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The end of the incident started in a flash. Two patrols guarding Millian’s prison only heard one explosion as the wall fell on them. Both survived due to their beefy endurance stat, but no amount of mental fortitude prepared them for what came next. A roundhouse kick sent one of the men into a wall. The impact left him daze, but a quick palm strike in the face evaporated his consciousness. Meanwhile, the remaining patrol found himself hurled across the room into the approaching reinforcement. The man slammed with painful clunch. In response, the reinforcement stayed put as clouds of darkness filled the stone corridor. Something was coming. The troops knew it. But what they did not know sent a freezer there spine. A red visor shone, and a heavy plump object sailed out of the cloud. One mage panicked and exploded the projectile out of the sky with a fireball. It was a move of a blind reaction that would result in disastrous consequences. The object dropped from the air, revealing the steaming, groaning, bloody body of Port. The sight of their mayor in his horrible state stunned the guard for a second. That distraction was enough to end the battle. Six bullets slammed into the group, dropping half a dozen wardens to the floor. Although half of their number fell, the reinforcement didn’t freeze. They prepared their magic and started firing. Sadly, none of them realized then that firing blindly into a curtain of darkness might not be the wisest idea. Horizon Dawn’s attack team already saw this coming. Two throwing knives impaled two of the six guards. One attacker closed in using this reaction gap and ended the fight. A fist slammed into a nose, breaking it and launching a man into the far wall. The second guard could barely react to a masked woman’s uppercut. The following high-kick ignited a wall of flame, blasting the last two defenders into the wall. The masked demoness breathed a sigh of relief. “That was easier than I expected.” “It is only this easy because we have an element of surprise,” Rem said. “We better hurry.” … Sometimes after Rem and Melody started their attack, Cytortia was assembling the F-U5. F-U5 was an equivalent for Rem throwing his hand and screwing the subtlety. It was a high-power ballista meant to fire payload equal to A-rank magic through the dragon’s skull. Being the practical man, Rem decided to kill two birds with one stone. The architecture was simple, launched Luxinna’s overpower sword, the [Historia], at the dragon with as much power as Horizon Dawn could pack in it. Luxinna charged the sword. Melody, Scathach and Ebony manufactured the launcher, while Cytortia and Rem designed the alchemical launching system powered by Burning Sunshine. However, they had one more problem before F-U5 activated. Thankfully, the problem was not the dragon. The damage the gang piled at it this last hour pretty much delivered the dragon to its last leg. Technical competence wasn’t the problem either. Scathach pre-assembled the launcher and stored it in her Storage Stone gear. No, the main problem was interference from the morons. “This isn’t good,” Cytortia panicked as the adventurer prepare there spell. “They will start before we set up. What do we—Lux?” “I already charged the sword!” Luxinna ignored Cytortia and rushed toward the assembling adventurers while arming her smoke bomb. “I will distract them, just fire the shot.” The goddess shut up and focused on the task. In her heart, the young girl prayed for this nightmare to be over as soon as possible. … A well-hone instinct woke Aion up in his cell. The cell was sparsed. Bloodstain dyed the grey brick of the floor and walls. Single torch beside the cell door provided the only illumination. Time to time, the flame would flicker, wavering the shadow of the metal bar separating the former Guildmaster from freedom. Aion’s eyes were anxious with hopelessness. His healing passive already fixed his ruptured eardrum and injuries, but it didn’t heal the abyss of defeats in his stomach. The iron shackled chaining him to the wall acted as a permanent reminder of his inevitable failure in the face of overwhelming power. The depressing reminiscence was interrupted by the crashing sound of two guards tumbling down the stair. Aion looked up to see a red-hair woman in a black cloak and white-masked stepping into the dungeon. This woman couldn’t be more than a young girl, but there was something very familiar about her. The former Guildmaster exchanged glances between her and the unconscious guard. What was she doing here? “Guildmaster Aion,” the young woman started. “Former Guildmaster,” Aion corrected self-depreciatingly. “Fine,” She sighed, unfurling a piece of paper right in front of him. “You are being reinstated.” “That is impossible. Illma would never allow it.” “Illma isn’t a problem. The dragon attacking the town and the Adventurer Guild blundering in front of it is the current hot topic. At this point, you are the only one who could stop this disaster, and I am here to get you out.” “You still believe they will listen to my order over Illma?” Aion spoke sadly. “She outranks me.” “Maybe, but there is someone who already does,” suddenly the red-hair woman shouted. “You can come here now.” Aion listened to another footstep incoming. To his surprise, it is the little girl, the girl who was taken away by Illma the last time he saw her. “Guildmaster!” The little girl ran toward the bar. “A-Are you okay?” “How did you find her?” “My friend checked the prison pretty thoroughly,” the red-hair girl snorted, not realizing the good she was doing. “The guard here is weak as hell. We cleared the place in five minutes. They should stick with at thirty instead of twenty weaklings. My friend found her here on the top floor.” The girl’s tone suddenly turned angry. “He left with me before going to deal with another personal business. That idiot always vanishes when you need him the most.” The girl turned toward the masked woman. “Miss, can you free the Guildmaster?” Then the girl remembered what her mother taught her about asking for help. “Please?” Beneath the mask, the face of Melody Solarmaria twitched up into a small smile. She could barely recall the last time anyone asked her nicely. That day her heart ballooned up five-times its size. “Don’t worry,” she consoled the girl. “Here, let me do this.” Melody lighted her hand on fire. She grasped the padlock on Aion’s cell and ripped the molten metal of its hinge. The girl swung the door opened and repeated the act on Aion’s shackles. “Now, please order your underling to stop.” “I understand,” Aion said. “But we need to get to the broadcaster.” “This prison has one already warm,” Melody narrated. “We just need to get going.” Aion and the little girl walked out of the cellar door toward their freedom. However, before the girl stepped out of the door, she smiled back ant old Melody the sentence she would never forget. “Thank you for everything, Miss,” the girl sweetly smiled. “I won’t forget what you do for us! You are welcome back anytime.” The girl left. Melody stood there, grateful for her mask because she didn’t think she could wipe a stupid grin from her face. … A few moments earlier, the adventurers met a rude interruption. “Everyone fir-“ A scantily cladded woman yelled, but a cloud of darkness exploded and severed off her command. Luxinna leaped across the air, gritting her teeth as her vision blurred. She was on her last leg. All her limbs wanted to collapse, and her headache was killing her. The True Magic she awakened and used against Illma already tapped her dry. Moreover, the injury she took during that battle wasn’t helping her pain tolerance. With forces holding her body falling apart, Luxinna forced her power to ignite one more time. One more shot, just one more before going empty. She had to make it count. [Serene Glass] weaved into existence, forming a spear with the broad head of [Static Glass] wrapped inside and [Serene Glass] coating. It was a warning shot. Luxinna could destroy the adventurers and end the threat with this improvised technique, but she was too selfish to do that. A hero who saved that lost little girl would never be a mass murderer. [Serene Glass: Overload Piercer] Luxinna let the attack flew. “What is that?” The young adventurer gasped at the golden lance above. “Who cares! keep attacking?” A scarred adventurer beside him yelled. The spear of lightning detonated before the single counter got cast. The sculpture ruptured, scattering high-speed powdered shards in an explosion. While discharge at such proximity would result in microscopic shards of glass obliterating any living body to shred into a pile of blood. Thankfully, through the combination of depleting stamina and distance, the spear destroying power got reduced somewhat. However, despite being a shadow of what it could be, the golden explosion still toppled half the remaining adventurers and shook all of the standing buildings. Everyone stared at the blast that must be over fifty-meter. How fast was that spear moving? How many of them could survive that attack directly? The spell alone must be worthy of a B-rank. Most of the adventurers wanted to cry. When did the exalted B-rank become such a common commodity? A split-second late was enough for the first among them to notice the thrower. Luxinna wanted to give herself a disappointing smile. She could imagine how she looked; an exhausted girl barely held onto her a weightless arm, trying to stay conscious despite her migraine. She was a drain. Her feet were so dead she couldn’t even dodge a punch from a kindergarten. Her clothing and body must look like a dying scarecrow. The bluff was busted; those eighty adventurers would gather themselves and blasted her to oblivion within seconds. But the adventurer saw a different image. What they saw emerging was a dark shadow wrapped in an ominous cloak. It was a mysterious and foreboding image right out of a childhood nightmare. Animal instinct told the eighty adventurers to run to the hill. That warning shot already told them everything. One wrong move and death itself would skin them alive. That was a moment a certain goddess armed the ballistae with the magic sword. Huffing like she just finished a marathon, Cytortia gave a shemp roar in an attempt to boost her morale and fired the sword. The Burning Sunshine combusted in a control explosion, powering the firing mechanism and propelled [Historia] into the dragon. The blade, forged from the blood of the strongest lightning-child of an entire generation, blessed by the most powerful entity that will ever exist and boosted by Cytortia, thundered toward the dragon. It was unstoppable, the raw recoil alone decimated its launcher into a pile of splinters and sent Cytortia flying. The mightiest Holy-Sword of Phantasia penetrated the unholy barrier of the beast and stabbed through its body. The lightning element, boosted by natural power, spread from the sword, exorcising the dragon and roasting it from within. The walking corpse of the lizard took one longing glance at the sky before roaring as it barely living soul imploded. The dragon eyes went dark, and it collapses to the ground dead. “What just happen?” The scantily cladded adventurer said to no one in particular. That was when the message dropped. ‘This is Guildmaster Aion. With my newly reinstate position as a Guildmaster of Millian, I suspend Special Responder Illma Zoldia Road’s Emergency Charter. Road will now be under investigation from a breach of protocol, directly causing harm to the citizens, failure to respond to evacuation protocol. and misinterpretation of threat level endangering the area. All adventurers responding to the crisis must withdraw while the investigation remains pending. This order is effective immediately.’ Every adventurer stood blankly at that bombshell of information while the masked figure silently retreated to the shadow. And that was how the Millian incident publicly end. But privately, it ended differently. … Illma Zoldia Road crawled into her ships. When she first arrived here, she came in a beautiful red dress with the force of the X-cution unit behind her. The mayor himself greeted her like a serf beneath her boot. Even the representative of the mighty Emma clan prostrated her authority. Then misfortune struck, now she got nothing but a cloth on her back, and a charred stumped where her hand used to be. Illma gritted her teeth, she couldn’t feel her broken rib, but that the injury was unignorable. She needed to heal and come back here with every X-cution unit at her disposal. Damned it all her deal with Chuang. That elf won’t escape her wrath. Nothing else mattered other than seeing the head of the damned cockroach on a pike. Illma walked toward the cockpit, so monofucus she missed the glowing red visor watching her. She only noticed the invader when a cold metal pressed against her back. “I don’t know your ability,” said the muffled voice of Remus Breaker. “But I will presume it something to do with a killing pain I felt in my rib. Judging on how you hold yourself, you probably transfer your pain elsewhere. So here is a deal, one more magical fuckery, and I will put a bullet in your spine. Do I make myself clear?” The voice and its threat sent a shiver down her spine. How did this happen? How did he get here? “You must be wondering how am I here in your seemingly secure airship?” Rem said. “I am not obliged to answer you, but I would say your security is pretty fragile to overcharging. I have to say you are mega sloppy, coming onto the ship without noticing the lock already broke. Not that it matters much, I already put a few rounds into the engine as a redundancy.” Illma froze. This guy was trouble. He held all the cards, and in her injured state, she was at his mercy. “I am an Untouchable!” Illma yelled, trying to convince herself more than her terrifying captor. “You can’t kill me. The Seven Continental Alliance will never let you off.” “Oh, so it the same old I-have-a-backer threat. Where do you think you are? China?” Rem deadpanned. “Here is the reveal, Illma. By the time this month is over, you won’t be an Untouchable anymore.” “You act like you could manipulate the entire Alliance!” “Oh, I can,” Rem replied apathetically. “Think about this. What earns you the special responder status? Is it your fighting skill? Your charisma? No, it is the X-cution production method in your brain. Let imagine this scenario: you are captured by a person who got access to both Alchemist bright enough to invent a truth serum and an engineer who led the X-cution exoskeleton project. Now how long would you think it would take to ply the X-cution data from your brain, upgraded it, and released it to the public. Not long, I guess.” Rem whispered into Illma’s ears. “Think about it. A personal army you can build without sacrificing any children, all available to the public domain. It will make you obsolete. The Seven Continental Alliance would revoke your status faster than I can list my friend in the Anti-defamation League. After that, you will be a walking liability without anything to offer more than replaceable flashy magic. You lost Illma. Karma will come in all its fury when your protection goes bye-bye." Illma listened to all of this, and she refused to acknowledge it. Deep down, she knew Rem got her. There was no way she came out intact. But how could this be, she was the heaven ascended Illma Zoldia Road. How could this happen to her? “It won’t happen,” Illma cried. “I am the chosen one. I won’t-“ Bang! Bang! Bang! A bullet slammed into her spine, another in her leg, and one more in her shoulder. Illma toppled to the floor, groaning. “Well, you can be a chosen goddess from Heaven, but you bleed," Rem handcuffed Illma to the pilot seat. "And if you bleed, you can be defeated." Rem left to rejoin the other. It was a mistake, proving that even the most tactical knight could falter.

Hikma De Darwin sank against a wall. He didn’t believe anyone would come to find him. After what he had been through the last month, he couldn’t bring himself to believe he was worth anything. Now, sitting in the decrepit edge in the capital city Venistalis, he looked at the cloudy sky above the Grand Empire and reflected on how he ended up leaning on this godforsaken wall. The rainfall helped masked his tears. … Like many, Hikma found himself lost a quarter of a year ago when Earth merged into Phantasia. Unlike many, he took to the situation admirably. After the initial bout of confusion, the young man gathered his bearing and found himself in the best place he could be--a ruin. As a son of French Archeologist and an Egyptian Physician, Hikma was always fascinated by history. The ruin, the lore, the mystery; all of those colorful texts absorb him ever since he was a young boy. He dreamt of being a discoverer who adventured the world in a path to expand human knowledge. That was why the ruin fascinated him so much. He could spend lifetimes recording and speculating each letter, inscriptions, and illustrations. Alas, he didn’t have many days. “Hello, sir,” said the voice of a girl. “Are you lost during the world transition?” Hikma turned to see an entourage staring at him like he was a madman. A blonde girl in a white dress stood in front of the group with a half-hearted smile at the boy who was busily looking at the dreary old rock as if they were gold. Next to her, a woman in a military uniform looked eyed the boy like he was rotten fruit. Behind them all, a man in a sophisticated gear and glass looked at the Hikma with pity. Hikma instantly distrusted the entourage, but he did trust the girl. Even with that half-heart smile, he could still feel his heart beating faster when she approached him. She was the most beautiful thing he ever saw. “Princess Velnia of Starland,” she said. “I am here to collect you.” … The week after that first meeting was the best the boy ever had. Hikma never felt that happy. Not since his father died in a terrorist attack. Barring the company she kept, Velnia was an excellent host. “Your father is an archeologist?” Velnia blinked. “So he studies ancient ruins?” “Yes,” Hikma said enthusiastically. “He loved staying and studying the artifact. He said it was an honor to help humanity rediscovered their past.” “loved?” Velnia asked. “Did he-“ “Yes,” Hikma looked down. “He died three years ago--a week after my birthday.” “I am so sorry.” Hikma sadly reflected on how his mother passed away from Cholera before his twelve-birthday. Lost was something natural to every human. It was what his father used to teach him. Through lost, people found a way to treasure what truly mattered. The scar from his sadness would never vanish, but because of it, he becomes much wiser. “So how did he died,” a woman in a military uniform. “Trip over a staircase?” “Mercia!” “Come on, Princess,” the military woman, Mercia, said. “He is the son of paper-pushing ruin dweller. Those types of people are losers. What is the-“ “Explosion,” Hikma’s tone was cheerless. “A terrorist group blew up the street with a car bomb. My father rushed in to help get people to safety, but nobody realized they planted a second explosive.” Mercia’s mouth hung open. Then she went silent. “Mercia,” Velnia said. “You own Mr. Darwin an apology.” Mercia twitched with rage. “Dream on,” Mercia said through gritted teeth. “His father might have a gut, but I will never apologize to a paper-pushing weakling. Who in this world needs a bunch of old books and stories? What was the point of studying a painting of a caveman? I never understand those ignorant fools in Balperia, chasing and arguing about a historical discrepancy. Did history help win us a war? Did it help me become richer? Heh, more like a subject for an irredeemable weakling who had nothing else to do.” Velnia tried to argue, but she closed her mouth as the fight went out of her. Hikma turned silent. “At least, histories teach me everyone loses in a war.” “A weakling who never touches glory will say that,” Mercia smirked. “And there is no one weaker than you.” Hikma did not argue that point. He still remembered what was on his Status ID. … Hikma De Darwin Stat Str: 22 [E] End: 88 [E] Mag: 105 [E] Wis: 390 [C] Dex: 80 [E] Skill Active Decode [C] Passive Memoria Revision [N/A] … That night the sophisticated man called him into a room. Velnia told him all he needed to know about this man.  Albert Starling was the personal tutor of the Princess and one of the Starland king’s advisors. He rose quickly through the court with his fast growth in both power-level and political momentum. The man in front of him also had a spiderweb of followers under his faction, which firmly grasped a massive portion of Tengen’s continent politic.  Albert was also known for his recruitment talent and vision to spot and nurture talent. Velnia had nothing but praises to say about that particular aspect of his. That was why Hikma couldn’t help but felt a bit deflated that such visionary was looking at him as a beggar on the street. “Do you know where we are heading, Hikma?” Albert said. “Velnia said it is the capital of the Grand Empire.” “Yes,” Albert nodded. “Venistalis. The capital of civilization in this continent. But let me follow this with another question: do you know why we are going there?” Silence. “No, sir,” Hikma finally said. “I will be honest with you here, boy,” Albert said. “Velna is going to meet her fiancé.” Inside Hikma’s chest, a particular first crush got smashed under an anvil. “Fiancé?” Hikma replied a bit louder. “Velnia couldn’t be more than fifteen.” “Do you know anything about Starland, boy,” Albert coldly asked. Again, Hikma turned silent. “Starland is a country residing in another continent. We are ancient and powerful enough to be a part of the Seven Continental Alliance. Velnia is our Crown Princess. I will be kind to you, Hikma,” Albert squinted. “I notice how you look at the Princess, but I recommend that you forget about that puppy love of yours.” Albert reproachfully looked at him. “You two have a different status. The Princess will be betrothed to royalty or one of the 33 stars. A talentless weakling like you who believe that you have a chance is ridiculously insulting. I won’t take offense for your earlier transgression, but the guard outside the door certainly would. Do you understand me?” Hikma gritted his teeth. “I understand, sir.” “Good,” Albert clasped his hand together. “Now, don’t feel down. You might be a talentless weakling with a meager power level that even more pathetic than most humans, but I believe you have a use. Strangely enough, the Princess like you.” Hikma felt a little bit more hopeful, but Albert following sentence crushed that hope further. “There are not many people the Princess opens her heart too,” Albert said. “This makes convincing her to marry a certain candidate incredibly difficultly. You see, Hikma. Starland needed powerful allies, and this marriage will sweeten many contracts I plan to make. The fact that you are so worthless is also a good point. No one will possibly take you seriously.” “You want me to manipulate Velnia for you,” Hikma couldn’t help but feel a tad disgusted at the thought. “Yes,” Albert said. “I know you only arrive on Phantasia, and your commoner background meant you have difficulties adjusting, so I will let you have some time to think. Oh, don’t try to tell Velna about this. You only have a value of a replaceable pawn, Hikma. I have a hundred similar plans that ensured success. You are getting this offer because I pity your useless purpose. If one word of this conversation leak to Mercia or the Princess, I will know, and you will end up where all the worthless pieces eventually go. Do you understand, Mr. Darwin.” “I understand, sir.” … Alas Hikma didn’t even get a chance to answer. It all happened when he arrived at the capital. Albert took the Princess out to talk to her fiancé, leaving Hikma alone with Mercia. The woman looked at him pitifully and left with a nasty smile on her face.  Hikma should have known better from that smile alone, but by the time he realized what happened, it was too late. A bunch of guards approached him by surprise. And with the speed and reflex beyond human-level, they dragged the boy into the nearby alley. Hikma didn’t realize that Mercia chose where the entourage stayed. He never recognized the fact that the nearby dark alley would be a perfect place to get a jump on him.  The naïve boy never realized how often this happened and how little people cared about a random boy getting a beating in the alley. “Oof!” A punch slammed into Hikma’s stomach. The boy fell flat on the floor, and a kick in the face slammed his head in the wall. “Filthy. Sand. Dweller,” A guard emphasized each point with a kick in the stomach. “A filthy orphan from Elybit like you chatting up with the Princess. Just seeing you together with her makes me want to puke.” “He is not from Elybit, Jones,” one of the guards corrected. “He is from Earth.” “Oh, you mean the fresh meat that just joins Phantasia,” one of the guards sneered. “That place is even worse. It is practically in the countryside.” Another guard lifted the beaten Hikma by the neck and punched him in the face. “A country bumpkin with a power-level lower than 700,” a guard sneered. “I heard your main stat is wisdom. Heh!” He spat on Hikma. “Get a look, wise-guy. Wisdom doesn’t help your ass right now.” Hikma coughed, and another kick slammed into his head. Blood dripped from the cut in his forehead as he struggled to get up, but a mild shove from a foot sent him sprawling back on the floor. “No magic attribute,” a new guard slammed a kick that lifted Hikma from the ground. “Barely any passive skill.” A man delivered another kick. “The reason you are still alive this past month because you are hiding behind the Princess’s skirt.” “Boss, I heard he want to be one of those ruin dwelling scholars.” “Oh,” the guard stepped on Hikma’s head. “You want to study some ruin. Are you a sissy who thinks this world is a nice place, little miss. Here, let me teach you how to man up.” A guard tossed his sword in front of the bruised Hikma. “Okay, weakling, show me what you got,” the man said. “Pick the sword up and take a swing. I will even let you have a feel shot at me. I won’t even dodge. Come on!” Hikma’s hand reached for the blade. Indignation coursed to his artery, but before he could unsheathe the weapon, a memory surfaced in his mind. He remembered what his mother said to him when she wasted away on her deathbed. You are a gentle child, Hikma, His dying mother said. Promise me you will always be kind. Hikma looked at the sword in his hand and his tormentor. He closed his eyes and cast away the weapon of a killer. The goading man looked at the boy with disgusted. He knew the boy was angry, but at the last moment, he tossed the weapon aside instead of lashing out. Somehow that very act brought a feeling he never felt before. Shame. However, anger quickly replaced it. “You damned brat!” The man picked the sword from the ground and took a swing at the waiting Hikma. Surprisingly, the rest of his comrade panicked and leaped in to stop him. “Stop it, Walter!” One of the guards yelled. “Mercia never told us anything about killing him.” “Yes, Commander Mercia might convince the Princess that he got his injury from a training slip-up, but there will be no excuse for us if he ends up dead!” Finally, the man calmed down. “Okay, boy,” he glowed at Hikma. “You got beaten up during training. If the Princess and Lord Albert mention anything differently, you are dead, understand!” Hikma nodded. “And stay well away from the Princess,” the barked venomously. “A weakling like you will never be worthy of her.” The man spat on the boy one more time and left with his cronies. As for Hikma, he had enough. He picked himself up and staggered away from that alley, and the entourage of pain, as far as he could. He walked, blood dripping from his wound. He kept putting on foot forward another in the street where no one came to help him. Hikma didn’t know where he got stranded up. The capital city was so large, and despite the people sociably mingling, no one paid attention to the half-dead child stumbling his way across the street. Hikma’s eyes blurred. He wanted to curse this new world and blame the uncaring people in this city, the cruel evil that hurt him, but he knew that was wrong.  The gentle boy knew two wrong would never make right.  The sky was darkening to make things worse. Exhausted beyond believe, Hikma gave up and looked for a place to rest. Strangely enough, he saw a faint multicolor ray of light—a brightness that reminded him of his love for adventure—guiding him into a section of a wall. He crawled that spot and dozed off. A voice of an angel echoed in his ear. “Rest Hikma, the heart of my knights. You are home now. Don’t let the word of the unworthy ant trouble you, my child. You are a hundred times the man they ever are. Sleep. You have much to do, Chronicler.” Hikma cried among the rain and dozed off from his pain. … Hikma woke up to the comfortable green light. He noticed someone was holding an umbrella over him, shielding him from the rain. He pried his eyes opened to see two women: black-hair girl with a long pointy ear holding an umbrella with a murderous look on her face and a petite homely looking blonde who was shining a comfortable green light on his battered body. “Who are you, people?” Hikma said, trying to get up. However, the blonde girl pressed him to the ground with a warning. “Don’t move!” She cried. “You broke several ribs. And your arm is fractured. I have several medical supplies with me, so hold still while I fix you up.” “More importantly, tell me who did this to you,” The pointy ears girl growled. “I will tie them up and sent them to Rem for some quality time.” “Hold on, Lux,” the goddess panicked. “Phantasia doesn’t have an insane asylum. We don’t want more people going insane as Port did!” “Who are you, people?” Hikma repeated. It was the first time in this new strange world someone other than Velnia treated like a fellow human. The blonde girl offered her hand. “Err,” she cringed. “My name is Cytortia, and this is Luxinna. We are part of an up and coming organization arranged by an all-powerful goddess of good as a final barricade to save the world. Think of us as-“ Cytortia turned toward Luxinna, who finished the girl sentence for her lost friend. “Think of us as a bunch of Superman emulator. My friend calls it Superheroes. Our boss said that the fifth member on her recruitment list would be—and I quote—a young Archeologist with the gentlest heart who certainly doesn’t deserve the deal he got. She says we will find that person lying here.  Hikma managed a laugh. “Well, you find him.” The girls looked at each other. “Okay, so will you join us?” Cytortia asked with an awkward smile. Hikma reflected at what happened to him today and what was waiting for him at the entourage. He took a second to compare that deal to the offer made by these two strange girls who seemed to care about him. Moreover, the gentle voice he heard before his sleep helped ease his decision along. “Yeah, it couldn’t be worse than what I went through today, so are you fine with having a weakling in your little gang.” “Dude,” Luxinna said. “I am going to quote my friend here: there is no weakling, only a weak leader.” After hearing that, Hikma knew he made the right choice. … That was the story of how the King of Sorcery joined the Horizon Dawn’s Premier. It was the most unforgivable mark of Starland, leading to one important lesson: always be kind to a stranger.

