Alexander was jolted awake to the sounds of crackling fire and distant warfare. A part of him mistakenly thought he was transported back into his seventeen-year-old self, when XS-16 had been set ablaze by the orcs. What was the count this time? When Hangzhou haunted him again? One-thousandth? Ten-thousandth? The Disaster liked to walk into his dreams and turn them into nightmares, altering his memories into surreal amalgamations of fact and fiction. Sometimes they liked to speak to him during the day, forcing him to relieve the time an ocean away.
But he was certain this was the Ordo Disaster. For one he was wearing the [Silver Demon Bodysuit] that the Graylords had repurposed for him; secondly there were weapons strapped onto his waist. Stuff he didn’t have in Hangzhou—yup, this was Ordo alright.
Ordo, his home for four years so he could attend Ordo University, get a good job with his degree and pay for Althea’s education with Uncle Ali, then live a calm and peaceful life.
What the fuck happened to that.
“Shit…” Alexander groaned and scrambled onto his ass, sitting up and glancing around at his surroundings. Flames had settled into buildings and burning them black from the inside out. Some were bonfires on the streets and sidewalks. As his vision swept, his neck stung bad. Everything hurt like Alexander had decided to go on a twenty-four hour workout binge.
The concussive force from the fractured [Infused Spirit Core] had ripped through him. Had it blown up any closer then he was certain he’d be gallivanting around in the afterlife. That thing was powered by numerous high-grade weapons and items, and probably was the first cosmically-enhanced item in history, depending on if it was made before or after Catalyst’s [Sacrifice].
He patted the [Red Barrier Brooch] he carried with him. The gem was broken but it’d protected him this far. Considering everything, he got off lucky.
A realization hit him hard, then.
He wasn’t the only one here.
“Jack, Shielder?!” he called for them, knowing that they were right next to him when the shell went off.
He climbed onto his feet and underestimated the severity of the damage. He fell, almost cracked his head open on the pavement and was saved when his arm darted out instinctively. On the ground again, he hissed in frustration while partially drunk on pain. Push through it. As much as he loathed Jackhammer, he was arguably one of the best men that came out of that fucking guild. Without Shielder, they would’ve died multiple times over.
Picking up his head, there were two crumpled bodies a few meters away from him. Bodies, but that didn’t mean corpses. Not yet.
Alexander was half-crawling, pushing off his sore legs like some slug. He reached the first one: a Slayer who wasn’t wearing anything typically unique in the community. Standard armor and a shoulder cape to be flashy about it. A metal bar had impaled him through the chest. He didn’t have a chance.
Shielder was dead, but Alexander couldn’t take his body out of here. Not in this state.
Crawling to the one that had to be Jackhammer, he was surprisingly relieved when the jackass’s chest was rising. Half his face was dripping in blood, and his right foot had a big chunk of sheet metal digging into the sole. He probably had all sorts of other injuries too but Alexander was no doctor. His diagnosis could be summed up as “severely fucked up”.
Couldn’t take the shrapnel out, it’d lead to bleeding. Instead Alexander reached into his [Inventory] and pulled out one of the many [Healing Potions] he had, crawled over to the half-dead jackass and tilted his head up.
Jackhammer groaned, tensing, fists tight like he was about to wake up swinging.
“Easy, don’t knock me out just yet,” Alexander struggled to say as he uncorked the bottle with his teeth and allowed the warm liquid to flow into the Oasis-shithead’s mouth and down the gullet.
Halfway through, Jackhammer coughed up potion-mixed blood and clenched his teeth together which were pinker than a girl’s birthday party. Judging from the cough, it went down the wrong tube. This asshole never made things easy for him.
“Stubborn prick, give me something,” muttered Alexander in a poor attempt to amuse himself. Once the coughing stopped, he began to tip the potion again determined to make him drink the rest, wrong tube or not.
Until a distant stirring was heard punctuating through the flames. Even a second-rate Slayer like him knew that wasn’t help. The opposite; the only help it’d provide was a push off the cliff they were already at the edge of.
Alexander clicked his tongue and chuckled, raising the stupid potion like he was making a toast. “At least you’re not the only asshole here. The world doesn’t know mercy when it comes to me.”
The stirring was getting closer.
“Don’t kick the bucket yet, Jack. You got family back home. They’re the only ones who’d miss a piece of shit like you. Let them bury two coffins, not three.” Alexander forced his hand open and made him hold onto the potion, then placed another one nearby just in case he needed a second. “Me, on the other hand? Ha, shit! I’m not sure if I’m making it out of this one.”
