Facing fifty copyettes in close proximity to the emperor was bad enough. The fact that all of them were overseers went beyond even Dallion’s expectations. He should have foreseen it! The way in which they could freely move about the city without the fear of leaving any hints was a giant red flag. Being a new domain ruler, Dallion hadn’t given the matter much thought, but in retrospect, it was obvious.
For one overseer to be a copyette, all of them had to be—at least all the important ones. The time and effort that had been put into this was mind boggling. The Order must have started its plan way back during the first days of the empire, or maybe even before that. The copyette that had impersonated Euryale had put it quite well—they hadn’t replaced individuals, but entire families throughout the centuries. And it wasn’t the case just here. It likely was the same in all seats of power, at least back when there were other countries. The archbishop really controlled the entire world from behind the scenes.
A vortex of spell circles surrounded one of the overseers—a young woman with long platinum hair tied in a ponytail. The spell was too intricate for any human, bearing the hallmarks of original copyette magic. Pan had already initiated the next step in Dallion’s plan—show a copyette for what it was worth. The result was just what anyone would expect.
Aware that the charade was over, all copyettes ignored the “invaders” and charged straight at the emperor. None of them bothered to keep their humanoid form, taking on the native slime-like appearance of their race.
The imperial guard didn’t pause to respond. Although being mere level eighties, they had the equipment and experience to face monsters far greater than themselves. Dozens of combined attacks followed, as half of them clashed with the attackers, while the other half tried to form a living wall around the ruler. The generals also sprung into action, artifact weapons appearing in their hands.
“Guard the nobles!” Dallion ordered Pan, as four copyettes summoned living armor, becoming twenty-foot-tall embodiments of metalins. One flew up to attack Dallion directly, while three others headed to the emperor and his generals.
Where are the golems when you need them? Dallion burst into instances.
The copyettes must have somehow meddled with the orders given to the constructs for them to remain outside of the arena structure, as if forbidden to approach.
Magic symbols formed on the six-foot-wide blade as the armored copyette thrust it at Dallion engaging in a fierce multi attack. The speed was on par with Dallion, forcing him to fly back as he parried the strikes with his two weapons. Spell circles formed on either side, intensifying the attacks.
Knowing the weakness of his enemy, Dallion summoned the de-manasing spell he had learned during his trial in the Purple Moon’s realm. Bolts of lightning shot out, draining the magic of everything they touched.
The living armor’s sword arm froze, then dropped down once the energy keeping it functional was cut off. That didn’t seem to impact the copyette’s fighting capacity one bit. The entire arm was shed off from the shoulder—like the end of a lizard’s tail—and fell upon the people fighting below. In less than a second, a new metal arm materialized, instantly attaching to the missing spot.
A short distance away, the emperor seemed to be doing a lot better. A ray of destruction, twice as strong as anything Dallion could manage, shot through one of the living armors, evaporating it on the spot. The remaining two attempted to use the death of their companion to finish what they had been sent to do, but before they could even reach the legion’s generals, an aether sphere formed around the emperor like a shield.
“Careful!” Dallion shouted as he performed a double spiral attack at the massive armor fighting him. “They’re still overseers!”
The warning should have received a lot more credence. Sadly, it wasn’t. As the double attack threw the living armor hundreds of feet back in the sky, the emperor’s protective sphere shattered. It wasn’t an attack from the surface that had shattered it, however, but the ground itself. Hundreds of stone spikes had emerged from the ground, piercing the emperor’s magnificent clothes. The action had shredded more wealth than entire countries had seen throughout their existence.
Dallion had no doubt that every piece of the emperor’s attire was made in such a fashion to protect him from any and all possible attacks. There probably weren’t more powerful artifacts in the entire world, but as had been demonstrated multiple times, nothing was infallible. Magic threads containing hundreds of illusion spells were wrapped around each of the spikes, forcing even the extraordinary to become as common as clay. The vast majority had no doubt fizzled out, countered by the clothes’ effects, but enough hadn’t.
TAMIN III
Health: 0%
Traits:
- AWAKENING 120
- BODY 120
- MIND 120
- REACTION 120
- PERCEPTION 120
- EMPATHY 120
- MAGIC 120
Skills
- ATTACK
- GUARD
- ATHLETICS
- ACROBATICS
- FORGING
- CARVING
- ARTS
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- SCHOLAR
- MUSIC
- HERBALISM
- ZOOLOGY
- SPELLCRAFT
Weakness: UNKNOWN
A purple rectangle flashed briefly, just enough for Dallion to see that the attack had achieved its purpose. The archbishop’s plotting had finally succeeded. Or had it? The original plan involved Abla taking over. The emperor didn’t have any direct heirs, so the line of succession didn’t matter, not when Abla was the strongest remaining noble within the empire. While he couldn’t measure up to the emperor, once he became ruler, he’d command the same amount of troops and would be the perfect fit for an ally. All that Dallion needed to do was make sure that he survived long enough.
“Protect Abla!” he shouted.
