Arthur wasn’t sure how long it had been. His mind was just going in circles, and his overclocking via his Archive wasn’t helping. If anything it was making it worse. Cube had fired and destroyed thousands, tens of thousands of people, and ultimately it was because he had messed up and allowed it to happen. He kept replaying the shot. If he had just reacted a little faster. If he had taken down the Cube as it shot. He could have saved those people. It’d have been dangerous. But with his power he could have done it. He should have done it.
He hadn’t asked for this sort of responsibility. He didn’t really want to have people living or dying based on his decisions. One person was too much already, and now it was entire cities of people. They were faceless though. And a part of him kept having the niggling feeling that he didn’t actually care. That he only felt he should feel guilty because that was the socially acceptable thing to do. And then he’d remember the sight of the city. The fire and destruction and the sinking feeling that it was inhabited. And the guilt loop would start again in his Archive and then his brain proper.
It was Selene who broke him out of the loop. Her voice cut through his depression just like it was currently cutting through the barrier between worlds: “Arthur what do you think you’re doing?”
He was too ashamed to answer honestly, leaving him only to stammer meaninglessly. It wasn’t easy to say that he was re-playing his own failure to expunge sin through self-inflicted suffering in a form of self-flagellation. After all, even he knew that sort of angst was worthless and only a path to self-destruction and more failure.
“If I felt that energy cannon in Edolas, Acnologia felt it. He’s almost certainly on his way. It’s time to get out of there unless you want me to send over Ignia’s faction to fight him there,” Selene’s voice was matter-of-fact. She wasn’t affected by the destruction visible beneath him.
“I need to do something first. I’m going to take the risk of world-walking for the speed needed, because, one way or another, I fight Acnologia today,” He was rising to his feet. If he didn’t kill Acnologia, who knew how many people would die. But he had an idea how many might die if he didn’t kill Acnologia before he reached Maximus. Even with a gouge torn through it, it was still a massive city by this world’s standards.
“I don’t like that,” Selene said. “There’s still the chance that he…”
“Replicates the spell. I know. But if he’s not killed and is left trapped in Earthland, he’ll figure it out eventually. Giving him the chance to learn it more quickly is worth an increase in the odds of actually killing him.” The self-reprimanding loop had been broken, but Arthur knew he was in danger of falling back into it. So he pretended to have no doubts. He pretended to know what he was doing. If he messed up it wasn’t just a city which would die.
He hated this feeling of responsibility.
Selene’s image glared at him. Arthur was certain she had not liked the answer he gave her. She wasn’t used to being opposed. And then the corner of her mouth turned up. “I like you better when you’re this way, than a puddle of self-pity. Fine. Do what you feel you must to ensure he dies. I will not be taking the field myself though. I seek to live, after all.”
Arthur wondered about that. If he recalled correctly she’d been mortally wounded fighting Ignia in the manga when she could have avoided the fight. But it would have meant letting him take control of Earthland for himself, and Earthland was still her home. And if he had to guess she had not wanted its humans to all be burned away.
Irene had tried to contact him. It was worth talking to her through the communication lacrima before he went to talk to Zeref. Even if he’d prefer not to have to face the fact that he wasn’t answering her calls. He had a good excuse. But he still hated talking to angry people especially when they were angry with him. Arthur knew would rather fight a dark mage than have to actually socialize with someone, at least in an awkward situation.
Irene was not happy, but she was mostly understanding. He had been dealing with violent confrontations; he couldn’t just pause the fight to chat.
Of course she wasn’t pleased with who he had been fighting. They were Zeref’s dolls and killing them risked displeasing Zeref, and as she was pointing out this was a rather diplomatically sensitive time. After all she hadn’t initially been calling over the battle. Zeref had informed her that he had come to his decision about aiding Arthur with Acnologia and wished to see Arthur immediately to give Arthur his answer.
It was time to talk to the Black Wizard. But there was one last thing to do first.
Opening his Archive link he contacted Minerva. “Minerva. I’ve dealt with Tartaros’s command structure, and secured their ship. But I’m going to have to leave it out of the town. Acnologia is on the way, and I need to give one last shot at getting Zeref to join in the battle against him. I’m going to get rid of their ship before I go.”
