“Focus your attention on the rear!” commanded Kashan to the nearby men and women as his [Paracelsian Elementals]—Sylph, Undine, Gnome, and Salamander—unfurled a swirl of elemental attacks on the Diminutive Cosmic Beast in Flares.
It’d taken an unbelievable amount of combined fire; however, as seen with the Watcher and Cutter, these unsightly trash were as mortal as a war elephant with a vengeance. Quickly the battlefield became a chaotic sprawl of organized disorganization where the only good thing was how obvious the target was. Even during the midst of battle, there were reports of monster leakage harassing various units—thus Kashan managed to cobble together a small force to handle any sightings and advise everyone to keep a rifle or two on the alleys.
But no matter how sound his orders were, a commander’s word was only as good as his soldiers’ hardiness, and his soldiers were frazzled. Desperate out of their damned minds. All they wanted was to kill the Beast as soon as freaking possible. A shared sentiment but did little to help.
It was like this across the entire city. Everyone was involved in the war, now. Whether you were a rifle hopelessly dragged along to the rapidly updating field, a sword dragged to consecutive subjugations, a civilian trying to find the safest place to hide and pray for safety, or you were in Kashan’s hapless state: one of the key players in securing Ordo’s safe future. Personally, he disagreed. Instead of an instrumental figure, he was more similar to a hopeless side character saddled with impossible tasks.
Like for example, this thing.
The Cosmic Beast sounded with its high-pitched voice once more. It sung in pain and vengeance, a warning of another attack. The volume was too much. Everyone had their faces scrunched up, coiled like industrial wire ready to snap. Including Kashan, and if his [Elementals] had faces then they’d turn ugly like a hag's.
Through the ear-shattering assault, he touted a command that fell on deaf ears—literally-speaking. No one could hear him but they saw his lips moving in motions vaguely resembling actual words. That was enough for them to act.
Like fighting against a Nemesis—physical calamities who'd destroyed their worlds beyond recovery—teams across the smoldering streets communicated within their ranks like sailors ready to brave the dark sea.
A big one was coming, you could feel it.
Kashan turned to the [Paracelsian Elemental], Gnome, who was preparing an earthly barrier. Who knew if he had the ability to withstand a cosmic-grade attack (or technically-speaking, cosmically-infused considering the half-Earthen nature of it). At times like these, honestly, when your options were ‘certain death’ and ‘a-bit-less-than-certain death’, a decimal-point of a chance was the loveliest thing to hear.
“Ready yourselves!” Kashan said and finally he could hear his wonderfully strained voice again.
The Cosmic Beast above rumbled black like storm clouds and looked like them: a wrinkled brainy black blob. Then, suddenly, cavities sunk into the flesh. Within each hole was a powerful, heavenly yellow-white glow so majestic that you’d mistake them as gates to heaven. Absolutely, Kashan thought, because they were going to absolutely murder him.
They sent divine retribution in the form of blitzing bolts.
Gnome finished a few seconds before one would crash down on Kashan’s position, a cave of earth erecting over their section of the street.
Then Gnome stopped halfway through to an unexpected sight.
“What…?” muttered the summoner, squinting at it.
The bolts had came for a moment then spontaneously, they blossomed into binary code. Zeroes and ones. Kashan’s heart lurched, a part of him believing Kreuz had given it a new power. Logic told him it was incorrect: What does a Cosmic Beast have to do with technology?
Was it a technomancer’s doing? Who had the capability to create computerized rain from a cosmic attack?
Kashan reached out as a clump of binary code fell onto his palm, disappearing upon contact like snowflakes. They didn't feel like anything, really.
“Look!” exclaimed one of the swords near him, pointing upwards.
There, centralizing at the Cosmic Beast's crevices, zeroes and ones were not falling. They were rising. Within a couple seconds, the heaven-light was smothered by binary code and penetrated deeply into the core of its body.
It screeched loudly like a hawk squawking its final breath. Then abruptly, it cut off. Instead of bleeding ichor, it disintegrated into numbers.