There was a growl.
[Skill Activation: Certain Shot]
It turned out to be a hound with a flaming tail, but an energy bolt to the skull killed it dead. The barrel of the [Lapaz V] dimmed. Milkor had given him this, let’s hope he and his operators were okay.
In the background of the pistol’s sights, silver eyes narrowed intensely, glowing from the inferno. “I’ll try,” Alexander promised, “I’ll fucking try.”
Alexander ascended to his two shaking legs. They couldn’t hold his weight for long. His left hand, which held the [Lapaz], was jittering crazily on a caffeine high. He doubted he could hit a bullseye one feet away. The air had gotten stuffier, filled with putrid smoke just like back then. His lungs hated it. The burning street he was on—well, it was blurry as shit. His eyes weren’t working right either. As he unsheathed the [Sword of Conquerors] and felt the coarse handle scratch into his right palm, the muscles inside his arm began twitching. Wouldn’t be able to make good cuts.
That was everything his body told him.
He felt like going on a marathon.
From his [Inventory], he plucked a [Relentless Serum] with a few fingers. He’d used this when he killed those Apocalyptics back then, giving him the energy he needed. This would keep him from falling apart for a little bit.
[Your stamina has increased for three minutes!]
[Mana is flooding your system!]
[Due to the extent of your current injuries, the effects of [Relentless Serum] has been reduced.]
“I don't need you to be an asshole too, System.” Still, the sensation that the [Serum] gave was euphoric if you ignore the pain. Easy to get addicted to, but Alexander knew he couldn’t focus on the pleasure.
Not when more of those fucking dogs slithered out from the woodworks, coming from fucking nowhere. A whole pack of them, four. Four dogs with flaming tails. Better odds compared to the Apocalyptics but the fire evened things out.
“Alright…” Alexander took his first steps towards the four. “Come here, mutts!”
When he broke into a sloppy run, so had the dogs. They were faster than he expected. They must love this place. Hot environments were paradise while for him, open fires carried bad memories. Dad had given up his children to walk into the flames, and now his precious son was following in his footsteps.
[Skill Activation: Certain Shot]
Trying to exert himself further in this state was a painful experience. It’d be so much easier to give up and feed the firehounds, but he had so many things he’d yet to accomplish. For once his future seemed so clear, and yet his vision was so blurry.
The firehounds could use their fiery tails as whips. They lashed at him, slashing his arms and legs, his back and torso. A sharp red whirlwind surrounded him and split his skin open, causing blisters and awful welts.
They leapt past his wild and blind swinging, desperate attempts to keep them back while [Certain Shot] was on cooldown, and sunk their hot teeth into him. They got his calf, penetrating through the tough material of the [Silver Demon Bodysuit]—if it wasn’t for the suit, a chunk of his leg would get torn out. They got his arms, puncturing both the [Bodysuit] and [Ironcloth Gauntlets] underneath. One time they almost got his unprotected jugular.
Alexander kicked and battered, swung and shot, crying and wailing. The firehounds were dragging him to Death’s door but he was clawing by his fingernails to escape. No matter how deep their teeth dug or how strong their jaws were, he was going to survive. It’d be bullshit if he died here anyway, getting mauled by random dogs after what he’d been through.
He found an opening after wrestling with the little fuckers for so long. Satisfaction washed over him as he thrusted his sword through the body of one. The sound of an energy bolt cracking skull gave him a psychotic pleasure. And feeling his [Iron Knuckles] bashing bone was something else entirely.
Killing monsters had become a game to him. A way to gauge his own growing strength and intellect. It was proof that he was alive. Each kill cemented his being. Every death was something to analyze and look back on fondly.
It was a sense of progress, and Alexander was happier knowing he was moving one step at a time.
One step at a time, that was what he told himself.
Leaving behind the corpses of the firehounds he killed, he continued down the burning street knowing Kreutz was out there, somewhere. Pain reintroduced itself furiously like a friend betrayed, looming over him. Because of his bitten, bleeding calf, he had a limp in his walk. He had to use the [Sword of Conquerors] as a cane so he wouldn’t fall. His hands were losing their strength. Everything felt wet and warm: blood and the heat.
All he could do was taking things one step at a time.
Just one step at a time.
Don’t think about the end of the road. Be proud when you made it to the broken car. To the fallen lamppost. The mound over there. These small victories were everything. You were winning a hundred times and no one could take that away.