He wanted the Cube as a weapon against Acnologia, but the b.R.A.I.N. device would break it free of his control sooner or later, and the risk that it happened during the battle was unacceptably high. If he had a few hours he was certain he could subvert the b.R.A.I.N. device. Maybe even just half an hour. But he’d seen Acnologia’s speed before. He didn’t have that sort of time. At least not with the time sink that would be dealing with and talking to Zeref. And he hoped Zeref was a better tool against Acnologia than this ship.
But he had an option other than brute force destruction. It would be a bit straining, but with the ship not resisting at the moment, he fed magic into the shadows. They were becoming his, a portal to a dimension of darkness he’d built up little by little over the years. His dark dominion magic.
He pulled the ship whole into his dark dimension, leaving himself to stand upon two discs of his territory as its shadow - which had swallowed it from below - disappeared slowly now that the source of that black pool was gone.
“Acnologia is coming here?” Minerva asked. “Got any preparations me and Tabby should make?”
“I’m going to try and figure out which way he’s coming from,” Arthur answered. Acnologia was fast, and if he was running at speed his power should be felt. But he was also surprisingly good at hiding his energy when he wanted to. Arthur couldn’t feel him from here. Maybe if he took the Magic Sensor perk for another cheat power. But he didn’t want to tap into his emergency reserve of points; he might need something else.
“Should me and Tabby continue rescue efforts then?” Minerva asked.
Arthur hated the question. Minerva had every right to ask it. He was the leader here. He was the commander. It was his responsibility to decide where she was directed and how. But he hated knowing all those lives were on his shoulders. Would he need her and Tabby for the fight? Could he come back here for them and keep the fight out of Maximus and its massive population center? Was it better to get her and Tabby as far from the fight as possible for their sakes? If either of them died due to him…
At this point Minerva probably meant more to him than anyone else in the world. She easily outweighed all of Maximus. All of Pergrande. All of frickin’ Ishgar even. He didn’t want her to die.
“Evacuate as many people as you can quickly, and get out of there yourselves.”
“But…” Minerva started.
“No buts. If the battle hits Maximus, I don’t want to be distracted worrying about yours and Tabby’s safety.” He knew Tabby would hate him for this choice. He knew that if people died a part of Minerva would always blame him for it. He knew it was a selfish choice; he was choosing to minimize the danger to the lives of his friends potentially over the lives of thousands. And if Acnologia didn’t even come…
He sighed. “Strike that. Evacuate as many people as you can, but keep your territory ready for a quick extraction. If Acnologia does come to Maximus I want you out of there asap.”
“... Ok.” Minerva’s ‘tone’ through the mental connection showed she was hurt. She was his apprentice, and this had to feel like he was showing little to no faith in her in a battle.
“Minerva, you’re strong. I know that. But… I am this close to breaking from the weight of deaths I caused already. I can’t bear to think I might get you killed.”
No response came for a time. He could only wonder what Minerva was thinking. “Ok,” She finally said. “I’ll stay back and keep a safe distance. But you’d better win.”
“I intend to.” Arthur realized then that he had wanted her to tell him the cannon firing hadn’t been his fault. That he hadn’t caused all those deaths. But she hadn’t. Because it was his fault. He’d failed them.
He wouldn’t fail Minerva. He would end Acnologia.
But first it was finally time to actually go to Alvarez. It was a quick trip. One step to reach another world - not Edolas as he didn’t see any reason to risk Acnologia’s attention going to that dimension now - and then another to the room he had stayed in within the castle.
His Archive warned him that he’d set off alarms, but that wasn’t an issue to him. He had been requested to come as soon as possible. This was the quickest means.
The old man, Wizard King August, arrived within moments with a force of castle guards at his back. They were more window dressing than anything practical; August was one of the most dangerous entities in all of Earthland, if he couldn’t handle a threat the guards were worse than useless against it. Still the aged mage’s hand rose. “Sheath your weapons. He is expected. The emperor requested his attendance,” He said without so much as glancing back at the soldiers. “I will admit I thought you had said you were avoiding long distance teleportation.”