It was the most romantic night Princess Velnia ever had. Arms in arms, Orwell took her on tour to meet with many nobles she never met. Most held astronomically high position in the Seven Continental Alliance. Some held special positions in the Isle of Knowledge. Albert Starling could not contain his excitement. The young tutor believed that his popular phase finally arrived. The night was his stairway to fame, and he rocked it like a concert. “Lord Mehest, is this wine from Elypt?” Albert said, downing an entire wine-glass. Orwell smiled back at the young minister and poured Albert another glass. “Yes, you have quite an excellent tongue, lord Starling,” Orwell Mehest complimented. “This is quite a rare wine. Elypt’s climate make it impossible to mass-produce this quality of beverage. However, my mother always said we can replace treasures, but not friendship. I believe this drink is quite a great token to celebrate the bond between the House of Mehest and Starland.” “You are too humble, lord Mehest!” Starling laughed. Orwell kept smiling as he walked to the Princess. The young maiden gazed from the floating island, suspended in the air with the wide landscape of Venistalis spread out beneath her. The young girl absorbed the sight of those beautiful lights glittering inside the darkened city. Tonight, the city shone like pearls beneath the black ocean. “It is beautiful,” Velnia said, taking Orwell’s hand and holding it close. “Yes, it is quite a breathtaking sight, isn’t it?” Orwell said. “All those lights is like candles guarded by the nobility. I normally come here when in doubt, and whenever I see the glorious images, my hesitation disappears.” Princess Velnia turned to look at the princely young man. “Lord Orwell, is my forgiveness is wrong?” Orwell perked up. “Hal Jordan’s words still troubled you, my dear Princess?” Velnia nodded. Orwell wrapped his arms around the Princess and let her leaned into his shoulder. He sang the sweet words, sinking the Princess into the comfort his shoulder provided. “Forgiveness is only wrong when you forgive people who don’t deserve it,” Orwell said. “Princess, your view that everyone can live together is a grand ambition, but in this world, there are some people who cannot be forgiven. Peace is only possible when no debt remained — only a clean slate will heal the world.” The Princess looked into Orwell’s eyes. They were warm and sincere. The girl reflected at Rem’s lecture. He exposed the flaw in her ideology. People couldn’t forgive each other easily. Orwell was correct to tell her paradise was impossible to realize without a clean slate. “No need to get discouraged, Velnia,” Orwell comforted her doubt. “I will help bring the clean-slate to the world. I promise I will bring your paradise to reality.” “Really?” Velnia whispered, wrapping herself around Orwell’s arms. “Yes,” Orwell said. “I promise with my title as a gentleman.” Velia closed her eyes and dreamily cuddled the man she trusted. Albert cheered from inside his heart, and the peeping Mercia clenched her fist triumphantly. ... Hikma De Darwin was busily trying to save Venistalis. As one of the two Earthling in Horizon Dawn, he had been typing on Za Wa for a furious hour. They narrowed the suspect down — way down. However, the data was still too wide. He once dismissed that crazy idea. But the more he dug into the case, the more Rem’s suggestion looked like their only hope. But how would they summoned the greatest and most apathic detective on Earth to this case The main problem was that they got a bunch of data-points and no context. Za Wa already pinpointed all the murders in Venistalis, but it was too large of a focus group. To make the matter worse, Hikma was never a good detective, and Rem sucked at data-analysis. The young French-Arab boys sorted through the file of the murder victims Shyme sent them—the people they couldn’t save. Two more already joined the list today. Hikma wanted to blast the wall to piece. He wondered what did that beast-girl thought when she assembled these papers? Did Shyme Enma believed these names of forever lost men and women was only a statistic points? Hikma was a Christian like his father, but he wasn’t that religious. However, tonight, in the modified, steel-plated hangout, he sent a silent prayer for hope. Hikma wanted power—the power to reduce the pages. Even a single paper would be enough. He didn’t want to see people die like his father. Suddenly, he heard rustling papers. “Is this the newest victim?” Rem whispered. The boy returned to work from the party without bothering to change. His suit hung loose, the tie tossed like it worth nothing, and his shirt unbuttoned, revealing a body sweating from running back at full-speed. “Yeah,” Hikma said. “Don’t go into the detail. It will only depress you.” Rem skimmed through the note. He closed it. “Hikma,” Rem said. “It is time to summon the World Greatest Detective.” Hikma perked up. “But you said they won’t take the case? Those guys are not a private army, and they are assholes.” Rem showed him the file. “Not this one,” Rem tapped the image of a cat-girl on the front-page. “Our enemy just go too far. They will mobilize with her as a spearhead. We only needed to supply the information, and given the connection I make tonight, we might lay the foundation for our investigation work for years to come.” “Are you sure they will help us?” “They will, if it is fun,” Rem walked toward Za Wa. “Now give me the keyboard. I must make the meme.” Hikma stood up and watched Rem booted up an image-board. For many, it was the prison to contain Earth’s greatest extremist, but Rem called it home. It was the place holding the best and the worse of mankind. This one site alone achieved so many miracles in the past and right now the paladin of good throw their faith into the avatar of chaos. They put their hope into the entity mightier than the CIA. “Are you sure about this?” “We are pulling down gods, Hikma,” Rem replied distressfully. “We need an army. Even if it not our personal one.” That night—crossed the world—the thread depicting a gruesome murder of a young cat-girl in Venistalis went live. A reply came. It was a shitpost followed by a demand for vengeance. Rem responded with a meme and a data-drop. Perhaps it was the Center Force, perhaps something else, but the post soon get flooded. For the denizen of that site, it was the first information about Venistalis they received. That factor combined with the blatant oversight and the victim’s gender and species tuned the storm above eleven. Operation: Pedo Hunt had begun. … Several mornings later [Conceptual Seals] surrounding Hikma glowed as he unleashed a rampaging wave of flames and waters. Melody faced the attacks head-on and responded with a breath of fire. Luxinna leapt into the sky and flung a shard of electrically charged glasses at the two. The demoness roared, cracking the glasses with the thunderous sonic waves. Hikma conjured up the seal of sand and reduced the elf’s attack to ash. The boy quickly fell from exhaustion a moment later. “Good job, boy,” Scathach said. “Your stamina and the number of [Conceptual Seal] is progressing at an impressive rate. Melody, your respond was great as always. Great evasion coming from you Luxinna. All of you take a five-minutes break and start doing the warm-up set.” Melody groaned. “How come Rem and Cytortia got to skip the training!?” “Cytortia needed to meet with Shyme and a certain hot-head bitch,” Scathach said. “And I won’t envy Rem if I were you. His job is immensely more difficult than warm up.” “You know where Rem is going?” Hikma said. Scathach shivered.  “He is pitching a start-up.” … Rem watched the tea pour down the cup of China. The Madam sat Infront of him, smiling chummily. The Madam knew what he was coming. Although Rem was privy to too much knowledge, most miracles still escape his comprehension. Namely, the fact the strawberry shortcake wasn’t crumbling under pressure. “So young man,” the Madam said. “You want to pitch a business.” “Yes, Madam Marmel,” Rem said. “Good,” the Madam replied. “You have ambition, Mr. Jordan. Contrary to what your files said about you. Yes, I have a file on you, young man. Among all the people in the parties few nights ago, you are the one I am really interested in. Not the nobles. Not Orwell. Not the Heavenly Daughters. You.” “I am nothing special, Madam.” “Remus Breaker, born 3rd of March at New York Presbyterian Hospital—Columbia and Cornell,” the Madam recited from memory. “Homeschooled from the age of 3 to 9. Attend a prestigious private school at 10. Rumor said you apprenticed as an associate under the Argento Mafia at 13. At 14, you went to England for further study, severing all contact with your friends and families. Secretly, you work with Argento's influence in England, Liverpool. You dropped from the radar after the merge with Phantasia and reappeared again in Millian with Cytortia. And your cousin, Juliet Breaker, is a total moron.” Rem needed to admit the Madam get him right down to the gang. “Your report is accurate down to the moron.” The Madam frowned. “Yes, I have to say your resume is impressive,” the Madam said. “But there are one thing I can’t unearth about you: your first kill.” “You can’t find it because it don't exist,” Rem said. “I handled the laundering, smuggling, interrogation, spying, investigation, and diplomatic mission. But I and Antonio have an understanding about resorting to murder.” “And drugs,” the Madam added. “You and Antonio Argento purged the narcotic trade from Argento's territories in one of the quietest gang wars I have ever seen. I admit how fascinating it is to see a hardened criminal care more about community than the police.”  The Madam laughed at Rem's alarmed expression. “No need to fret. If I want to rat out you and your associate, I would have done it yesterday,” the Madam said. “We both understand getting rid of crime was impossible. The best way to minimize the syndicate violence is to repurpose it. Your gang is an excellent example. Although there are some underground dealing, the Argento grew more of its philanthropic branches. The testimony I read hardly support the image of a ruthless band of murderers.” “That the funniest thing about the gang,” Rem replied. “Do you know the term Mafia is a slang for acting as protector against the arrogance and the powerful? That is part of the reason we don’t drink with cops—we can’t trust the government. I believe you appreciate the reason.” The Madam nodded. No matter which world they arrived from, the authority was slow and stubborn to the point of ritualism. “Then explain to me how the protector against the powerful transform into killers.” Rem laughed. “Sin of history,” Rem explained nostalgically. “The Mafia are originally groups which form to protect themselves against invaders. The problem was we got the funding from protection money and the chaos around the area. Many slippery slopes later, the gang lost it moral down the line, resulting in the syndicate we see today.” “You know a lot about your histories.” “It is one of the first thing the boss taught me,” Rem said. “Portion of us, the boss for one, want to return to the old days. They might be ruthless men, but that didn’t mean they don’t have a heart.” “I look at your report and it is strange,” the Madam commented. “You are sponsored directly by the boss of an international syndicate and taught every method under the book. You never kill, but the gang member seemed to respect you.” “I excel at making people talk,” Rem said The Madam nodded. The Mafia never officially inducted the boy, but given the task he handled, it was only because the gang worried about his age. While joining the Mafia during the teenage years was not unprecedented, Antonio Argentum worried too much about the boy to anoint him as a true criminal. More surprising was the unanimous agreement from the family’s core. They respected Rem, but they also felt apprehensive about him. Now that Madam sat before the boy. She knew what the Mafia saw in him and fully agreed with their decision. Rem lacked bloodlust or ambition. The only thing the Madam sensed from him was a pit of nihilism barely sealed by hope and moral. If the seal ever broke, a horrendous monster would emerge. It would be a monster that held nothing back until the world died in chaos and submitted into its twisted vision. Antonio must feel this alien hollowness too and did everything in his power to temper this immense darkness. No, the Madam realized, it wasn’t darkness. It was light, but one too blinding. Flare so blinding it could wipe out the Earth. The boy reminded Marmel of one particular girl. She only saw the vampire once. The face of a beautiful girl tainted with veins of blood. Unlike the boys, madness and rage drowned her, but upon reviewing the footage of that girl’s bloody massacre, the Madam perceived it was something different. Despair.  It was an immense loss of hope that only motivated by rage and regret. That girl was also another time bomb that constantly leaking out radiation. If that rage were to mutate, the entire world would have to deal with a darkness that leaved swallowed everything. The boy was an excess of white. The girl was a black maelstrom. The Madam foresaw that inevitable meeting between these two bombs. It was destiny. Fate already pitted the clash between endless Nihilism and Despair. “You want to pitch an idea,” the Madam said. “What is your business proposal?” “I have several actually,” Rem said, bringing out a stack of papers. “I can also answer you about the recent spike in crime rate. But first, I have to introduce someone.” The door to the illustrious living room swung opened. A high-end leather soles struck the carpet and a middle-man ripped with muscle walked inside the room. He was clean-shaven, but sharply dressed in a black suit. The Madam noticed the scars on his hand. They were the battle-scars depicting many bloody fights he won. “May I introduce you to a friend of mine who I ran into a week ago,” Rem said. “Aleksei Martynov, my friend from England. He is one of our quartermasters.” “Oh, I have a lot about him; former secret service, thirty confirm kills. He helped you disguised the napalm you smuggled inside the narcotic truck during the Argentum War.” Martynova and Rem looked surprised. “Oh, don’t hunt down the survivor,” the Madam said. “Shamanic Ritual is an impressive magic to piece event together. I recommended your family to step up your game, dear. Phantasia is much more sinister than Earth.” Martynova laughed. “You arrange quite an interesting meeting, cugino,” Martynov said. “So, what is it this week? Did the young lady want more guns?” Rem produced two folders. “Not much good news,” Rem said, taking out two folders from his case. “And yes, we need guns and ammunition; an entire stock if possible.” “An entire stock?” Martynov accepted the folder. “Who are you going to war against?” “The detail is in the folder,” Rem briefed. “But to keep my answer short. An insane sorcerer, royal-mages, and the dead. I recommend both of you to pull out your investment and redoubled your liquid cash. The post-war development will be lucrative if the city survive.” The Madam flipped to the paper and frowned. “My god, this explain everything,” the Madam said. “But it couldn’t be that bad. Venistalis is not lacking S-classes to deal with this threat.” “Yes,” Rem admitted. “But-” Aleksei Martynov finished Rem’s sentence for him. “But if scums poke their head into what is yours, either they are fools or they are prepared,” Martynov said as he skimmed the briefing sternly. “And I killed enough fools to recognize these people aren’t. Can you preemptively remove the threat, cugino?” “I believe it involves a 33 Stars” “*****,” Aleksi cursed depressively. “I have to call the boss. Only he can arrange such a transaction.”

Colonel Chuang Tuskar trekked across the broken battlefield. Her armor was missing their greaves. Her once shining pauldron caked with crack and blood. The proud commanders’ eyes scanned the battlefield, barren with life and hope. The image killed any trace of light she once held. Once upon the time she was the rising stars of the military. She accomplished much in her colorful career, achieving wealth, status and power through hard work and perseverance. Then one day, her leader declared war against an opposing nation after a massive diplomatic failure on their border. Several climactic series of battles later finally saw herself beheading the enemy—the witch queen Talaina Rosary. But the war cost her everything. Her cities, razed. The coffee chop she enjoyed was now a smoldering wreck. Her subordinate Cindy Tia died, protecting her from a surprise attack. Chuang sobbed. Why couldn’t that girl survive? Cindy was kind. The heart of her platoon. The greatest friend from her grunt’s days. Among the people who died, why it must be Cindy. Amid her melancholy, Chuang heard the galloping sound of hooves. “Chuang,” her mentor—Prime Minister Navia—slipped from her horse and rushed to the despairing colonel. “Are you okay?” “Prime Minister,” Chuang fell into the arm of the only companion she had left. “The war will be over now, right? Everything will be okay now, isn’t it?” “Yes, Tuskar,” the Prime Minister responded. “Everything is over.” Chuang felt the pin prickling her exposed nape. Strength went out of her body. Prime Minister Navia let the paralyzed Chuang fell to the ground with a look of relief on her face and tossed the poisoned needle away in disgust. “Why, Prime Minister,” the Colonel looked up at the friend who betrayed her. “Sorry about this, Tuskar,” said the Prime Minister. “You help wind us the war, but it isn’t enough. We are being invaded from the south by the Octavius Breaker.” “Octavius Breaker?” “That opportunistic bastard is waiting for us to war it out with Rosary before invading,” the Prime Minister told her. “His army already took our capital. I barely escape alive.” “Then why? We could fight him together?” “With what?” Prime Minister ranted, turning away from her friend and screeched at the sky. “A demoralized populace who hate us? Our decimated army? The granary that ran out of grain a month ago? This country is dead, Colonel. The only option I have is to guarantee my survival.” “How?” Chuang’s raw willpower got her to her knee. “Octavius wants a symbol to parade his victory. That will either be you or me. I am too important to get parade like a spoil of war. It is yours duty to die for me, so why don’t you repay me for all those favors and…” Chuang roared and pounced at Navia in a trance of rage, sadness and despair. She didn’t recall what happened next. Next thing she knew, she was sitting on the earth reddened with blood. Chuang now resembled a monster, stinking of bile and rusted iron. Her armor -- soaked in crimson fluid, body parts and gores belonging to Navia -- was the evidence for the grisly violence scattering the Prime Minister's pieces across the red dirt. The former Colonel spat out a mouthful of human meat, unsheathed the pen Navia gifted her as a present for her promotion, prepared to puncture her own throat and end her life. The pen scattered into crimson poppies. The barren ground faded to black like closing curtain ending the performance. Chuang stared in confusion for a second before the stream of memories assaulted her. She remembered being a witch beloved by many, but a sudden outbreak of conflict led to the end of everything she held dear. Her last memory of that life was being brutally raped by the invading battalion before the mountain of her people’s corpse. She died in the pillory without a single ally to aid her. She remembered being a princess in a royal court. She schemed for the crown and succeeded, but that night, one of the many victims of her betrayal led the army of mistreated populace into her castle. Her magic was helpless after her servants secretly poisoned her nightgown. Her ill-treatment of the people below her resulted in her dear brother being beheaded before her eyes and her body torn to shred by the mass. She remembered being born a street orphan, rescued from the street by a lovely prince who taught her everything she knew. In return for his kindness, she worked as his shadow, slaying many for his ascension. After finally become king, the prince called her to his chamber and sent her to a final assassination. That fateful mission ended with her prince charming stabbing her and revealing her father was the target. The prince kidnap her as a baby and secretly shaped her as a weapon for her entire life. She died without even the will to curse his name. Memories after memories flooded her brain. In some, she was a pauper. In some, she was rich. Each time, Chuang would climb to the height of life and fell through her own selfishness, obliviousness or a factor off her control. All of her death was pitiful. Lifetimes of trauma tore her mind. The Heavenly Daughter threw up. All dignity vanished to the windy air. She begged those nightmares to stop. Anything to change those lives. Just one was enough. When did hope become scarcer than gold? “You ask for hope despite being a destroyer of one?” Remus Breaker materialized from the shadow behind her. “Hilarious. People like you always beg when karma catch up. Nothing is wrong at all when you trample on innocent people, but when someone return the favor, you plead for mercy.” Chuang turned to confront her worst nightmare. “Please stop,” the goddess prayed through her snot and tears. The influx of pain, humiliation and soul-crushing regret was too much for her stature to handle. Her beauty and pride as the Heavenly Daughter hit the floor like smashed porcelain. Reduce to pieces of rag, she crawled to her tormentor for mercy. “You want that information right. I will tell you everything. Just let me go. I will never come after her majesty Cytortia again. I will never appear before you again. I promise. I-” “A promise from a deity doesn’t worth a damn,” Rem booted her in the face. “I already yanked all the information I needed when your mental defense collapsed eight simulations ago.” The scampering Chuang flinched. “Why-“ “Why am I still keeping you here, in a hyper realistic mental simulation of tragedies after tragedies?” Rem finished her sentence. “Because you trample on people for benefit and sell yourself to cruelty for power. Your action created an uncaring world which spawn me — a reactionary force — to keep karmic balance in-check.” Rem knelt down and picked yanked Chuang up by her hair. “Dear, I am not a devil from beyond. I am a preview of the monsters your action birthed. I don’t want to be a horror, but I am one, the least I can do is cashing payment for my creation.” Chuang sobbed. “Please,” Chuang cried. “Give me another chance. I swear my loyalty to-” “Even if you keep your word, I am not egotistic enough to need a slave,” Rem spat. “Who the fuck do you think I am? Darkseid? Loyalty build on fear mean less than shit to me.” Chuang gave up trying to promise anything else. No promise of power, nor benefits, moved him. His rage climbed from the injustice done to other. It was like he cared more about a stranger than himself. He fought for an ideal, but instead of naivety, he possessed the conviction of steel. What type of creature was this? The boy’s eyes glinted. “Don’t worry,” Rem said. “I mastered you, Chuang. I broke you down so much I understand you better than even Nu Wa. One day you will join me without a doubt.” Chuang trembled. “Oh, it is not a slave pledge or a secret spell that guarantee your service,” Rem whispered. “One day, you will enter our fold and fight for our dream alongside me under your own free will.” Chuang’s eyes widened. “There is no way that will happen!” Rem smiled. “Still have some spunk left, huh?” The mental landscape warped. The floor underneath them fell away, revealing a crack on the earth, shining with deep surreal light. Only Rem’s grasp on Chuang’s hot auburn-hair prevented her fall to hell. The glow of insane fanaticism shone in that serene darkness. Chuang realized what was about to happen. “No!” Chuang screeched. “No! No! No! No! No! No! No!” A heavy metal chain materialized, binding Chuang’s body like a cocoon. “All those powers for such an abysmal mental defense .” “Nooooooooooo!” Rem let her fall into the light. … Among the hill of trees and flowers, Chuang Selene sat under the majestic sky of breaking dawn. She blinked. For a second, the seven-years old forgot what she was doing. “Chuang!” said a girl with silver-hair. “Uncle Migras is coming back from the capital with that book on fire magic.” “Thank Tai!” Chuang smiled back at her best friend, Tai Huali. She took the glance at the rising sun, smiled and ran to a brighter future. Little did she perceive that ten years later, her best friend would drag her to join a gang, resulting in her conviction and fate to fight in a gladiatorial ring for amusement before being raped and executed in a failed uprising. On a hill nearby, Rem tried not to look at the scene. This part remained the hardest, not only because he knew the ending, but from the shame he endured to replicate this image every time. Rem might be cruel, but he never dunked people to hell for no reason. … Alexi Martynov poured glasses of orange juice for the four people looking at him. Every one of them was recovering from what Alexi assumed to be an intense fist-fight. The girl with demon horns arrived in casts, barely supported by a battered-looking elf with a bandage around her forehead. An Arab teenager showed up better, but he still sported a plaster on his cheek. Even the homey, helpless looking blond received a bandage treatment. Few in the gang learned that Martynov had a fetish for demi-human hentai. He was one of the few people on Earth who welcomed the transmigration as long as he got to meet a flesh and blood fantasy girl. Looking at the company Rem kept, Martynov approved his junior’s superior charisma in a mixture of admiration and jealousy. “You must be Remus’s friend,” Martynov said. “What bring you to my humble accommodation?” Martynov wasn’t joking. His room only had a fridge, two couches, weapon caches and surveillance equipments. The gang only took one glance to know where Rem’s obsession with bare necessity originated. Melody and Luxinna glanced at the traveling suitcase filled with canned food in the corner and infinitely thanked Cytortia for sparing them the same punishment. “I want to learn about Rem,” Hikma said. “I don’t doubt him much at first, but his accomplishment seemed almost inhuman.” “Yes, that is one way to talk about him,” Martynov admitted. The Argentum War came into mind. “How do you find this place?” Hikma showed him a [Conceptual Seal] “We need to recall you from my memory, and use Hikma’s magic to track you down,” Melody explained. Martynov sighed. “High fantasy sure don’t mix well with my career,” the Russian man grumbled. “Go home, kiddo. Without Remus, there is no chance four queasy whelps will extract my information.” “We just want to learn more about him,” Luxinna pleaded. “Look. Rem tortured a man to near-death, threatened to kill my sister with a straight face, threw Melody’s house to send a message and understand too much about firing gun than what Hikma confirmed is Earth’s average. We just want to understand him.” “Even when he might be a criminal?” Melody snorted “I am related to one of the most blood-thirsty man on this plane. Lux’s daddy is a political pest who want to graduate the elves into a dictatorial partnership. Cy’s senior sisters is causing a war that already chalking up several thousands corpses. How bad could Rem be?” Martynov sighed and made a leap of fate. “I believe you already deduce Remus and I have criminal ties,” Martynov sat. “Technically, Remus Breaker is not our formal member. He is a relative — a cugino. But it is an open secret our boss is grooming him for the throne. I believe his ability spoke for itself given his inevitable ascension solidified three-years ago.” “Isn’t it too easy,” Melody blinked, barely surprised by the revelation. “Gangs always have factions? How did new-comer like Rem become an heir so easily, even with the boss’s support?” “Because the board saw how he dealt with our former heir,” Martynov said. “That bedlam started when Remus Breaker caught Cassidy Argentum selling narcotic, amassed the evidence and privately reported it to Cassidy’s father—our boss, Antonio Argentum — who hate the drug trade to his bone.” “Wait, Rem reported your heir to the head?” Cytortia's jaw dropped. “And he lived?” “Impressive, isn’t it,” Martynov confirmed. “He wrote a hell of cover letter in the document, declaring he only does this for the betterment of the community, and if we don’t like it, he prefers a quick death by a bullet through the brain. That by itself was enough to earn Antonio’s respect, but revelation that he destroyed all his back up out of respect for Argentum’s authority and our contribution to the country put a cherry on the cake.” “Wait,” Cytortia’s mouth hung open. “Shouldn’t Rem be thirteen at that time?” “Oh, it get better,” Martynov reminiscent fondly. “He and Antonio tricked Cassidy into confessing before all our seniors, blunting all his support. Then Cassidy ate the dirt—literally—after a duel with Remus. Not a soul in the gang was happy with how the Cartel tainted our territory with narcotic. Antonio needed blood to wipe the shame Cassidy brought to the family. The Argentum started a war with the Cartel the next day. We called it the Argentum War. That year, the Mexican learned to fear one name: Samadi.” “How does Rem related to the Samadi guy?” Cytortia asked in a display of cluelessness. “Samadi is Rem, isn’t he?” Luxinna answered for Martynov. “How did he earn a nickname? I don’t think Rem is a type who commit mass-murder.” Martynov shivered. “Murder is a paradise to the currency Samadi bargain. During the Argentum war, we didn’t kill our prisoners, we sent them to Remus, who then mailed them back to the Cartel once he finished with them." “You task him to let your prisoner go? What the hell? Why do you do that?” “Because Remus Breaker drove them insane,” Martynov said. “I worked for many of Earth’s most ruthless and what Samadi reduces people into scares me. Your friend didn’t grant them the mercy of death. He broke their mind, shattered their will to live and sent them back as a maddened specimen to break the enemy’s morale. He gave the Cartel an ultimatum: Argentum will send their solider back as a shackle while we cut their resource. The Cartel — faced with mounting asylum patient and trauma from executing hundreds of their maddened comrade — ran out the cash and spirit to fund the war. They surrendered unconditionally.” The gang sat their stunned. “In Mexico, there is an Asylum ward named the Recuerda de Samadi,” Martynov closed his story. “The Cartel built it to nurse hundreds of mentally broken friends and families. Remus left them a permanent remembrance that there are fate worse than death.” … Chuang Martynova hit the pavement as a firing squad executed her. Second, later, the simulation of Moscow faded into dreamlike blackness as Rem entered. “Already dead on your feet, aren’t you,” Rem said. Chuang did not answer. Traumas, miseries, and memories of uncountable lifetimes bounced around her shattered psyche like dancing imps. She lost count of her torment after her 35th life. She no longer cared. Was Chuang even her name? Was it Chula or Chuitna? Not that it mattered. She lost the motivation to resist several hundred years ago. She only wished death would end her suffering. Even knowing the state Chuang’s mind was in, Rem still cautiously created a white cracked and dropped the defeated goddess into one more hell. There was no kill like overkill. Real-world time for Chuang to break: 19 minutes, 34 seconds.