Don’t think about the end of the road. Nothing can stop you, now. Not after you made it this far.
“Get the fuck out of here…” growled Alexander, spotting the next host of monsters crawling from the fringes of the ruins seeing a Slayer on his last legs. He couldn’t really tell what they were but he didn’t care.
They were in his way.
Don’t think about killing Kreutz. As long as you keep adding to your body count, that was a monumental success in itself. Don’t think about anyone else right now. Don’t think about Leona and the other Baptists, don’t think about Seraph and Sage and the high-rankers, don't think about Kosmos and the Slayers beyond the Barrier. There was one person who guaranteed your life, and that was yourself.
In a single arc, the [Sword of Conquerors] slid through flesh as if he’d been doing this for years. In a single moment, he predicted his oppositions’ next moves as if time had slowed down. In a single act, he was victorious in surviving for another step.
Eventually, Alexander’s perception of time disappeared. He was no longer thinking about the minutes or the individual seconds; he was focused on the way his trembling arm moved across the thick air. He was focused on his posture, making sure both his feet were planted and secured like anchors to the ground. He was focused on breathing.
He ignored his growing collage of hurts. An arrow had stuck into his shoulder, the arrowhead just barely piercing the [Bodysuit]. One time, a sword had fractured during a clash and blade-parts flung like shrapnel into him. Everywhere, really, with one piece digging into his cheek. Something had cracked against the back of his head. It was a weak blow but it rang his bell.
Adding them up, it’d be easier to list what wasn’t wrong with him than the opposite.
When a brief moment of clarity took him, he looked over his shoulder and saw his path was laid with monster carcasses illuminated crimson orange from the fires around. Dozens of carcasses. None of this felt real. He couldn’t remember any individual kills, only knowing that he had brought the sword down or pulled the trigger or dirtied his knuckles, however method. It seemed dreamlike, hypnagogic.
What woke him up to reality was a far-off rumble. The fires ahead of him shivered in fear of what was coming from the wreckage. Strangely enough, his heart was as still as pond-water. Maybe because he’d experienced so many emotions throughout the counteroffensive that he was all out of them. Maybe because he no longer saw Kreutz as this impossible-to-defeat threat, simply as another obstacle in his journey.
Alexander had a devious grin once a familiar silhouette rose from the smoke.
The Lesser Caller had woken from its dream too.
It hovered about fifty meters away but he could make out the finer details. The spike-ball head had been fractured and split open, a majority of the spines gone or snapped. They barely moved like a dying sea urchin. The ribbons that it’d used to kill hundreds of lives were torn, swaying as weathered curtains. Black glittery ichor drenched its gray body, pouring endlessly from whatever wounds Alexander couldn’t see.
Kreutz was as fucked up as he was. That made two of them.
“It’s over, Kreutz,” Alexander declared triumphantly although he was one to talk. “Archknell and Firebrand killed the Lesser Watcher and Cutter. We gave the Tormented Flesh the peace it deserves, we mercifully killed the Fragment you created. We built a Superweapon to put Ikeya and Wonder down, and we almost did the same to you. You’re the only one left. Your Cosmic Beasts will be put in the grave at any moment now.
“You failed to kill Kosmos, you failed to destroy Ordo, you failed to kickstart the apocalypse. And I won’t go down easy—it’s just you and me now, motherfucker!”
“…On the contrary, Singularity Starblight. The Great Kreutz, servant to the Starking, persists in purposes singular. A pawn’s ignorance on the board, a master’s wisdom on the strings. As you, human in the cosmos, know-nothing insignificants. Conqueror of this world, hear of the soldier’s lords and despair!
“Aldebaran Lyriel, the Paradiso Ruler! Procyon LIGHT, the Innocence Logos! And the Starking, Sirius Aethfell, the revived Dragon King! Alexander Shen, rescue it if you must! Protect it as you will! Fragments to be vanquished, enemies to overcome!
“Zeroth Constellation, further than he! Kosmos, finish what he had not! Conqueror, repent and redeem oneself! Had you lived to see a day beyond present! To the last, the leader of the Kreutz Sungrazers seek accomplishment of a particular goal: your death, price irrelevant!”
Alexander, in this pathetic match, cracked a devilish grin and pointed his [Sword of Conquerors] towards the last of the Kreutz Sungrazers. “Try it.”
“You—!
[100% Mana Impact Sprint]
Alexander knew the price of using [Mana Impact] at [100%]. His mana was abysmally low to continuously fire off full impact uses. In his health? His Krait hated it. It pulsed horrifically, sending nerves of severe pain electrifying his body almost to the point of paralysis. Further overuse could kill him or destroy his mana nervous system. But he needed to kill Kreutz.