“I was. But time is of the essence. Acnologia is moving towards the largest city in Ishgar, and I am preparing to fight him now. If Zeref will provide aid, I will have to transport those who can fight such a battle to Ishgar immediately.”
August looked at him for a few moments. Arthur couldn’t read him, couldn’t even really guess at what was going on inside of the head of the Wizard King. “I expect it will not be that simple. It never is with the emperor,” He said after the pause. “I can take you to him now.”
Arthur nodded. It was spatial magic which August used to take them to the throne room, and its massive table. The place where Zeref sat waiting.
He was dressed in his full suit as Emperor Spriggan. Fine made, and with enough flair to stand out on its own, but not too gaudy or over the top for an emperor: black robes with a white toga over top. Respectable, but not impressive.
He sat in the same position he had last time Arthur had been here. The thoughts of it still left a bitter sourness in his mouth. He hadn’t liked Zeref then. And he didn’t really like him more now. But he had come hat in hand to ask for assistance, and he was now. It was better to swallow that pride and listen.
The Spriggans were - again - only partially assembled. Still even with only 7 of the 12 here they were a dangerous bunch. Bloodman, Larcade, and August made up his most loyal supporters. Ajeel, Invel, and the fat man who he presumed was Wall Eehto were each more dangerous than the one before. And the other he assumed was Drusus the Takeover Tyrant. As one of the weakest members - doomed to be replaced before even appearing in the main story - he concerned Arthur less than the others. Besides, Arthur was almost certainly better at Takeover than him, even without getting into his other advantages.
But they were side dishes. Zeref was the main course.
“Welcome, Arthur the Northern Mage,” Zeref said. “I didn’t expect you this quickly, or I would have had a feast prepared and waiting.”
“Sorry,” Arthur said with a bit of a shrug and butterflies flying through burning hoops as they did barrel rolls in his stomach. “But I didn’t exactly have time to wait, nor do I have time for niceties or formalities. Acnologia is-”
“On his way to Maximus. Yes. August already informed me,” Zeref cut him off. “So I guess I should put forward my proposition. You want the assistance of the Spriggan Twelve. I want to die. Kill me and Alvarez and the Spriggan Twelve are yours. But if you fail to kill me, you will join the Spriggan Twelve and serve me loyally in all things.”
“I don’t want their assistance. I want yours. Once Acnologia is dealt with, I’ll find a way to end your curse, either break it or kill you as you wish.”
“No,” Zeref said. “I’ve considered. I will not aid you against Acnologia. If I do so and you fail, my life will be reduced to eternal suffering. Kill me if you can. Or serve me. But you will not leave this room otherwise.”
Arthur could already feel the spell in place. One to block off spatial magic. One of the Spriggans’ had a minion with that power. Rules of the Area or something. Spatial magic to rule other spatial magic. He wondered if his own skill and his pure magic could let him overcome it, but the mage putting it in place was ungodly strong. It’d not be easy to brute force it. So instead he considered the other option. Could he circumvent it?
He would have to multitask, though. He was still talking to an emperor. “Fine,” He said, his hand moving to his sword’s hilt. “Send the Spriggans away. If they’re to be my prize, I’d not want them to die, and your curse may go wild when I kill you.” Mard Geer’s memories had been added - at least in parts - to his Archive and while he had no intention of ever reading through them all, his Archive had already found portions on killing Zeref. If he was to die his death dealing magic needed to be expended or it would erupt out from him. “Once they’re safe, just sit back and I will take your life.”
“August, remove the Spriggans to a safe distance,” Zeref stated. “But I will not simply sit back. I may wish to die, but I don’t desire to leave my empire to destruction. I will not simply relax and let you end me. You will fight me to prove that you are a worthy heir. If you can’t defeat me, then you will serve me.”
Arthur hated the emotionless, imperious tone. The way Zeref was obviously looking down not just on him, but everyone. He didn’t have time for a dragged out battle either. Or the energy for one. He wasn’t certain that the Spriggans were worth it.
But killing Zeref might be. If he couldn’t handle the power of Zeref’s soul he likely couldn’t handle the power of Acnologia’s. And if he could, Zeref’s vast power should be enough to recharge him from his previous battle and this one, and leave him overflowing with excess vitality and power. If Zeref was going to be a self-centered frickin’ bastich, he would give him what he wanted and end him.