The Beast was withering away. It was dead. The virus killed it. What a convincing argument for the simulation theory.
If only everyone was so lucky.
Kashan didn’t know anyone within Ordo who had a technology-based power to this extent; thus, the only natural explanation was a third-party who had stepped in. Someone strong enough to kill a Cosmic Beast by themselves. As soon as he triple-confirmed the disaster’s death, he switched gears to locate and apprehend the mysterious helper.
When his mouth opened to bark new orders, a strange buzzing sensation stopped him. For some odd reason, his eyes were forcibly turned to a nondescript alleyway. Nothing was there. He blinked. A robed man glitched into existence, hunched over and using a cane to support himself.
There’s no need for you to investigate because I am right here, was what Kashan interpreted. He glanced around at the others, still focused on the Beast.
Not even the [Paracelsian Elementals] noticed the man.
He had a high-level presence concealment skill, then. Kashan saw him because he allowed it.
Fine then, I’ll bite. Kashan stepped down from his commanding platform, steady eyes watching the stranger closely, seeing more and more detail with every step: he was old, had a long beard, and Arabic script was woven into his wardrobe. He wore a mask where one eye was extended outwards like a telescope.
Ignoring the telepathic questions that the [Elementals] were asking him (even now, they couldn’t detect the stranger), Kashan smugly said, “Cassiopeia finally let you off your leash, respected elder?”
“No, I grew tired of plucking my beard-hairs for every mistake you made. If I was a more patient man, I’d be clean-shaven,” responded the elder, tapping his cane to emphasize his points before coughing. “I’ll meet with your Baptists to tackle the demesne. I figure informing you personally was a logical decision; otherwise you’d turn over every piece of rubble looking for me.”
“I appreciate the courtesy.” Kashan peeked at the decaying Beast then turned to the elder. He couldn’t forget that way of speaking. Seeing his appraisal at work now, the world finally had an answer to his sudden and mysterious disappearance. “You’ve tapped into the power of the Hundred Realms, haven't you, Master Alzahrani? Or should I refer to you as your new moniker, 153rd?”
Zuhail Alzahrani crowed at the mention of his place as a Constellation. “Pah. That edifice possesses a higher ceiling than the Slayer System, Thakur. But that is not my motivation for joining the Almagest in the first place."
“Indulge me. I have many questions.”
Alzahrani paused, gulping. "So do I, and we will not get our answers for a long time. Although I barely keep the secret of my identity, Cassiopeia is nonsensically adamant that I maintain the image of ‘Telescopium’. Do me a pleasure and refer to me as that, will you? If we see each other again.”
“Fine.” Kashan was about to add on, but once he blinked, Master Alzahrani (Telescopium) was gone, probably making his way to the other Baptists—Echo, most likely. Normally a reunion like this would merit a long conversation, probably over drinks, but there was no time for it.
Kashan sighed and rubbed his eyes. “This world is getting too complicated.”
~~~
Almagest? The 153rd Constellation? Alexander pressed a hand against his forehead, shaking it. Great, more organizations and names to keep track of and worry about in the future. Really, the more shocking part was the fact that Seraph kept its existence from the Baptists, but to give her the benefit of the doubt: a war was going on and the last thing they needed was some secret group associated with the stars.
He couldn’t focus on the revelation right now.
He recounted Echo Team's current objectives: by applying Void (courtesy of the Void God) and Telescopium’s appraisal ability [Discovery] which could theoretically break any physical object down to its conceptual parts, they could attack Wonder’s demesne and hopefully dismantle it like termites to wood.
Alexander checked on the status of the three other major theaters: in Creekwood, Vesper, and Dawns. In Dawns, Master Jin Junjie was engaging in solo combat against the Diminutive Cosmic Beast that had consumed Ikeya. Vesper had Gul, Righteous Jin Tiehan, and Prominence brawling against Kreutz, doing their damn best to not let it reach the Encampment. Finally was the main battle in Creekwood, where everyone else was at, trying to stop the Miracle’s advancement.