At a full [100% Mana Impact Sprint], where every step was boosted by a spur of mana when his foot hit the ground, he rushed down the street, pistol in one hand and a sword in the other. The [Lapaz] fired aimlessly towards Kreutz’s general direction, hitting once or twice on target but even an A-Rank weapon like this was ineffective regardless. That thing had too high of a defense and a pistol didn’t pack much power in the first place. Not at this range.
Locking his teeth together, the first of the ribbons curved. They sounded less than whips. Instead, rather, as thick industrial wires. Alexander observed them and his mind clicked together, working out the physics, and his legs followed his intuition.
Kreutz cleaved through burning buildings, smashing out pillars and walls, and Alexander sprinted through destruction. He avoided getting crushed, hearing and seeing the block falling around him. He avoided getting slashed through the waist, avoiding the ribbons through prediction and a lot of luck.
All he needed to do was get up close and comfortable with Kreutz.
But there was one problem.
Alexander was only an E-Rank Pseudo-Slayer. Pseudos had a reduced mana system compared to the real deal, and low-rankers did not output the power needed to subjugate a cosmic-level entity.
In the first heartbeats of the fight, you really could call it beginner’s luck that he survived this long.
All it took was a single ribbon to end his advance. He saw it coming and skidded on his feet like a car suddenly slamming on the brakes. A few meters closer and he would’ve met death, but the ribbon grazed him.
That was all it took: just a single graze. Perhaps not even that. It was the wind pressure generated from the lash, sharp like Tewfik’s. A breeze killed him.
Alexander was plucked from his feet and carried into the air by an invisible hand, twirling around and around as blood soared with him—his blood. Flashes of the scenery. Skeletons of businesses and residences, flames and hellfires, blood and more blood. He crashed onto his back, rolled more times than he could count.
This time, his body refused to listen.
He couldn’t get up.
The power difference was too large, sort of like trying to jump across the Grand Canyon with your two legs alone.
“Guh… Gah…” Alexander gasped, clutching his torso. So much blood was pouring out. He patted his stomach and felt a small relief that his intestines hadn’t crawled out of him. But death was only a few feet away.
“Foolish,” Kreutz stated and it sure as hell wasn’t incorrect. “Feared you are, weak presently. Uproot the sapling whose destiny a great tree.”
Alexander groaned as a response. Shadows crept from the corners of his eyes, slowly consuming his vision. His body felt cold as though he’d been thrusted into a freezer. It hurt. Everything hurt so much. Could someone end his pain right now? Could someone kill him and let him be done with this shit?
He had enough.
He had enough…
“Your death blesses all your foes.”
“Ah…” he muttered, remembering why he was like this.
Not yet. Not fucking yet. He could die later, but he had one last thing left to do on his bucket list. Kill him tomorrow, kill him an hour from now, see if he cared. This, though, let him do this.
The world had fucked him over so many times before. Hangzhou, High Home, and now Ordo. Ever since he became a man, his life as a young adult was riddled with struggle after struggle. He was blessed with genius but treated like a pariah.
You can’t expect anything from the world, though. Complain all you want, but who do you think will hear you? Christ? A savior who knows you as far as you yearn to be understood? Someone who wants exactly what you want?
This world is awful, so what are you going to do about it?
Stolen novel; please report.
You had to change things yourself.
Life will kick you down. Your enemies will kick you down. Even pebbles will trip you up because of the weight on your shoulders.
But as long as you kept standing, then that made the difference.
You didn't want to sacrifice yourself, you wanted to live. So then, keep living.
This was Alexander’s answer. It had been his answer for a long time.
“So I will take what’s mine,” he whispered. “Did you hear that, System? I’ll take what’s mine, so give me it.”
[Conditions Met]
An explosion was felt throughout the Slayer Capital reaching the farthest edges. Was it the Sungrazers again? the Ordoians asked themselves. They clamored outside, raced to the windows, stepped out onto the rooftops. There, no matter where they were, a silver pillar of energy had reached the clouds and touched the ceiling of the Ordo Outbreak Barrier. The golden dome shook and the sound of it echoed throughout.
This wasn't caused by a Sungrazer. It wasn't caused by any singular monster either, not like the Void God. A human had done this. A human just like them, who only wanted to bring tonight to its finale.
"Alex...?" Leona muttered in awe while the rest of the Dawn Baptists behind her had stopped.