August had obeyed Zeref’s command already, removing the Spriggans. They were still observing, a lacrima in the center of the ceiling was monitoring the room, but that didn’t bother Arthur. It made things better for him. If the Spriggans could see they’d know any deals made.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Besides, August was only a bit of an asshole, not enough of one to not deserve to see how his father reacted to learning about their relationship.
“Fine. Let’s just make this little duel quick. I’ve got a dragon to slay, and I’d hate to drag out killing you with your son watching.”
“Larcade is of no importance,” Zeref said. “Though,” A pair of books appeared in his hand which he immediately placed on the table before him, “I guess he is your prize. You’ll need to do some tweaks once you kill me, to keep him compliant.” There was no love from Zeref for the demon who thought himself his son, and whose entire being was dedicated to making his ‘father’ proud. He was nothing more than a tool.
“I meant August,” Arthur said. “Your and Mavis’s child. You didn’t really not realize that this whole time, did you? Hades knew when he abandoned him in the forest.”
Arthur could feel Zeref’s use of telepathy magic to contact August. He was confirming what Arthur had just told him. Arthur could always lie and claim Hades’s notes were his source, he didn’t have to tell them that he had learned it by reading a manga about them in another world.
Blackness blossomed from Zeref’s body. It erupted from him wildly and uncontrolled. The emotional control which allowed him to control his curse had been shaken, and as he felt a sense of love for his son and regret for the time he had spent unwitting of their relationship the curse struck wildly at all things.
It was darker than darkness, a great, black void of unlife ready to absorb and drain everything in its path. Arthur answered with his own. The Rules of the Area - apparently a magic Zeref could utilize if he wanted to, which was still an unpleasant surprise - had shut down Arthur’s Territory Armor, but when August had been allowed through it, that had been more than enough information for Arthur to come to an understanding of how to counteract it. It was like he had watched the password be input, and now that he knew it, it was easy to make the spell think he was ‘allowed’ through it.
His prosthetic hand re-quipped, trading the black, claw-fingered gauntlet modeled after the hand of Sauron that he had taken up to deal with the demons of Tartaros, for the pristine white, prayer covered fist he called the God Hand. He wasn’t certain what the true nature of the divine curse was, but he suspected that if he could use Darkness God Slayer Magic he could consume it.
The rest of his body was wrapped in darkness, a mixture of Magic Barrier Particles - something that Mard Geer’s knowledge had informed him was at least somewhat effective against the death magic of Ankhseram’s curse - and a dimensional portal. He would feed it into another reality so that it could not drain his life.
The darkness slammed into Arthur and washed over him, his mouth the only unshielded portion of his body. He could not see. He could not feel anything but the strange non-sensation of a void around his body. He could not sense the outside world except gastronomically. And he ate.
It was poison. Even for a darkness god slayer. There were magical barrier particles mixed within. It wasn’t magic as a mage wielded. Or a curse as an etherious did. It was something more basal and primal. He let his takeover magic flow, shifting into his Satan Soul - Legion form. He needed it to consume the poison he was taking in. God and Demon Slayer Magic was forced to work in tandem, as he ate. And even then he could feel it trying to eat away at his being back. But it was revitalizing and nourishing him faster than it could drain him.
Of course he needed it to be, as he was only weathering it by avoiding the lion’s share of the onslaught at a constant cost of magical power. Even so when there was no more to eat and he dared open the face of his Void Armor, he felt refreshed and reinvigorated, overflowing with curse power and magical power both.
Zeref was visibly spent. Emotions played on his face. Arthur didn’t hesitate though. Zeref was probably the second most dangerous being around. And if Arthur was going to defeat him in time to tangle with the most dangerous one he needed to do it now. He couldn’t afford to hesitate for even a moment or other people would pay the price. Zeref needed to die. It wasn’t just to recharge himself. Arthur was confident that between the 7 destined dragon slayers, Igneel’s faction, and himself, they could kill Acnologia, Zeref and the Spriggans had just been a means to stack the deck a bit and help minimize casualties. No. To minimize the chance that Arthur himself died in the battle. But that chance was there. And Zeref was too dangerous to the world to leave alive if he died. Even without Acnologia in the mix it was too likely that eventually he got bored and tried to delete the timeline to make his own life better; and either the entire manga was a shaggy dog story where the heroes stopped someone from creating utopia or that would kill everyone who was currently alive.
