in Phantasia can freeze me, caprice.”

Melody parted the crack further.

“Your shield is an Amalgam like all your special tricks. Familiars are annoying — especially homemade versions with an infinite selection of abilities and immunity to physical and magical attack. It must be a cakewalk for you to roll over Shyme Enma and Stuart Hex who use conventional technique given how unknown your pets are. Sad to inform you, we are not conventional mage. I already confirm your Amalgam are living-artifact made of mod soul. Chronicler’s previous fireball cemented it. That flames burnt enchantment — a fundamental component in all artifacts.”

Melody continued to stare into Orwell’s face and showed him a black microphone.

“Your luck runs dry, buddy. We are not Shyme Enma who arrogantly believes a [Divine Core] and row of spells will beat you. We are information gatherer, you dimwit. My teammate already received my deduction — the cat is out of the bag, buddy. Invincible or not, you won’t walk straight from this battle.”

If Orwell was honest, Melody’s words scared him. He stopped dragging the banter right then.

[Ice Create: Glacial]

Melody braced herself for a counter-attack, but its sheer scale blown her mind.

An ice creation spell — backed by the entire Mana supply of Venistalis — emerged from Orwell’s left foot and grew, eclipsing Melody in a glacier and pushing her off him. The [Glacial] grew at astonishing speed, forming a 10 by 10 meters wall of ice, carrying Melody away by 150-meters.

Ice-creation spells were especially difficult due to necessary to summon water and froze it. Arcane user like Hikma had life easy because they influenced realities to create the phenomenon. Meanwhile, technique and spells mechanically synthesize the result. Orwell managed enough power to create 7500 meter-cube of ice weighting roughly 7000 tons in less than a second. A quick math revealed freezing that amount of water would take approximate energy worth 550 tons of TNT, counting in the summon cost doubles the value into a solid kiloton.

“He release a double amount of [Burning Asura Sky] in a second?” Melody’s flames swirled in a futile effort to the demoness’s disbelief. “What the fuck! His home advantage must have limits.”

Orwell’s ice glacial swallowed Melody whole. It plowed through the streets, kicking dust and thin vapor mist, clouding the fatigued Orwell in a melancholic haze. The creation imprisoned Melody from their battle. The ice would stay — even Dragon spewing sun-fire took time to escape 7000 tons of solid ice-coffin.

The crowd gazed at the towering mass of frozen water.

“I take it back,” Lord Uther whispered. “That move will win Balperia Generation Cup a million times over. H-How can we beat him without an S-ranker?”

“This is a nightmare,” Chamomile’s mental-capacity parachuted from reality.

“Onee-sama,” Eliza the victim worried. “Will Empress-sama be—”

Eliza’s sentence died in her mouth. The flowers around Ace were fracturing. The elf’s sword glowed with ominous golden light.

“Girls,” Luxinna instructed the crowd. “Hang tight! I am field-testing an anti-army attack.”

…

Orwell wheezed. He possessed unlimited Mana to fuel him, but there was a cap to his output. Mehest surveyed the area with suspicion. Jordan must observe this battle from somewhere. The longer his subordinate dragged this fight, the more Orwell’s vulnerability increased. He cursed himself for not working out the game they played.

Then he realized the crack on his barrier wasn’t sealing. No, it was getting worse. Orwell checked the enchantment and double-taked. It was a mess. The crime scene resembled a burglar ramming semi-truck into his sophisticate creation, milk-shaking the furnitures, jumbled every article of clothing and set the room on fire as insurance. It was an overkill.

The demoness must be the culprit. But when--.

The possibility hit Orwell. Maybe Melody Solarmaria wasn’t monologuing for sake of uber hamminess. Orwell cursed. He hated competent opponent. The demoness duped him.

Orwell shove important question of how Melody skeleton-keyed herself into his software for another day to focus on the urgent crisis — information leakage prevention. His solution: use his Amalgam to fly into the sky and bombarded the entire area with multi-ton ice boulder, killing everyone with the ability they knew but were powerless to stop.

Orwell moved, but he couldn’t lift his feet. He glanced down with dread and saw a growing layer of ice covering his foot.

“The fuck,” he asked himself how the attack reached him. His eyes answered by registering the 150m long ice glacial stretching from his foot. One helmet-man knelt on the cold ice, reciting silent prayers of salvation and hope. Orwell growled. The helmet-mage must have camouflaged himself to land on his glacial creation under radar, then trapped him with ice.

Holy, Fire and Ice; Orwell groaned. Someone got all the gifts.

That moment a light broke the darkness. The illumination so wondrous and bright Orwell shielded his eyes from its brilliance. An elf stood on the high-ground. Swirls of golden vapors danced around her like wall of storm. Thier friction sparked brightness, searing Orwell’s retinas as dances of light converged on the elf’s golden sword.

Orwell blinked. He believed he saw a vision of his dead parent telling him to flee. His hippocampus flagged a warning. Invincible or not, the elf’s attack would pulp him. Thanks to that meddling mage, he won’t escape in time. Imaginary scenarios failed Orwell like falling confetti, leaving him with one option: defend against the swirling mass of golden light with every asset collected inside his bank-vault of tricks.

Orwell mentally called his Amalgam. Not good. The elf fell them in droves, when the dragon-girl and the mage occupied his attention. Orwell mentally booted himself for underestimating his opponent’s teamwork.

He got one option left.

“[Summon-]” Orwell began casting a summoning spell, but fate hated his gut for extra size today.

Clunk! Clunk! Clunk! Clunk!

Four cylindrical metal canisters impaled the surrounding ground. From it, a bulb flipped to view, shinning purple color light at Orwell. The purple light registered into his brain and induced a state of psychological disorientation, canceling out his spell and bring the invincible Orwell Mehest to his knee.

“Magus Sin Crystal?” Orwell glowed. Many considered those magical gems supreme anti-mage weapon worth several millions. The culprit must be Shyme Enma’s fucking mortar. Biggest question was who the fuck remodeled automate drones fitted with Magus Sin Crystal from scrap-metal and mortar-shell in a window of minutes. Orwell estimated a genius-level intellect of mechanical engineering behind the design.

But who?

Chuang Tianshang came to his mind. Impossible. That entitled bitch left Venistalis a month ago. Orwell foresaw no timeline where Shyme and Chuang buddied together for boy-talks and drinks.

…

“Achoo!” Charon Sol sneezed.

“Great job, Charon!” Shyme cheered from her scrying sphere. “We got him!”

It was the beginning of a beautiful master-servant relationship.

…

“[Jewel Sword: Salvation]”

Luxinna swung [Historia]—condensed with massive molten storm of golden glass. That swing released the compressed storm of heat, electricity and golden dust born from the friction of [Static Glass] particles. It was the attack designed to reach Wayward’s [Blue Spear] and broke it in two. The molten plasma beam of [Static Glass] lighted a beacon, brightening all four quarters in a wave that rivaled Orwell’s prior [Glacial] in size and demolished it in intensity.

Defenseless and trapped, Orwell stared at the wall of light and lightning that smashed his compromised shield to pieces of fundamental Mana and plowed into his body.

Luxinna’s light didn’t stop. [Salvation] carried the burnt and electrocuted Orwell crossed the 4 kilometers wrecked stretch of Fire-quarter at the velocity of Mach 29 and fabulously entered the Water-quarter. For the first time since summoning the Dark Ones, doubt of his victory seeped into Orwell Mehest as he slammed into his own Spiritium tower.

Approximate kinetic energy release by Luxinna’s attack (not counting the heat-energy): 55 GJ or 13 kilotons of TNT.

A reminder: the “Fatman” nuclear bomb is around 20 Kiloton.