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The Golden Quiche
Chapter 76: Hero Story

Chapter 76: Hero Story

Cenna slammed her fists on the ground and muttered a string of furious curse words. You can’t tell if it’s towards The Genocider, or at herself for not figuring this out sooner.

“I-I don’t quite understand what’s going on…” said Mom.

If you must be honest, the details kinda flew over your head too. It seems to be a Vanquisher subject. So, everyone waited for Cenna to chill for a comprehensive explanation.

After a few deep breaths, she began.

“That bastard used the heretics’ research to stage that ceremony! That’s why they kept reading all those pillaged books!”

Alphys asked, “W-what does it take to become this Persona figure?”

“The strength to triumph above all others,” Cenna answered. “Gotta be smarter, stronger, faster than the rest. I bet everyone gave it a shot at first. But as the years went by, they refined the candidate selection process to only include those with a Red Psychia.”

Why?

“Mez told me that only Reds have a fighting chance against other Reds. Plus, they’ll train harder than their non-Red counterparts. So even if you include the non-Reds, they’re gonna get outclassed by sheer determined effort.”

“I thought combat was the primary reason. But after witnessing this, damn I know I’m wrong. The original purpose of the Persona system was to train the perfect puppet. They’re walking, breathing DEMON vessels!”

You found that strange. Won’t their Determination conflict with their purpose?

“Nay Frisky. They would be ‘determined’ to fulfill their purpose. In other words, they will insist on being an empty vessel to house whatever ancestral spirit they can call upon.”

Undyne furrowed her brows. “Damn. I’ve heard that ancestral worship is a big thing in many human cultures, but this is taking it way too far. Why did that jerk take so much effort in possessing others?”

You suspect that it had something to do with ‘Eternal Peace’.

That exact same statement popped up on Papyrus’ selection. Dang. Has he ever heard of that before?

“OF COURSE!” he chirped. “THAT’S THE AFTERLIFE! SANS TOLD ME THAT WHEN WE DIE, WE PASS ON TO A PLACE WHERE EVERYTHING IS NICE AND PEACEFUL.”

Sans started sweating in the background. It’s clear that he said those things just to make his brother happy. Papyrus being Papyrus took it all at face value.

Oh sweet cinnamon roll. You didn’t want the Genocider or Chara to tarnish this preciously innocent image.

You told Papyrus that he should be aware that the Gungnir’s founder had lost their marbles a long time ago. Therefore, whatever nonsense they spout shouldn’t be believed.

“I UNDERSTAND. THIS HUMAN… THEY REMIND ME OF UNCLE GASTER DURING HIS BAD TIMES. IT’S SO VERY SAD THAT NO ONE COULD REACH THEM.”

He’s right. Solitude was their greatest tragedy.

You had once lost all faith and hope in yourself. And yet, Papyrus continued to believe. You’re forever grateful that he trusted you even at your worst.

Let’s move on to the next page.

“YES. LET’S GO.”

He pressed the button.

Time passed since the rise of the first Persona. They gained popularity as their disciples went out into the world, helping people through swift might.

Many of their believers had good hearts. Some even put sensible thought in their actions. But it didn’t change the fact that it fed into The Genocider’s ultimate plan…

If only their founder was less of a nutcase.

After generations, the Gungnir god announced that it’s time to initiate their grand plan. Sent out a message to their disciples to choose the best of the six non-Red categories, tested by the Persona themselves.

With more people in their cult, they had a bigger pool of candidates to choose from. The Persona surveyed the populace with their ancestor haunting from their shoulders.

You can’t tell if this person was a guy or girl either. They’re almost always concealed in a dark-red hood. You tried to identify the person through their facial features, but you can’t. They had some pretty teal eyes though.

The Magi caught wind of this strange change of behaviour. It’s too much like the Sealing. They sent out spies and agents to investigate. Not everyone made it out alive.

Once they gathered in one place, the Gungnir’s chosen travelled southwest. Their most loyal and skilled warriors guarded the sacred cargo with their lives.

A young knight, copper-haired, chased after them on the back of a really big white wolf.

The knight wore leather and chainmail to protect himself. The wolf sported a cyan garb of sorts. It reminded you of jousting horses, but with practicality in mind. Both bear the heraldic emblem of possibly the Eldins.