And Zeref might well kill him here and now if he hesitated.
He’d resolved himself even while Zeref was forcing the nauseating darkness down his throat. Zeref would die. And he wouldn’t hesitate to end him. With his Archive overclocking his mind he reacted much more quickly than the stunned, drained, and dazed Black Wizard.
Before Zeref had even realized Arthur had managed to use spatial magic despite his precautions Arthur was behind him, his black sword plunged through Zeref’s chest, his teeth sinking into Zeref’s throat. His body was shifting; the bulky, winged, tailed, scaled maroon demon of his Legion form was becoming the more lithe and human sized, black painted, taloned Chaos form, the 8 pointed arrow of chaos forming in red on his chest as he took upon himself a form drawn from the very soul of his sword so that he could replicate its power. Sword and wielder worked in tandem to drink Zeref’s soul.
Zeref’s black magic rose up and washed over him. But it was exhausted and expended now, and the vitality flowing into Arthur more than offset the curse. Zeref was weak, and his own immortality was being drained to shield Arthur from the death curse. It was Mavis’s curse - an identical or lesser form of Zeref’s - which would have ended the Black Wizard normally. If Arthur couldn’t kill him with the sword, maybe Zeref’s own defensive response would.
But Arthur could kill him with the sword. It sang in his hand, the demonic blade exultant in glee at the deep feast it was being given. Zeref struggled, trying to teleport free. There was a final surge of desire to live. A desire born not of fear of death, but of fear of leaving behind one who was valued. Of leaving August to die against Acnologia.
And then the Black Wizard went limp in Arthur’s arms. The sword drank still. He drank still. His Archive recorded Zeref’s last feelings, his last dying thoughts, even as the Black Wizard’s immortal curse was ended and they slumped dead and soulless.
And then Arthur couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at himself. It was a hollow echo of the raucous, gleeful laughter of his sword. His Archive was telling him information he’d have been happier not knowing. He could have won the fight without killing. Or at least actually obtained Zeref’s aid against Acnologia. After all, August being his son gave Zeref something to fight for that was worth more than himself. The Black Wizard’s last thoughts were a confusing mess. The knowledge that he needed to die, lest he killed August like he had Mavis. And the desire to make sure that Acnologia died first so that August could live.
A suicidal immortal would have been a wonderful tool to hold back Acnologia and use as a human shield. And because he had acted too quickly he had lost such a valuable piece. Arthur couldn’t help but note that there was no winning. And he couldn’t help but hope that his willingness to think of people as tools was a side-effect of his recent meal, even as he had the itching feeling it was not.
After all, he was already using his Takeover Magic to re-write the two books that Zeref had left behind. He wasn’t delving deep enough to do more than a few tweaks, but well rewriting who they had eternal loyalty to was simple enough while being rather impactful. He’d need to do a more thorough and deeper job, or they’d inevitably go mad from the conflict of their past and total construction pushing them towards Zeref and the slapdash scratching out of Zeref’s name in only a few key places to write his own, but it would do until after the fight with Acnologia.
August watched the battle with baited breath. He had never told Zeref of their relationship. He had assumed that Zeref knew. August’s own magic had told him even when he was a newborn child. He had always known. He had spent his long life seeking to earn the approval of his cold, distant, and aloof father. And all it would have taken was to tell him. To inform him of their relationship.
But Zeref learned it only when facing potential death. No. August recognized it as what it was. It had been a tactic of psychological warfare. An attempt to throw Zeref’s mental balance off. It was a decent tactic.
August wanted to rush to his father. To finally feel his father’s love. But the waves of death were coming out, pushing beyond the throne room, and even at this distance he and the other Spriggans were not truly safe.
At this range his magic could ward off Zeref’s death curse, but Zeref had not lost control of his curse to this extent since Mavis’s death. And there it had been directed and absorbed by a single immortal being.
