“Luxinna, please focus on protecting them,” Hikma De Darwin brandished his walking stick. “I will stall Orwell.”
“Uh oh,” Luxinna argued. “Alone? Are you crazy? That guys counter three of us together.”
“Luxinna, please,” Hikma gestured at his opponent shielded inside the skull projection. “Let me do this.”
Orwell chuckled, but a column of fire erupted below the mage. The demoness was at it again. The mastermind sighed, conjuring hundreds of tons worth of ice on Melody, who crushed his counter in a burst of flames and agile maneuver.
“Your flame's strength is undisputable,” Orwell blocked the charging Melody with his indestructible wing. “But aside from that explosion. Your technique is plain.”
Orwell punched the demoness with a giant skeleton fist, sending her flying toward Luxinna group.
Melody bit back a grin.
[Asura Burning Sky] X 5
Five shining gems glittered around Orwell Mehest.
Impressive. She hid those gems inside her fire, Orwell thought, swirling his hand like an orchestral conductor. But the same attack won’t work twice.
[Orwell’s Original: Skull Feast]
Five purple skulls emerged into existence, opened thier mouths, and swallowed the [Asura Burning Sky] crystals. The explosion detonated but — in a feat of Amalgam engineering — Orwell vented kiloton-grade fires through the skulls’ hollow sockets, shunting the attacks away in five devastating fire-streams, scorching the sky and ground but not Orwell Mehest.
Melody got to her feet — utterly stump.
The demoness might receive the greatest power increase, but it came with a price. She only invented one EAPS. The current Melody was a one-trick-pony. Her participation warmed the bench, if her explosion and melee failed.
Luxinna threw more supersonic projectiles
Orwell didn’t blink or move an iota. The frost skull shielding emitted a dense pressurized cryogenic mist, coating Luxinna’s sword in frost. The elf’s projectiles smashed against the giant purple skull protective Orwell and broke to pieces.
“My turn.”
Circle of ice appeared behind Orwell Mehest.
[Orwell’s Original: Arctic Circle Familiar Summoning]
It was the third time in the showdown Orwell dropped this spell. Shyme and Charon blocked the first. Hikma stopped his second attempt. Sadly, as many recited, third time was a charm.
The circle opened to a void of darkness and a fresh army of Amalgam familiar flew out. Death knights swooped from the air. War-machines and creatures made from black mist assembled and charged. Creature coated in inky darkness popped from the gate and cawed. Orwell was refilling his depleted numbers.
“He learned your trick,” Hikma De Darwin stepped forth face the army. “Cover the innocent. I am going to stop his army.”
“Alone?” Kruger refused to believe that was possible. “You can’t. You will die.”
“Maybe,” Hikma replied. “Maybe not.”
“Who are you?” Andries watched a fabled hero marching in face of overwhelming force.
“Nothing,” Hikma couldn’t help but recall the memory. “Just a weakling and a ruin dwelling scholar.”
The Chronicler solemnly ran into battle.
…
[Orwell’s Original: Frozen Mist Spector]
The ice vapor spilling from the spectral skull convened, creating apparel of a misty behemoth. The giant of cold swung its fist to annihilate Hikma.
[Surtr: Phoenix Dance]
Hikma unleashed a spherical [Conceptual Construct] which transformed into a golden bird engulfing the giant in flames. Orwell frowned at the destruction of his creation, but Hikma’s action wasn’t over. The [Conceptual Seal] for [Earth] glowed.
[Earth Shift]
Walls of earth rose, surrounding both combatant inside a hexagonal arena of rampart.
[Aegis: Holy Force] X 3
Hikma followed his earth Arcane with holy laser blazing from three constructs, smashing apart several Death-knights and Amalgam familiars. Orwell narrowly dodged the beam and launched his counterattack.
[Orwell Original’s Spectral Frost Armament]
Mehest cast his hand and attacked with a spectral pillar Hikma barely dodged. The column of ghostly projection slammed into the ground, covering whatever it touched in ice.