The Windvent Cosmic Beast was taken down by Levin—she packed a ton of power in that body of hers—and Telescopium killed the one in Flares.
Finally, the Superweapon was in position to blast Wonder from Remembrance Plaza; all they needed were a few moments where the piece of shit stayed still. Best way to do that was either pin it down—a task that the high-rankers were struggling to do—or destroy the demesne. The latter was somehow the more plausible option.
The choice was clear. Truthfully, Alexander didn’t trust the Almagest, his suspicion stretching to Telescopium as a result. By the fact that Seraph purposefully didn’t tell him about their existence meant they were serious people; however, since Problem was so convinced about the old man’s integrity, there wasn’t a choice but to rely on him.
Alexander had his thoughts together and spoke into the call, “Once you start castlebreaking, the Sungrazers will know right away. How’s the monster density on your side of town?”
Fusil responded first, “Surprisingly light considering the cargo we’re carrying.”
“Knowing our luck, you’ll regret saying that. Alongside the Superweapon, you’ll need to defend Devoy and our special guest.” There’s a good chance that they’ll attract monsters with the ruckus these two will make. With the firepower present in Echo, they’ll be able to handle it. “Remembrance Plaza might just be the party of the city, so bring enough cups and utensils for our party crashers. If there’s nothing else, you’re clear to go. You read that, Seraph?”
“Understood!” said Seraph as her fight hadn’t deceased in intensity. That was all she could say before being pulled away.
Now, there’s nothing else to do but pray. Thinking back to the powers at play, Master Jin Junjie was being surprisingly selfless (or too prideful) by adamantly engaging in a one-on-one fight. It saved manpower for Kreutz and Wonder, where both teams were in a constant need for support. However the situation was going to change and hopefully in their tide.
So that leaves one more unaccounted variable who’s gone dark ever since she left. Alexander glanced to the coffee mugs on a nearby table. What are you doing, Sage?
~~~
Remembrance Plaza was the hill where Echo Team would die on. The Ordoian government had ordered its construction decades ago to honor the city-state's first heroes in its recorded history. These included Slayers like Alm, generals and soldiers, even normal men and women who performed heroic deeds. In their memory, Ordo erected obsidian monoliths engraved with their names and stories placed circularly around the area.
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Five golden monoliths completed the center, marked with the name of the Sovereigns (Primordial, Oblivion, Gigantomachia, Magus, and Darkrealm) and a depiction of their likely appearance. Since, after all, no one truly knew what they looked like.
Like most of the historical monuments and tourist areas, the Disaster had thoroughly eviscerated Remembrance Plaza and rendered the memorial unrecognizable. There was not a single unscathed monolith. They were toppled over, cracked open, stone everywhere.
Echo Team couldn’t rely on outside resources, so as disrespectful as it was, the ruins made for excellent makeshift walls and barriers for the incoming horde.
“This is where we make our last stand!” cried Montana as he hauled a block of shiny obsidian on his shoulder. He passed rushing soldiers, giving them small nudges and words of encouragement, feeling the pressure build on.
Joining Fenrir at the unfinished perimeter, he slammed the block and nudged it with his armored foot a little, lining it up with the rest of its pals. The two Glories exchanged a glance that contained more emotions than they knew what to do with and mutually decided to work faster, needing to get these protections up before the two trump cards were played.
Three dozen meters away, a wandering band of large direwolves weaved between the ruins. The city was astonishingly different than their territory in the forests, but these monoliths made for ample concealment like thick trees. Together, they stalked. They snarled and held their predatory gazes at the humans gathered within the plaza.
Once they decided to brave an inch closer, a bullet whistled into a wolf’s skull and its body violently sized up and dropped. The other wolves couldn’t react in time before they were destroyed in the same way. Dead in three seconds.