They crossed the grasslands, the forests, the mountains. It’s clear that they’re far behind.

The sun slowly set across the horizon…

Then the wolf spoke:

“My Lord, we'll never make it in time.”

“…Never say never, Roger!”

Mom covered her mouth in shock. Dad froze too.

“A Boss Monster?!” she exclaimed.

That wolf was a Boss Monster?!?!?!

Alphys, Undyne, Papyrus, and Doctor Goop reacted with the same shock… but Sans didn’t budge an inch.

“Yes, my child,” said Mom. “They call themselves the ‘Tundra Dire Wolves’. I thought they were lost to wars oh so long ago.”

Dad further explained, “As Toriel and I govern over fire, the Dire Wolves govern over all things ice. They visited my father’s kingdom once when I was but a small child. Their Queen made some fruit sherbert for me as a treat. It was quite the experience!”

Cenna chuckled. “Hey Frisky, remembered that Demon Story I told ya at the canteen?”

If you must be honest, that story had gone somewhat fuzzy now.

“Feels like a long time ago, yeah? Remember I told ya something along the lines of, ‘whenever crap hits the fan, two will have to sacrifice themselves to save the world’?”

After she mentioned it, you recalled a similar detail.

Does that mean that the knight and the big white wolf were the two who vanquished the Genocider’s DEMON?!

Undyne fixated on the screen more than usual. The bloke on the wolf was the true hero. He too made a spear the weapon of his choice.

Two spearmasters going against each other, huh? You know she’s going to feel a certain bond with the copper-haired one. He had the guts, the energy, and her trademark weapon.

Here comes the fire welling up inside her being. She yelled: “Okay! Who is that guy?! And the Boss Monster too! Tell me all about them!”

To Undyne, he must be a beacon of hope that her dreams weren’t doomed to a twisted seinen fate.

Cenna couldn't help but laugh.

That super-wide grin showed off her almost-pearly whites.

“Eager, yeah? No problemo, Captain Undyne. Mister Orange there is Sir Philip Eldin. Remember the knights that accompanied The Red Sage in the previous visions?”

A photograph popped up on the monitor, courtesy of Papyrus. There stood a man who Berendin had addressed as ‘Captain Eldin’.

This Philip hero was a descendant of that person?

“Bingo! House Eldin swore loyalty to House Berendin ever since the Red Sage still had his flesh and blood. This extends to the Magus Association too. Not all of them are blessed with magic, but there’s ones that do hybridize their military training with Magi skills. Like our Philip fellow here.”

In other words, he’s a ‘Magic Knight’ sort of person. Does that make him a Vanquisher?

“Nay, Frisky. Organized Vanquishers didn’t exist back then. Fun fact: A Supreme Judge started the profession. He travelled from halfway across the world. That’s a story for a different day though.”

“Now the fluffy wolf Boss? He’s Prince Skavvimolniya. Nicknamed ‘Roger’ because people can’t say his name to save their lives. You guys know how Boss Monsters create the next generation, right?”

Everyone nodded. The parents will pass their life down to their child as they mature. Literally.

“Yup. The Dire Wolves of that nation ended up with two boys. Cousins. The elder cousin became King, while the younger one moved to the Magus Association as a diplomat. He lived many years there as a ‘huge tundra dog’. Only a handful knew his true identity.”

“This Prince,” Sans wondered, “If he’s a diplomat, why did he go on a fatal quest? The relations between Magi and monsters are vital for his kingdom’s survival.”

Cenna answered, “Because that DEMON bastard still held the Keys of Fate. Gungnir had the power to rewind time at their beck and call.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Sir Philip Eldin ain’t a Living Victory either. He’s an Orange Major with a Red and Yellow Minor. On his own, he’s gonna get gutted alive by Persona in no time flat. The only way anyone would have a fighting chance was to…”

She’s reluctant to finish the sentence.

“What about the Supreme Judges?” he asked back. “Don’t they have their special brand of magic?”

“Outclassed by Persona’s combat skill. Our pool of candidates was tiny thanks to Gungnir influence. Many people who would otherwise be the ideal Supreme Judge gave their lives to the cult. In the end, those two were our best bet.”

Sans breathed a heavy sigh. “…I hope the fluffy guy thought this through before he volunteered.”

The way Sans talked troubled you. You asked him if there’s something wrong?