The fight between Marley and Scathach was catastrophic to the surprise of no one. Forest of spears impaled the roof as the grey-eyes warrior unleashed a thirty-meters tall firestorm at Marley. In response, the sandy-hair man diagonally held his long sword and cracked space-time with a slash, sucking the tower of flame into a void. Marley’s heart clenched. [Space Fracture Defence] took a wind of his sail, but he remained undeterred. Marley the Magpie cast another spell. A magic circle rotating in his palm transformed into a disk of circular light hurtling toward Scathach. The circular light, [Space Compaction Sealing], compacted and twisted anything into ribbons. Even Scathach had to respect this spell. It was a magical duel between two masters. Even Tai Hua and LinLey Tianshang would sit in awe to witness this battle. Confronting the space blending funnel head-on, Scathach dissolved into a shadow. The circular light traveled through the smoke, compressing it without doing damage. Marley recognized this technique. It was a bad new. On cue, the tidal wave of shadows rushed forward, circling him inside a tornado of black smoke. A spear shot from the wall of shadow, then another, then hundred more spears came barreling at Marley. Marley cussed and blinked away. The 134 spears landed with enough force to destroy the carriage. An exhausted man warped into existence. Space-time twisting magic wasn’t cheap. Marley’s reserved took a mean hit, but he refused to surrender. He snapped his finger, summoned another magic circle, and started chanting. “Circle of Space. Fluctuate and blend,” Marley dipped his blade into the magic circle. “I invoke this Space Law, imprinting into this blade as the wind of oblivion.” He brandished the long sword, coated in an invisible blade, and held it in a defensive stance. This fight was nasty, but he has a 45% chance of winning. The tornado of smoke gathered, forming the curvaceous figure that was Scathach. “Wow,” the warrior maid commented. “You have been practicing, Marley. That is an impressive [Space Compaction Sealing].” “So much for it to fail,” Marley gritted his teeth. Scathach would throw the spear. That spear had ended wars, dynasties, and dignities of many men in history. Marley sweat — what a shitty match-up. Scathach stretched out her hand, calling a spear into her waiting palm. The warrior madly spun her weapon, creating a crimson magic circle oozing with shadow and fire. “[First Wave Annihilation],” she chanted, preparing to throw the spear through the circle. “[Shadow Art: One Shot Kill]” Click! “Everyone stop killing each other,” said a masked boy holding a gun to a golden octopus’s head. “Scathach, calm the fuck down, or I will tell the boss about this debacle. As for Mr. Liberator, surrender peacefully, and we can discuss the terms.” Silence. “Are you kidding me?” Scathach cursed. “Kid, I am winning.” Rem held back a contemptuous groan. “You always win the battle Scathach, but that doesn’t mean we win the war.” Rem turned toward Marley. “I want to ask you one question?” “Go on,” Marley replied, but stayed dead focus on Scathach. “Why do you leave the witness?” Rem said. “Knock-out gas is darn unreliable compare to a lethal dose of vaporized Cyanide. What with this half-measures?” Marley looked at Rem — horrified. “Kid, that’s terrible,” Marley glared at Scathach with disapproval. “What the hell, Scathach? I know you can be a bitch, but what the fuck did you teach him?” Scathach felt offended. “He is already like this when I found him!” Scathach screeched, flapping her arms to wave away the misunderstanding. “I never teach him anything that evil. Hell, he barely made it past my minimum standard.” “Scathach, you became my master because of your grudging respect that I beat you in Monopoly,” Rem coughed, holding the non-plusses octopus at gunpoint. “In fact, you planned to make my life hell, but suck for you, boss golfed karma right into your face.” In human form, Scathach was a world class beauty. However, the conversation blindsided her so severely that prettiness quotient dropped below that of a bamboozled raccoon. “You beat Scathach,” Marley looked at the masked boy with a newfound sense of respect. “Yeah, she cheats using superior stat, but I cheat with wisdom,” Rem shrugged. “The victor kinda speaks for itself.” Marley turned toward Scathach. “I like this kid” Marley stated. “Can you give him to me? He will make a perfect lieutenant.” Scathach felt she was living in a nightmare. Her will to fight to drop to zero in an instant as she imagined the prospect of Rem joining the Liberator. It was a scene of utter carnage and falling civilization. The vision left the warrior maid numb from head-to-toe. “You flatter me,” Rem accepted the compliment, much to Scathach’s horror. “I have to admit it is a tempting offer. But — abrasive and apathic as my unfortunate master are — joining the group with such disregard for civilian welfare aren’t on my menu. Do you know that your subordinate was committing assault and robbery a minute ago?” The sandy-hair man face-palmed. “Three-months of docked paychecks, severe fine and an hour of lecture,” Marley complained to the heaven. “After all that and they don’t learn a damn thing about winning populace’s support. Getting them to be respectful of others is harder than getting Scathach to care. Do you know this is the fifth time I begged her to help solves these cluster-fucks?” Rem nodded in solidarity. “She probably shoots your offer because she got nothing to form it,” Rem thought back at the yawning honey badger who put him on a ramp and chase him around the obstacle-circuit with fires. “Yeah, the only way the badger will care is that the bomb lands on top of her.” “I am right here!” The brunette woman glared at her student and frenemy. “No one cares, Scathach,” Marley told her. “Yes, no one care,” Rem added. “Since my master failed to be civilized, I will pitch a deal. But what is the Liberator’s purpose? What do you hope to gain for this robbery?” Marley suddenly sensed a weight lifted from his shoulder. His mind might not know it, but his body missed the day he could speak without fearing an army of fanatic cannibals being sent to eat him. “The Liberator was found to overthrown Aurorin.” “Aurorin?” Rem glanced at Scathach. “The faction of nobles,” Scathach explained in a miffed tone. “They are the group composed of noble families with the richest history in Phantasia, gathered to form a military might to contend with Emma and IK.” “And they built that army by instigating violent conflict to boost arms’ deals, and selling captured POW and refugee as a slave,” Marley said in disgust. “Some of them even annexed the overrun territory. They ‘save’ war-torn country and install a puppet government they can control. Their action can no longer allow to escalate.” “I see,” Rem replied. “To fight such entity you need the Stabilization Core to balance the logistic disparity, but why now?” “Because Tai Hua Tianshang,” Scathach said with disgust. “Marley believes that helping Tai Hua’s massacre and handing the entire Phantasia over to her is a good idea.” Marley stared at Scathach with disappointment. Meanwhile, a young goddess listened to the conversation and let out a defeated sigh. She crumpled down on the floor, hugging her leg tight, and wept. The distance between her and that demon only grew. How could she overcome that monster? Who would pick weakling like her over Tai Hua? Even Marley the Magpie confirmed that Tai Hua was right. Just what she hoped to succeed. “And after that,” Rem asked. “What is Tai Hua’s grand plan?” “She plans to establish a new world order ran by meritocracy and potential. Tai Hua will distribute resources base on merit and talent,” Marley explained. “Under her rule, Phantasia will be fair and caring.” “Bull-crap,” Scathach argued. “You trust an eighteen years-old maniac to control that authority. That girl started several revolutions throughout Phantasia. City-states and small kingdoms are turning into massive armies. The god won’t allow this kind of catastrophic disaster.” “When do you care about the little guys, Scathach?” Rem interrupted. His eyes dead and unfeeling. “Stop playing self-righteous. You are afraid that you will follow Aurorin into hell when Tai Hua succeed. When do you care why people are joining the revolution? You can’t even see their face from that Ivory tower, so shut up about the uprising, you bring this on yourself.” Scathach angrily opened her mouth, but Rem’s resolute expression summoned the trauma of Satholia. The specter of defeat clouded Scathach’s will, defeating her before her weapon lifted. “So you agreed,” Marley said. Meanwhile, another goddess sulked in despair. “No.” Cytortia perked up, surprised. “I agree that Aurorin needs to be stopped,” Rem discussed. “I agree with the aim. But the choice of leader, your policy, it disgust me. That meritocracy world will be hell. Who is it that will judge talent? Are we willing to use someone who disregards the life of her enemies for the standard of a fair and just world? Sound more like blood-bath.” “Ruthless means are necessary for changing a broken system.” “Marley. Hate breed hate,” Rem narrated. “Your ruthlessness is self-serving — accepting that truth is vital. You — emphasizing on you — want Tie Hua’s vision. You want Tai Hua’s merit-base communism for a good reason, and we need an overhaul. But what of those living peacefully? Are you dragging them into this mess too? Then what? Assuming you burn Aurorin, how do you plan to handle the power vacuum?” “Tai Hua can fill that vacuum.” “With what?” Rem questioned. “A person who barely has any experience in managing? Now that you talk about Tai Hua, what type of merit is she prioritising?” “Act of courage, strength, war exploit,” Marley answered. “Turn-in resources and supplies also count.” “So the strong become stronger, and the weak become weaker,” Rem concluded. “What stops a powerful dick from hoarding a bunch of farmers and alchemists in slave-pen and force them to make pills day and night to farm merit?” Marley had no comeback. “You know it as I do,” Rem said. “Tai Hua can’t stop every theft, every exploit. It is a cycle. People keep trying to replace tyrant with another tyrant for ages. The only changes are more graveyards. That merit-system promotes continuous conflict and exploitation. How many Anastasia Romanov is Tai Hua planning to execute in her revolution, Marley? How many more need to fill the mass grave?” Marley was speechless. Rem was right. They had no goal after wiping off Aurorin. Marley believed he would save the world by burning the corruption, but the boy’s word made him doubt. The Liberators were allergic to unity. Marley could see the organization crumbling from the moment they dealt with Aurorin — much less preserving peace. Hidden from plain sight, a goddess cheered. “Tell me who is Tai Hua Tianshang, Marley?” Rem pressed. “What’s her fear, her insecurity, her inspiration? Why is she doing what she is doing?” “She wants to create a fairer world,” Marley’s explanation was feeble. “Yeah, that noble,” Rem admitted with sarcasm. “Fair for who? Obvious isn’t it. It’s for herself. Ask yourself who benefits the most from the merit system? It won’t be the farmer, the artist or college kid who wants to make a video game. It will be Tai Hua. She has been throwing force at her problems since she was a kid. Do you buy that strength without love can build a better world? You are propping a horrible person as a hero. A person who resorts to warfare and violence the moment something bars her way. Do you want kids everywhere to emulate that? Do you feel disgust this is the person you tell children to take as an example?” “What are you expecting me to do?” Marley spoke. “Act like Scathach and pretend nothing happens while the world burn?” “Hey!” “Scathach, please shut up,” Rem cut his master out with a flick. “Your inaction creates this entire mess, so sit back, shut up and watch I fix it.” Rem turned toward Marley. “You have a good heart,” Rem said. “You are out of options and shove into following the worst as your only hope. I sympathize, so I will give you an alternative. We can both win.” Marley got to give the kid credit. The kid had identified the biggest hole in the Liberator’s goal. A flaw so massive Marley didn’t want to acknowledge despite knowing it deep down. The ‘We can both win’ offer sounded like an unachievable dream by this point. “What can a boy who barely stepped onto a C-class offer me?” Marley chuckled humorlessly. “I admire that spirit, kid, but the reality isn’t that kind.” “Za Wa, I command you, use [Storage].” An octopus spat out an object into Rem’s waiting hand. It was a yellow gem that sent Marley’s head spinning. The crystal glowed with a golden hue. Sigils of power inscribed over its surface. Scathach twitched the moment she saw this object. Right now she knew Marley wasn’t losing, he already lost. Marley behaved like someone stabbed him in the eye. “The Stabilization Core,” he muttered like a complete idiot. “Are you telling me you hid it in that octopus this entire time!” “Yeah, kinda obvious,” Rem nodded. He pointed his revolver at the core. “So here is the offer, Marley. The minute I have this, you lost. Try to resist, and I will shoot this core. Try to magic the core from my hand, and Scathach will skewer you. You can try to think of the third options, but do you want to risk it?” Marley didn’t want to risk it. Then the situation got worse. Luxinna climbed to the roof of the carriage and dumped a heavy object tied-up in duct tape in front of everyone. “Sorry I am late,” the elf gasped. “So heavy.” Below her, the object, named Bruno, looked pleadingly at Marley. “Boss, I hate to tell you this, but everyone else is out,” Bruno declared sheepishly. “Sorry, I try my best, but can you get me out of here?” Marley looked accusingly at the sky. “What’s the term?” At last Marley surrendered to the peace-talk. “First, compensate the victims for their bloody trouble, write an apology and drags your idiots out of here. I know you are an S-rank — compensating the passenger for their troubles and injuries take you nothing. In exchange, the core is yours.” “That’s too generous!” Scathach argued. “That core is worth an entire train.” “Scathach, we are not here to bankrupt people,” Rem said in annoyance. “We are here to ensure everyone gets compensated for their loss. If this everyone-win-scenario is beyond you, you can always bring it to Satholia.” Much to Marley’s terror, Scathach visibly deflated at the presence of the mysterious S-word. “Okay,” Marley agreed. “Written apology and compensation… I can do that. Is that all?” “Hardly,” Rem replied. “Second, I want to propose an alliance.” Everyone turned toward the masked boy like he grew the third arm. “Say what?” Cytortia poked her head from her safe-space. “Are you serious?” “Totally,” Rem confirmed as he turned toward Marley. “Here is a thing. Eventually, we will face enemies. Tai Hua isn’t even near the top of the list. I need every asset available, and connection with Liberator will be god-send.” “You want to join us?” Bruno said incredulously, while Luxinna watched in confusion. “No, we are freelancers,” Rem corrected. “We have the same goal, Marley; safety and happiness of the people. In dark times like this, in-fighting will lead to disaster. We either unite or be eaten separately. I prefer not dying from 23 stabs wounds in my chest.” “I respect that,” Marley nodded. The strange kid was more reasonable than his master. This was good. At least a leash existed on that time-bomb. “But I can only guarantee cooperation from my faction. The other Liberator’s charter is territorial.” “That’s fine,” Rem nodded. The fewer people involved in this alliance better given their fragile state. Anonymity was a blessing. “Oh yeah,” Rem said. “I also wanted one more thing. You are a space-mage, right?” “Yes,” Marley answered. “Why do you ask?” “You ruin our transport. So at least fix that by sending us to our destination,” Rem said, tossing the core to Cytortia, who nearly dropped it in panic. “That would be Millian.” “Why are you heading there?” Marley asked curiously. “A mission,” Rem stated. “Given how the last one went, I will be happy if the town remains intact afterward.”