“Gotcha, assholes,” murmured Fusil under his breath, propping [Cloudstrider] on a tower of blocks. The wolves were out of range of his [Honor]—which applied certainty to all shots in a determined area around him—so he had to hunt the old-fashioned way. “See anything else?” he asked.
“Nope,” his little brother said, shaking his head. Operator found the usual that he’d come to grow used to: endless debris and corpses. However he wasn’t used to this: quiet. It was too peaceful here, sort of like the receding tide before a tsunami.
“I see something,” Fusil stated as a bullet zipped from [Cloudstrider]. It punctured straight through a wall beyond the plaza’s borders; whatever was on the other side was probably dead. But as an added reassurance, the high-ranker shot again. This time lower, opening a second straw-sized hole in the wall.
“I couldn’t see that one,” Operator said, his voice coming to a mutter at the end. “Even if [Close Eye] saw things on a molecular level, I couldn’t have spotted that.”
The Head Officer clicked his tongue. “When did you get so sassy?” Then he fired again.
The brothers joined the many men and women manning the perimeter, charged with dispatching any wandering monsters. They were stragglers. Generally unorganized pods thought to be unassociated with the Sungrazers. Like for example the direwolves earlier: a handful of monsters posing little actual danger.
Having found an uncontested spot—meaning no obvious threats nor a high chance of friendly fire—Victor spotted a large chunk of monument-stone. Large enough that he couldn't move it by himself.
“Over here!” he shouted to the other B-Ranks in his graduating class. Forest Master and Uprise had blocks in their arms. Cleverly, they stacked them on top and gave their two hands. “Ready?” he asked the girls. They looked ready. “Alright, push!”
Together, they pushed. Victor was reminded of the silly teamwork exercises back in Ordo University. Professor Ichiken had creative ideas to bond the class together. His punishments— ‘lessons’ as he’d liked to refer to them—were memorable: reciting weird Buddhist texts to each other, doing that Sōran Bushi dance, and other crap like that. To think all those hours spent doing humiliating things accumulated to this: pushing a broken monument to act as cover so a literal Void God plus some old guy could break down a cosmic-level demesne.
Best three years of his fucking life.
Victor peeked at the top but couldn’t read the engraved text. “Whoever this monolith belongs to, please don't be upset that you're going to be riddled with bullets.”
“Is this really the time to make such statements?” Forest Master said with a struggle. This block was heavier than what the three of them expected.
“Yeah!” replied Victor. “We’re basically fighting in a glorified graveyard!”
“Ugh!” Uprise groaned, shaking her head. “You’re making it sound worse than it actually is!”
“We're in a pretty bad spot so I dunno how it can get any worse!”
"Don't say that!"
Problem watched Ordo University’s acclaimed B-Ranks for a few moments and grew somber at the sight. He sat on one of the golden monoliths dedicated to the Sovereigns. To be specific, it was Magus’s, the Sovereign who mastered all forms of the magical arts—to this day, he was still considered to be the world’s greatest mage. You’d find countless young arcanists aspiring to match him or even surpass his feats.
Problem was no exception, though considering how he got cursed for his efforts, maybe his methods were a tad misplaced. He sighed, using magick to tug at his hood.
“How’s the progress coming along, Void God?” asked the ritualist, observing Devoy closely as Votary and Evenfall had taken their seats around him. The three Slayers formed a trinity around the god.
“Your underground infrastructure is more complex than expected,” stated Devoy. In order to provide the best results—or increase the chances of such—he had to encompass the entirety of the city from top-to-bottom. Unlike his extinction-level act of rendering a whole continent Void, he had to be meticulous in his application of Void: the difference between mowing a lawn and trimming each blade of grass with a fine scissor.
Evenfall hummed, crossing his arms and legs, taking a gander at the Angel across from him. She was cleaning her blessed sawn-off shotguns with a rag, pointing it at the ground in a show of good gun safety. “Ordo has all sorts of secrets downstairs,” said the half-demon.
“It does.” Votary glanced at Evenfall, glowering. “Why are you staring at me?”