“What the hell is that?” Victor asked in a mild panic. “Is Alex really doing that shit...? How?”
“It’s obvious,” Problem replied. “He’s undergoing a phenomenon that almost everyone dreams about.”
In another part of the city, the high-rankers which had subjugated Wonder were astounded by the sheer energy emission. This was nothing like the previous cases recorded. No one matched this intensity.
“Oh Lord,” Seraph said to herself. "Alexander, you've...!"
[SLAYER SYSTEM ALERT]
Second Emergence Protocol is complete.
According to the Second Emergence Protocol, you have abandoned your status as a Pseudo-Slayer and emerged as an official Slayer defending your world from threats lurking in the multiverse.
Your true potential is revealed.
[Projected Growth Potential: D6 → EX]
[Projected Power: C4 → EX]
[Projected Constitution: C1 → EX]
[Projected Agility: D7 → EX]
[Projected Magick: D3 → EX]
Congratulations, Conqueror, for experiencing a Second Emergence!
Due to the current situation, you will be informed of your new responsibilities at a later date. After the Second Emergence ends, you will undergo the transformation process of becoming a full Slayer.
[The skill [Still-Standing Bastion] has developed into [Bastion of Dawn]!]
[Skill]
Bastion of Dawn [SSS]
You will protect everyone you love. That is a promise. After receiving a near-death experience and completing a Second Emergence, automatically increase all attributes to S1 for seven minutes and forty-three seconds.
This skill is immediately destroyed after the duration is over.
[Skill Activation: Bastion of Dawn]
Emerging from the silver pillar was Alexander Shen, who had found the strength in himself to rise. His wounds were engulfed by a potent white glow and blood began to evaporate from his skin and clothes. His eyes narrowed, trailing with energy. His teeth slammed together, locked there because he was feeling the most amount of pissed in his life.
“Kreutz…” growled Alexander, standing at the center of the fiery road as the final adversary of the long night hovered at the end, “…I will kill you.”
Archknell had ascended to an SSS-Rank Slayer moments before his death. From experiencing an abrupt increase in an entire rank, especially from SS to SSS, the pain alone could inflict such torment in ways not even a sadist could imagine. And Alexander had temporarily ascended to an S-Rank as a low-ranker.
So it fucking hurt.
The only thing stronger than the pain was his burning desire to kill this Comet.
Kreutz was wary, inching back. It was afraid of him.
Afraid of Conqueror.
“I will…” Alexander stomped forward, creating a crater from the single step alone, “...I will end you, Kreutz!”
Knowing this was true, ribbons came.
Alexander smiled.
[100% Mana Impact Sprint]
He was faster now, so much faster than before. His mind accelerated and everything attained this sort of indescribable clarity that gifted him an enviable perception of reality. He knew where the ribbons would land—he knew he could avoid them.
In the wake, craters were left by his mad dash towards his enemy. Silver flashes of mana clashed with vibrant colors against the black and ever-changing gradient of the Lesser Caller. Soon, the pursuit was taken off the ground. The Slayer leapt onto the walls of buildings, used them as launchboards to keep his path unpredictable. Kreutz panicked and carried itself further down the blaze caused by the [Spirit Core], ribbons raining from the crimson sky but none had yet to end him.
The streak of furious silver was a predator on the hunt.
Kreutz flattened surrounding buildings, creating a wall of flaming debris and smothering black smoke reaching for blocks all around. Then ribbons entered, thinking the lack of visibility would catch him.
It did not. He emerged from the smoke unscathed barring his previous grievances, having navigated the darkness, seeking to topple the inhuman monstrosity.
“Futile!” cried Kreutz, but it was not. Nothing was futile or ‘hopeless’ when his loved ones were here. They kept a man grounded to the earth even when stars thundered into the atmosphere.
Cosmic bands swirled over him and the street crumbled, yet he continued his chase. His legs took him on a perilous voyage to the promised place, and no longer did he scorn it. The Ordo Disaster was the incident that united everyone into a single force.
He had to meet them again with a smile.
Ribbons flourished, but they were not arrows searching for their targets. Instead they created a wall directly in Alexander’s path. He was moving too fast to redirect his course, and puncturing through would leave him in confetti. Only right now did he realize he had no weapons; he dropped his [Lapaz] and [Conquerors]. A part of him knew that channeling a [Mana Impact] would cut it close.
Too close.
His breath hitched.