Orwell quickly took control of the battlefield.
[Orwell’s Original: Ice Hell Founding]
[Ice Hell Founding] was an attack that covered the area in Amalgam ice under Orwell’s control, but Hikma already countered that move once. The Chronicler expanded the Surtr until it covered the earthen rampart. It signaled the eruption of an AOE attack.
Dammit, Orwell Mehest flapped his wing split second before the Arcane launched.
[Surtr: Burn the Witch]
The enchantment consuming flames melted the layer of frost without harming Hikma De Darwin.
The two men stared at each other. Orwell squinted from the sky. Hikma braced himself on the earth. Orwell dropped more Amalgam, but Hikma expected it. The [Conceptual Seal] for [Space] ignited the moment his [Deep Meditation] detected the fluctuation in Orwell’s frozen rings.
[Space Jamming]
The ring behind Orwell shattered as space folded inside-out.
Orwell rolled his eyes.
“Do you realize how annoying it is when your spell keeps getting block?” Orwell ranted. “Three tries! It took me trice to activate that spell and you broke it!”
“The only rule is there is no rule,” Hikma recited Rem’s quote. Massive dome of Surtr shielded him inside the wall of enchantment killing fire. Orwell couldn’t touch him inside the flames of hope.
Orwell’s eyes twitched. Time to crush the fool on the ground below him. Chronicler must realize the fight’s ending already, but as expect he kept fighting. People like him lacked comprehension to give up as long as hope burned.
[Orwell’s Original: Perpetual Blizzard Phantasmal]
Orwell Mehest committed that technique to extinguish the light.
…
Mehest was right.
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Hikma understood that winning wasn’t an option. The current Orwell was invincible. After crashing with Orwell, Rem’s warning became crystallized truth.
Horizon Dawn never used Mana as a fuel, but their body could burn out after extensive usage of True Magic and Arcane. Orwell possessed no such problem. His supplies were inexhaustible. The further the fight dragged, the faster Hikma’s eventual defeat would arrive.
The only shot they got was overwhelming his defense and battered him. However, Orwell’s modification turned that avenue into an impossibility. He tanked Luxinna’s [Jewel Sword: Salvation] and healed himself in a brief period. On top of his durability, Orwell possessed platters of techniques both offensive, defensive, and crowd-control. Those were hard hurdle to climb, but the sheer power of his authority over Leyline ballooned the man well-round power-set into sheer invincibility.
Then Orwell made his move, conjuring a palm-size spectral skull with humongous lilac butterfly wings. Mehest wasted no second to hurl the Amalgam upward. The butterfly shone with purple glimmers and unleashed blizzard down on the ruined quarter.
…
Melody and Luxinna fought against the hoard of Amalgam when the blizzard descended.
“Oh no,” Melody’s [Heavenly Eye] churned. The demoness didn’t like what her eye told her as [Asura Burning Sky] rendered collection of Death-knights and war-machines to dust.
“What is it?” Luxinna kicked a Death-knight in the face, then decapitated it a breath later.
“Those were Amalgam snow,” Melody lifted a war-machines up and threw it at another familiar. “It can—”
Melody’s replied realized itself when a dying Amalgam—impaled by [Assault Flora]’s barrages—rose back to fight. Its injury sealed by a layer of snow. Meanwhile, frost begun covering various [Static Glass] sculptures to undermine it.
“The snowstorm is working in Orwell’s favor?” Luxinna groaned and stumbled. Her injured shoulder protested in pain. “This is bad. With his resources, he can sustain the snow forever.”
…
Hikma recognized Orwell’s winning move — a pin.
Two options were available on Hikma’s desk. He either stalled the snow with [Burn the Witch] until his stamina dried and handed Orwell the victory, or conceded [Burn the Witch] and froze to death. As a teammate of Rem, Hikma selected the third option—stopped the blizzard.
[Surtr: Phoenix Dance] X 5
Five balls of Surtr stormed the skies in forms of burning firebird. Hikma’s had a simple target—the damn butterfly dropping blizzard on his head. The birds rose past the flaming barricade, screeching to its target, avoiding Orwell to hit the Amalgam coating the quarter in snow.