“Nah. It's nothing, kid. It's just when you’re in important positions, it’s your number one duty to stay alive. I know folks will tell you that integrity and wisdom are paramount. But, you can’t lead or help anyone if you’re dead.”

“The only acceptable reason to sacrifice yourself, ever, is to secure the lives of countless others. Even then, that’s reserved for the very worst outcome. If you could come back alive by a miracle, for the love of all things good, please do so.”

Okay Sans. You pro--

“Don’t promise anything, kid. Dontcha think you’re carrying enough weight on your tiny little shoulders already?”

…That’s true. Thanks for the thought.

“No problem.”

Papyrus blurted out, “THE WOLF KNIGHT IS RUNNING UP THE PATH OF THIS REALLY BIG AND FLAT MOUNTAINTOP! AS IF UNDYNE CHOPPED OFF THE POINTY BITS WITH A GIANT SPEAR.”

Ever knowledgeable Gaster then said, “That is called a ‘plateau’, my boy. Not all mountains are triangular like Ebott. In fact, the---”

“Shh,” Sans said, “The show’s starting.”

The warriors of Gungnir heard the gallops of the wolf Prince and the knight. They grabbed their weapons and drew their bows.

Phillip armed his spear. You knew from his expression that he’s prepared to kill.

Not that Roger would allow it. He conjured a massive ice wall that separated the two opposing forces from each other.

Despite carrying a passenger, the wolf prince scaled the heights with swiftness. From the tops, he used his magic again to force the humans aside. Then, he planted another ice wall in the clearing. They served both as isolators, and as platforms.

“Beware,” said Roger, “The enemy rules by shedded blood. Staining your hands only grants them power. Remain pure! Only purity alone can stand a chance against corruption.”

Philip nodded to his friend’s wisdom. “I understand. Thanks. Almost made a terrible mistake there.”

“That is why I am here and not a simple horse.”

Arrows flew from below.

Shields of compact ice stopped them all in place.

Except for one.

“Watch out!”

For a brief moment, Philip’s chest glowed orange. He then swiped the incoming shot out of thin air.

Undyne cheered the heck out of that. “Holy smokes! That kid is FAST!”

It's like like that training at the school gym!

“That’s what Orange Majors do,” said Cenna. “Superspeed and limited precog. As a Yellow Minor he's got a keen eye too. Different skills compared to the Cinnamon Roll, but similar end results.”

The two jumped over the back lines and into a bottleneck. It’s the perfect place to plant the biggest ice wall of all ice walls:

A meter thick;

And a hundred times as tall.

Steep cliffs by the side. Crystallized water in front. The warriors won’t catch up anytime soon.

Once they’re in the clear, the young knight said: “That’s amazing, Roger! I never knew you’re that powerful.”

“Why the surprise, My Lord? We monsters command the elements with full knowledge of their might. It’s a power not to be thrown around in careless wanton, contrary to human sensibilities.”

At the far end of the plateau, a square stone platform basked under the moonlight. Engraved on top was none other than a seven-point star. One point for each Aspect of the SOUL.

Six of the Gungnir Chosen knelt inside the Gram. The Persona, hidden underneath their deep-red hood, took out a knife and placed it on the edges of one of their throats.

The screen blacked out, but you could still hear the sickening slices of slaughter.

One then became six.

When the vision stabilized once more, the blood of each of the Chosens filled the ridges of the magic star. Their SOULs floated high above their lifeless corpses, ready for the next phase of the spell.

Philip and Roger arrived too late. Nonetheless, the knight jumped off the back of his companion and yelled out to Persona.

“Madina, stop!” he yelled.

Madina? So that means he knew this Persona was a woman.

Pulling back the hood revealed the complete picture: light brown hair, braided and tucked into a bun. The clothes really hid her girly features.

She looked at him and replied, “I’m no longer Madina, knight. I’m Persona: the vessel of the Legendary Hero.”

“Enough with this Persona crap! Are you telling me that our childhood means nothing to you?!”

Cenna raised a brow. “Okay, I didn’t know that. Childhood friends, huh? Fate is one cruel bugger.”

Gazing straight on the ground, she replied: “Yes.”

Philip yelled back. “You always stare at your feet when you lie!”