When he was moments away from collision, his vision was overtaken by memories and nostalgia. Recent experiences he enjoyed with the cobbled-together Dawn Baptists, people from different backgrounds and stories that had no right of working as one. They were dumbasses. They were idiots.
Did anyone believe they could end the Ordo Disaster? Could that team of Pseudo-Slayers actually pull their weight and contribute? Could the newly-promoted commander, a random Pseudo, actually bring a finale to this long night?
They did.
In their short time, they did.
They believed in him.
“Alex,” they called to him. “Alexander,” he remembered how they said his name. Sometimes affectionately, most of the time they cursed him. But he was theirs. “Conqueror,” they admired him.
“Conqueror,” a different voice reached out to him. Behind him, a warm blanket was wrapped over his shoulders, placed there by familiar strong hands. “Breathe, conqueror, and listen. There’s someone calling for you.”
Alexander shut his eyes and heard her sweet voice deep inside his heart. He accepted her, and she was the one who saw the man lurking underneath his scars.
[Honor Creation in Progress]
In his hand was a sword forged in war, nothing more than a condensed mass of crimson mana.
[Memento Realization: Byeolungeom (별운검)]
[Hwaseong First Arte - Red Banner]
The [Byeolungeom], using the Empress’s very own martial techniques, cut through the wall of ribbons. Not without struggle, but the edge was true.
“N-No!” stuttered Kreutz, “you cannot!”
Alexander landed on his feet but by then, more ribbons pounced. Another voice reached him.
[Memento Realization: Phoenix Brand]
Like how Firebrand revenged his own death against Tewfik, the [Byeolungeom] transformed into a magnificent flaming greatsword almost as large as Alexander himself. In a single powerful swing, all ribbons kissed fire and torched, unable to reach him.
“Halt! HALT!” Kreutz screamed as it desperately flung ribbon after ribbon in no strategic order.
Slash after slash, they were sundered to ash. Silver lightning sparked from his body, and he came meter-by-meter, heaving the sword inspired by the Flameking. However, suddenly, the construct snapped.
Inconveniently, Alexander was caught in the crosshairs once again.
[You can avoid this,] said a woman in Mandarin, [seek the way in nature and it will find you.]
[Memento Realization: Sōngshù (松树)]
Around Alexander’s wrists were blossoms of leaves, then like the cultivator who’d studied in Canglin and underneath the Sacred Leaf, he transformed into the leaves themselves and flushed through the net of ribbons. Some had been clipped and cut, but he emerged on the other side whole.
“CEASE!” declared the Lesser Caller as a shadow dwarfed Alexander, blocking the light from the afternoon sun and the nearby conflagrations. The remaining ribbons were intertwining together, forming one intimidating spear resembling thick twisted roots.
He was not fast enough to transform and flutter out of the way; he had to take it here and now. However, nothing prepared him for the next voice who answered him.
“You don’t step into a fight hoping you’ll get out clean, Alex. You go in with a single thought: to win. Sometimes, that means taking a hit.”
”As long as you are stubborn enough, you won’t be hurt. After all, you are my child. There’s no one more stubborn than myself.”
[Memento Realization]
[Bastion Gauntlets]
[Yǔzhòu (宇宙)]
The leaves swirled around his body, losing their vibrant color and instead surrounding him in white condensed energy, molded by the hands who'd brought him to this world. Around his forearms were thick metal gauntlets matching perfectly with the armor as warm as a mother's embrace. During tumultuous times, they comforted him; whenever he felt unsafe, they gave him security; when he needed an answer, they were there.
Always.
The [Bastion Gauntlets] caught the peeling spear between the palms. The initial force was almost enough to blow Alexander off his feet and it would've, if [Yǔzhòu] hadn't been realized. It gave him the necessary support he needed to stay on his legs. Although his feet skidded, rubbing hot on the already-boiling asphalt, he was a wall that the spear had to pierce. He wouldn't surrender unlike the [Infused Spirit Core]. Sparks showered from his hands. The armor cracked and snapped off in little chunks, gradually revealing his broken body underneath a flaking boiled egg. The spear's weight was increasing, or was it him who was getting weaker?
Dammit. Even as an S-Ranker, he did not have the strength to negate the spear. It was a losing battle trying to prove otherwise. Sometimes, just like Dad said, you needed to take a hit in order to win the match.
Alexander redirected the spear to his right palm and allowed it to fly loose. Unrestricted by anything, now, it soared. His right arm was ripped below the elbow, and that half of [Yǔzhòu] was completely stripped from his body.