Rem, Luxinna, and Cytortia left for Venistalis three days later. As for Hikma and Melody, they remained glued to their research. “Nothing again!” Melody yelled, sitting up from her meditation. “Your WIS might be too low,” Hikma sat cross-legged, floating several centimeters of the ground. Currents of Mana encircled him like a whirlpool. The boy’s eyes closed in deep meditation into the current of the multiverse. Melody looked at him accusingly. “How did you do this all the time?” Melody said. “First Rem and now you. Why can’t I trace as you do?” “Mel, you have the lowest WIS stat in the group.” “Come on! Even the elf can do it?” Hikma stared at her. “Fine!” Melody corrected herself. “Lux can only see things start and end with lighting. But news flash! I can't even enter the field. Hikma sighed. The demon-vs-elf-rivalry was still going strong. Three days was quite a leap of progress, given how inaccessible Astral Consciousness could be. After drilling through many books, and driving Luxinna to boredom-induced insanity, Horizon Dawn finally derived a system for accessing the multiverse's subconscious. Firstly, the user must meditate and dive into his/her Mana Core. From the Core, the practitioner must journey through their link to the Astral Consciousness. They must submerge and let the Multiverse guide to what they sought. The naming was equally as painful as the inventing. It took lame names devised by the boys, a frantic Cytortia, a knockout Luxinna, and a flying paperweight for Melody and Scathach to name this new holy ritual as Astral Trace or tracing for short. However, much to one demoness' distress, combat potential didn’t correlate to the art of Astral Trace. Melody's talent in tracing was--to be kind--hideous. Cytortia hit the wall every time she tried to find enlightenment. On the bright side, Luxinna did discover a colorful new way to play with high-velocity charge and nothing else. Everyone blamed her overspecialization in voltage after eating the elf's impression of Emperor Palpatine. The boys, on the other hand, pretty much took tracing like fish to the water. Hikma didn’t have any problem navigating the multiverse’s subconscious. The only problem he had was getting drag to dinner instead of discovering a new way to activate an active volcano. Rem didn’t have Hikma's connectivity. Instead, he could expand his new [Clarvoyance] to spy on people using Astral Consciousness. It seemed cheater finally graduated cheating and into a competitive field in Invasion of Privacy. “Dammit!” Melody chewed on the bitter taste of failure for once in her life. “I can’t accept this. Where the hell is that bastard anyway!?” … That particular bastard was hanging outside a posh manner. Luxinna gaped in awe. She came from an upper-class family, but Lightwell city was more like a glorified magical treehouse. Sure, Lucian’s treehouses were a marvel of natural spellwork in all its function and grandeur, but they paled in comparison to what stood before her. Smooth marble Corinthian column, pale blue-tiles, a garden that was worthy of kings, an expertly crafted stain glass window--all of this was a must-have in Shyme Enma's property checklist. Rem would call it Victorian architecture extravaganza. The chronic cheater looked unimpressed. His father’s colleagues in Dubai once tried to plate his house with gold. For him, Victorian-stain-glass manner was at the modest end of the scale. “Luxinna, your drool is showing,” Rem said. “Cy, are you sure this is the right house?” Right on cue, a crying man got thrown out of the front door. He crawled back to the manor in tears, but a kicked in the face from a manservant sent him back where he came. The man fearfully turned away and ran right past the group in horror. “Yes,” Cytortia nodded. “This is the right house.” Rem whistled as the man stumbled by. “Cy, your friend is a monster.” “I understand,” Cytortia said. “Shyme is a nice person deep down, but she can be…” “Harsh,” Luxinna suggested. “Exactly.” … The gang approached the door to be greeted by an old butler. He had grey close-cropped hairs and mushroom-cloud mustache. His black tuxedo was neatly trimmed, exuding more gentlemanly aura that made Rem inched toward his revolver. However, the butler's flapping dog-ears discouraged him. Despite all Rem's fault, he had a soft spot for dogs. “Lady Cytortia, Lady Shyme is waiting for you,” Waiter let them inside the manner. “Thank you, Waiter,” Cytortia smiled. “How is Shyme doing?” Waiter looked at the sky balefully. “The same as usual, I suppose,” Waiter gesture them to follow him. “The current political climate in Phantasia didn't help her mood. Moreover, Lord Xerset's relationship with the rest of the clan is straining. I suppose that is the sin of being a maverick.” “What about the number of people getting fired?” “Oh,” Waiter looked defeated. "You know how high is Lady Shyme's standard. She demands absolute perfection from her employees.” Cytortia didn’t buy that. “She is overworking them again, isn’t she?” Waiter sighed. “Yes, she is breaking them. It has gotten worse of late. With her ascension to the rank of 14th on the 33 Stars ranking, the number of employees getting removed doubled.” Cytortia facepalmed. Suddenly, a disheveled maid stumbled down the hallway. The woman's hair was a mess, and she sported a dark ring beneath her eyes. She walked toward the group like shivering, dying scarecrow on the blink of tears. Her body quivered like a person with hypothermia. Luxinna gaped. The maid in front of her looked half dead. How could it be possible for someone to work another human being this close to death? “Mr. Waiter,” the maid said. “Lady Enma just…” Waiter mournfully hugged the girl. “It is okay,” Waiter comforted the girl. “Think on the bright side. You can take a rest now. This isn’t the end, Sandra. I am sure someone as capable as you can find good work elsewhere. Please look after yourself. Did Shyme give you a gift package yet?” Sandra nodded. “Good, that would last you long enough until you find another job.” Cytortia looked at the maid apologetically and handed her a bottle. “Lady Cytortia,” Sandra received the bottle with a puzzled expression. “What is this?” “A recovery incense,” Cytortia said. “I prepare some because I expect something like this to happen. How do you know my name anyway?” Sandra fiddled nervously. “I saw you when you visit last time, milady.” Cytortia couldn’t help but be impressed. “That is seven months ago!” Cytortia said in awe. “You make it that long with Shyme as your taskmaster! Did you happen to take any immortallity serum?” “No, milady.” “Gosh, Sandra, listen to me. You don’t need to worry about anything. Anyone that can last more than five months with Shyme is the cream of the crop. The only one who survives Shyme’s employment for longer than that is Waiter, and he is inhumane.” “I am very pleased you compared me to a monster, Lady Cytortia,” said the grumpy beastman. “Thank you, Lady Cy,” Sandra sank on to the goddess’ shoulder and cried. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” Sandra let out a deluge of tears. Luxinna wasn’t feeling great about this. “I have been here for five minutes, and I already have a feeling I won’t like Shyme Enma.” Rem fully agreed. … “Lady Shyme,” Waiter knocked on the gold glided door. “Lady Cytortia has arrived.” A stern but pretty voice followed. “Let her in,” Shyme said from the other side of the door. Waiter opened the door. It was the first time Luxinna and Rem met Shyme Enma. Her black fox ears twitched at the sound of visitors, but she was too absorb into her paperwork to care. History would say this was the terrible beginning of a deep and insightful friendship. Saying Shyme was pretty was like saying Rem hated communism. No, Shyme was beautiful beyond comparison to any mere mortal, and Rem spent his past time inventing barbaric tortures for communists that would horrify even Adolf Hitler. The only person they knew who could fight her in a beauty contest was Melody. However, while Melody got the sensual body, intellectual aura, and an exotic look like crimson fires that combined into a passionate combo, Shyme went another route. The beastgirl was flat, but she had the grace of diamond. The girl simply looked unobtainable. An hour-glass waist to kill for, arms shaped like the divine sculpture, face--and lip--that teased like honey to the soul; all of these made Enma Shyme looked like a glass carving laced with gold—expensive and divine. If Melody shone like the star of passion spirit, then Shyme was the silver ocean of elegance and nobility. Rem wasn’t affected at all by this. Melody couldn’t make him bat an eye. Out of all the girls, Rem preferred Cytortia the most. Luxinna's growing lightning-obsession was unhealthy for his survival. Melody struck the wrong cord with him. Cytortia hit everything he likes in a woman, but she was too much girl-next-door. As for Shyme, she lacked one necessary quality: warmth. “Lady Shyme,” Waiter spoke. “The cargo you ordered have arrived. Today profit margin averaged at 23%. All our shops throughout the Grand Continent are running optimally. Your transportation investment has returned 154% of the capital you spent. The Aurorin ambassador's letter of apology has arrived this morning. The current conflict in Tengen Continent is still disrupting our business.” “Thank you, Lancaster,” Shyme replied without a look back, and threw her butler a map. “Sent this map to our associate in Tengen. I already identify five routes for our goods to pass Tai Hua’s checkpoint. I want you to raise the price of our goods by 34% in Tengen. Tell the ambassador to stop it with his letters. I will still be gutting his business. Tell our men to start transporting the cargo to Demonic Continent. Our Aztellic associate wants them in five days.” “Lady Shyme, our men won’t make it in that window.” “Lancaster, those demons are getting too restless,” Shyme said. “Paid extra; I am sure our courier will find away. What is the Madam doing?” “No word from your father’s rival.” “She is planning something,” Shyme said. “Start diverting my fund to the Water-quarter. That would get her attention. Sent our people to snoop her new start-up project. I don’t like the competition.” “Lady Shyme, our spies are already dead on their feet. You already pushed them into using drugs. If you drive them anymore, they will die.” Guilt emerged on Shyme’s face for a split second, but she crushed with an indoctrinated ease. “Very well, you can send in the new squad, but tell them to expect to shoulder the responsibility if they screw this up.” “Yes, milady.” Finally, after several more orders, Shyme turned her attention toward the gang. Her expression did a complete U-turn the moment she registered Cytortia. The beastgirl gave a warm, caring smile. “Sorry about this, Cy,” Shyme said sunnily. “My father just shove more work my way.” “He always does that,” Cytortia said. “How things are doing in your family. Did your baby cousin give you any trouble?” “Cy, you know how good I am with dealing with a brat who doesn't know their place,” Shyme suddenly noticed two other people sitting beside her BFF. “Who are those two?” “Oh, they are my friend,” Cytortia smiled happily. “We are on the same team.” Shyme's face twitched but still maintained her sunny smile. “Cy,” Shyme Enma smiled sweetly. “I happened to find the Vegetation Almanac you always wanted a week ago. It is the fifth edition. Lancaster, please show Cy the Almanac.” “Yes, milady.” Lancaster opened the door. “May you come with me, lady Cytortia.” “What about my friends?” “Don’t worry about that, Cy,” The beastgirl’s smile didn’t falter a percent. “I am sure they will be fine with that.” “Yes, Cy,” Rem agreed, much to Luxinna’s confusion. “Don’t worry about us. I believe your friend and I will have quality time together.” Cytortia would believe that a month ago, but she knew Rem better these days. Putting Rem Breaker in the same room with Shyme Enma would be a disaster in the making. However, such a massacre was also a great incentive for her to flee the battlefield. Cy quickly followed Lancaster Waiter. Everyone watched as the door swung closed. Shyme unauthentic smiled drop, and Rem stood up to look at the book on her shelf. Luxinna leaned as far from them as possible to avoid the carnage. “Let be honest here, who sent you?” Shyme said. “I give you three guesses,” Rem said. “The first two don’t count.” Shyme decided to nibble the bait. “It can’t be Chuang. That butthead couldn’t get tact even when someone tries to sell it to her. Kar’Dia isn’t a subtle type, neither is Tai Hua. It is that backstabbing bitch, isn’t it?” “Try higher.” “Fuck this,” Shyme cursed. All her elegance evaporated like ice cream before a super laser. “Do you fucking bastard know how much that bitch's betrayal hurt her? You tell me right now who the hell sent you to spy on my friend, or I will drag it out of you myself.” “Ms. Enma, we are not a spy,” Luxinna decided to diffuse the World War before it started. “Ace…” “Shut up, Dream,” Luxinna said. “She is not faking. I can read her body language. She is too pissed to put on an act.” “I see,” Shyme looked at Rem murderously. “You know, for a second, I almost believe Nu Wa sent you here.” “You sound like you hate her.” Shyme bristled. “Hate her? Oh, don’t let me get started. Do you know what that dolt did? She fucking set Cy against those bitches. Do you know that her command automatically put Cy on one of the most dangerous 33 spots in Phantasia? I nearly had a fucking heart attack when I got the news. Do you know how many assassins I deployed to take out her attackers?” “You did what?” “No need to get surprised, Ace. Criminal fawn over fame and taking out a 33 Stars is the fast track to the big league. Cy is an incredibly easy target because she is the weakest one on the list with enemies near the top of the pack.” Shyme rubbed her forehead. “I have to send an entire guild of professional assassins to protect her without her knowledge--Queen of Heaven, my ass.” “But let focus on the big one,” Rem said. “Are you the one sabotaging trades in Starland?” “What?” Luxinna said. “Wow,” Shyme glanced at Luxinna with mild fascination. “She didn’t work it out yet?" “She doesn’t know about my information source. But I have to say it finally makes sense why Enma clan is building a trade blockade around Tengen. Seriously, I don’t know whether I should be scared or impressed. You are dismantling one of my greatest worries and starving half a continent in one absurd length to avenge a friend.” Shyme finally realized she was giving away information to a stranger. The girl composed herself and replied. “Yes, it is no secret that Cy is my best friend,” Shyme stated. “But it is also beneficial for Enma clan to gain territory on Tengen Continent. I simply kill two birds with a stone." Rem decided to ask one question in his mind. “Why do you left LinLey Tianshang untouch? Considering how she stabbed Cy in the back, she should be your first target." The mere mention of the name sent Shyme into a seething rage. “That attention whore is only breathing because she is politically smarter than Tai Hua. She has an ally in Emma clan that I couldn’t remove." “You mean Grustav Enma.” That name sent an uncomfortable shiver down Shyme’s spine. “Forget about that," Shyme changed the subject. "Tell me, why are you here? “I need a favor.” Luxinna sank when Shyme burst out laughing. This negotiation is going to hell.

The nightmare began that night. A gangly man stumbled into an abandoned building. It was a triple-stories storage house discarded after its previous owner filed for bankruptcy a few years back. The resulting jury — which the public ignored — caused the bank and the nobility to leave the building to dry to cut the demolition cost. Those two factors culminated in a shambling, pest-infested derelict filled with broken windowsills and rotting components. A sad excuse for an Empire once infamous for its knights and valor. Now, in this fading corpse of an entrepreneurial dream, four people stood in front of a tied and gagged boy in the middle of the room. The lead man in black-robe and dark skull-shaped mask watched the gangly man arrived with disapproval. “You are late,” the man said. “How is the route?” “Clear. There is no one around us.” “Good,” the man replied. “Let us begin.” Most men in the room felt uncomfortable. They were being paid extremely handsomely to aid this masked man, but no amount of payment made them comfortable with human sacrifice. They were no stranger to bloodshed, but killing children like this repulsed even low-lives like them. As quickly as it rose, the hesitancy faded from their eyes like it never even existed. The murky blackness filled their mind, and they positioned themselves like they did the previous nights. The skull-mask checked for any degradation in his compulsion spell. He found none. And like fifty-nights before, he recited. “Oh, father dark, oh, mother vengeance, take this pure soul-” Suddenly, a sarcastic voice ruin everything “-and grant me power over demise. I exchange this offering’s soul for godhood I don’t deserve. Let my enemy — who are skeletons for centuries, btw — know the Deathless’ might. I now sacrifice city of innocent joes to shame my ancestor, resting in eternal glory with the immortal soul of fellow freedom fighters.” The skull-mask’s shoulder drooped. “Nigel, you said everything is clear.” Nigel sweat. He knew the worrying time had arrived. The boss had no problem slaughtering kids to appease an imaginary demon god. The chance of him living past the next minute sound grim. The hoodlum never believed in honest work, but if he survived, he promised to try. Goodbye to answering a request from a sinister man with a penchant for human sacrifice, say hello to modest janitor Nigel. Luckily for Nigel, the invader was a big proponent for redemption. “Don’t blame Nigel,” said the disembodied voice. “He is out of his league, Orwell Mehest.” The skull-mask stopped right in his track. The name rippled through the ranks of men, waking them up from the haze of compulsion by raw shock. The hoodlum and criminal barely believed it. The man hiring them was a 33 Stars—the future big shot of the continent, the 1% amongst the prodigy. Why was someone with such a glorious future committed such atrocities? “Hal Jordan.” “Wow, savvy,” the voice of Rem snarked. “The mysterious trash-talker who show up with the only pacifist in the room is investigating a serial murder. How surprising?” “Why are you here? This is none of your business!” “An opposite reason to the one that got your ancestor kill,” the voice of Rem spoke. “I care.” Orwell clenched his fist. “If you know the story, you know this is justice.” “No, you are committing an act of vengeance. Justice and vengeance is a nearly identical concept, separate by truth. Vengeance means punishing those who harm you. Justice imply fairness and the right for truth to come to light and judge by fair merit.” Rem continued. “The truth is simple. The previous Emperor of Grand Empire launched the invasion on their neighbors. Your clan nobly refused to bend the knee and got crushed for it. The criminal is therefore the previous Emperor who spearheaded the invasion. But he is long dead.” “His descendants still lived!” Orwell yelled at the disembodied voice. “The descendants who stopped the expansion policy,” Rem pointed out. “The soldiers who purged your ancestral home are six-feet under. The child is not his father, Orwell. With your logic, if a member of Deathless Clan marry the Grand Empire Princess and produce a child, the newborn child — your own flesh and blood — will carry the sin of killing his ancestor. Sound stupid, isn’t it?” “Y-you are referencing the impossible,” Mehest walked toward the location of Rem’s voice. “Today, maybe. Tomorrow, maybe not,” Rem spoke. “It is not too late, Orwell. Stop harming innocent children who got equally screwed by the Grand Empire’s mismanagement as you did. Don’t massacre common people who only want to live free like your ancestor to satiate your grudge. Your people last stand proved your blood are cleaner than the previous Emperors, so don’t ruin it. Stop the ritual, give yourself up, and I promise I will help you the best I can.” “You! Why should you help me? We are living in a fucking insane asylum where over-privileged bastards in this city live on a mountain of sacrifices — MY PEOPLE’s SACRIFICE. Do you think the only symptoms of this sick system is the 33 Stars? They are just a latest in the line of bitches. Only prying the retribution from those assholes’ cold, dead hand will fix anything.” “And when will it end? Who do you help? You? Become your enemy. Your enemy? Too dead to make anything right. The bystander? Running from you in fear.” “You are too late to fix anything!” Orwell unleashed a giant icicle, piercing the location of the voice, penetrating the building and the concrete below. Boom! The building shook. “What is that?” Nigel asked The ground below them fractured and crumbled away. Orwell and the rest of the Hoodlum fell as the explosive cleverly planted by Rem took out the rotting volume of concrete supporting the third floor. The Orwell and his hired muscles fell down to the second stories with the remains of the third floor. Humans and debris smashed through the unmaintained concrete, sending the criminal plunging down to the ground. The tied and gagged boy floated above the air, struggling mightily before a wave of Arcane splashed into his face and put him to sleep. Hikma De Darwin emerged from the [Cloaking] Arcane. His hand held [Conceptual Seal] of [Force] and [Sleep] that made this possible. Orwell Mehest looked up to the mysterious hero in blue/red cloak, a black mask and bowler hat. The enigmatic figure suspending in the air sent a freezing dread down into his spin. Flight was not a common ability in Phantasia, and when it appeared the opposing side would likely have a terrible time. Orwell conjured a mist of froze and ran. Bang! Bang! Two rounds of bullet penetrated his leg and shoulder, leaving a messy wound that was gushing out blood. The bullets hit Orwell precisely at the worse moment, as if the shooter knew to the exact second and direction to pull a trigger. Orwell stumbled down the street and scrambling away, leaving trails of blood behind. … Hikma floated in the sky and sensed shiver down his spine. He recognized this dread. Something was wrong tonight. The sinister creeping down his spine resembled the day his father died. Hikma triggered the radio. “Rem, I think something nasty is coming.” … Orwell Mehest’s translucent body phased through a wall and into Water-quarter. He coughed up blood. The injury was too taxing for him to handle. With pain and blood bleeding from his chest, the 33 Stars ran from the crime scene at a desperate pace. He scraped on the rough bricks paving the floor, fought past his pain, and rounded the corner to his manor in Venistalis. If Hal Jordan and Cytortia deduced his plan, then without a doubt Shyme would be after him. He needed to regroup and consider his option. What he saw made his heart sunk? The entire squadron of the royal-knight was waiting to greet him. There was also a surprise guest. “Hello, Orwell,” Shyme Enma said. “You look horrible.” “Nothing much, Shyme, just assassination squad,” Orwell feigned confidence as he bled out. “What bring you here?” “Why don’t you tell him, Captain Hex?” A muscle-bounded knight with crewcut and a pair of piercing eyes stepped from the rank. The giant of a man wore a silver armor perfectly hiding his scar riddled body. He stood a shoulder taller than any men in his army as a testament to both his authority, training and expectation heaped on him by the Emperor. The Captain of the royal-knight, Stuart Hex, glared disdainfully at Orwell Mehest and announced his indictment. “Orwell Mehest, you stand accused serial murder, conspiracy, treachery and terrorism against the glorious Grand Empire,” Hex bellowed. “Captain Hex, you are accusing a diplomatic guest from Elypt,” Orwell tried to play his way out of this mess. “You need evidences.” “Very well,” Captain Hex shouted. “Chamomile.” “Yes Captian,” Vice-Captian Chamomile walked out of Orwell’s Manor. “We found all the evidence where the Madam and Lady Enma told us. The secret communication log alone recorded contact with the blacklisted organizations in the Willow Heart Street. The secret chamber bellowed the basement held several artifacts from the Deathless Clan, including the tome from Enma’s clan identify as Achieves of Deathless. We also found several bankbooks issued by the Bank of Willow Heart Street.” Orwell grimaced. He was in deep trouble. Willow Heart Street was Phantasia’s major ruling body for under-table dealing. It was a secret society for criminal’s service from medical facilities to banking. Just being connected to that society is a tremendous scandal. The bankbook recording his dealing alone was a huge evidence. But how did they find it? Orwell hid those bank books and statement in a secret location that he told no one—a location protected by magic no less. Whoever tipped Shyme and Madam Marmel off must have an eye sharper than the gods. … Rem lifted his head from the scope and sneezed. Breaker’s CCC moved as predicted. No matter how tonight turned out, no other outcome remained for Orwell Mehest. By now the royal-knight led by the hulking mass of integrity and muscle called Stuart Hex would already find all the evidence needed for conviction. Rem smirked. He also prepared an extra help. … “Sir,” one of knight approached the great Hex vs Orwell standoff with several prisoners wrapped in chain. “We received notice of at fight at Earth-quarter this evening and found several fugitives tied up in a slum. A lead from a man calling himself Detective Hal Jordan led us to a secret location containing the bankbook that recorded transaction connect to the disappearance case.” Orwell gritted his teeth. “Ridiculous! Invading my property and planting evidence is low even for you, Shyme. Captain Hex, I am being framed.” Hex snorted. “Ok, Mehest,” Hex replied, not buying an inch. “So Shyme Enma secretly built a secret chamber beneath your manor, planted several artifacts worth millions inside, then created multiple fake accounts worth even more with a secret society infamous for upholding their reputation with blood to frame you?” “Give me time to explain!” “Let me check this first,” Hex ungracefully received the bankbooks from both the knight and Chamomile. “Hmm, I think the Willow Heart Street’s bankbook can only open by using the owner’s blood. Will you lend me yours?” Orwell stifled a curse. “You have a nerve, Orwell,” Shyme frowned. “Sneak into my house and steal a book right from under my nose. Don’t worry we already caught your little collaborator in the royal-mages and he already told us everything?” Orwell gritted his teeth “You are lying. He is dea-“ Right then, Orwell realized his screw-up before he finished the sentence “Royal-mages Roiche’s death is a confidential information,” Captain Hex said, much to Shyme’s outrage. “Yes, we lied to you about that, Enma. Deal with it.” Shyme cursed at the mysterious bastard pulling the string. “So, tell me how do you know that mage is dead, Orwell.” Orwell stood silence as everything he spent a decade building collapsed in a single night … “Rem, what will happen after tonight?” Rem leaned on his back and considered Hikma’s query. It was a good question. Rem activated his [Clairvoyance]. Nothing. Rem’s eyes widened. He fucked up. He engineered the vision up to the arrest of Orwell Mehest, but nothing beyond. Originally, he thought nothing about it, but there was one obvious explanation he didn’t want to believe. The current Breaker’s CCC only worked on a being at A-Rank. If a being exceeded that level entered the equation, it would malfunction. Shit. “Everyone regroup!” Rem yelled. “Orwell can activate the ritual early. I repeat! This operation is a failure. Tell the royal-knights to retreat immediately!” … Shyme felt smug, and she deserved it. She never liked Orwell Mehest. The middle of the road idiot who tried to get along with everyone. Every time she saw him, she wanted a reason to hate this overly decent person. In Shyme Enma’s reality, a naturally decent soul didn’t exist. Even Cytortia — the nicest person she ever met — were a bit of a coward; not to mention Remus Breaker and the elf punk. Everyone hid a little ugliness inside them; it was a lesson the clan drilled into her foundation. And again, reality proved her reality right. Mr. Nice-guy was a secret serial killer, a descendant of fugitives, and most important of all, he stole from her collection. Shyme was particularly madder about the book. Then her communicator rang. She picked it up, and she barely believed what she was hearing. “Retreat! Are you crazy? We have won.” Orwell perked up and smiled contently. “Hal Jordan call, didn’t he?” Shyme glared back at him. “It got nothing to do with you. Shut up.” But Orwell Mehest finally had an opportunity to let a boulder off his chest, and he wouldn’t waste it. “Truth to be told, I half-regret my decision. My parent scoured the ruin left behind by this cursed country and barely gathered enough kindles to start over. They never cried, but I felt those sadnesses in every single hour of their life spent to honor our family’s legacy and what we stand for.” Shyme snorted. Orwell sighed. “The pain. The hate. As the strongest of this bloodline, I must carry it all. My regret don’t matter — balancing the scale is.” “The Deathless Clan defied the Empire and lost, boy,” Hex’s gaze softened from titanium to rock. “I understand your anger, but we do not live in a fantasy where right make might.” “The Deathless clan are just mere humans,” Shyme added. “Wake up. The Grand Empire’s nobility carries bloodlines of the elves, the Leviathan, and many mythological beasts to the point they were on par with the higher species. Spirit masteries won’t give you an edge you need.” “That is where you both are wrong,” Orwell grimly spoke. “Let me get this off my chest. I don’t hate you, Hex. You care about people of this country. I can sympathize with that goal. Listing what I hate will take forever, but right now I will stick with two. Shyme, Chamomile, even death is too kind of fate for you two.” “Why me?” Chamomile looked confuse. “Because you stand for nothing,” Orwell said. “You are just a monkey, closing her ears and mouth, letting disasters happens despite having power to stop them. Just like the gods who let my ancestor suffered without lifting a damn finger. I can’t stomach your cowardice, so I will teach you the price of being a coward.” “And you, Shyme,” Orwell said. “Your clan are an abomination. Why did those bastards from Enma rose to the top while my ancestors fell? Velnia is naïve, but I can respect her sincere desire for peace. But you! You still dare to mock her despite being equally foolish! You are not worthy to defeat me, Enma! None of you have a right to stop me! I only accept one man in this stupid city as my opponent.” “Must be quite a man,” Hex commented. The ground trembled. “Yes, he is the only one who cares to talk me out of this,” Orwell said as the screamed of the damn rocked the sky. “Sarcastic as he is, I acknowledge his admiration and sincerity. If there are someone worthy enough to face the might of my hatred, it will be a champion of moral and mercy my parents believe in, not those false gods and their lackeys. None of you understand my pain. Only he and his earn the privilege to honor my forefather.” Suddenly the sky parted and thousand black-eyes peered into the capital, blocking out the moon like a lunar eclipsed. “I know you can hear me! Hal Jordan! Cytortia!” Orwell Mehest challenged the heroes of justice. “Save them if you can, but tonight, there will be blood.” The black tears flowed from the eyes, rising the curtain to Horizon Dawn’s greatest siege since Millian. Began was the Capital of the Dead.