August knew, though, that from here, at this unfocused level the curse was less of a danger than his fellow Spriggans. Larcade was glaring at him. The pale haired etherious was hugging his knees to his chest, his eyes wide as he gnawed on his arm and glared at August. As the second to last of Zeref’s etherious, and the second closest to a perfect replication of life, Larcade had always seen himself as Zeref’s son. August could sympathize with him. Both of them had lived their entire lives seeking nothing more than Zeref’s approval and love.
But August had gotten both. If Zeref died here, then his last act would be a demonstration of how much he had really cared for his son by blood. Larcade had always presented himself as Zeref’s son, but Zeref had never loved him in this way. Never had his curse so much as twinged for Larcade’s sake. It was proof that he was unloved. That like the other etherious he was an expendable tool.
And then the curse had spent its offensive power, and the Northern Mage was moving. Even before August had noticed the movement it was over. The mage was biting into his father’s throat, their blade plunged hilt deep through his heart. It was a wound to kill any mortal man. But Zeref had and would recover from worse than that.
If it didn’t kill him. He had seen Arthur reverse Irene’s dragonification. August had told Zeref that he was confident that if Arthur said that they could kill Zeref with his sword that there was a large chance of success. He had also told Zeref to accept the mage’s offer to help find a cure.
Zeref had not listened to him. Just as he had refused to take this chance to end Acnologia and use his curse for one last act of good. He had been given the bait he desired. A chance to end it all.
And as August watched his father’s body slide from the sword, he couldn’t help but cry. He couldn’t face the Northern Mage right now. If he did he would attack him. And the man didn’t deserve that. He had simply given Zeref what August never had been able to; he had fulfilled Zeref’s wish.
August could eventually forgive him for that. The Wizard King was old and understood himself well enough to know that. But he would need a few minutes to calm his rage enough to help him. It was Zeref’s last promise. He would serve his new emperor loyally. And someday he would no longer resent him for what he had done. But that day was not today.
And beside him Larcade howled for the mage’s head, demanding the chance to kill him. Bloodman’s hand fell on his shoulder. “He is our master now. Our maker declared it so.”
“Never!” Larcade hissed, turning on his fellow etherious and striking him, beginning to pull together his power to use his white arts of pleasure.
August sighed. “Larcade, cease this now. We will follow the emperor’s last wishes.” He might not be allowed to meditatively contemplate his rage and come to terms with it after all. He could at least take it out on Larcade if the etherious did not desist.
It was still sinking into Arthur what he had done by the time August and the other Spriggans had returned. August led the way, and Arthur could only imagine what was running through his head right now. He had lived his whole life seeking his father’s love, and doing everything he could to see his father’s dreams realized. And Arthur had just murdered his father while he watched, and it was his father’s last command that Arthur was now his emperor. The fact that Zeref’s dream had been for his own death could only leave those feelings complicated.
It didn’t feel real. He’d won too easily. Things had gone too well according to plan. He kept trying to suss out what sort of illusion Zeref had trapped him in. It seemed more likely than he had won without some other boot dropping.
When he glanced at the struck out failed bounties on his bounty board things felt better. Not only was it unlikely that Zeref was aware of them to replicate, the fact that he had failed the extremely lucrative - and as one of the few still at its original value insanely so at this point - bounty to join the Spriggan 12 was reassuring. It was another boot dropping. He should have asked Zeref to make him a Spriggan before the battle.
But he had rushed. He’d not thought things through. He’d refused to hesitate. The fact that he had messed up big by missing that was strangely comforting. It meant he was in reality and not some twisted dream.
And then there were the two etherious. He’d re-written them. He’d done the same with Keyes. It was more than killing them. It was personality editing. Anti-Life. He told himself they weren’t human. That they were just demons. That their personalities had been written out by Zeref. But Natsu had grown from his base, and continued to develop. They could go beyond what was written.
He told himself that they were mass murderers made to draw power from killing. But he’d looked at just a little too much of Larcade’s book to believe that. Bloodman was mostly what Zeref had written: a sophisticated artificial being made for the purpose of slaughter. Larcade’s ability to grow his book far more than any of the demons of Tartaros. He had grown, risen from childhood to adult, and developed a fully blossomed and free-forming personality, only shaped by Zeref’s writing. He was almost human, and really he was a person.
