CHAPTER 134 – THE END PHASE
GAZELLE LOCKWOOD
As I descended onto the fractured grounds of the Dragon’s Fortress, a shiver of disbelief coursed through me. The once majestic floating island, a beacon of the Republic’s might, now lay anchored to the gritty soil of northern Alterra. The scent of blood mingled with the acrid taint of decaying mana hung heavy in the air, whispering tales of the recent carnage.
Rubble littered the landscape, and half-collapsed structures bore the scars of battle. My heart sank with each step as my eyes traced the devastation that had engulfed what was once a place of power and sanctuary.
With a sigh, I released the Alientech Dragon transformation, feeling the familiar rush of energy ebb away as my feet touched down at the Cathedral Exa. The gritty crunch of debris underfoot marked my path to the entrance where familiar faces awaited.
Johnny Wolvesbane and Meike Eaterson stepped forward, their expressions a mix of relief and weariness. "Glad to have you back, Supreme Commander," they chorused, their voices a balm to my frayed nerves.
I forced a smile, though my gaze drifted past them, surveying the extent of the destruction. "What happened here?" I asked, though a part of me dreaded the answer.
Johnny’s face hardened, his voice tinged with frustration. "The Human Empire," he spat. "They've reanimated the mermaids and corrupted the lost Dragon Lord. All this chaos... it's their doing."
A cold fury clenched within me, my fists tightening reflexively. The visions from the Eye of Deus had forewarned me, yet the stark reality was overwhelming. The King of Humanity’s machinations were unfolding just as predicted, employing even a lost Dragon Lord in his schemes against us.
My thoughts raced as Johnny continued outlining our losses - Onishira, Nocturnia, and now possibly Kraghelm if Eva’s intelligence held true. Though the Empress had reclaimed much of Alterra, the situation was dire. Elysia, Sargus, and Fleija still stood with us, but the heart of the conflict throbbed here in Alterra.
Determination set my jaw firm. It was clear that the time had come to lay all our plans on the table. As I looked out over the remnants of my stronghold, I knew I must marshal every resource, every ally. We were not yet defeated, and I would ensure we were ready for what was to come.
“How about the Regressor?” I asked, trying to probe deeper into our resources amidst the chaos.
Johnny’s expression darkened, a shadow passing over his face briefly before he exchanged a loaded glance with Meike. Without a word, he turned on his heel and headed toward the Cathedral’s altar. “Follow me,” he commanded, his tone laced with a severity that brooked no argument.
Silently, Meike and I trailed behind him, our boots echoing softly on the stone floor. Behind the altar, Johnny revealed a secret passage, cleverly concealed and unknown to me until now. We entered, the passage enveloping us in its cloak of darkness, the only sound our measured footsteps and the distant drip of unseen water.
After navigating the oppressive tunnel, light finally greeted us, unveiling a ritual site shrouded in mystery and old magic. The air was thick with the scent of chalk and latent power. In the center of the room, etched into the floor with meticulous care, lay a vast magical circle. Its complexity was dizzying, each rune and symbol pulsing with potential. Bound at its heart was a figure, swathed in a straight jacket and bandages like a mummy from an ancient crypt.
The muffled grunts and frantic jerking of the bound figure broke the eerie silence. Despite being gagged, his desperation was palpable, his every movement screaming resistance.
“We finally have access to Regression Magic,” Johnny declared, his smirk carrying a mix of triumph and cold calculation. “But it remains a mystery how Lysander came upon such knowledge.”
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Curiosity piqued, I asked, “How were you able to extract it from him?”
Johnny’s smile widened, chilling in its implications. “I have my methods, Gazelle. Let’s just say my interrogation techniques would make even you flinch. After all, this man murdered my lover.”
He moved closer to the restrained figure, his boot rising and then forcefully descending on the mummy-like form’s head. “This is what he deserves for killing Maggie,” he hissed, twisting his foot cruelly. The cold brutality of his action suggested the figure beneath his boot was indeed Lysander, though a niggling doubt tugged at my mind, hinting that something about this entire scenario wasn’t quite as it seemed.