The first thing that came to Hikma’s mind about his new buddies was that they were way too paranoid. It started when Cytortia patched Hikma enough for him to make a journey. After that, was a series of measures the young Archeologist deemed excessive. Firstly, they passed through the city gate under disguise and fake Status ID. Secondly, they sneaked into the wood out of sight from the city and into the area with literally nothing. Hikma blinked. “You said you are camping here,” he looked at the black-hair elf. “I see nothing.” “Yes,” Luxinna fumbled in her pocket and produced a metal ball. “Concealment Artifact. You can’t pass through here without a specially forged key and a passcode.” Luxinna lifted the ball and shouted. “You shall not pass!” Hikma cringed. The guy setting the password must have a strange sense of humor, or he loved Gandalf way too much. The ball light-up and the three found themselves inside the camp. To keep the explanation short: the campsite exceeded Hikma’s standard, and it was not in a comfortable way. The site consisted of a black van parked in the background, a hastily constructed wooden shed in the corner, and a hearth in the center. Three individuals sat minding their businesses. A brown-hair boy with a white highlight sat behind the fire and tended to the stew. Inside the shed, a red-hair woman wearing an oversized goggle was disassembling an object with a badger. Hikma gulped. Was she disassembling a gun? The boy looked up. “So that is our new member,” the boy held out a bowl of stew. “Want some? It’s still hot.” Hikma about to accept he bowl when Cytotia stopped him. “Don’t,” the blonde warned. “Rem’s cooking sucks.” “Cy, it tastes okay now.” Luxinna snatched the bowl of stew from Rem’s hand and took a sip. “Too salty.” Rem sighed in defeat and turned toward Hikma. “I know you have any questions,” Rem gestured toward the other side of the hearth. “Take a seat and fire away. My name is Remus Breaker or Rem to my co-worker.” “Hikma De Darwin,” Hikma introduce himself and sat down. “So who are you guys?” “Okay,” Rem frowned. “Something just occurs to me; do you know what you are getting into?” Hikma stayed silent. “I won’t lie to you, Hikma. If you join us, the path ahead won’t be pretty. Our enemies are overwhelming. Our allies are non-existence. We are going to war with the order of this world itself. The moment I tell you the information we hold. Those monsters will try to kill you. They will torture you to get every information they need. If you want to call quit or defect, this is the time. I won’t blame you if you step out of this camp. If you do, we will disappear, and you will never hear from us again. No matter where you go, you will have my blessing for happiness. Now that you know the stake. Do you want to go through with that question?” “Why are you doing this then?” Hikma asked. Rem looked into the fire. “Each of us has many reasons,” Rem reminisced. “Me, I want to bring forth the world where a lonely kid knew a hero is real. A world where he can look at the sky and see hope and dream.” Hikma nodded, and he replied. “My father died protecting innocent people when he doesn’t have too. I wish he never did that, but I understand why he did it. He always taught me to live by example. And I promised my mother on her deathbed that I will always be kind.” Hikma looked into Rem’s eyes. “I have only been here for a month to know my father didn’t die for a world like this. I don’t know if this the right decision, but I won’t tarnish the history he left behind.” Hikma closed his eyes and reaffirmed his resolve. “If you plan to make this world a kinder place like my father would want it to be, I am in through hell and high water. If I have to camp here outside of civilization with you, I will do it as long as you are saving the innocent people.” In the distance, Cytortia clapped. “Great! Let throw a celebration!” “Yeah, how about we brief the new guys first.” Rem sipped his stew and made a face. Luxinna was right about the salt. “Three months ago, when Earth merged with Phantasia, I got dropped in the middle desert with Cy.” “Wait,” Hikma said. “Got dropped? You mean you are from Earth.” “Yeah, I’m studying in London at the time, and the transition popped me right in the middle of nowhere,” Rem eyed Hikma. “And for the record, I am American, not British.” “Well, for the record, my nationality is french,” Hikma laughed. “Although, I am a bit attached to Dubai.” Both boys laughed while the girls watched them in confusion. “What are they on about?” Luxinna asked the goddess. “I don’t know.” “They are bonding,” Melody answered from across the camp while measuring a steel gun’s barrel. “It is quite a beautiful phenomenon, I would say.” Rem coughed and got back on track. “Anyway, we are contacted by a goddess who resided beyond the realm of reality. The goddess, unable to directly interfere in our world, tasked us with assembling a team to deal with Phantasia’s crisis. And here is the first bombshell, Hikma. Do you know about the World Enemy?” “You mean the monster that regularly invaded Phantasia.” “Yeah, those things are increasing their assault frequency. Keep this up, and Phantasia would be a goner, and without Phantasia, the multiverse would follow suit. We are under a timer until a multiverse-scale existential threat.” “Oh,” Hikma nearly asked for a stew. He needed some salt to process the information, and maybe more salt to stop him from running around like a headless chicken. “Yes,” Rem turned toward Cytortia. “Bring food. I think we need something to balance the panic.” Hikma stared at Rem like he was a monster. “How can you be so calm about this?” “Because it got worse.” Hikma started to believe Rem missed the point. Later, he would realize Rem was spot-on. “Now we arrive at the information people will flay you alive to hear,” Rem narrated. “A month ago, we had to deal with a crisis while trying to recruit Mel over there.” “The name is Melody,” the demoness retorted. “We successfully disposed of the crisis,” Rem continued to explain. “But we never expected the aftermath to be so wide.” Hikma recalled his time with Velnia’s entourage. He remembered the day pretty well because it was the only time he ever saw Albert and Mercia lost their smugness, and panicked. Velnia didn’t know what happened; neither were the guards. However, all of them know it was huge. Now Hikma was about to discover the truth behind that day, but he had to be sure. “Is what happened a month ago enough to make Albert Starling acted like a headless chicken?” The badger in the background turned toward them. “How did you know that Starling brat?” Hikma stared. “That honey badger talked?” He looked at Rem. “The proper term is complaining, but yes, she talked.” Rem turned toward the honey badger. “Who the hell is this Albert Starling?” Hikma answered that. “He is Princess’s Velnia tutor.” “Wait!” Luxinna “Are you talking about Albert Starling? The guys with glasses, a bit nerdy, desperately acting compose all the time despite having pretty much nothing going for him?” The badger in the background turned toward them. “How did you know that Starling brat?” Hikma stared. “That does sound like Albert,” Hikma frowned. “You two know him?” “Know him?” Scathach snorted. “He used to come and kiss my ass to gain political backing. I gave him a boot. The only reason I even moderately remember him is that he is the only person in the last century who kept returning to get blasted from my lawn." Inside Hikma's brain, the image of Albert, the manipulative politician, fell apart. "Now that you mention it," Luxinna opened her mouth to complete the character annihilation. "He came to my father when I was around eight. I remember it very well because it was the first time I ever saw my father laughed at someone before throwing them out of the house face-first." Luxinna scowled with concentration. "He mentioned things about getting political alliance with my father to control Starland." "Albert is a fool," Scathach commented. "Lucian never needs someone to get him Starland. That area is pretty much a waste of investment." ”Isn’t Starland a member of the Seven Continental Alliance?” Everyone turned toward Hikma. ”Kid,” Scarhach started. ”Who told you that?” ”Albert.” ”Wow,” Melody took the gun apart and whistled. ”That is petty even by a politician standard.” She turned toward her comrade. ”Are you sure not going to Starland is a good idea? If this Starling guy is their best, stopping LinLey can’t be that hard.” ”Well, the quality of their personal sure explains why Starland get into their mess,” Rem said. ”No wonder Tai Hua and LinLey chose to head there first. It is weak enough to usurp and got enough influence to snowball; a perfect place for beginner tyrant.” ”What are you guys talking about?” Hikma said. ”What is wrong with Starland?” ”Hikma,” Cytortia gently explained. ”The member of Seven Continental Alliance are Northland, Grand Empire, Elypt, Ikle, Jenile Islands, Majistopia, and the Coalition of Tengen.” The goddess’s face turned sour. ”Starland is one of the three countries in the Union that is the Coalition of Tengen. To keep it short, Starland is only one-third of an Alliance member.” Hikma’s mouth twitched. ”You are telling me that Albert lied.” ”No,” Rem said with a Sharden Freudian smile. ”Albert was exaggerating the importance of a joke member in an ineffective Alliance of countries to a kid who didn’t know any better.” Rem laughed dryly. ”Considering the damage caused by Cy’s senior sisters squabbling over that joke of a country, even calling them a part of the Alliance is an over-exaggeration at this point.” ”They are still a part of the Alliance, Rem, ” Scathach looked annoyed. ”Give them some respect.” ”Not when Tai Hua Tianshang took over half their territory.” Hikma suddenly remembered something. ”Why do you think Albert would want to set up Princess Velnia’s marriage?” That statement hit everyone by surprise. ”Who is getting married?” Cytortia panicked. Meanwhile, Melody and Rem started chuckling. ”Albert is carting their princess to bargain for an ally?” Melody giggled. ”I might feel sorry for them if the girl isn't so stupid she get used as a casino chip.” Hikma frowned. ”Velnia is better than that.” ”Yes, Hikma,” Rem nodded. ”I believe she is, but there are people you can save and people who you can’t. I hope you remember that.” Rem got back on topic. ”Now, to answer why Starland is flipping itself over. A month ago, an Untouchable, Illma Zoldia Road, got done over.” Hikma froze. Velnia warned him about the Untouchable. She went into incredible detail about the immunity they had, their necessity to the world, and why he should avoid crossing them at all costs. ”Isn’t the Untouchable the big wig in Phantasia?” Hikma asked. ”Who dares to attack them?” Cytortia, Scathach, Rem, and Melody answered by pointing at the elf who was drinking an apple cider. Hikma stared at the nonchalant Luxinna and turned back toward the gang. ”You guys attacked a government official!” Hikma gaped. ”Are you telling me the chaos this month is all on you?” ”In my defense, Illma picked the fight,” Luxinna said. ”And she was a bitch.” ”True,” Melody agreed. ”Road was a bitch.” ”Technically, we are dealing with a dragon that bitch woke up,” Rem clarified. ”Road got piss-off when her plan got busted, so she picked a fight with Lux. The rest was history. And given what she did, Road deserves what she got.” “Guys, I don’t kno--“ “Cy, gave him the X-cution file.” Cytortia dourly walked into the van and walked out with a brown folder she handed to Hikma. Curious, Hikma began flipping through the page. He absorbed page by page of research note with practiced ease. As he flipped the paper, his expression turned from neutral to alarm before settling to fear-induced disgust. He closed the folder. "Did she really--" "Stitches a bunch of psychologically dead kid inside a mech to use as weapons?" Rem nodded. "Yeah, it was Gregory Road's terrible idea. Illma continued it. Luckily, a brief discussion with Ebony Solarmaria allowed us to find a way to deal with the X-cution, so we aren't that helpless." "And the Alliance made her an Untouchable?" Hikma gaped. "What were they smoking?" "I don't know," Rem admitted. "Until we do, we are safer outside of their detection. Anyway, we took Illma down, but there is a complication." "How could it be any worse?" "The last page of that folder." Hikma flipped to the last page, scanned it with his eyes, and blanched. "My god, did someone dice her to piece?" "Yes, but the most interesting, and the most worrying, is the part that didn't get dice along with Illma." "Part?" "Her head," Rem added a spoonful of spice in an attempt to reduce the stew's almighty saltiness. "Illma's head, or more accurately, her brain, was missing. Now, let head to the assumption territory and suggest the murderer knew what he or she was doing." Rem took a sip from the stew and cringed. "The only thing important about Illma's brain is her knowledge of the X-cution. With the right ritual, preservation, and significant prep time, it is possible to extract that information from her dead neurons like data from the hard drive. There is a grim possibility we might have to deal with a psychopathic killer with a mech army powered by broken children soon." "Is that why you guys are here? To track down the killer." "I wish," Rem mused. "But after reporting that particular debacle to our boss, she told there is a much more urgent crisis on the horizon. A kind that needed our immediate attention." Hikma gaped. "What could be worse than psychopathic killer running all over Phantasia to convert kid into a killing machine?" Instead of Rem, it was Melody who answered that question. "Our boss couldn't tell us everything, but all the signs are pretty damning," Melody slowly reassembled the gun. "Our last crisis ended up with us having to fight a dragon and an Untouchable. If the trend and our boss's insistence on us coming here first is anything to go by, the current mission will likely end with a possible attack on the capital the like Grand Empire have ever seen." Hikma gulped and slowly helped himself with Rem's stew. Salty or not, he needed Sodium right now.

Ebony Solarmaria looked like a mirror image of her daughter, minus the golden eyes. Their house was about thirty-minutes walked from the city market. The gang counted themselves lucky people were more familiar with a talking badger than expected. Each member of Horizon Dawn took to Millian differently. Rem was indifferent. Cytortia went on a shopping spree. As expected of the girl distanced from all social dark-side, the town would have duped Luxinna in a hat-trick if not for Scathach. At long last, they arrived at a small blacksmith shop owned by a lady who greeted Scathach with a glare. “Have a good time, Ma,” Melody walked past her mother and into the house, sparing the gang no further attention. “Dinner ready,” Ebony Solarmaria said with a hinted of worry. “Today is your favorite.” “Rib-eye steak with special gravy sauce,” Melody’s eyes brightened. Ebony beamed. “Thanks, Ma,” the redhead couldn’t help but happily run to the table. Ebony readdressed the gang — or in this case — Scathach. “Long time no sees, traitor,” Ebony launched the verbal catapult. “Er,” Scathach said nervously. “What is with this welcome?” “Oh, I don’t know,” Ebony said sarcastically. “Maybe the fact that you ignored me when I beg you to save my husband from his execution.” “I couldn’t intervene,” Scathach protested. “We have to keep the balance.” “That is how much our friendship worth? You let me, your friend, and my baby ran for our lives for the sake of your precious balance. What a good friend you are, Scathach.” Luxinna and Cytortia glared at Scathach. “You did what?” Cytortia said. “It’s a long story,” the honey badger replied “In my home, that is a lame response,” the elf remarked. “And I spent three-year living in Lightwell forest.” “Scathach,” Rem said, truly fed-up with how an animosity magnet of a mentor. “Please stay outside while I fix your mess — again.” “Again?” Ebony quizzed. “What did she do this time?” “She drove Marley the Magpie into terrorism,” Rem said. “Honestly, he planned to do it anyway, but she could diffuse the bomb before it blew.” “You must tell me that story,” Ebony beckoned them inside. Scathach was about to follow them in when the door slammed shut in her face. Bang! “How much do you hate me?” Scathach glanced up at the sky and asked the goddess who couldn’t answer. “You must enjoy this.” ... “Then Bruno started kicking that guy while Marley apologized,” Cytortia finished telling her story. “The end.” Ebony listened to the story carefully while Melody confidently smirked in the background. The young woman’s eyes glazed across the gang, trying to calculate their worth. In comparison, the gang’s behavior was far less dignified. Cytortia chatted about their adventure and a hundred-twenty random things to cope with her fraying nerves. Luxinna, the forest hermit, chowed down the food as if it would vanish in the next second. Meanwhile, Rem was not amused. Finally, Ebony put her fork down. “Interesting,” Ebony started by praising Luxinna and Cytortia. “Scathach found several gems. High-ranking alchemist with high-level divinity. An elf with noble lineage and lightning in her vein. Scathach surely didn’t drop her game.” Meanwhile, Rem silently ate in the background. Luxinna stopped eating. The silence was too awkward. “Pardon me,” Cytortia blinked. “Scathach loves doing that. She’s obsesses over raising the ultimate warrior. Names that will go in legend.” Ebony grandly described. “I think she hates to see natural talent being wasted. If we agree on something, it the truth that Phantasia is a tiny stage where only a handful of stars shine.” Rem bit his steak in disdain. Luxinna looked at the boy and shivered. The memory of her time as a corrupted flared. God, Rem was boiling. Her instinct screamed at her to get out. The last time she saw him like this, he destroyed a Paracis Corruptor’s army. This house wouldn’t survive the battle. Everyone in the room sensed the tension. Melody stared at Rem. The shining glare in those eyes gazed into his soul. Instead of fear, she felt excitement. Her eyes glowed for a second before they deflated with disappointment. “Hey, Ma,” Melody asked her mother, pointing at Remus Breaker. “What do you think about that guy?” “Useless,” Ebony barely looked at the boy. “He is a foot-soldier.” Cytortia’s face twitched, and Luxinna flinched. Ebony sighed and started describing the situation. “He is a pure human with no elemental affinity. That alone disqualified him from practicing any elemental spells. Human is also the weakest race in Phantasia, who relies on numbers to keep up. With no inheritance, unique physique, or any unique cultivation technique, he has no hope. His stat is also fairly average. I guess he probably annoyed Scathach so much that she kept him around as a punching bag.” Cytortia admitted the evaulation was accurate, but then Rem threw the gauntlet. “What’s the point of this assessment, Ms. Solarmaria?” Ebony looked at Rem, feeling offended. “I just wonder how much Scathach’s disciples are worth?” Ebony replied. “Aside from you, they can be a great help.” “Help with what?” Cytortia said. “Do you ever heard of Aztellic Dynasty?” Melody asked. “What’s Dynasty?” Lux said. Luckily, Cytortia came to the rescue. “Aztellic Dynasty is the Imperial family of Demonic Continent,” Cytortia explained. “Ok, now that we talked about it, what is the Demonic continent?” Luxinna looked at Rem and Cytortia. “You guys never explained what it is?” This question caught Ebony and Melody by surprise. “Your clan never told you,” Ebony asked, frowning. “Lightwell and Aztellic have been waging wars since our founding.” “Err no,” Luxinna said sheepishly. “My clan forbid anyone to teach me anything since I was nine.” “Aztellic Dynasty was found 120 years on a tragedy.” Everyone perked at Rem’s passionless narration. His eyes laced with total boredom and disappointment. The sentence attacked Ebony directly. Let us say the demoness wasn’t pleased. “It is not a tragedy,” the woman’s face frowned with anger. “It’s a triumph.” “I understand,” Rem replied calmly. “I’ve spent several weeks looking through the history of the Continent that’s butt-fucking my world. Know your enemy and all. I am sad for you, mother and daughter. Your dynasty must be an agony. The Demonic Continent fell from grace so bad. It’s just painful to look at.” Melody’s hand clenched into a fist. She forgot the last time she was this angry. “I warn you to choose your word carefully,” Melody’s face stiffened. Her rage simmered like molten metal beneath the Earth’s crust. “Do I have to?” Rem said. “You must admit, Demonic Continent is quite a fitting name. During your founding, you purged all men, women, and children that wasn’t a member of demon-race from your side of the continent. That was how your dynasty found itself; on a swath of land filled with bloods and tears. To break into a new low, you even sold yourself to that clan.” “Sold themselves?” Luxinna turned toward Cytortia. Expecting Rem to be neutral would be impossible. The goddess was the sole unbiased opinion in the room. “Enma Enterprise is the only trading partner of the Demonic Continent,” Cytortia tried to shrink under the table. “The demon’s chief export is military force. Their economy ran entirely on plundering and warfare.” “Okay,” Luxinna said innocently. “She meant that the entire nation is a wage slave under the thumb of a cooperate mafia,” Rem added. “This assumes that wage slaves got so low they licked their master’s boot for overpriced food and clothing. The Aztellic Dynasty makes their living by being Enma’s attack dog — padding their wallet by slaving, looting, and raping their almighty overlord’s enemies.” “That’s not okay,” Luxinna mentally ducked under the table for safety. “Shut up,” Melody yelled. “You can act all high and mighty from that throne of yours! Do you know what happens to us? The elves, the humans, oppressed and discriminated against the demons. All because we shared some traits with the monster! Is it wrong for us to rise!? Is it wrong to fight for equality?” “The demon deserves equal treatment,” Rem nodded. “Humans are terrible beings, misguided and territorial. I will admit this. But allow me to drag you from your victim complex and ask… what do you specifically mean when you said equality?” Forget Melody, even Ebony got stumped by that one. Seeing the advantage, Rem pressed beyond. “Honestly, Ms. Solarmaria, I want to do the right thing,” Rem said. “My entire journey is all about doing the right thing. Please tell me what’s the equality you so obsessively desire. I want to help you get it.” Melody was stumped. She was the master of identifying hypocrisy and flaw in the argument, but this countered was new for her. “I want you to help Melody take the Imperial Throne of Demonic Continent,” Ebony cut to the chase to avoid Rem’s question. “Say what?” Luxinna and Cytortia glanced at each other like deers in a headlamp. Ebony sighed. “My husband, Majesty, is the previous Emperor’s younger brother and his rightful successor,” Ebony luminesced, while Melody wistfully sobered down. “He was in charge of the Continent’s administration. It is a thankless job, but aside for him, no one can take it.” “Wait a minute,” Cytortia said. “Isn’t Majesty executed for treason?” “It is a false charge,” Melody slammed her fist into the table, cracking it. “The current Emperor was afraid of my father’s popularity and bribed the imperial guards and nobles to put him on the throne.” “Majesty never has a chance,” Ebony said sadly. “Jekyll Aztellic, the current Emperor, bought the entire court. The people, those docile cowards, betrayed Majesty when he needed them the most or turned the blind eyes.” Rem remained silent. His brain whirled for more ideas. “Cytortia,” Rem said. “How did the Demonic Continent turn into this mess? I’d read several articles, and it baffles me. The corruption and bribery in the Continent are so high I believe there aren’t any checks at all. The execution sentence is also pointlessly cruel. Burning alive and drawing and quartering is an utter waste of manpower. They must realize by now that warfare economy is destructive in the long run. How did this happen?” Ebony and Melody twitched from Rem’s comment. Melody prepared to say something, but a silent commanding wave from Rem cut her off. Cytortia looked around for permission. With every attention on her, she replied with honesty. “Honestly, I don’t know, but I believe it started with the Emperors. The first and greatest Emperor founded the Demonic Continent by driving off every race but the demon from his territory. Many believe he would attack Grand Empire next if the elves, led by Mia Alusto, didn’t capture and execute him.” Luxinna ducked sheepishly. Once again, her family failed her. “Things went downhill from there,” Cytortia continued. “The second Emperor asked the Enma Clan to back him the throne. After the 2nd death, Enma had the nation on a joystick. They appointed and removed the 3rd and 4th emperor. The fifth got poisoned by the royal guard. And the imperial family is—” “Full of entitled idiots,” finished the voice of Scathach, who was eavesdropping behind the wall. “Their treasury is constantly being emptied to bribe the officials. The entire nation function on plunders — or worse, borrowing from Enma clan. The only reason they aren’t collapsing from the inside is pure propaganda. In my life, I have never witnessed a faction producing more entitled young master, and I toured the entire Phantasia.” “Shut up, Scathach!” Ebony yelled. The information was enough to clue Rem on the game. “You want the power that is rightfully yours?” “No,” Melody said. “I want to fulfill my father’s dream. I want my country to prosper.” Rem admitted it surprised him, but that was within expectation. That was when Ebony started detailing her plans. “Melody, by blood, has the strongest claim to the throne,” Ebony said. “She only has to survive and grow powerful enough to contest for it. The Demonic Continent’s prestige roots in strength. As long as we have enough ability, and powerful helpers, taking back the throne won’t be impossible. I want you two to help her.” Ebony aimed this request at Luxinna and Cytortia, completely ignoring the fact that Rem was in the room. Rem wasn’t angry. The young man calmly rose and announced. “Give up on the throne.” ... That mundane suggestion stunned melody. Then she felt angry. The boy in front of her was too arrogant. Giving up the throne was impossible; it’s her life goal. Moreover, he was a mere human. She had to admit that Rem wasn’t feeble for a human, but he was still trash compared to his companion — much less her. He was only here on a fluke. “What do you mean to give up on the throne?” Ebony looked at the boy in disbelieve. “You come here to recruit Melody for that goddess’s sake. Given that she has to face the like of Tai Hua and Chuang Tianshang, the next Emperor of the Aztellic is not something you can afford to lose.” “I never care about power,” Rem said. “I already lost interest in this pity party when you put strength over everything. But even if you avoid the p-word, my advice won’t change. Give up on the throne. It is not worth it.” “I dare you to say that again,” Melody eyed Rem with murder in her eyes. “Your empire is mathematically unstable from its very foundation,” Rem replied, unafraid. “Your 1st emperor was a great conqueror, but a conqueror’s empire is his personality cult. Most collapses the year he dies. Yours already did. The current Demonic Continent is a walking corpse animated by a clan of greedy beast-men with god-complex.” “A weakling like you know about rulings?” Melody said mockingly. “Sorry, but you don’t look like a ruler to me.” Cytortia and Luxinna stood and back-stepped into the furthest corner of the room. The situation was turning bad fast. “I have nothing on kingship,” Rem admitted. “I’m a student of history. And I will tell you this: your plan won’t end well for anyone. To sit on that throne, you need the key to power. How do you plan to persuade the nobles and factions in your Continent to side with the Princess they never see or trust?” “If I am strong, they will back me,” Melody answered. “Do being strong make you a good and wise leader?” Rem said. “Enma Enterprise is strong, but are they benevolent? Doesn’t this make Mia Alusto the just and wise leader you should aspire to be? I mean, she killed your ancestor back in her heyday.” Melody’s word died in her throat. Ebony stayed silent. Rem chuckled. “What is it about this is funny?” Ebony finally snapped. “My husband got drawn and quartered. I have to raise one daughter while running for my life. I had to teach her how to stand up for herself when everyone called her a demon spawn in a land that fears her kind. What is so funny about that?” “Does a woeful sob-story prove me wrong?” Rem chided. “Emotion base argument is not an argument. Please save the soup and bring the potato.” The room grew colder. “The fact is that your economy is a stage-4 cancer patient,” Rem continued. “It will become critical the minute you start a civil war, which you will if you fight for the throne. Now, assuming we won with enough force to defend ourselves against the opportunist, then what next? Are you planning to execute all who sided against you?” “Yes,” Melody couldn’t see anything wrong with it. “They deserve to die.” Clap! Clap! Clap! “Just like they execute your father,” Rem smiled and clapped mockingly. “The cycle continues! The leader we hate and fear everyone! The all-powerful debtor ruling over the empty nation of ashes and fears. Do you ask yourself what would happen when Enma didn’t like your policy? A prospering country can’t run on an empty bank account, you know? Oh yeah, don’t forget to kill those innocent babies and children too. Those innocent kiddos are all potential time bombs, don’t you think so?” “I need to clean a slate,” Melody angrily yelled back. “Wow, I don’t realize that saving the country means killing the innocent,” Rem replied. “Well, now they have a perfectly good reason to call you a monster. For all your protest, their prejudice and discrimination is sadly valid.” Ebony tried to say something, but she couldn’t. “All those sacrifices and nothing turn better,” Rem shook his head. “Sure, they will respect your strength, but they will never trust you. You will only resume the perpetual cycle. Still, after that terrible civil war, I don’t think you will have to worry about geopolitics. Emigration would be your major concern. Seriously, who would blame them from running away from the Bloody Melody?” Clash! A chair smashed to the ground. Melody looked at Rem, her fist clench. “Let take this outside, coward.”