Strangely enough, there wasn’t any pain. Was this how Damien felt?
He couldn’t think about that now. Losing an arm meant his clock was running very short. Alexander searched for the next voice, the one who could end this Disaster here and now. There were two choices, two possible answers if they were available: Kosmos and Seraph. All he needed was to borrow their power.
“Our wings never falter, Alex,” but the voice did not belong to either of them. It was a man who he had never heard before. “This blade has a will on its own. Call its name and that will is yours.”
In his left hand, the final icon was crafted: a draconic silver sword etched with foreign logographic characters near the guard. He'd never seen this sword in his life, nor did he recall knowing anyone tangentially related to dragons. What was this sword and who did it belong to? Who was the base foundation for this [Memento]?
What was its name?
Alexander shouldn't know, and yet for some reason, the name was dangling at the tip of his tongue.
As though he wielded this before, in another world and in another self.
That name was…!
“Realize: Starsunder Drakos.”
Briefly after the city had witnessed the power of a Second Emergence, another anomaly came: this time it was a long torch of silver-white energy.
Belonging to the sword crafted to part the cosmos.
“Ah…” Kreutz watched as [Starsunder Drakos] festered. “Death was this soldier’s intention, creation is the truth. Apologies, my true lord Sirius, I shall not return.”
Alexander stepped, the single motion creating wind pressure blowing away rocks, and stared at the Lesser Caller one last time. The Comet that had started everything.
“See you in Hell,” he said before bringing the sword down.
The beam enveloped everything one meter at a time. Kreutz awaited the bright light—if it had a face, then at that moment, it would’ve smiled—and embraced what came after.
Nothing was left in the aftermath.
[Objective Completed: The Lesser Caller, Kreutz, is defeated!]
[The following quests have been completed: Survive the Siege, Perilous City-State]
[The following expedition has been completed: Besieged Ordo]
Alexander could not focus on the following notifications. [Starsunder Drakos] dissipated from his hands. It seemed the beam had extinguished the fires which was awfully convenient.
He wanted to laugh, but his body was shutting down.
He did his job, and now he had to contend with the consequences.
“Heh…” Smiling to himself, Alexander barely had the willpower to crane his neck upwards at the Ordo Outbreak Barrier.
Soon, once both sides were comfortable, it would be dropped.
Unfortunately he wouldn’t be there to see it.
“I did good, didn’t I…?” Alexander asked himself. “Mom, Dad, I did good… I did… I…did…”
At the conclusion of the Ordo Disaster, Alexander Shen collapsed from his injuries and fell into a coma.
APOCALYPSE AVERSION
SAGA 1: STARBORN NIGHT COMPLETED
~~~
"Ah... Hah..." Bastien Shen laid against a car waiting for the last drops of sand to fall. Beside him laid a bloody longsword that he'd personally used to decapitate the Tribe Leader, and the rest scrambled after.
All the orcs were dead. All of them. An accomplishment like this deserved a beer or two; he imagined himself bragging about his feats with Alistair, talking about how good he would've been had he chosen the life of a Slayer. Sad, because right now he couldn't see anything let alone hold a drink.
He was going to die. The underdeveloped Slayer could not handle a dramatic increase of strength in terms of ranks, and so his body was breaking down. There wasn't any pain in dying, he discovered. It was the last thing the System did for him, probably.
A part of him wanted it to take back the courtesy. What kind of husband would let his wife die? What kind of father would leave behind his children? What would Xiuying say to him when they reunite? All that talk of protecting his family was for nothing. He deserved to be hated. He deserved whatever beating Xiuying would give him, and whatever lied beyond, he deserved to be put in the deepest parts of torment and stay there.
He never had gotten to know the woman who would take his son's heart. He never knew the name of his first grandchild. He never had gotten to hold his wife's wrinkled hand as they watched the sunset fade away knowing they'd lived a wonderful, wonderful life.
Maybe this was justice: dying with so many regrets.
"—Ah?"
When did it get so cold? It felt like he was thrown into a winter morning without any clothes on.
Someone was in front of him.
They held his hand, wearing gloves coarse with dirt and pebbles. It felt like grabbing an ice cube.
"Don't cry," said the stranger.
He was crying?
"P-Please..." he muttered, "...m-my... my..."
"You've done enough. You've done enough..." they told him, rubbing their cold fingers on the back of his hand. "Don’t leave with regrets, Bastien Shen. Your children will become wonderful people in the future. Everyday, they will miss their parents who'd sacrificed everything for them. They will always love you."
