The next problem was actually putting Minimine and Kalender in the same room. This was Luceria’s role.

Both incarnations of Minimine had to merge together first. They both had the power to do so, but it stands to reason that only one of them would actually do it—but Luceria needed to deliver this proposal to Pebble Minimine before it could even be considered.

After that, they needed to disarm the Insane so that the Pebble may merge with her.

Not only that, but they needed to do it as close as possible to the Temple of Minimine so they could bring the merged Minimine there as fast as possible.

She needed to brave the mythical battlefield located just sixty kilometers west of Clarinets. The hilly terrain diffused the sound, but not the rumbling.

Under a deep violet sky, where gargantuan trunks that wore green, imperial crowns once rooted themselves so deep that the earth could not do without them, they were now obstacles and pyrolyzed debris. A constant layer of smog floated over a hilly landscape of white and grey flakes. From the bowels of cuts in the earth left by giants, clawed out creatures who sought the freedom of the sky. Craters that should have only been found on the moon instantaneously appeared and disappeared, the hum of expansion and collapse lagging behind the sight of it.

Bury the dead deep enough, and they cannot rise. Earth magics turned the soil into a burial ground. Water and fire magics turned the forest’s ashes into concrete tombs. Arrows and gunfire rained in the hundreds, and lightning coursed through legion and abomination.

Even through the dead of night, and even as the new day broke, the fighting never ceased.

Pebble and Insanity stood at the focuses of an elliptical battlefield, unleashing Heroes and pawns, listless and ferocious. There were ten kilometers between them, and the combat spanning five kilometers abreast. In the eyes of the divine, they may as well be in arms’ reach.

Opposites attract. Pebble stood still, while Insanity pushed against the shields and swords of the souls of legend.

“She’s doing it again!” an old wizard shouted.

Insanity brandished two daggers and mud-and-charcoal skin to fight against twenty of the strongest Heroes. She was but a child, and the child picked up a rock. Her black-and-red hair streamlined into a jet’s tail as she threw it. A shield bearer rushed in front of her comrades and received the driven mass. The explosion left a conical crater in front of where the shield bearer once stood, and it threw her back a hundred meters, sending her tumbling, rolling, and coming to a stop two hundred meters more. Between her and the fight was left a line of settling dust.

She looked down at her tower shield. Cracks ran in four directions. There goes the Aegis Shield, she thought. She picked herself up and carried the shield on a sling across her chest. She may have been thrown 300 meters out of the fight, but she was still in the combat zone. Moreover, the blacksmith was still nine kilometers that way. That gal could repair her shield—and every other legendary weapon any of the resurrected Heroes had. At least that much was needed to forestall the inevitable.

She heard a familiar thudding, and she turned around to watch one of her comrades bouncing off the ground and come rolling to a stop just a bit past her, all wrapped up in his blue cape. The man disentangled himself and stood up. He looked at the hilt of his sword. It was just the hilt left.

“I think I saw the blade fly that way,” the shield bearer remarked.

The sword wielder grumbled. “Mind helping me out?”

“We need shields more than swords,” she replied. “I gotta get back sooner rather than later. Sorry.”

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The sword wielder grumbled, but in understanding. The two split off in a mad sprint. That casual conversation cost them a precious few seconds. If Insanity had even an inkling of rationality left, she could as well punish them for being three seconds too lax.

As the shield bearer sprinted, punting away the low-leveled undead that happened to be in her path, she noticed someone sprinting alongside her.

“Luceria!” she shouted and waved. The grey blur started closing in, eventually running up beside her.

“Anarel,” Luceria replied. “Broken shield again?”

“Always with the damned rocks.” Anarel laughed. “It was just one shot this time…”

The Aegis Shield, famed for being able to withstand even divine attacks, was getting done in by thrown rocks. At first, she could take a few hits before a little crack would appear. Now, the shield itself would be left on the verge of breaking after just one casual toss.

Even thrown sand had enough kinetic energy to turn into molten glass mid-air from pure air friction before decimating an advance.

She continued, “How about you? How went the mission?”

“We may have a way out of this deadlock,” Luceria replied. “We will need one last push, however.”

It’s almost over? If Anarel could breathe a sigh of relief, she would. Sprinting at superhuman speeds tended not to let one do that, however.

***

Pebble stood upon a hill overseeing the battlefield. A soft halo of rainbow wrapped around her, who took the same form of a child as Insanity. There was a flash, the sight of a massive explosion, and the shockwave leaving her rags and silver hair fluttering in the wind.

That was the first time such destructive magic was used. Those in Clarinets should have heard it.

As the thrown soil rained back down, little still did she move, and neither did she even open her eyes. The falling soil bounced off the rainbow wrapped around her.

“Goddess,” Luceria called. Still without opening her eyes, Pebble turned around. Luceria continued. “Kalender proposes a solution—”

“Alright,” Pebble replied with a soft voice that seemingly made the concepts of her words glow in front of her mouth.

Luceria waited, but that was it. She just … agreed. “But you haven’t even heard my explanation—”

“We are losing. No choices,” Pebble replied. “What do I do?”

Luceria sighed. She’d prepared a whole spiel and predicted at least 200 different ways her arguments and counterarguments could have gone just to convince this Pebble to move. All wasted.

“Merge with the Insane,” she said. “But first, we will bring the battlefield closer to one of your temples, about fifty kilometers east of here. It is located close to a town where Kalender is staying. This, and whereupon—”

Pebble held up a hand. “Say no more. Accomplish your part.”

“Right.” Luceria turned around. “I will have the other Heroes move the battlefield. I must return to Clarinets to meet with Kalender and his group.”

Pebble simply turned around, once again facing the battlefield where tactical nuclear magic was being unleashed underground to dig graves.

***

Together with fifty other Heroes, Anarel returned to the frontline against Insanity. It was finally going to be the last push.

The Heroes that were already engaged were surprised to see almost half of the resurrected Heroes together in one place. Moreover, they could feel Pebble moving into the forest. No doubt, Insanity could feel this, too.

“Pebble-me! Where are you going? Come here and play! Bring Kalender to me! Let’s all play together!”

She kicked off and cut through two sword wielders, destroying their swords and cutting their hands off. She slammed into a third, impaling herself into the warrior’s sword. She flashed a crazed smile before cutting up the poor Hero just like that. She removed the sword from her stomach and switched to a new target—something more fun, maybe? Kalender should really be here! It’s so fun!

The group’s healer sighed and reattached any severed limbs and resurrected anyone who wasn’t dead for more than a minute. If they weren’t being supplied with mana from Pebble, they wouldn’t have lasted this long.

“We have a final strategy! We’re bringing the battlefield east!” Anarel shouted. “The goddess is already heading there!”

It’s finally going to be over, they all thought.

The sword and spear wielders herded Insanity, suggesting her movement with every swipe and thrust.

The shield bearers received her blows, cracking their shields, their bones, their fists.

The archers, the riflemen, and even the slingers, too, made themselves appear weak, attacked her, and drew her ire as she made for a mad dash to cut them down—only for the shield bearers to have their bones crushed behind their shields, and the swords and spears to suggest that she advance sideways once more.

All the zombies—the death knights, the liches, the skeletons, and the ghouls—clawed their way out of the pits and ravines of the battlefield left behind. The Heroes’ rear guard rained hell in fiery waves, but legion was legion, and the Heroes were not. To cut down a few was to awaken as many, and more behind them, and more thereafter.