The sword Scathach gave Rem was a simple double-edge model. It was just leather-wrapped wooden grip attached to ordinary steel blade sharpened until it glinted murderously at a mere reflection of light. All in all, it was only a well-made blade. But if you asked Cytortia, in the three seconds which Luxinna Drakokia first wield it, the sword got elevate into something magical. Scathach's eyes lit on fire. Only Satholia knew what spun inside the badger's head at this point. Rem knew the strike was coming, making Luxinna snapped at him as part of the plan. Psychological wounds only started healing if the patient acknowledges they existed. But his rhythmically executed plan didn't count the skill behind the sword that about to cleave his head open. Such was the artistic majesty Luxinna's sword draw. The proficiency behind the blade was only a step below divinity itself. The arc compacted all aspects of speed and footwork neatly into a single grief-fueled motion. She was wild and untamed, but the hours and passion spent to perfect that slash evolved the blade-work into another league. It wasn't perfect. Inexperience and gaps remained, but what imperfection remained only enchanted sword beyond any artificial perfection. Rem gave up defending. An attempt to eat that attack was nothing less than suicide. His only survival hung on fueling his magical enhancement into full evasion maneuver.  The elegant sweep barely misses, taking off a few strands of his hair. Rem miserably rolled across the ground before getting up. His soul still trembled as the lantern of demise flashed past his eyes. After using an instant to calm his adrenaline, Rem drew a series of throwing blades from his belt and flung them at Luxinna. He could no longer coast this fight. One more blunder and he would surely die. Luxinna managed to parry two magically enhanced knife out of the air, but three slipped past her guard and impaled her knee, ankle, and shoulders. Luxinna grunted from the pain. It was a moment of distraction that sealed her defeat. Rem closed in, power filling his body. He slammed his fist into the elf's stomach. Luxinna gasped, her body bending over from the force. Not wasting the opportunity, Rem grabbed the girl's sword-hand. Magic strengthened his muscle as he pried the sword away. Without missing a beat, in a desperate gamble fueled by panic and fear, Rem clenched his free hand into a fist and swung an uppercut right into the unprepared elf's face. The hay-maker sent Luxinna flying up in the air and landed on the ground with a crunch. Behind him, the sword impaled itself on the ground, signaling the fight's ending. Rem exhaled. His shoulder slumped in exhaustion. Then a blonde missile hit him in the face with a punch. "You brute!" The goddess in green grabbed the boy by the throat and shook the dazed Rem like a pillow. "Who taught you to sucker punch a girl like that? Is that uppercut necessary? You inhuman monster! Deviant! Sadist!" Meanwhile, Scathach checked on the elf girl. To the badger surprised, the girl managed to pick herself up. A trail of blood trickled down her lip. Although shaky, her thin, underfed leg was far from giving up. Scathach looked at the girl. "You can't win," the badger said. "Shut up," the elf struggled past the badger. "I have to kill that guy." "No, you can't," Scathach said. "As flawed as he is, that bastard will win." "You don't know that," Luxinna gritted her teeth, trying to stumble past Scathach. "I will shove a sword down his mouth! Just wait and see." "That is possible," Scathach confirmed. "You are way ahead of him in technique, but that's not the point. The point is that you lack desperation."  The elf stopped moving, and Scathach continued. "I trained him for only a week. His talent is average at best. It only took me to see your forms to know that your talents surpass his by miles. And I guess you work hard with what little you have too." Scathach looked at the wide-eyed elf with a sympathetic gaze. "But Rem has something that makes him downright dangerous: an ideal. Unlike you, who wait for an impossible miracle, Rem fight to prove a point. The type like him will never lay down and accept defeat. In his world, people like him strap a bomb to their chest and blow themselves up to win. You can challenge him to a fight, but that bastard will either die or win. For him, death is preferable to defeat." The badger looked at the hopeless elf in her eyes. "Luxinna Drakokia, what is your ideal? That majestic blade-work wasn't born from something shallow. What exactly hones your sword to that degree? You must have one too! The reason for which you stand up! You can live in the past all you want, but the desires in that sword live for the future!" Luxinna blinked. An image of a little girl stumbling as she tried to copy the family guard come to mind. A drop of tear streaked down her face. "An ideal..." she whispered blankly. Suddenly, the earth shook. The shower of dirt rose into the air as the ground exploded. ... Cytortia and Rem got tossed to the side as the ground flipped over itself. The goddess landed dazed and confused. As for Rem, he was still gathering himself from the hay-maker. Pieces of earth large enough to crush a man flew up into the air as cracks rippled across the ground. The soil groaned, rebelling against gravity in plumes and choking the air with a cloud of dust. The badger somersaulted across the air and landed the Back Mercy. She tapped the van twice. The van fold, shrinking into a portable black disk in a cascading movement of alloy. Scathach looked for Luxinna and groaned. The elf had already run away. Then a deep guttural roar grabbed the three's attention. From the ground, emerged a worm the color of blood. Its counter-rotating teeth whirled in the sound that made chainsaw looked cute in comparison. A forest of purple tentacles burst from the worm beast's chitin-cladded back. A putrid, acidic liquid dripped from the slimy limbs as the worm screeched in a thunderous roar that shook everything standing. The abomination of nature rose to the height of a Ferris Wheel and looked directly at the two dolts lying on the ground. Cytortia's face twitched as both the worm's presence and the stench hit her with the speed of a truck. The goddess courageous stood, trembled, and shouted her war cry. "I DON'T WANT TO DIEEEEEEE!" Then she ran. Her arms waved high, tears of fear gushing as she fled cowardly, praying an unceasing string of pleas for any miracles that might listen. Her speed somehow surpassed even Luxinna. Without a doubt, mortal dangers were excellent catalysts for a future Olympic athlete.  The worm ignored her and turned toward Rem. The boy studied the creature and briefly considered the prospect of getting a braver friend in his next life. The worm growled and spewed out a waterfall of steaming green acid.  Before Rem had the chance to list his life's regret, a brown animal rushed between him and the flood of death on all four. Scathach erected a barrier of red light against the liquid-dousing. A massive explosion of acrid steam ensued. The badger grimaced and erupted in smoke, filling the air with a charcoal mist and smell of burnt rose. A lean figure emerged before Rem. "You go after those idiots," the figure's voice was way more feminine than a badger. However, despite its feminine charm, the tone of the voice resembled sparkling water inside a meat grinder. "I will handle this." "So that is your true form." A woman with brown hair resembled honey badger's fur stood in front of him. Despite being no taller than 1.6m, the woman made up for her size with a rock-punk fashion of plated blouse, spiked biker jacket, and a black jean. She gestured at Rem to move before summoning several spears, which impaled itself into the ground as a makeshift barricade. That moment Rem ran to the hill, leaving Scathath to go to war with the tentacles. ... Unknown to Rem, Cytortia was an expert at running away. She ran at the speed that could dumbstruck a fully grown cheetah. Her years of living under a thumb of maniac seniors honed her raw marathon-power to the point even a nymph fleeing from love-struck god would bite the dust. "Aunty Artio! The giant earthworm will eat me! Help! Master! I am sorry for being a hassle, but I don't want to be ground into- ack!" The blonde goddess yelled the same message over before tripping and wheeling comedically in the air before impaling the ground at high speed. Her body continued to somersault across the dirt a few more times before stopping with a crash. She twitched twice before getting up. She briefly held back her tears, but she let it all out as she ran. "It hurt! Help me!!!!!! Ack!" The girl managed to stumble a few more times, but the goddess of clumsy girls would surely protect her...maybe. Hopefully, she will be okay. ... Although she was much slower, Luxinna was no slouch at strategic retreat either. Three years hunting in the forest did not go in vain for the malnourish girl. The elf agilely leaped over the root of a massive tree. Her footsteps flew across the moss-covered branch as she scrambled away from the disaster zone. Tears streamed down her eyes. What exactly pushed you to practice your sword-form like that? In the cover of massive canopies rising to the sky, the girl's feet glided across the ground. She continued running away from a phantom of grief that slowly caught up to her. Her shabby and worn clothing fluttered as she vaulted over another root and landed in a shower of grasses.  Spores of light around provided her some comfort but didn't fill the void. You must have one too! The reason for which you stand up.  The voice of a badger echoed in her ears. She finally stopped and cracked her fist against a tree. Blood diffused from her knuckles from the recoil. In that despair, the chilling air of the forest draped comfortably around her body like a heavenly embrace. Why am I so frustrated? Luxinna asked herself, but only an image of a girl kneeling in front of the beautiful waterfall came to mind. That pristine place where a twelve-years-old cried her heart out until a cheerful voice calmed her mind, ensuring her that a brighter tomorrow existed. Her leg guides her toward her destination. Maybe her answer was still waiting for her. ... Ways behind those two were Rem. Unlike the earlier duo, Rem's motto was never panic. Even if his heart was going ballistic, he had to pretend everything is under control by any means. Means such as checking inventory. "Swizz-army knife, compass, uncharged telephone, and twenty pounds," Rem looked at his pocket. It was hopeless. "I can't catch them up for sure," Rem whispered to himself. That was the moment the worse motivational speaker ever visited. 'Maybe Luxinna already got done in,' a familiar brown hair boy peeked at him from behind a tree. 'Cytortia has the cure with her, doesn't she? So I guess Paracis Corrupter can't get her at the moment. But Lux-" A throwing knife hit his face and continue to impale the trees behind him like he wasn't there. The younger Rem guffawed. 'I am an illusion, you idiot,' the boy taunted. 'You can't do anything to me in the real world! You self-loathing, jobless-' Rem ignored him and ran. He was a terrible runner. One could say that watching a three-legged dog running away from a bus was better than seeing Remus Breaker fumbling toward his goal on foot. ... Back at the starting point, an epic battle raged. Scathach twirled a spear in her hand, cutting apart any tentacles in her range. In one fluid motion, she snatched another spear from the ground and started rotating both weapons at a tremendous speed as a makeshift shield. Scathach moved around with her spinning barriers with like a circus performer. She danced, nimbly circling away from the shower of caustic green acid while slicing creepy tentacles coming after her body. Unable to pierce her defense, the worm opened its maw and charged at Scathach with its mouth wide open and its gross counter-rotating teeth spinning like the world's largest meatgrinder.  Scathach timed the worm's attack with anticipation. She waited for the golden opportunity before throwing her spear into its mouth and leaped on the worm's exposed back as it dove into the previous location. The brunette warrior ran along its infested spine, cutting the purple flailing tentacles down with each step before launching steam of fire on its back for good measure. As a testament to her skill, not a single black fluid landed on her body in that minute of exchange. Scathach sprang away from the beast, pirouetting twice in the air as she reached the apex of her jump. Below her, the worm squealed as the fire licked its skin. Its putrid tentacles laid on the ground, spewing black fluid after her carnage. Scathach flashed a toothy grin, whirling her spear and taking aim. Her magic surged, surrounding the spear in condensed mana and glowing runes. With a yelled, the warrior threw at the spear worm at speed clocking at Mach 5. "[Land of Shadow Spear Art: Manic Impact]!" The attack landed true obliterating the worm, crushing its fresh, and snapping its chitin as if someone dropped a mountain size anvil on the back. The impact's pressure slice the monster in half, sending acidic blood splashing everywhere. Yet, the worm did not die. The severely injured corrupted let out a roar of pain; its body glowed red-hot. "Sorry, I know about your self-destruct," Scathach grinned with joy as she floated in the air. "[Delay Spell: Explosion]." Inside the worm's stomach, the spear Scathach threw into its mouth early in the clash exploded in a wave of fire. The explosion tore the beast inside-out, finally killing it and drenching the area in a sea of acidic blood. A newly summoned spear impaled the acid-soaked mud, followed by a woman landing on the spear's hilt without ever touching the acidic ground. "Creepy little thing," Scathach said in disgust. "To think the Paracis got something like that... Well, at least it made a good appetizer." Suddenly, something easily comparable to the worm in size exploded behind her, waving its tentacle and three serpentine head. "Good grief," Scathach mused. "To think that it also took over a hydra. Sorry kid, this will take some time." ... "What is this?" said Luxinna in disbelief. Once upon the time, this place was a waterfall of serene beauty. Spores of light would float in the air like a band of rejoicing fairy. Beautiful flowers grew on it bank like the earth's blessing. Chalk-white stones would pave the bank of the crystal-clear spring in an image of a paradise. The water vapor from the waterfall would float in the air, turning it into a comforting mist. But now one large pulsating bud sat on the waterfall. The once clear liquid was now a bubbling poisonous green. A forest of purple tentacles emerging from toxic pool now encroached the pristine white bank. The flowers had long died with this sanctuary beauty. Luxinna choke as the toxic spores filled her lung. The Paracis Corrupter screeched with joy as a group of polluted tendrils struck Luxinna.

Announcement Note: This story will be rebooted later. The entire 170 chapters after this will be treated as a background lore in the new novel thank you from the Sloth ”Once upon a time… Who’s kidding? It is the same story then and forever.” A woman spoke on the platform floating among the teeming sea of stars. In front of her was an innocent doll labelled ’Walt’. To sate her boredom, the woman continued to address the imaginary audience. ”Since the dawn of the multiverse, battles reign between order and chaos, Good and Evil, freedom and oppression. It's battle between the forces holding two perspectives. Such is a way of the universe.” The woman narrated. ”The powers from those battle created the multiverse. By the Law of Moment, the worlds and energy gravitated at the multiversal center to create a central pot containing everything. Whether it be a unique realm of giant war robots, races like elves and demons, several laws of superpower from magic to cultivation, You name it; they have it. That place is Phantasia, the Multiverse realm that connected to every world. Even now more world continued to be merged to it, defying every label ever impose upon its concept.” The woman giggled. ”Isn't it a perfect setting for storytelling? My particular plan just kick-started when Earth got assimilated to Phantasia an hour ago.” The woman calmed down and started playing with the doll, her voice turning softer with every word. ”There will always be factional war threatening Phantasia. There will always be an injustice plaguing the land and the innocent cowering beneath the heel of the dictator.” In the distant sky, a region of stars dimmed much to the woman’s distress. ”And there are always a bunch of world-destroying predators who wants to destroy everything because their DNA told them too. Know some self-control freaks. If it is the fight you want, make sure to book your hospital bed beforehand.” The woman spoke toward the rumbling darkness. Then she looked at the ’walt’ doll. ”Phantasia is a horrible place, but despair exist alongside hope. There is always a chance as long as hope remains. But faith alone isn't enough for this fight. We need people who smart enough to make a miracle with minimal information. People who won’t abandon the mission no matter how hard it is.” ”The difficulty is to gather and invest in them, ” the woman told the doll. ”Thankfully, time is the only thing we have.” … Down in the sand of Phantasia, a young boy with brunette-hair woke up in the middle of clear skies. It was the beginning of a long war.

Hikma fell asleep inside his room in the Black Mercy. After an evening of reading books, Hikma finally fell by the page of an ancient saga. His consciousness faded after absorbing the prelude to the foundation of a legendary dynasty on the moon of Saturn. It was a fable inherited throughout the generation before being recorded in a small book sold to a young enthusiast. Years later, after many transactions, the text finally discovered its home. It was the sleep the would forever change the face of magical combat. … Hikma De Darwin found himself in the middle of a grey desert. He didn’t know how long he stood there. It was like a cut from a movie. One moment there was nothing, and now he was witnessing the brutal brawn between two men. The two men look similar. So similar they could be brothers. The men were exchanging punches and kicks. Finally, one brother emerged as a victor. He held himself up and yelled toward the sky. But the dynasty wouldn’t be created by him. Hikma knew how it ended. He read it. The fallen brother grabbed his sibling by the foot and bit into his ankle. Enraged, the victorious man stomp on the face of his brothers. Neither of them noticed the change in the air, the warping of air and space. Suddenly, the cosmic force unleashed, repulsing the two brothers into the sky. As if mandated by the heaven, rock and dirt flew against gravity, slamming into the bickering men and encasing them inside a prison of earth. In the end, Hikma found himself staring at the moon. It was the punishment for the bickering brothers who became the moon-- a foundation for worthier men. The moral of the story: be a dick, and you will lose everything. ‘Remember, Hikma.’ Hikma’s heart leaped out of his chest. He spun to see a woman in white standing beside him. Hikma instantly knew who she was. Rem and Cytortia talked about her many times, and their description was always the same. “Satholia.” 'Remember this feeling,' she commanded. 'This sentiment is how the Astral Consciousness recorded an event. Often times, realities are the sums of memories. And with the right catalyst, any memory can be recalled.' A light flashed, signifying the dawning of time. Behind Satholia, multiple circlets of light materialized. Hikma couldn’t say the word. He knew those seals better than anything. It was a power that symbolized his worthlessness--totally useless in combat and barely helpful in enchanting.  In some way, it was the very symbolization of him. [Conceptual Seal] “Hikma, you are the only one who can stop the summoning of a Primordial,” Satholia waved her hand, and one of the seals glowed like stars. “You must master the true potential of these diamonds in the rough. You must master the secret of the Arcane.” Satholia tapped him in the head. “Now,” She whispered. “Wake.” … As the capital of the Grand Empire, Venistalis stood tall as its beacon. An earthen color metropolis that shone like gold in the dawn. Its circular outer wall piled tall above even the highest of the four Mage Tower. At the center, the golden royal palace towered over all the city quarters like an invincible guardian. Rising high from above the ground, at the height of 1.45-Kilometer-tall and 3-Kilometer-wide in diameter, the royal palace was a multistories city in itself that housed the royal families and their nobles. It was a megastructure only made possible by the combination of Phantasia’s super-material and magical reinforcement. Four ramparts at South, North, East, and West stretched from palace to the wall, separating the city into four quarters of Fire, Water, Earth, and Wind. Out of these four-quarters, Rem chose the Wind to hold his meeting. While the Earth-quarter, being the center of housing and shops, would make a perfect place to blende the meeting out of suspicion because of its population and traffic. Rem decided to forego the obvious option and chose something less obvious. A quarter used for storage and manufacturing would fit his criteria for a secret meeting location, especially if the meeting took place in the middle of the night.  Rem, sporting a dark hood, a black jacket, pants, and his white mask, waited with paranoia. He waited for thirty-minutes in the shadow. Did Marley crack the code he gave him? That was when a man arrived with a cracked in space. Marley looked around annoyingly before reciting a Haiku. ‘Beneath the moon, I waited. At the Might of Sky, we meet. Where City’s Blood laid.’ Marley groaned. “Is it too much to say you want to meet at the Wind-quarter’s water storage tank beneath the moon?” Marley said. “You sent me a poem for god sake.” Rem stepped out from the shadow. “The Grand Empire would want our head on the pike if they know who we are and what we are planning,” Rem said. “We are right in the middle of our worst enemy stronghold, using a cryptic wording is a no brainer. To be honest, I believe the code is too easy.” “Kid, that code is too easy for anyone, but the Seven Continental Alliance,” Marley said. “The Alliance never intercept your code. If they do, they would already fortify the central bank in the Water-quarter.” Rem bit back his retort. He felt insulted. First, Albert Starling’s unwarranted arrogance and now this? What type of ignorance led to someone prioritizing banking above water? Sure, a financial collapse might be disastrous, but people would survive. Without water, it would be mass panic in a day and riot on the next. “What brings you here?” Marley asked. “Where is Scathach hiding anyway?” “I need to know if there is anything weird going on this last few months,” Rem said. “I know you won’t come here alone. Come on, introduce me to your redundancies. I guess there is a long-range attacker with me on his scope on either three or six-o’clock. I will give you some credit and say he can do a hard shot from three. Am I right? ” Silence. Scathach flickered onto the tank in a mist of shadow. Meanwhile, a grappling hook hit the railing as a young woman in her twenty arrive. Both of them looked annoyed. “You always too smart for your good, Marley,” Scathach said. “Sorry, boss,” said the woman. “He spots me.” Marley nodded. He didn’t feel a flicker of anger toward his subordinate. She didn’t commit any mistake. Rem was just too paranoid. “Yes, she is at three o’clock. How do you work it out?” “I know you know I will bring Scathach. Her skills rule out all the mid-range and melee leverage you have. There are only two sniping spots with a line of sight to get me before her intervention: right at my back or three o’clock clockwise. The back is too predictable. That left the next best option: three o’clock.” “Glad to see you are as fast as ever, kid,” Marley sighed. “You know, under another circumstance, I think you will make an excellent right-hand.” Marley turned serious. “Let get to business. What is happening?” “I guess something is happening,” Rem said. “Come on, say it.” “Don’t play dumb, kid,” Marley said. “Shuang Tianshang completely lost control of the X-cution. Tai Hua lost her unstoppable momentum. Frisnia is in utter chaos. The Royal Consort is whipping her factions to the frenzy after Lord Migras fell into a coma.” That one shocked Scathach. “Migras is in a coma!?” The badger was horrified. “Shit!” “He is important?” Rem said. “Kid, Migras is the Frisnia’s Emperor closest and sanest advisor. His influence and popularity kept the court's backstabbers in check. If he went down without any replacement, then it would only be up to an Emperor in his hundred-eighty with one foot in the grave to keep things together.” “Sir, he was afoot in the grave,” Marley’s subordinate spoke up. “The Emperor is dead. Migras’ incapacitation forced every able-body in the court to take sides. The royal guards decided to switch and allowed the Emperor to get assassinated.” “Thank you, Sasha,” Marley commented with a sour face. “I have never seen this mess before. The royal families are murdering each other for the throne. And the only person with enough clout to keep the order is the Royal Consort.” “Good luck with that when she is on the warpath,” Scathach said. “Shit, this left only the adolescence Queen of Centurion can keep the Tengen Continent together.” Rem must admit the situation wasn’t looking good. “So why aren’t Tai Hua attacking,” Rem spoke up. “She could exploit the chaos, right?” “She couldn’t,” Marley hesitated to say the next part. “Her army is meeting a food shortage problem after the setback. The area she controls also suffered a political upheaval and abuse of power. Many ministers she appointed is..." “Terrible for the job,” Rem finished for him. “Her military merit system is good and all, but appointing someone with little or no experience is the recipe to get cheated. Plus, allowing a criminal protect by meritocracy to run around without any lawful restriction is sure going to lead to pretty intense power abuse.”  Marley, Scathach, and Sasha suddenly realized something about Rem’s inherent sadism. “You knew this would happen to Starland,” Scathach accused. “You know Tai Hua would screw up from the start.” “How did you see this far?” Marley said. “The entire continent, no, the entire Phantasia even, fully believe Tai Hua will roll the continent with no hiccup.” Rem let out a snort of disdain. “The reason you guys can't see the weakness that sits in front of you because you are fixating on strength,” Rem sounded furious. “You care so much ability to blew up a planet that you ignore something significantly more powerful! You forget about the people!” Scathach was surprised by Rem’s outburst. It was a side of Rem she never saw. Most of the time, Rem kept to himself and only shared his thought when he had too. Contrary to the expectation, Rem was a closet worrywart. He considered the worse possibility of the situation and tended to snap when he had to sit in a high-risk waiting game for with no countermeasure. It was an anxiety disorder with a mix of paranoia. Most of the time, such complex made him an incredible planner, but when the pressure get too high, he snapped. Finally, the combination of fear, anticipation, and guilt that he might accidentally give away a world domination plan to a psychopath cracked his Rem's facade and revealed a repressed entity. “You guys are all idiots!” REM yelled. “I pity your ancestors for wasting their fucking DNA on you! Don’t you get it! That bitch is overextending her reaches for months. Did she ever stop to consolidate her power? Did she ever reflect? God no! No power in the world can magic out foods! Meritocracy? Really? Are you guys seriously buying that shit!? A warmonger is never a good stateman! When that little girl asked everyone to join her puny army, did she ever ask herself who would be farming when everyone beat the plow shed into a sword? Yeah, follow the bandwagon. Suck you, bitch. Good luck when all the employer flees your area. How is your burning economy doing, assholes!?” “Kid,” Marley backed away. The killing intense was so immense Sasha hid behind him and shivered. “Calm down. You are-“ “Don’t calm down me, Marley,” REM glared at him. “You should have stopped Tai Hua before this happened. Don’t you get it? The Tengen continent is toasted. We lost an entire continent! And that happens because you guys are so power-hungry you don’t learn basic economics. Oh, trust me, Enma and Aurorin needed to go. But news flash, killing them won’t fix things. They control the trade, buddy. Took them down, and the ensuing chaos will make you wish you are dead! People won’t get oppressed. They will be starving! And good luck dealing with the crime rate!" “Rem, please-“ “Shush, Scathach,” REM looked at her with the brutal power of Center Force. “As the top dog of this continent, the blame for all these debacles rests squarely on the gods' shoulder. Let ask an important question here. Do you know how to lead?” Scathach withered under her glare. She knew the aura. Rem was funneling the Center Force and all her bravado worth zero before Satholia's glare. “You lead by example,” Rem’s words were malicious. “And what example do you give? An example of the queen of heaven who failed so badly she let those donkeys into the world to make mass graves? An example of an incompetent beauty goddess who learns no fucking thing? An impotent fucking pantheon of disappointment.” Scathach decided she shouldn’t put Rem under any more stress. REM struggled with his emotions. He breathed in and out until he calmed down. He turned toward the scare trio. “Now, that I get this out of my system,” Rem said. “Let me continued.” … Hikma wasn’t fighting Luxinna this match. No, that would be too easy, tonight he needed to fight against someone with a different style. “You are slow!”  Melody threw a tree in his direction. To most people, STR values were only to show, but that wasn’t Melody. Her raw physical strength was for real. If the top of E-Rank represents peak human condition, then Melody easily decupled that raw power. She hurled boulder, logs, and heavy objects like it were nothing. Melody was loving the development. The [Dragon Manifestation] was much stronger than the Cultivation art she practiced. While some parts of her still regret that her [Demonic Blood Cultivation] and [Sky Dragon Bloodline] faded when she gained this power, the trade was more than worth it. Most techniques only boosted her strength by a fraction. The highest-level spells only increased the stat by a fixed level. [Dragon Manifestation] was a lot more than that. It doubled her STR and END stats regardless of rank or level. In her dragon-mode, Melody's strength passed the realm of A-rank, throwing a five-tones object wouldn’t be hard for her. Lately, Hikma became adept at dealing with a sword blow, but his raw stat was at best in its measly D-rank. He had no way in hell to bat away a projectile weight a ton. Hikma dropped flat into the ground as a tree smashed into smithereens behind him. He was out of option. He needed a way to stop the projectile. As Melody heaved up another tree, a particular memory from his dream resurfaced. Something inside Hikma shifted. A plane of a night sky. The fight between the two brothers. The waves of gravity undulating time and space. The bending of the attraction between masses of matters. The majestic creeping movement of it all. The rage of the brothers encased in the judgment of stars.  Slowly, like a cat experimenting with a pool of yarn, Hikma channeled the memory through him. He was so distracted by this feeling he forgot to dodge. Luxinna, who spectated the training, was about to intervene when the massive tree deviated off course, flying upward as if an invisible hand lifted it away. Hikma’s eyes blurred as he fainted from exhaustion. Meanwhile, Melody collapsed from a sudden migraine. “What the hell is that?” Luxinna whispered.