He reached out an upturned hand towards her: a sign of reconciliation. The wolf whispered a warning in response. “Careful, My Lord. She’s a hostage in more ways than one. Nothing belongs to her anymore. Not even her SOUL.”

The ghost of the Genocider loomed over her shoulders. They watched the proceedings in eerie silence.

Refusing to give up, Philip pleaded, “If you surrender, I swear I’ll do everything I can to save you! I’ll get rid of that bastard, beg the Grandmaster to spare your life, and, and, and… whatever it takes! I’ll help you no matter what!”

Undyne forgot that she’s witnessing the past. She stood up, stomped her feet and cheered at the top of her lungs: “YEAAAAAAAH!!!! That’s how you do it! GO PHILIP!”

There was a glimmer of hope. But, it got squashed flat.

Madina let the blood of sacrifice continue dripping on the magic circle. “Then what? Perish from plague like my parents did? Toil under the sun until I turn into dust? Have my life ended on the whims of tyranny?”

“Life is meaningless. We’re born to die. Every other religion promises freedom of hardships and pain. Yet, this world remains unchanged. Only my god is taking active steps to fulfil our dreams.”

“We, Gungnir, shall end the source of life and death: existence itself.”

She pointed the bloodied knife towards the knight. “I’m doing this for your sake too, Philip. You and I… we’ll find everlasting peace at last.”

The Genocider’s DEMON patted Madina on her head, praising her stance on the matter. Their disembodied voice of strength boomed in the air. “Excellent, Persona. You understand. Ignore that fool. Let us finish this together.”

Philip brandished his spear. “Not if I get to you first!”

“Hmph. If you truly wish to end me, you must kill your ‘precious’ friend.”

As hot and rash as his colours, Philip stood ready to jump into the fray. Roger then snapped his mighty jaw onto his clothes.

“Oh c’mon, what now Roger?!”

“It’s a trap, My Lord! If you attack, you’ll be covered in their blood. That’s certain death!”

“I’m not gonna kill her, duh! I’m gonna split them apart and then kick that bastard’s ass!”

The DEMON scoffed. “Such folly. Typical. Try as you will.”

You watched the spirit seep into Madina’s body. Strings of dark red wrapped around her from head to toe, showing that the DEMON had EQUIPPED her as their weapon. It’s possession at its most blatant.

She walked backwards and stood right in the middle of the square. Lifting her hands to the sky, her Red SOUL rose against the starry moonlit night.

Magic coursed through the blood-soaked code embedded in stone. The other colours disintegrated into fine powder and collapsed into the singular intact resonating heart.

The air quaked. The surroundings peeled and flaked as though they’re paper backdrops. Is it interfering with Papyrus’ power?

Doctor Gaster’s gooey being quivered at the sight. “No… they’re tearing reality apart. But this isn’t right. A human cannot absorb another human’s SOUL, no matter what. It’s trying to mix oil and water without emulsification.”

Imminent meltdown in 3, 2, 1…?

A tortuous screech confirmed your guesses. The six other colours that don’t belong threatened to rip their host’s SOUL apart from the inside out.

Papyrus covered his non-existent ears, but it’s futile. He’s not hearing the voices from the outside. The vision started to tear into tri-colour lines of orange, blue, and green.

The fire of his magic Eye seeped between the gaps of the visor. It’s growing wilder and wilder.

“Bro!” Sans yelped. His first instinct was to try yank the device off his brother’s head.

But the younger brother stopped him. He gently lowered Sans’ hand and said: “I’M OKAY. JUST STARTLED. THAT’S ALL.”

“You’re not okay, Paps. You’re rattling.”

It’s true. You could hear the clatter of his bones from where you’re sitting.

“IT’S SCARY,” he admitted, “BUT I WANT TO SEE THE TRUTH.”

Conviction calmed the flames. With that, the vision stabilized.

A spooked and intimidated Philip took a step back. “Uh, Roger? What’s going on?”

The wolf bowed to a combat stance. “Stay on guard, My Lord. The false god will soon realise the truth. That’s when our real battle begins.”

The strings of demonic curses grew into solid chains born from magic. They crawled over the ripping SOUL and bound all the conflicting aspects in place.

“This pain… this pain…! Give me your soul, creature!”

The Persona and their possessor leaped forward in a blink: their knife held high above the head of the wolf prince.