A black sphere surrounded the emperor, blocking everything from view. It didn’t give off a sensation of void matter. One possibility was that the copyettes were planning to replace him here and now. That could prove more difficult than one might imagine, though. Copyettes could do a lot of things, copying levels greater than their own remained out of reach.
MAJOR WOUND
Your health has been reduced by 50%
The living armor sword flew through tens of Dallion’s instances, landing in the noble-packed stands. The aether walls that Pan had created merely managed to slow it down, leading to the death of hundreds.
“Damn you!” Dallion hissed. He wanted to charge at the copyette who had done this, but it was more vital that he keep Abla alive.
The duke, like all the nobles, was out of commission—scores of magic threads attached to him to power the domain’s shell. Right now, he was little more than a puppet of a dead puppet master.
REALM RESTORED
Shell integrity 5%
A rectangle flickered before disappearing again. The barrier had been recreated, separating Euryale from events on the ground. That was a good thing, although it also meant she’d be on her own, stopping any potential rockets that rained down from the sky.
Another living armor emerged on the copyette’s side. Despite significant losses, the imperial guards had managed to stop the overall copyette advance, slashing the enemy’s number by half. The generals were also doing a rather good job, five of them taking on a living armor like ants fighting a hornet.
“I can’t keep this up forever,” Pan said, casting protective layer after protective layer on the ground. At present, he was the only thing keeping the Order’s copyettes from using the realm of the city as a ball of clay.
The mass of slime on the ground suddenly doubled. Aware that they couldn’t win in a direct competition of skill, the creatures were making an attempt to overrun the guards with volume. Each copyette cloned into two, then four, then eight.
“Abla!” Dallion sent out a targeted music attack, snapping half of the magic threads connecting the noble to the realm.
There was no time to repeat the attack. A living armor was already flying towards Abla, forcing Dallion to engage it mid-flight.
An explosive clash thundered as the two of them slammed into each other.
MINOR WOUND
Your health has been reduced by 5%
The pain passed through Dallion’s body, barely lingering behind. His opponent suffered significantly worse. The cracklings that had been clinging onto Dallion till now leaped onto the sky silver armor sinking their fangs in. Miniature cracks appeared all over the glistening surface. It didn’t end there. In less than a second, the pack merged together, forming the massive body of Nox. Eyes and mouths covered the large black silhouette as the puma bit into the armor’s neck.
An inhuman scream of terror split the air, as the copyette within the armor was devoured by Dallion’s familiar. Despite all the cracks seeming shallow, they continued further in, going into the core of the armor. Once they came into contact with the slime, it could be said it was already too late.
The living armor flew up into the air, struggling to shake off the crackling puma, but to no avail.
Good one, Nox! Dallion thought as he hovered an inch from the ground beside Abla.
“Abla,” he said, slicing through the remaining magic threads with one clean strike. “Snap out of it.”
The duke blinked, sapience slowly returning to his glance.
“The emperor’s dead,” Dallion said, dozens of instances keeping watch in case of other surprise attacks. “Can you fight?”
“Yes…” Hesitation filled Abla’s voice. “I don’t have my gear. They took it before the ceremony.”
Of course they did. Dallion cursed internally. Abla’s dragon sword would have come quite handy right now.
Dallion made an arc strike with his aura sword, casting five spells. Most of them covered the duke with large chunks of aether armor. The last summoned his whip blade.
“Gleam, take care of him,” Dallion handed the weapon to Abla.
Sure. The shardfly replied in a disappointed voice, then instantly contracted as she was held by the duke.
“Who are we fighting?” Abla split into instances, one of them examining the blade he was given. Emanations of doubt emanated from him.
“Anything that attacks you,” Dallion replied.
A part of the guard cordon collapsed as several copyettes simultaneously expanded, shooting out tentacles of slime in all directions. The attack caused more injury than death, but forced the people to move away in an effort to evade it, creating an opening in the defense.
Damn it! Dallion summoned a clay cylinder.
Alas, there was no position from which to use it. Releasing a ray of destruction would burn through thousands of nobles, continuing on into the city. There was the option of downing another living armor, which was what he ultimately did, scorching a hole that took out half its body.
There was no moment for cheer. Two armors remained, not to mention close to twenty copyettes pouring towards the central part of the structure like a tidal wave. Pan kept on casting spells by the dozen, yet with all the attention focused on him, he was more focused on defense. The wave kept advancing until they reached a legion general.
The man attempted combined athletic, guard, attack, and arts in an attempt to slow the enemy’s progress, but was quickly overwhelmed. Slime tentacles pierced through him, causing more damage that any person could recover from.
Just then, the black sphere surrounding the emperor exploded. Dozens of purple rays of light blasted out into the open. Not in the least concerned with collateral damage, the rays burned through copyettes and humans alike as well as the arena structure beyond it.
Seeing the threat, Dallion reacted instantly, grabbing Abla and flying up into the air, where the rays were a lot more sparse.
“What the—” The duke didn’t manage to finish his question.
Dallion couldn’t say a word, either, staring at a practical impossibility. Below them, in the spot where the black sphere had been, standing on crushed spikes of stone and magic, was the emperor and he didn’t seem in the least bit wounded.