“You’re easy to look at,” he admitted before giving his attention to the other two nearby men. “I’d rather not bother the vile and demonic monster here, and Devoy too.”
Problem snorted. “Did you steal that joke from Conqueror?”
“Guilty.” Evenfall decided to dispel some of the tension in the air by chatting with Votary, telling some of the best jokes he had in his repertoire like this was a comedy club. The jokes were awful and had the Angel rolling her eyes, probably half-tempted to use her shotguns on him—that was what Problem would do.
After the third joke about someone’s father, Problem’s mind wandered. He thought about the Constellation going by the name of Telescopium.
Master Alzahrani, you miserable old man. After your disappearance, I’ve grown content in the fact that we’ll never meet again. But now you’ve shown yourself here of all places, of all times, it means there’s something horribly grave has occurred in the greater multiverse. Although I have no evidence for this, my intuition tells me it involves my newly-appointed commander.
So many questions, so little answers…
Internally, he knew that once the battle was over, he’ll receive no resolution from his old master. He’ll disappear again.
What a nuisance.
Shouts were heard at the center of the plaza. Once again Thunderstrike Hammer was chewing out his subordinates about the particulars. In Martials, he was known for his perfectionism and saw his craft no different than a harsh conductor or chef. Yatsar had to intervene, putting the trains back on their tracks.
Initiate watched the ‘conversation’ unfold. Thank God she didn’t pick Martials. In her opinion, there wasn’t as much of a ‘Big Four’. It was the Big Three where Martials Guild was placed in its own special little box. They ran their ship differently: lots more shoulder-rubbing, underhanded tactics, and a good helping of plain corruption. Not to say the other guilds were immune to such things but they seemed to be a feature in Martials.
Yet no one could deny that they got the job done. Sometimes better than their competitors.
The teleporter raised an eyebrow as one of her rivals showed herself: the feared Blackviper, a notorious assassin from her homeworld. If Master Jin Junjie kicks the bucket, then she’s probably be next-in-line to become the Vice Guild Master.
Initiate cocked her head up as a greeting. “Blackviper.”
The assassin gazed down where she was sitting. “Initiate.”
A chill came over the teleporter and she laughed a little. Remind me to never get on Vice Guild Master Jin’s bad side. I’m old but not ready for death just yet. “I’m assuming there’s no kinks in the machine?”
“Nothing as far as I can tell. We’ve smoothed over the problems from the first shot,” said Blackviper before she surveyed Remembrance Plaza and familiarized herself with the circumstances. “We need to wait on Devoy and whoever that man is.”
“Yup.” Initiate smacked her lips.
The two women looked straight ahead where the man known as Telescopium was. About a dozen meters off, kneeling with his cane on the ground next to him. As strong as his tongue was, his body was weak. Frail, but no one dared to approach him. There was a great amount mystery surrounding him and that intimidated people. His craft was esoteric and so was the knowledge inside his head. Could he speak a single word and kill a man instantly? Did he know the secrets of the multiverse?
All silly questions. They were probably correct questions but made from silly places.
No one bothered him except for one man: Alma, the Journey of Scholars.
Alma quietly approached Telescopium and stood a few meters to his left. The elder’s eyes were shut. He was focused, his lips barely moving. No, thought the Journey, I shouldn’t bother him—
[I’ve changed my mind,] Telescopium suddenly said in their native language, [I think I would’ve preferred you becoming a pompous Phenom than associating yourself with the Martials.]
Alma chuckled; that was a joke. At least that was what he thought. You really never knew with this man. You had to constantly read between the lines. The Constellation currently known as Telescopium was most infamous for his jeers and second-most infamous for his criticisms against the Phenomena Society. [Perhaps. Are you doing alright?]
[I could kill myself by using this much mana, but yes, I’m fine.]
He retained his sense of humor at least. [Good, that’s good. I…] Alma uncomfortably shifted around in place. [I don’t want to ask about your time nor do I want to know. I only have to thank God for your good health. Let me pray for you, treasured friend. You are wiser than most of us. Your mind is precious.]