Still a mass murdering sadist. But he wasn’t a mass murdering sadist because he was some robot made out of ethernano given pseudo-flesh. He was a mass murdering sadist because he’d done his best to be what he thought Zeref wanted. He was a mass murdering sadist out of his earnest desire for his father’s love.
It gave Arthur ethical qualms about rewriting him. He’d done so just as thoroughly as with Bloodman, but where he had no qualms about rewriting Bloodman he did with Larcade. With Bloodman he had every intention to at least remove the passages designed to force him into being a murderous sadist dedicated to spreading fear and suffering. You wouldn’t think twice about reprogramming a chatbot that kept trying to convince people using it to commit murder. He couldn’t reprogram Bloodman to be a fully free-growing person. But he could at least help him be a less dangerous tool.
Where did the line fall between person and convincing fake? And where did the line fall for a person’s behavior to justify him re-writing it to his will? Was that ever ethical? Arthur didn’t know. But he had the sinking feeling that if his journeys lasted long enough he’d have to figure out sooner or later.
Despite the time crunch they were under, Arthur was glad the Spriggans had taken their time to get here. It’d let him finish puking first.
“My liege, we are at your disposal,” August said, bowing deeply. “As our emperor, whatever you need we shall perform. Since I believe time is of the essence, your coronation can be planned later and I can begin gathering the Spriggans if you believe there is time, or else we can take only those who are already here?”
“Only four of you are any useful for this fight. Five counting Irene,” Arthur said. He’d had plenty of time to think about this. Jacob couldn’t do anything to Acnologia. The guy who resurrected the dead from people’s memories might be able to help if someone was killed, but he wasn’t worth pausing to track down. Dimaria’s age seal was a liability which was worse than useless against an enemy who was certainly stronger than her god.
August’s sheer power and skill could pull something out that might hurt Acnologia. Irene was the first dragon slayer. Bloodman and Larcade were etherious. They were physically capable enough to be relevant against a dragon even if it would be suicide on their parts to actually fight Acnologia that way. And Wall Eehto’s machina could fire non-magic projectiles; even if Acnologia proved immune to his Weakness magic, he could be of use.
“Five, my liege?” August asked.
Arthur nodded. “Any other members of the Spriggan 12 would be a liability in this battle. And since four of you are here, let’s take this to Edolas. The main force is assembled there. Wall, how many puppet bodies can you manipulate, and how far away can you do so from your main body?”
Arthur hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. He couldn’t read August at all. The wizard king could be hoping to betray Arthur or ensure that he died on the battlefield. Bloodman was impassive and bowing readily enough. Wall Eehto’s puppet was beyond Arthur’s ability to read. And Larcade was glaring daggers at him; hate filling his eyes. Arthur only hoped that he couldn’t bring himself to do otherwise than serve loyally. Maybe he should leave all the Spriggans behind.
But he’d fought for them, killed for them, and if he left them behind that would just be an empty, pointless murder. Besides, he thought he could trust August. It could be said to be Zeref’s dying wish. August would respect that. Wall might abandon the fight, but he was unlikely to sabotage it. Bloodman he thought was well controlled. Larcade…
“Actually wait, four. Bringing Larcade would be the same as executing him,” Arthur said.
The etherious’s face scrunched in rage. He really did look like he could be Natsu’s older brother. “How dare you! I was Zeref’s finest creation. I have always been the one who will kill Acnologia for him!”
“Dragons are highly resistant to magic as a rule. Those who wield dragon slayer magic, such as dragons, are highly resistant to what they consume. Acnologia is a dragon that eats magic as a whole. Even if he can’t just resist your magic based upon desires, he can eat it and at that point all you’re doing is empowering him.”
“He can’t eat anything if he’s sleeping the sleep of death,” Larcade protested.
“I don’t have time for this backtalk,” Arthur said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. Him, August, Wall, and Bloodman vanished leaving Larcade alone with Ajeel. He had just burnt a bridge and he knew it, but at the moment Arthur was too concerned with other things to care. He needed to reach Acnologia before Acnologia reached Maximus lest the death toll rose unacceptably. And he needed to do it before the stress of the whole situation made him shutdown completely.