But it was too obvious to work.
[Orwell’s Original: Frozen Mist Spector]
…
The nobles and spectator witnessed the spectacle ripped from pages of myths.
The harsh blizzard blurred the scenery into freckled of white and purple. The translucent impenetrable wall of storm surged, braying at the broken earth like wolves’s thirst for blood. Before that wall of cold, warmth was a fleeting dream, barely bleating inside the rampart shielding the hearth. Then, from the glowing fireplace, a bird of flames shoot to the sky like arrows aiming to break the impenetrable storm.
But from the dark cloud, a creature make of icy mist arrived to deny the wish of fire, ripping the bird to pieces as hot and cold battle in carnage the unfurled in a scent of charcoaled steam, Orange and purple mixed and repelled in the sky. The overwhelming blizzard billowed to extinguish the fire of hope, but a pillar of holy light sailed skyward in defiance, trailblazing path through the beast of the storm, No one knew whether it was the dazzling light or a profound concept existing inside one heart, but the brilliance of the friction between the duet fire and ice were legendary.
Ominous skull emerged, crackling its mouth to unleash a pale blue beam that pushed the light away to snuff the hearth. The pale beam of raw arctic cold shone unopposed. Then a great ice-wall rose to block the cold light, and one blue star flew from the earthen fortress into the dark sky. Cloud cracked audibly, and all soul saw the refraction of sunlight, as if they were praying from the bottom of mother ocean.
Waterfall of illusory water fell like divine fist, humbling the spectral skull and its master to the ground. However, the play was far from over. The water reversed its drop and molded into a serpent 2 meters thick and 150 meters long. The skull reemerged from the ground and spewing frost at the water serpent. But with water current clearer than spring, the snake shed the creeping ice off like rotten scales. The serpent hissed, chasing the abominable skull across the sky. Light and ice collided. The hearth shrank into a tiny sun and flew against the snowstorm, circular emblems of light rotating around that ember, wielding holy ray against spectral skulls to reach the tumulus dark cloud. Inexhaustible quantity of frozen mist clashed against the rapid firebirds as light beam and purple ghost sprayed the sky in colors.
The snake, ridden by glowing ember, crashed against a giant spectral skull as the hero of Dawn and the avatar of vengeance dueled for the meaning of justice.
…
“Unbelievable,” Uther witnessed the carnage in the sky. “Are those two A-ranks? Even for A-rank, this battle is ridiculous.”
“Hikma is B,” Luxinna corrected, decapitating the death-knight and bombarding its body to smithereens.
Everyone starred at her.
“Impossible!”
“Onee-sama, you must be lying, right?” Eliza laughed nervously. “B-rank can’t and summon a massive water snake to duel a 33 Star to a stand-still?”
“The 33 Stars is around the Untouchable-level, right? Chronicler would have no problem with someone like Illma Zoldia Road, so he is a solid B-rank!”
“Ace-san, your scale of reference make no sense!?”
None of them realized the women who defeated Illma when she newly achieved B-rank were talking.
…
Hikma gave his all, but his rough breathing pattern told everything.
He hung at the edge of burning out. Hikma huffed on top of a shimmering snaked created out of True Magic. His vision won’t stop blurring.
Orwell stopped. He caught on to Hikma declining speed and power.
“I see,” Orwell started theorizing. “So, you have limit. For a second, I believe you have way too much Mana. Truth is, you are not using Mana. You are funneling energy from somewhere else with your Mana as a median of transfer. How ingenious. My grandfather theorized a similar premise as a base for the Ascendancy Ritual as a method to change Mana into a more efficient fuel source. But no median is perfectly efficient, that internal resistance is slowly overheating your body. Give it up, Chronicler. Given the current rate of expenditure, your stamina will dry in 2 more minutes at most.”
Suddenly a light shone from Wind-quarter.