"Why haven't you killed him yet?" I pressed Johnny, puzzled by his restraint towards the Regressor who caused him such personal loss.
Johnny's gaze shifted away from the mummified form of Lysander, his eyes reflecting a mix of contemplation and resolve. He stepped back, raising an index finger as if to emphasize his point. "I have two reasons," he began, his voice steady. "First, I need to ensure that the Regression Magic actually works. And second," he continued, his tone taking on a hint of gravitas, "the magic itself has three specific requirements."
Intrigued, I urged him to elaborate. "Please, pray tell."
Johnny explained, "To activate the Regression Magic, three crucial conditions must be met: first, a sage who fully understands the magical formula; second, the caster needs to be in good health and possess ample mana; third, the caster must offer their life and soul energy within the magical circle. Currently, none of us possess the requisite knowledge or capability to fulfill these conditions."
I pondered for a moment before responding. "There’s no need to master the entire Regression Magic. We can bring in sages to modify the ritual, perhaps even use Lysander himself as the necessary sacrifice while we reap the benefits of time regression."
"That’s exactly what I was thinking," Johnny nodded in agreement, a sly grin spreading across his face. "That’s why I’m keeping him alive for now. Once we have everything prepared, we can simply eliminate him and seize control of the regression ourselves."
"Fair point," I acknowledged, impressed with Johnny's strategic foresight. He indeed possessed a cunning almost rivaling Hiraya.
However, unbeknownst to him, I harbored my own schemes—plans that would surpass the cunning of anyone in this tumultuous world. Quietly, I pulled out my phone and dialed an unregistered number. After letting it ring three times, a voice on the other end of the line answered, ready to set my long-anticipated plan into motion.
"Gaz," came the familiar synthetic voice of my partner and informant from the other end of the line.
"Eva," I acknowledged, the weight of our impending actions settling on my shoulders.
"The first stage of our end phase is underway. While the elven Oracle engages our forces in Kraghelm, Marieflorine Corasell leads a final push northward to reclaim what's left of Alterra. The empire believes they're winning this war," Eva reported, her words tinged with a hint of satisfaction.
"Good," I responded, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Tonight, we take back what the humans stole from Goddess Exceria. Tonight, we strike at the heart of the Empire's Sanctuary."
Johnny and Meike exchanged puzzled glances, clearly taken aback by my sudden declaration. I turned to them, my smile widening as I laid out our next move.
"Johnny, assemble all my generals. We have an announcement to make. We'll broadcast to the world that the Republic of Dragons stands unwavering, ready to end this war swiftly. We'll unleash everything we have on the Empire's Sanctuary."
Johnny, ever the loyal soldier, snapped into action. "How?" he inquired, his eyes alight with determination.
"Shock and awe," I replied, a smirk playing on my lips.
"Roger," Johnny saluted crisply, Meike following suit before they hurried off to execute my orders.
Left alone with the Regressor, I approached him with a mixture of contempt and curiosity. Kneeling down, I peeled back the bandages covering his face, revealing the features of the man who had caused us so much trouble.
"I guess your luck has finally run out, Regressor," I muttered, meeting his deathly glare with a steely gaze. With a firm grip, I dragged him out of the magical circle.
"The Oracle couldn't save you this time. Your so-called friend from the past timeline has betrayed you. I'd relish the opportunity to end your existence, but with that Heart of Exceria embedded in your chest, you're hardly even human anymore."
His muffled roars filled the air, a guttural sound of anger and defiance even as the gag stifled his cries. Lysander struggled against his restraints, his eyes blazing with fury and helplessness.
"Do not fret, Regressor," I said, my tone grim yet not without a certain calculated calmness. "You still have a role to play in the final act of this drama. You will be necessary in our last confrontation against the King of Humanity."
Lysander's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of confusion—or was it fear?—passing through them as he processed my words. His role was not yet over; his fate was still entwined with the very enemies he despised.
I stood, dusting off my hands, my gaze fixed on the helpless figure before me. "Preserve your strength, Lysander. You will need it." With those parting words, I turned and walked away, leaving him to his thoughts and the cold reality of his predicament.