Rem woke up after a night-long session of beating his evil self to where REM lost his bowel control. Rem sighed. That brat returned nightly with [Desolator Blade] in tow to get his ass booted in increasingly creative ways. Rem wished the kid would learn, but that status quo got to drag per usual. Tomorrow, Rem planned to ass-shove the bastard with his own [Desolator Blade]. Since he got stuck with this duel, at least he should make it entertaining. Last night battle left Central puking up her gut. Maybe force-feeding that guy poppies until he died was too traumatic for the innocent girl. Rem couldn’t blame her. It was painful, slow, and the mess got everywhere. Rem sat up, tore off the IV dip, and checked his body. Good, his arm remained bandaged, but it didn’t feel broken anymore. Now he needed to get breakfast and started the induction course for Melody. That was when he heard the explosion. … Rem was impressed. He planned to do this, eventually. Classically, Superhero needed two things to rise above simple Hercules — dedication to fight for what is right, regardless of obstacles. Second was the power, skill, knowledge, and will-power to back it up. However, best treat came in three. In this age of the internet, memes, and polarity; justice and heroism must adapt to suit the increasing radicalism. One couldn’t hope to win against the ruthlessness of today by being like Captain Planet. Thus, to revive the trend that died since the last medieval knight of old, Remus Breaker charted an additional rule for the knight of justice. The third condition for a superhero: they must inspire awes that will whip all who follow them to the radical height, or fear that will shatter the enemies’ spirit into surrendering the moment they strike the three-point landing. One must be notorious to the point of legendary. So infamous that even the most fearless of mob bosses feel existential dread at the mere mention of his idiot son stealing the said man’s car and killing his dog. A boogeyman the hero isn’t, for he is terror you brought to burry boogeymen scaring children. Men of conviction so haunting the nightmares checked under their bed twice before going to bed. Witnessing the glory in front of him, Rem admitted that his boss was both almighty and all-knowing. Her vision was far and wide. She was worthy to guide this crusade to chase evil back where it belonged. Rem coughed and addressed the room with renewing gravity. Nah, forget it, he was playing the judge in a Phoenix Wright game. That was about it. On his left sat the bandaged prosecutors. Melody was no longer an immobile sack of potato. However, the past five days had shown her what true victimhood was. Her eyes bruised and sluggish as if she spent several nights warding off an army of politically charged cockroach. She also sported a few more bandages and plasters. For a girl who seemed familiar with fires, Melody’s hair smelled like burnt fish cooked with a flamethrower. Ebony looked as battered as her daughter. Rem estimated she must weather explosion for at least thrice. Standing with the prosecutor was the warrior maid. Scathach was dead serious this time. Their master presented herself in all her rock-punk, depressive, and bandaged glory. Gone was the overworked Badger, replacing it was the furious warrior. On his right, the defendant’s team gathered. Cytortia was handcuffed and gagged. In front of her stood a nervous elf in a business suit. Rem didn’t know how they got the business suit that fit Luxinna, but he didn’t care. The suit looked great on her. Out of curiosity, Rem looked at Cytortia’s Status ID presented in front of him. … CytortiaHeavenly daughter of Wood StatStr: 120 [E]End: 320 [C]Magic: 425 [C]Wisdom: 310 [C]Dexterity: 120 [E] Skill ActiveSage Force: Natural Absorbance [A]Sage Force: Natural Hierarchy [B]Chaos Immunity [D]Healing Master [A]Alchemy [S] Tactical Retreat [A]Animal Communication [B] PassiveGoddess Origin (SS)Divinity (A)Wood Affinity (SSS) … “[Chaos Immunity (D)],” Rem said. “May anyone inform the court?” “It’s an ability for degenerate,” Ebony called out. “Objection,” Luxinna yelled out. “That ability causes the user to be immune to the effect of surrounding disaster. It’s a normal ability.” “Normal, my ass!” Scathach snapped. “That Skill protects the user from the chaos of her own causing. It’s the ability for the ass of the asses.” The warrior maid turned toward Rem. “You only stay chill because you don’t know the pain we have gone through this last three days,” Scathach accused. Everyone, even lawyer Luxinna, nodded. “It must be nice to stay in bed for…” “Silence,” Rem slammed a rubber hammer on the temporary podium. “Or I will start throwing houses.” Instant silence. “Now tell me what happened this last five days that I spent in a coma,” Rem declared. “And bring me the supporting pieces of evidence!” … Ebony rolled forth Exhibit A. Rem founded it profoundly fascinating. The Exhibit was a reddish orange liquid suspended inside a blue gel. Everyone knowing the evidence backed five-steps from the case out of terror. “What am I looking at?” Rem investigated curiously. Cytortia stared at Luxinna. Luxinna returned her stare back. After a solid minute under that accusing gazed, Cytortia surrendered and nodded. “This…” Luxinna began. “is the Sage Force Original Recipe #1. Officially named the Burning Sunshine.” “Emphasize on burning,” Melody stated. “Your honor, I suggest we shut the loser up,” Luxinna pointed out. “I also petition to rename Melody as Ms. Fail.” “I object,” said the none-to-please Melody. “Objection override,” Rem said. “Continue with the case. Tell me what I am looking at.” Luxinna waved her hand at the Burning Sunshine while staying as far from the evidence as she could. “What you are looking at is a mixture of Serene Sunroot and Burning Lemonade in 3:1 ratio, purified to 93% purity, and enhance with [Sage Force] before catalyzed under lightning.” Luxinna described. “The solution could theoretically help heal the user of fire-type Cultivation Technique and heal an internal injury. It is…” Luxinna hesitated. “It is perfectly safe.” “Safe. My. Ass,” Scathach furiously burst out. “Why don’t you maniacs mention anything about the heat the solution emits?! It cracked the ground by mere exposure and nearly burnt the rest of the house down.” Rem nodded, gazing at burnt patches of the ground beside Ebony’s smoldering house, so that was the story behind the explosions. “The house is already destroyed!” Luxinna defended. “Don’t act sassy with me, you dolt!” Scathach scolded. “The solution’s temperature is so high it melted all the containers. You idiot barely concocted a cold temperature suspensor before the cauldron melted! Do you realize what would happen when that thing leaks!?” Cytortia’s eyes turned toward Rem for support. Sadly, Rem, despite being mean as hell, was an impartial judge. Luckily, Luxinna excelled at craftily with cleaning up messes. “But the experiment is a success right!” Luxinna questioned Melody. “You are a fire-type cultivator. You should feel the benefit of Burning Sunshine.” Melody’s face wrapped into expressions of total accusation. “Yes, if I can even drink it without dying,” Melody said. “Even Magma is incomparable to that super-heated sludge!” “Okay, okay,” Rem clapped, shutting down the dissent before things went overboard. “Is that all the evidence?” “Hardly,” Scathach rose. “Let us produce the crazy goddess most egregious blunder yet. Melody, rolls in the Black Despair.” … Melody carted in a jar with a bunch of sealing papers pasted all over it before the jury. Rem knew those handwritings. Scathach wrote those papers, but what got Rem’s interest was the fluid inside the jar. The liquid was pitch black and bubbling with slow and creepy noise. The container sealed away most of the toxic waste’s smell, but Rem could already guess a month-old roadkill would smell better than that abomination. “This abomination is the Black Despair,” Ebony stood to give her testimony. “The idiot goddess and her accomplices believed buying five kilos of unprocessed Monster cores, enhancing its curses with [Sage Force] and Corpse Mushroom for 24 hours in an airtight seal then adding a corrosive Hesian acid and aging the damn thing for twenty-four hours is sane. This abomination is the result.” Rem assessed the jar with sagely look. “Excuse me, but you had to be clear about what it does?” “Mmmmmmm” Cytortia waved her hand in distressed. “The defendant said Black Despair is useful for fermentation of multiple useful substances,” the elf lawyer translated. “I don’t call deadly poison and dark-type medicinal plant useful,” Ebony argued furiously. “Dangerous? Absolutely! Perverted? Maybe! But useful? Who has uses for poison?” “I do,” Rem raised his hand. Silence. Realizing that her argument fell to deft ear, co-prosecutor Ebony switched the method of attack. “But its side-effects is outrageous!” Ebony spoke. “Scathach lists the damage!” “Yes,” Scathach stood beside her temporary allies. “Upon the moment of its unsealing, Black Despair attracted a hoard of ghosts into the area. Every tenant around the area was forced to evacuate on sight. All of us had to deal with the attacking ghost for 48 hours straight!” “Two questions,” judge Rem raised his hand. “First, why didn’t I hear about this beforehand? Second, isn’t this place is already deserted when we arrived?” Luxinna rose to capitalize on the situation. “Your honor, the area is sparsely populated before the ghost hoard arrives, therefore no harm is done!” “Deserted your ass,” Melody countered. “I will admit this area is close to the black market and slum. But while it might feel empty, we still have communities living here.” “It is a ghost block,” Scathach admitted. “They dumped the lazy-bums and jobless new-comer like you guys here. Seriously, Ebony, why do you pick this place to set up shop?” “Shut up,” Ebony cried out. “You are smart enough to understand why I am stuck in this dump! Setting a shop closer to the business-sector is like advertising myself to Jekyll. Anyway, because of these dimwit experiments, this area got even more wasted. To your jackass honor, if that the ghost hoard so dangerous it scared drug dealer and loan sharks away isn’t enough to convince you about the danger of this accursed drug, then nothing could!” “Both of you cannot answer the first question,” Rem smacked the hammer down. “Where is the ghost?” Everyone looked at each other. Seizing rare opportunity, Luxinna went for an all-or-nothing counter. “Your honor, that would bring you to Horizon Dawn’s pride jewel.” … The third artifacts rolled to be judged by the mass. ‘Your honor,” Luxinna said, presenting a red crystal to the audience. “This is Sage Force’s Original Recipe #3, also known as the Ghost Detecting Crystal. It was our solution to the ghost problem.” Scathach snorted. “The problems you created.” “Mmmmm,” said the gagged and handcuffed goddess. “She wants to say the problem you cannot solve.” Luxinna translated. Rem smacked the table with his rubber hammer. “Order!” Rem announced. “Order to court! Now tell me what’s happened?” Luxinna came out of the podium for her last defense. “Yes, your honor. Seeing the increasing failure of the prosecution side on the ghost’s issue, defendant Cytortia developed an alternative method when all else fail.” “You are lucky it worked,” Melody said. “What you guys did is one of the riskiest things I’ve ever see.” Rem wanted a soft drink. Today was turning into one celebration of entertainment. “Interesting, so what was the plan.” “I have Cytortia’s note right here,” Luxinna showed them the scribble much to Cytortia distressed. The elf glanced at the notebook and sulked. “Your honor, it will take me quite a while to decipher it.” “Give it to me,” Scathach said, taking the note. “I am familiar with the dolt’s note-keeping.” Scathach began reading the note. “The ghost is all over the place. Keep this up, and that demon badger will offer me up as a sacrifice. To counter this, I have a plan. I’ve placed a tub of Black Despair in the designated area. Suspend over the solution is a drilled Angel Tear Stone. Theoretically, Angel Tear Stone’s purifying property will contain the ghost’s malicious influence. Black Despair will draw the ghost toward the crystal, and the Angle Tear stone — with its Natural Absorbance turn to max — will trap the ghosts in one go. To make sure this project works, I secretly prepared 5 kg of Burning Sunshine laced with Holy powder to help ignite those evil spirits. Finally, to tame the ghost traps in the crystal, the crystal shall be boiled with Natural Hierarchy boosted monsters’ blood.” Scathach finished the narration. “Impressive,” Rem whistled. “So, use does ‘Ghost Detecting Crystal’ have?” Cytortia waved her hand and complained through her gags. “She said she barely tested it,” Luxinna translated again. “But we already see some potential. The crystal works like some sort of warning system. When Scathach started hunting Cy down, the Crystal began vibrating, glowed bright red and started showing a strange vision of an enrage Scathach.” “Bullshit,” Melody said, turning toward Rem. “You can’t be believing this right?” “Is the vision created from bloody red smoke?” Rem said, more stone-faced than ever. “Yes. How did—” Luxinna’s face sank. “The crystal is activating behind me isn’t it.” Luxinna spun back and watched the video of doom played out. Meanwhile, Rem wrote on a notepad. The gang and the Solarmaria saw the glowing crimson crystal emitted a cloud of red smoke. The red vapor coiled, creating an image of a massive lizard with wings. The dragon’s eyes quivered drowsily. The message was obvious; this thing was awakening. The images zoomed out. Its axis shifted to present the dragon as a small figurine sitting beneath a town made of red smoke. Finally, the crimson smoke regathered and formed into an image of a drill which morphed into a symbol of a stylistic tiger face encircle by a ring of coiling dragon. The smoke disappeared but left behind a feeling of dread. “Hey, that last symbol is the dragon coiling around a tiger, isn’t it?” Ebony said. “Oh, Fuuuuuuuuck,” Scathach groaned. “It’s them, isn’t it?” “I knew it,” Melody felt vindicated. “Those bastards have an agenda here. The mayor is an idiot for welcoming those loan sharks.” Cytortia banged her head on the table and let out a muffled scream. “Guys,” said the oblivious forest elf. “What’s that symbol? Who are we dealing with?” In the moves that surprised everyone, it was Rem who answered the question. “That is Enma Enterprise’s emblem,” Rem answered before standing up and issuing the next instruction. “Ladies,” Rem looked around. “Well, we seem to lack in gentleman department, aren’t we? Very well, I left behind a written instruction in case anything happens. Now please excuse me while I dig around for any clue regarding a mysterious dragon and a clan of power drunken beast people. Za Wa, I can see you eating Ebony’s cookies under the table, come with me buddy, I need you for today’s ’shopping. And Cy, good job, your merit nullifies your punishment. Court adjourn.” And Rem coolly walked out, and octopus slithered from its hiding place and leaped on his shoulder. Both of them left, leaving behind five very confuse people.

Neither Horizon Dawn or Illma Zoldia Road threw the first punch of this war. No, what sent the North section of Millian into Anarchy was the quaking ground and the beast risen from beneath the earth. Houses toppled, streets uprooted, and citizen panicky wailed as a dragon 140 meters long swatted everything aside. Without warning the beast spewed out fires turning the road below it to cinders. The dragon roared, shattering all glassware in its range. In the distance, the citizen of Millian watched the dragon rampaged. Some braver resident gathered to fire a few blasts of magic, only to see their best attacks fluttered weakly against the dragon scale. It was a devastating blow. … On the faraway roof, Rem geared up to face the dragon. Behind him, Melody watched powerlessly while the beast of destruction swatted her favorite coffee shop to smithereens. She knew she didn’t have a chance. Facing a real dragon made her questioned why did she even bother trying to kill it. That was why in this world without hope, the figure of that boy shone brighter than ever. How could he still dare to believe? “I know this is the worse time to ask this question,” Melody asked with newfound respect. “But why do you think I'll fail as a ruler?” “Wow,” Rem eyed the rampaging dragon and forced his fear beneath the veneer of calmness. “Do you know you should ask that question from the very beginning? You need to get more in touch with your introspection.” “Fine!” Melody threw her hand up. “I'm an idiot. Just tell me why you are so gung ho against me taking the throne.” Rem sighed. “Truth is I never believe in monarchy. The idea of a person crowns by the divine to dictate how an entire nation should think fails because heaven is full of morons. The diadem, the throne, they're just decoration. Shiny confetti made to boost a mortal man’s pathetic ego. The nation isn't you, or the land or the stupid throne, but the people; that realization is what you are missing." “The people?” Melody yelled. “I care about people! I’ve said that already!” “Then what do they want?” Rem replied. “Did they beg Melody Solarmaria to sit on the throne or is that your ego talking?” Again, Melody ran out of answers. “They never want you, Mel,” Rem said. “Admit it. The people, therefore the nation, give zero fuck about their ruler’s birthright. I can sit on that throne, keeps my promises, and they will invent hundreds of reasons why I am the greatest emperor of the Demonic Continent. Being a ruler is a godforsaken career of juggling ungrateful masses and scheming moneybags at every waking moment. Hell, waking is an exaggeration. A crisis might strike 3 A.M., and you won’t have a choice but to get up. Trust me. No job is worth your peace of mind, privacy, and dooming your entire line to fight idiotically over a musical chair. Now tell me, do you still want to be an empress?” Rem stopped talking and marched to face the dragon, leaving a sulking Melody behind. “Rem,” Melody said his name for the first time. “You must hate nobility, right?” Rem paused. “Technically, things I like can be counted on two hands,” Rem admitted. “My world had done a bang-up job to make me hate everything.” Rem was not kidding, and Melody knew it. “Is it possible to beat this system?” Rem sighed again. “While it true I despise nearly all monarchy, I do respect a king. This particular king was a natural problem solver, expert on water control, and an agriculture innovator. He babysitted his nation for sixty years in total and united the shithole of a country into what it is today. Even I admire that monarch. The thousands of projects under his name, from economic invention to artificial rain, are economically and tactically brilliant." “So it is possible-“ “Don’t get your hope up,” Rem quickly jabbed in. “Despite the king’s ability, his people were highly inflexible. Their law ran afoul with the information age. Long story short, a crisis the broke the country in half, and no one could stop it. The people learned nothing from the king's example. To satiate their warped perception of justice and loyalty, they betrayed everything their monarch stood for. In the end, the king inevitably passed on peacefully as the nation took a downward spiral, proving that even the brightest among us powerless against human's stupidity.” With that, Rem gave his closing statement. “This is my answer, Mel. I don't know what it takes. I do know that successful Dynasty eventually ends in carnage. Given all of those great people eventually fail, what chance do you have?" … Illma observed the dragon with obsessive glee. The battlefield was a place to relish, to feel masses of ant crushed beneath her boot. Mayor Port registered his guest derange smile and silent prayed for salvation. “Good,” Illma saw the dragon trashed another house. “Prepare to fire.” Taku gulped and readied the men. He instinctively knew this was a bad idea, but going against Illma was suicide. The only thing they could do is take the beating. That was when plumes of white mist erupted around them. “What's happening?” Port coughed. Below him, soldiers turned toward each other in panic. One the men fought through the dense fog and discovered a disk shape device exuding a cloud of white. His heart sunk as he recognized the concealment rune it. Across the encampment, more disk surfaced. Illma and her supporters blinked in disbelief. Someone just pulled a subterfuge on an Untouchable. It was a suicidal declaration of war against the world order, one with no hope of victory. "Who?" Taku nearly fell over at the thought. "Who would dare do this?" Illma didn’t answer. Instead, she noticed the swarms of wrath flowing into the encampment. Then she heard the monstrous beast roared in her direction. The dragon unfurled its wings and rushed toward Illma's country house. The black wings, large and imposing as its enormous bulk, blew away all the settlements in proximity. Everyone witnessing the beast wept in silent horror as it began flew past them to reach its target. For a split second, Illma traveled back in time to a lonely room where a little girl cried with only robots created out of broken children to keep her company. Illma clenched her fist. That little girl already died. Daddy taught her to be tough. Only status and power could crush all dissenter under her boot. If only daddy realized that sooner, mommy wouldn't die. “Open fire at the dragon!” Illma screamed. Who cares if someone opposed her? She didn’t need to know their face. She only had to crush them. Suddenly, Port stumbled beside and pointed to the distance. His face paled by raw fear. Illma turned into that direction, and what she found scare her. A figure in black stood in a cloud of swirling black smoke; his face was a white fedora and a mask. It unforgiving red eye glowed from the darkness like a will of hell god. … Earlier in Horizon Dawn camp. Ebony spread the new gear on the table. “I take the liberty to improve your gear,” the Duchess of craft spread the black, metal-plated leather vest and pants on the table. “After reverse-engineering your Anti-mage shell. I managed to develop and anti-magic alloy and plated it on your uniform. This suit can block magic up to B-rank and minimized the rest; quite a cutting-edge piece.” She flipped the cloth revealing the silver color. “1 mm of cross-weave Mithril-fibre lining to minimize the weight and maximize durability; very expensive in the current market.” “And a hell to repair,” Cytortia groaned. “Worry about that later,” Ebony continued, placing Rem’s revolver on the table. “I also tuned this. The mana-ignition system is ingenious by the way.” “Thanks,” Rem took a revolver for a spun. “More onerous, but still perfectly balanced. What do you add to this?” “Nothing much, just 100g of Orichalcum to the frame for stability and durability,” Ebony said. “I also added a stun-gun to the hilt for the close-combat. You activate it by flipping the hilt’s switch.” Ebony then presented the gang the white mask. “I've readjusted the mask’s plating, refined its mechanism, and added in some enchantment of my own,” Ebony said. “And let not forget this?” Ebony procured a box of bullets, followed by a set of throwing knives. “Anti-magic alloy cutleries and shells,” Ebony advertised. “Perfect this hellspawn evening.” … Rem nervously ignored Illma and eyed the dragon. He took a deep breath. It was a do or die moment; one mistake and the plan would blow up. Rem's expressionless mask hid his erratic breathing. To wait for the dragon, and cripple it, was his duty; there was no way he would back down. The moment the dragon past the twenty meters mark, Rem turned and ran toward Illma’s direction. The Untouchable built her encampment from walls and watchtowers of wood and stone. And that was where Rem planned to bring her reality crashing down. Rem dashed toward the watchtowers. It was a mad 450-meters sprint fueled by magic. Then the Signum artilleries began firing. Fiery trials erupted behind the encampment wall. One bolt landed on the house behind Rem, burning to oblivion. Another shot decimated a settlement beside him. Rem gritted his teeth; 300 meters left. He leaped to a roof of another house, narrowly dodging the deathly blitzes, and landed with a slide. Behind him, three stray bolts impacted the dragon, staggering the beast but only accomplish in annoying it. The dragon screeched and sped up toward the encampment with new vigor. 150 meters until victory. Rem somersaulted into the air and painfully landed on his back. Thankfully, his uniform absorbed most of the impact. He picked himself for the final leap of fate with a harsh breath. The dragon finally spotted a moving prey and unleashed its soul scorching fire. The flame burned everything behind Rem to cinder and sent a flash of heat down his backside, but he did not give in. [Arrival of Dream]. A rainbow light flashed through the night, bringing a piece of a dream to reality. It was proof that tonight an untouchable evil won’t escape its reckoning. 75m reached. The plan was a success. A gigantic great-sword blazed into existence in Rem’s outstretched hand. The boy landed on the nearby roof, cracking the tiles with a loud crash. He launched himself toward the dragon with a burst of air. He raised his legendary weapon high and met the dragon's flame head-on. … [Eas End Rank: B Ability:Dragon Doom [A]Anti-Dragon [Ex]Dragon Warding [SSS]??? Demerit: Curse of Contamination [A]Dragonic Restriction [Ex] Origin: Legend of Asthur Info: To combat Eas, the dragon who had spelled doom to five out of twelves continent of Asthur, the hero Ar’maskur forged Eas End out of 5.6 billion souls of Eas’s victims. Eas End was the most potent anti-dragon blade in the legend of Asthur; fueled by wrath a hatred of 5.6 billion souls. This sword could nullify the power of the dragon an even fell the strongest of their kind. However, the sword only showed its strength against a dragon base enemy, not to mention the corruption power of 5.6 billion wraths.] Central cringed the moment the blade appeared. “Rem,” Central whispered with concern. “Are you sure you can take the [Curse of Contamination]?” “No… Choice…” Rem gritted his teeth as curses worth nine generations of his ancestral tree slammed into his eardrum. He wanted to puke, but he swallowed the bile down to do his job. The heavily constipated knight tanked through the inferno of Sicilian Ghost’s fire. Eas End's [Dragon Warding] minimized the damage, allowing him to push through the flame without getting cooked. The boy, protected with his blade, slammed past a thin layer of evil spirit protecting the dragon. He swung his sword, taking out the dragon's right eye with a wet slash before landing on its wing. With a war cry in defiance of both the impossible odds and the billion voices screaming at him to die, he plunged the sword into the dragon wings. The artillery explosion went off somewhere on the dragon, shooking the dragon despite the damned spirit's protection and nearly knock Rem off. However, the boy dug his heel in, refused to back down, and plunge his sword into the appendages with a pained grunt. The behemoth screamed. With his very last stamina, Rem ran across the limbs, slicing the sword through its flesh, hacking it clean off. The corruption from Eas End finally overloaded his mind; as he fell with the black leathery wing. But the dragon's roared woke him up. No, he must do more. They were counting on it. “Central,” Rem whispered. “Activate [Dragon Doom].” “Roger, my lord.” Only 25 meters until F-U 1 succeeded. … The last one minute blew Illma’s arrogance to the wind. That thing must be a god in disguise, but that was impossible. Why would a god go against an Untouchable? Illma wanted to cry. Her world view was melting catastrophically before her very eyes. How could this thing exist? How could it even arrive in Millian? Logic dictated that nothing below A-rank stood a chance of surviving the Signum-S4 bombardment, but that logic had its spine broken today. Whatever it was not only survived that bombardment but also made it through the dragon's fire and chopped off its wing. Illma’s nearly collapsed to the floor. What the hell did she provoke? How could she survive a fight against a god? Then she saw that thing swung its sword, emitting a wave of purple flashed which cleanly cut off the dragon tail. Illma barely noticed the house which the limped figure crashed down. No, she only witnessed the dragon’s bulk fell from the sky. Without its wing, tail and right eye, the dragon could no longer control its flight. As a result, it crash-landed with its momentum being a director. Illma realized then that she miscalculated. The dragon was too strong to be killed by a Signum-S4 artilleries, and the god with red-visor billed her dearly for that blunder. The dragon the size a galleon and weighting in several tonnes smashed into the encampment. The impact swept everyone and everything in its path with the noise of a hundred exploding powder kegs. Woods, stone, and people fly into the air barely able to denote up and down. Taku crouched down, praying the gods for his safety as the crescendo murder his ears. Mayor Port was sent flying like a plump, middle-age beachball. Illma fell off the wall as everything around her thunderously collapse. … Plan F-U1, aka luring the dragon to Illma’s encampment and immobilized it there to limit the damage’s scope, was a success. Damage count:1) Rem incapacitated.2) The dragon was critically injured.3) Illma’s encampment 45% destroyed.4) 2 X-cutions crushed. 30 soldiers and guards injured or decommissioned. HD won the first round.