Ice formed beneath Roger’s paws. He’s ready to counter, however…

…Philip leapt into the fray. The knife stabbed straight into his left shoulder. He braced through the sting and slashed his spear towards the cursed chains of the DEMON.

Like glass, they shattered.

“Sorry,” he said. Then pushed his possessed friend back with a swift magic-enhanced kick in the gut.

She skidded a few feet across, almost falling off the ledge of the plateau. The Persona struggled to stand due to the unstable mishmash of their SOUL.

Blood won’t stop flowing. Seems to have cut a major vein. There’s no such thing as blood transfusions back then, and you’re not sure if magic could help. Was this to be the inevitable cause of his demise?

“Sir Eldin!” Roger exclaimed.

“Ah crap. I’m bleeding out.”

The knight winced from the pain. He forced out his SOUL and hovered it right before Roger. “Take it. Hurry. We have a chance: their curse is weaker than I thought.”

“But--”

“There’s no time. The moment Madina recovers, that bastard’s gonna grab your SOUL. My body’s as good as gone. Really.”

The wolf prince understood what’s at stake. “It’s a pleasure to serve, My Lord.”

“Heh. I should be saying that to you, Prince Skavvimolniya.” Philip showed his final smirk. “Thanks for being my best friend.”

When the two united as one, a great light radiated from the top of the plateau. Out from that light leapt out a lone armoured wolf, missing its rider.

Then there was a blackout.

Lights gone. Machines hiccuped. Denied of their power source, the screen died at the introduction of the battle.

Undyne groaned, “OH C’MON! That’s like the BEST part! I was ready to cheer--”

Her complaints were interrupted by a hasty clunk on the floor. Papyrus had dashed to the kitchen. His brother followed right behind.

“Is that what I think it is???”

Here comes the disgusting hurling sounds of someone emptying his non-existent gut contents down the sink. Goodbye dinner. At least for monsters, it would just be in the form of magic and not undigested bits of mystery.

Concerned friends and family huddled at the kitchen. You’re glad that the house still had running water despite its long-abandoned state.

After a good rinse, Sans escorted his brother out. The house’s electricity returned around the same time.

“Can we call it done for the night?” he asked.

“I agree,” Cenna added. “Throwing up is a bad sign for anyone, human or monster.”

You thought so too. C’mon Papyrus, let’s go home.

The Orange Seer stared at the direction of the visor in great concern. Instead of agreeing with his friends, he slipped between everyone and sat down at his diving spot.

“What the heck are you doing?” Undyne narrowed her gaze.

“I MUST KEEP GOING,” he replied.

Doctor Gaster straightened his back. In utmost conviction, he said, “I agree with Papyrus.”

It’s utter chaos. Mom drilled in her distinctive glare, Undyne flipped out, Sans looked like he’s ready to give the goopy doc a bad time, and Dad struggled to talk sense above all the noise.

But Doctor Gaster refused to waver.

“Apologies,” he said, “To uncover secrets, one must have courage. Courage is the bravery to press on despite fears, hardships and pain.”

“And what,” Sans snapped back, “Go fucking insane like you did?”

“I trust Papyrus to know his own limits. He’s… he’s no longer a child.”

Only two other people in this room knew of Sans’ sealed eye.

Doctor Gaster.

And… you.

In other words, the doctor realised that they’re lacking options to gather information.

Papyrus placed a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder. “SANS, I KNOW YOU’RE TRYING TO PROTECT ME. BUT, I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN DO THIS.”

“Bro--”

“I FEEL LIKE WE DON’T HAVE MUCH TIME LEFT.”

He let go of Sans and strapped the visor back on. The kind of aura he exuded was of a person knowing that they’re heading into dangerous territory; he won’t come out unscathed.

Terrified. Worried. Anxious. Tired.

Yet the skeleton shafted it all to the back for the sake of others.

You watched from the backlines in amazement.

Since when did the sweetest dumbcake grow up to become such a hero?

The screen booted up once more. You watched blue, orange, and green weave into another piece of history.

“What are you doing?”

That’s Asriel’s voice.

Fluffy goat hands carried the greyed corpse of a young child. Blisters lined the edges of their mouth: one of the many signs of buttercup poisoning.

“Stop! Let me control my own body!”

“Give it back!”

“Please!”

“I beg you, Chara!!!”