"W-Who—?"
"Close your eyes for me." When he was reluctant, the stranger insisted, "Please."
Bastien did.
"Good. Your children are adults now, having made their peace with what happened here thanks to your brother. They're happy, they're smiling. Can you see them now?"
"...Y-Yes."
"They're living fulfilling lives exactly how you wanted. Your son especially has found a woman who'd seen his beauty behind the scars of today, just like how your wife had seen you. Can you imagine her?"
"Yes..." Bastien gasped, choking on something he didn't know. "A-And... And my gr-grandchild?"
The stranger tightened their grip on his hand. "...B-Beautiful. They're beautiful."
A quiet moment passed through while Bastien could see the future clearly. He could see them now. They were smiling.
He was happy.
"Goodbye, Bastien Shen, and thank you."
----------------------------------------
[Quest Notification - Completion]
The following quests are completed: Special Expedition "Besieged Ordo", Main Quest "Survive the Siege", Main Quest "Perilous City-State".
In Main Quest "Perilous City-State", you have also completed the optional objective "Successfully complete the quest without the direct intervention of the Earthwill".
Besieged Ordo rewards Survive the Siege rewards Perilous City-State rewards
500,000 standards
Title - Survivor of Ordo
see "Besieged Ordo"
50,000,000 standards
Title - Hero of Ordo
[Survivor of Ordo] and [Hero of Ordo] will be combined into [Apocalypse Banisher].
[Title]
Apocalypse Banisher [S]
You have banished the threat of an immediate apocalypse from the coming world. While this title is active, an extra level is given to any attribute of your choice. During an Expedition, you may give yourself three additional levels to distribute.
[Honor]
Memento Arsenal
In the midst of the Ordo Disaster, you have opened your heart to the voices of your comrades who had accompanied you throughout the turmoil. These voices, these relationships you established with them are the most valuable possessions to you, the commander. They are your responsibility as much as you are theirs; together, working as one, there is no threat you cannot overcome.
You are able to actualize these bonds into tangible weapons and armor—[Mementos]. These [Mementos] can only be created when you have established a significant bond with a Slayer in the Dawn Baptists (or in relevant organizations) or through notable circumstances.
The given rank correlates with the present strength of the particular [Memento], where higher ranks may even allow you to inherit some abilities of the bonded individual. Each [Memento] is ranked from F (weakest) to EX (strongest).
A [Memento]'s rank changes based the development of the respective relationship, where deepening the relationship increases the rank; however, the inverse is true. If a relationship worsens, then the rank will decrease. In some cases, the [Memento] may shatter and will be removed from the arsenal. It is theoretically possible to regain the [Memento] if you repair the broken relationship. If the bonded individual is deceased or is absent for long periods of time, the [Memento] will remain but static to any rank changes.
The [Memento] itself will automatically develop as the bonded individual develops.
Thus, there are two ways for a [Memento] to improve: deepening your relationship with the bonded individual, and the bonded individual progressing their powers.
There is no limit to how many [Mementos] you are able to acquire. You can receive a detailed description of each [Memento] upon selecting it.
This is an [Honor] is reserved for you and only you, Alexander Shen.
Current Mementos
Bastion Gauntlets [SS]
Bastien Shen (deceased) - Memento Gauntlets
Yǔzhòu (宇宙) [S]
Shen Xiuying (deceased) - Memento Armor
Matriarch's Dagger [A]
Althea Shen - Memento Dagger
Byeolungeom (별운검) [S]
Leona Ahn - Memento Sword
Skyshooter [D]
Vernon Hugo - Memento Rifle
Hellfire Domain [D]
Damien Fayer - Memento Staff
Sōngshù (松树) [D]
Li Chunhua - Memento Manifestation
Heart Chords (心の和音) [E]
Sorayama Kaiya - Memento Aura
Champion Arms [E]
Victor Holidays - Memento Spear
Cheonji (천지) [E]
Baek Hei-ran - Memento Conjuration
Problematic Solution [F]
Morgan Hoshino - Memento Spellplates
Reverent Scythe [F]
Kezia Astaril - Memento Scythe
Guardian Angel [E]
Sera Hyun-Creed - Memento Shield
Phoenix Brand [F]
Aiden Kang - Memento Greatsword
Fox's Window (狐の窓) [E]
Shirabe Chie - Memento Mutation
Bastard Nagant [F]
Alina Vasilyevna Belyaeva - Memento Revolver
Starsunder Drakos [EX]
??? (absent) - Memento Sword