[I have enough men praying for me,] replied Telescopium, ending his sentence with a cough. Humorously enough, that was plausible. Alma remembered one of his old conferences where he subtly accused the Society of unethical experimentations. By the conference's end, several of the attendees shook hands with him and muttered prayers for his safety. The Society, like many powerful and global organizations, did not like having their secrets disclosed to the public.
[You have no regard for my feelings, so allow me to disregard yours just this once.]
[Pah, you’re an annoying one, aren't you?]
There was a distant rumble, an explosion louder than the rest. Leona sighed, rubbing dirt off her cheek. It was a terrible thing to be used to the sound of explosions. Worse, she was used to many things: blood, death, the general atmosphere of constant war.
Luckily, she had things to keep her sane. Like the Spirit Beast Queen next to her. “Lovely, do you need help with anything?”
The Queen shook her head in the negative, gently holding her [Spirit Housing Necklace] in the palm of her hand. “Nope. I got, uh, Shandian tucked in here, I got my [Runestones]—y’know, those things—and my daggers are all clean, and my chain is too, so yeah. Yeah! I think I’m ready.”
She always did present herself like that, didn’t she? Althea Shen had to be the cool girl who was calm under pressure, undeterred by whatever the world threw at her, but she couldn’t fool the Empress. It didn’t take a high-ranker to notice her anxiety: Althea was quick to finish her sentence, had long pauses in the middle, her tongue moving faster than her mind did.
Leona mumbled disapprovingly to herself, laying a hand against her cheek. “Darling—“
“I’m fine. I’m okay, really,” insisted Althea.
She sat down next to the Queen. “You don't know what I was going to say.”
“Whenever you start with ‘Oh, darling!’ or ‘Hey, lovely!’, it’s kinda obvious where you’re going. I’m serious, though. It’s just pre-battle jitters.” Althea exhaled to expel all unwanted energy from her body.
Leona trusted Althea but a part of her mind had that nagging doubt. What if she wasn’t okay? What if she was hiding something? These thoughts, as Leona ultimately realized, stemmed from her own fears. So she took a deep breath as well, wanting to purge these feelings from herself.
“Alright,” she told Althea, softly smiling, before standing. “Let’s not sit around and chat. We aren’t afforded the luxury.”
~~~
High Dominion had given Pillar Creekwood time through the use of [Scutum Fidei]. They’d erected a grand miracle to shield the Pillar from Wonder, collapsing as a result of the strain and successfully thwarting its attack for the first time in this battle—with the help of Levin and Rector too. Despite their valiant efforts…
The System dinged, alerting Seraph of a tremendous amount of casualties.
She watched as the second Pillar fell. Wonder had cleaved through its crown, its means of transmitting the Outbreak Barrier. The crown dropped inwards and ran through the structure like a bullet tearing stacks of paper. Smoke puffed out as it pummeled through floors, crashing down and down until the ground level was reached and continued its descent into the basement.
Yes, High Dominion might have defended from the first attack, but their effort was ultimately inconsequential. Their allies had no immediate methods of retaliation. Ways to stop the second or the third.
Less people were hurt here than Pillar Vesper’s collapse; however, had Seraph acted against the protocols and ordered an immediate evacuation of all personnel—instead of non-essential personnel—then accepted the Pillar’s inevitable destruction…
She shook her head and intentionally bit her tongue. Going down this line of thought provided no benefits other than making further mistakes. She walled her mind, using the memories of her family as mortar. Seraph skimmed through the casualty list, sighing in relief when she saw High Dominion wasn’t on there, and ordered the surviving manpower to evacuate. She ensured support would come.
Monarch’s voice cracked throughout the brightened night. Wonder was moving again. Seeing its first target was demolished, the Comet ventured to the nearest Pillar after Creekwood: Flares.
The Sungrazer flew above the forlorn Ordoian streets and the Slayers followed, once again caught in an exhausting pursuit.