“Yeah, I can only stall,” Hikma cracked a smile. “Dream never plan to beat you today. We only need to force you to retreat.”
…
The preparation completed that second.
A massive network of string held by every able-bodied man and woman in Wind-quarter connected the will of the people to Rem and encircled Cytortia’s floating body. Rem held the ties of hope and supercharge it, spreading his True Magic to everyone in the Wind-quarter.
“Ready?” Rem whispered
Ready when you are, Cytortia’s disembodied voice called.
“Good.”
“What are you planning to do,” Madam Marmel was holding on to the string. “You said the string will help you cast an attack that will cripple Orwell. What type of spell is it?”
“It not a spell,” Rem corrected. “It is an utilization of Cytortia’s barrier. Normally, this technique will take too much of my stamina. This string connects all the volunteers’s Mana to divide the cost as I direct the spell with a mental link.”
…
Down in the infirmary, a boy rescued from the Earth’s quarter was protesting.
“What is this point?” He protested. “We lost. Now we are holding to a string and praying? Why do you even bother struggling?” He bawled. “Just give up already. You are only making this painful.”
A hand patted him on the head.
“Listen, kid. I don’t know what world you live in that makes it so easy to quit,” Aleksei Martynov replied. “Where I come from winner never accept when the world defined a task impossible. Real victory comes from fighting against—”
“You say that because you never seen…”
Aleksi continued his stories.
“I once witnessed a boy — only few years older than you — who claimed he will end a war without a single death, and he succeeds. I watched a man win the highest office of the world despite being ridiculed for daring to try. I lived to see a man ousted from his company returned to buy it back and changed the world.”
Aleksi held that string and looked down on a sobbing kid.
“It’s fine to surrender, but I have seen enough in my life to convince me impossible is just a target.”
…
[Cytortia/Rem’s combination attack]
[Tir Na Soal: Emerald Purity]
…
Orwell eyed the emerald light in the Wind-quarter rising to the sky, forming an image of an eastern dragon. The dragon dove at the section of Wind-quarter under Orwell’s control and rushed through several smoking buildings. Every Amalgam meeting it turned to scrap. The dragon dove underground, phasing through solid earth like it was a dream.
“Oh fuck,” Orwell deduced his future and failed to prevent it even with his overwhelming might.
PING!
Orwell sensed the dragon swallowing the Spiritium crystal he hid in Wind-quarter, purifying it to destruction. The raw sensation of his grip on the Leyline loosening assaulted Orwell’s mind with a jackhammer migraine. How did they know which warehouse contained the Spiritium anchor? Fear returned to Orwell for the first time since the Dark One’s arrival. Did they know the locations of his three remaining crystals too?
PING!
Right on cue, another migraine dog-piled him. Orwell’s face twitched. That crystal was inside an impenetrable bunker beneath his Spiritium HQ. That madman must sic the dragon at the Water-quarter to destroy his defenses and smashed his most well defended crystal. Unacceptable, he lost two keystones gripping his army within the window of a second.
But those lost should be the last of Orwell Mehest’s worries.
Because the [Emerald Purity] rose right under Orwell Mehest. The dragon swallowed him whole as it headed to the [Perpetual Blizzard Phantasmal] and gulped the Amalgam in one bite, ending the snowstorm before fading to nothingness.
Orwell survived the purification at tremendous damage to his chemical balance. His Amalgam barrier got finished by the dragon, and its effect on his incomplete modification caused an intense irritation that sent him spasming. Orwell groaned from aching muscle and stomach pain, before glancing up to meet a beam of light heading at him.
Rem gave Hikma the perfect attack window.
“Fuck you.”
[Holy Force]
The holy laser plowed into Orwell, diving him to the earth.
From the smoking crater, Orwell Mehest staggered up before coughing blood. He wasn’t defeated, but those blood threw his initial invincibility in question.
Hikma landed to face him, breathing hard.
Then his communicator rang. Hikma De Darwin answered it to meet Rem’s exhausted voice.
“Hikma projected my image to Orwell. I have a cycle of vengeance to destroy.”