Melody stood in front of the crowd. A minute of silence followed before the laughing started. “What?” A handsome adventurer hunched over, jeering alongside the rest of the crowd. “Are you expecting us to quit and go home after your speech, girly? Quit the dramatic and move out of the way already.” “Is that girl crazy?” The scantily cladded woman wondered. Melody sincerely wished she had Rem’s ability to piss people off, but things went further down the hill within seconds.  “Hey,” one of the low-ranking adventurers recognized the girl. “I know you!” Uh oh, Melody had a bad feeling about this. “You're the girl who stole my stuff! Weeks ago, I barely made it out of your antics alive! You steal my Water Stones and set the mob after me!” “Oh,” Melody flinched. She finally understood why the man looked familiar. “Okay, I understand I'm not the best person in the world, but you need to listen-” “You punch me in the face!” Shouted a woman with an eye-patch. “Well, you also stole the stone!” Melody argued. “Not that it matters. I already sold all of it.” “You broke my arm in a bar fight!” “It’s a fair match,” Melody shot back. “And we already signed the agreement. I won the money fair and square, get it.” “Stop it all of you!” An elderly man yelled. “We are getting nowhere. You Majestia’s daughter, aren’t you?” “Yes,” Melody recognized the old man. He was one of her mother regular customer. The old man sighed. “What’d you want to say, kid?” Melody used this opportunity to the best she could. “Illma will get you all killed. That dragon is an A-rank Sicilian Ghost Dragon! It's pretty much immune to all attack under A-rank! Fighting it with the normal tactic isn't bravery! This entire charter is a deathwish!" The scantily cladded woman snorted. “Okay demon brat, let me make this clear. "You, who have a record of stealing and cheating people, several of them are in this very group, are telling us we will die fighting the dragon? Why should we believe you? For all we know, this might be one of your scams?” “It’s my word against Illma Zoldia Road,” Melody said. “You are not trusting a mass-murderer to play fair, do you?” The woman snorted. “Yeah, that makes this decision way too easy. Who should we trust, the official of the Seven Continental Alliance or a thief? Sorry kid, playtime is over. Richard, help me punt this kid out of the way?” The scarred man accompanying the woman moved toward Melody, but a wrinkled hand blocked him. “Let me talk to her, Richard,” the old man said. “Her mother and I go a long way back.” Richard frowned, but he didn’t contest the old man. The old man softly spoke to Melody. “Did Majestia know about the dragon?” “She’s the one who checked the math. Every calculation pointed out that over 86% of you will die. Please don’t do this?” “Please?” The old man felt surprised by that word. “Majestia would faint from shock after hearing this? You, the tiny brat who went around behaving like you own the world, finally learned to ask nicely. Well, hell truly can freeze over.” Melody glanced at the orange glow in the distance. “Yeah, I have a long way to go. ” Melody said to both the old man and herself. “I have a dream, and I believe that I couldn’t get there by being better than everyone else. That every obstacle in my way will sort itself out if I am powerful enough. This last month was a revelation. I got knock off my high horse twice by a guy even weaker than me. I told myself that it’s unfair, but in the end, what I had isn't courage, it's stupidity. Arrogant idiocy wouldn't prove me worthy. That worthiness came with a responsibility to live up to heavier duty. The true leader knew they were facing an impossible odd. He may shake at its weight, but he won't hesitate, even if it meant laying down his life for his comrade. If I couldn’t come close to him, then I should give up on my dream, and I couldn’t do that.” “Sorry,” Melody raised her fist. “But I have to stop you guys from killing yourself.” “Such a shame.” The adventurer rushed toward the girl as she ran to meet them. The girl ducked under the old man's blade. He struck with the flat of his sword, but the girl knew he was a B-rank. Risking herself fighting him first was a sure lose. So Melody aimed for the weaker ones; a person unable to move means one more who wouldn't die. She craned her neck to dodge a fireball and retaliated with a punch that broke the mage’s shoulder. His warrior teammate swung a sword at her, but she was faster. Batting the sword off course with the back of her hand, Melody finished the fight an elbow strike. Finally, a palmed on the panicking healer, eliminating an entire team. “Touching story,” the old man drew his blade. “I believe you kid, but I also have a responsibility for my guide and my men. Out of respect for your mother, I ask you to move, or all of us will move you.” Melody tried to catch her breath. Sadly, a profoundly built adventurer barged into her with a full-body tackle before she could catch her breath. The momentum carried her several meters, but the girl didn’t go down, her foot managed to found the ground. With the leverage of friction, she threw the adventurer twice her weigh-in a beautiful suplex, knocking him out in one move. Suddenly, a massive column of water caught her by surprise, propelling the girl into the house behind her. Melody impacted with an explosion of splinters and dust. The adventurers started to leave until Melody reemerged. Her clothing wet and sorry and her head screaming like hell. "Four down, hundred more to go." ... While Melody fought against the army of adventurers in, one certain goddess was screaming out her mind. "This is a terrible idea!” Cytortia looked down on the ground beneath her. She was about fifty meters up with the wind blowing in her face and her heart dropping to her boot. The goddess hugged the worn and rusted ladder for dear life. Tears were visible on her eyes. “Shut the hell up and climb the ladder!” The badger was on the roof of the spires, looking the rampaging dragon setting a house on fires while getting annoyed at the crybaby who couldn’t tolerate a fifty meters drops. “I don’t want to go up!” Cytortia made the mistake of looking down to the ground below. Images of her body shattering like glass flashed in her mind, and she cried even harder. “Just where the hell is Rem when I need him?” Scathach sighed. She wanted to do the job herself. Just launched F-U2 into the dragon’s jaw and called it a day. Sadly, that action wouldn’t solve the problem. She was here as the useless goddess’s trainer; this meant no babysitting. Cytortia couldn’t afford to hide in the box of foams forever. Both Scathach and Rem talked about this. Horizon Dawn was her organization, and Cytortia must stand up and lead it. That girl needed to forge her courage and grew some actual leadership. Crying forever wasn’t an option for her. “You have to,” Scathach said. “This is your plan, right?! Your friend needs you to take out the dragon’s fire! People are counting on you now, so get up here!” “I can’t!” Cytortia screeched as the Sicilian Ghost dragon started stumbling toward them; burning the ground into a soul-roasting hell with every step. The goddess felt the heat from fifty meters up, and she screamed even louder. “The fire!” “Imagine it isn’t there!” Scathach yelled. “You hold up against a Paracis Corruptor. What could a little bit of fire do to you? Now get your ass up here right now!” The goddess sobbed from raw fright. What blazed below her wasn’t a little bit of fire, but the hell-plane level of it. Still, the goddess persisted. Fearfully, tearfully and regretting every single minute of the climb, the goddess reached her destination. “What next?” Cytortia said. Scathach put up a flare. “We light this up and get the dragon’s attention.” ... The Sicilian Ghost dragon burnt five mores cyborg made out of broken children. Although in pain, the energy it'd consumed from the ghost more or less move it away from critical danger. But nothing could quench its pain and rage. Fuel by its fury, the dragon demolished the wooden settlement that was once a souvenir shop in one swipe. That was when the dragon noticed the light on the spires above it. Red-flame held by a furry animal and girl with a short blonde-hair framing the side of her neck. The dragon rabidly leaped at the visible target; a mad mixture of hunger and furry enveloping its mind. The duo reacted. In one move, the furry animal lifted the goddess by the waist and leaped out of the spires. The dragon crashed into the building, leaving the rain of wood and brick in its wake. Realized its prey escaped, the dragon chose to open its mouth and breathed a firestorm. That choice was a blunder. ... Panic rattled Cytortia’s mind, but the desire to survive trumped it. She twisted the green ball in her hand, priming the mechanism, and tossed it at the dragon’s fiery breath with all the strength she could muster. F-U2 was a collaborative project between Cytortia and Melody under Rem's specification. If the first step of the plan was disabling the dragon mobility, the second stage was to disable its fire. Usually, this would be a fool’s errand. All dragon had fire-immunity, but Rem, the headmaster of Breaker's school of cheating, decided to break that rule with observation. You might not be able to cook the dragon's scale, but you could assuredly BBQ its beef. Hence, project F-U2 spun into motion. Cytortia again toyed with her Burning Sunshine chemical. It took the S-rank alchemist virtually no time at all to tinker with the chemical formula to create a hyper volatile fuel. The only alchemical difficulty left was altering to magnify the dragon's fire into something more deadly and mass-produced the entire things. Then HD went to research Space Stone container to Scathach's sanity demerit.  Space Stone was raw materials for storage devices commonly used in Phantasia. When processed, Space Stone would produce a pocket space that could contain a specific volume of material. While high purity Space Stones used storage ring had an astronomical price, its raw material wasn’t. Hence, Horizon Dawn came up with an idea, jammed as much Burning Sunshine as possible into the storage stone, mixed it with dragon’s fire, and detonated it in the dragon’s mouth. Scathach and Ebony reacted calmly until the math was written down. After witnessing Rem’s calculation, the Duchess of the Craft and Warrior Maid lost their lunch completely. Low-grade Space Stone produced the pocket space size of a small storage room with a volume of 6 m3. Burning Sunshine had a density similar to oil (800kg/m3). Quick calculation translated to 4.8 tons of volatile explosive for one unit of Space Stone. Considering that only 15 kilograms of Burning Sunshine melt stone by raw heat, Rem estimated that 1 kg of Burning Sunshine was scalable to a kilo of TNT. Even with that low-ball estimate, the power of the blast was comparable to half of the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima. Simple translation: never mind the dragon, the gang wouldn’t survive it, Illma wouldn’t survive it. Milian itself wouldn’t survive it. That was how horrifying the original F-U2 was. Thus, in unanimous agreement, Horizon Dawn decided to downscale F-U2. Instead of a city-busting explosion, the gang settled for bunker-buster. Even then, the badger would have to live with the terrifying knowledge that Rem could nuke any capital in the world with zero effort. The green ball of doom absorbed the fire and glowed. The explosive two-second delay kicked in, buying enough time for the bomb to come within a touching distance of dragon’s mouth. Scathach leaped as far as possible into the air with the most potent propulsion magic she had. Her hand weaved the defensive spell to block the blast she knew was coming. Then a hundred meters tall fire-ball lighted up of the entirety Millain. … Illma wasn’t angry. Petrified was more of a proper term to describe how she felt when the purple fire-storm that engulfed the entire block. The shockwave blasted herself and everything else flying. The inferno incinerated every building within a hundred meters regardless of material. Port and Taku also ate the blast's full force. They didn’t even have time to register what had they done to deserve this. … In the middle of the street on another side of the town, Rem felt the explosion. “Great job guys,” Rem leaned against an abandoned building and congratulated his absent friends. “The dragon will either be dead or severely injured at this point. I'm sure you guys will survive that blast. Now, it will be up to you Lux. Make us proud.” It was a rare moment that Rem smiled. … The explosion was over. Everything in the hundred-meter radius got reduced to ash, while all building outside of the hundred-meter proximity got flatten. Only the heavily injured dragon remained standing. The beast was dying where it stood. Its remaining wing hung torn, several scales stuck on it body broken and charred. However, it was the dragon's mouth that filed the most damage. The explosion ripped off the dragon’s lower jaw, while the fire torched its throat and lungs. River of steaming blood flowed from the nasty wound where its mouth should be. At this point, the dragon's tremendous vitality was the only thing keeping it alive. For once in its life, the beast truly felt tiny and small beneath the hand of mortality. Its experiences at the edge of death awakened its survival instincts. Instincts that was telling it that the pain wasn’t even close to over. Then it saw its next death god walking in the distance. An elf in black uniform featuring a small cape was holding a set of harpoons. She slowly put on white an eye-mask resembling the face of the death god. … Luxinna LatoriaLightning CaliberStat:Str: 275 [D]End: 375 [C]Mag: 550 [C]Wis: 320 [C]Dex: 550 [C] Skill ActiveStatic Glass [A]Animal Communication [B]Spear Mastery [C]Magic Control [B]Snipe [B] Passive Child of Thunder (SS)Sword's Grace [A]Hidden Potential [N/A]Natural Instinct [S] … Round 2’s result1)Rem still incapacitates.2) Cytortia and Scathach survived but missing.3) 27 out of 36 X-cution unit down.4) Millan's garrison force= completely scattered.5) Melody Solarmaria still in combat (>15% survival). Horizon Dawn won, but the only member standing is Luxinna Latoria.

The four members returned to their base much more somber compared to when they left. “He can’t be that bad,” Luxinna tried to light up the morale. “I mean Rem is on our side.” “Listen to me, forest-head,” Melody spoke grimly. “My entire continent works our slaves like a machine, but Martynov’s story about Rem is way creepier.” Cytortia looked at the demoness in confusion. “How is Rem worse than Hellgate?” “The Hellgate is a pit of sadism,” Melody conceded, recalling what Ebony told her. “However, even Hellgate have a special section for diplomatic prisoner, Rem don’t even pretend to care about courtesy of war.” Cytortia turned silent. In the Argentum War, Rem never granted the Cartel any luxury of knowledge. There were no formal declaration, only a letter of newspaper clippings, warning the Mexican to cease unsanctioned activity in America with approval of the Mafia commission. The Cartel ignored the warning, then the kidnapping and ransom demand occurred. The dispatched negotiation team only met an electronic speaker bringing the will of Samadi. The church the meeting held caught fire. The scrambling negotiator fled outside and met their missing comrades, delusionally laughing like mad-men. The devil ascended in the next twenty-four hours. Facilities got deconstructed. Explosion, fires, police raid, everything that should not crumble dematerialized. Key personal with sensitive secret vanished and reemerged mentally broken. Their bankers quit and the hit team sent to silence them returned in a straight-jacket. Politicians suddenly went mad and exposed for corruption. Testimonies carted away many of the Cartel’s top official. To add more insult to the decaying infrastructure, a long-suppressed dissenters rose and forced the Cartel to its knee. “At least in Hellgate, you get kept alive to suffer,” Melody narrated, as they reached the warehouse’s front-door. “Rem don’t keep prisoner. He sends them back to destroy you. Martynov said the Mexican Cartel only learn the Argentum’s identity after their boss announced his unconditional surrender on live TV. Jekyll Aztellic is dangerous, but Samadi is lethal.” Hikma sighed. “Guys, Martynov is exaggerating.” The French-Arab opened the door and instantly proven wrong. … A girl sat motionless in the middle of the warehouse. She looked spotless, pristine from her clothes to her flaming orange-hair. The four won’t notice any damage, if not for the eyes. They were dead. All light of resistance crushed so finely she was more like a breathing corpse than a full fledge human. “Chuang?” Cytortia trembled, seeing her senior sister destroyed beyond comprehension. “Cartia,” Chuang blinked deliriously. “No, you are Arwen, right? But which Arwen? I remember fifteen Arwen. Half of those Arwen always left. Another half died because of me. I feel worst about the later.” Chuang's pupils were like a wild animal—cornered, afraid, desperate and fearful.  “This is getting funny,” Chuang laughed. “Oh, there are four of you? I remember getting beat up by twice that number. Do me a favor and drug me first, okay? The gang rape is little better when I am delirious. Ha, ha, ha, ha—fucking marriage—those arseholes run the moment things sour. Then again, I used them, so I guess I am asking for chest-burster.” Chuang giggled madly. “You guys should have seen it!” Chuang gave a trembling, broken smile. “Sploosh! Blood everywhere. I died screaming. Ha. Ha. Ha. What an idiot. I promised Cena I will marry him when I was a kid, but no surprise, a backstabbing bitch like me got what I deserve. The saddest thing is he never left my side, so they tore him to pieces in front of me. The blood taste like caramel… I hate caramel.” Chuang slowly turned silent before throwing herself from the chair, worming toward the four like a caterpillar. “Please kill me!” Chuang cried, unable to stop smiling as she beseeched her four saviors for life’s last destination. “Chop me to piece! Dissolve my body! Hack my brain from my skull and burn it! I don’t care what you do! I don’t care how much it hurt! I don’t want to live anymore! Please end me already before he come back! You can use me however you want! But just keep him away from me!” Chuang brawled like a baby, stunning the four spectators into the orbit by sheer clusterfuck. “Oh. My. God,” Hikma barely believed this broken shell nearly killed him. “No,” Melody corrected him fearfully. “Hikma, this is solid proof no benevolent gods exist.” Cytortia lost her words. “Congratulation,” Luxinna Latoria watched Chuang curled into a ball. “You won the argument, Melody. Nothing is worse than Rem’s torture chamber.” A voice suddenly rang beside them. “Thanks for a vote of confidence, guys,” Rem was drinking a homemade milkshake. “You might think I am bull-shitting, but I will admit I screw up. Now, I understand what you want. Each of you get a punch, after—” BANG! Several things happened in that instant. Chuang saw Rem, screamed like she saw a giant man-eating cockroach with the face of her mother, then emptied everything in her anus and bladder. Hikma threw a feeble punch, which landed with a soft smack on Rem’s expressionless face. Hikma might be a great Arcanist, and an excellent defensive swordsman, but his hook was pathetic. However, Luxinna’s sucker-punch remained impressive as ever. Hikma landed the hit because Rem let him, but the elf didn’t need any permission. Her fist plowed into Rem’s abdomen and sent him crashing into the wall with enough force to crack the concrete. “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?” Lux yelled, pinning Rem to the wall by his throat. “A modified [Mentalism],” Rem’s pained answer was concise. “Incredible,” Melody concluded. Her brain functioned 135% better from raw horror. “You adapt [Mentalism] Arcane to interrogate her. But how can’t she recognize any of us.” “She can,” Rem corrected Melody. “But save from your truly, she can’t distinguish you from a hundred other version she remembered from the nightmares I put her through.” “Nightmares?” “Nothing major. Think of it like a hyper realistic dreams several lifetimes worth of tragedy long.” “Nightmares don’t do that to people!” “Orange juice don’t kill people until you overdose the citric acid,” Rem explained without a hint of shame. “One lifetime of those dreams and she will shrug it off as an illusion, but several hundred? Not to mention I refresh her memory on every loop, so the increasing fake memories slammed her all at once, every single time. At a certain point, fake will outnumber the real. Right now our goddess lost the ability to distinguish fantasy from reality.” Melody turned away from Rem, too stunned to respond. Hikma and Luxinna lost their words in their throat. They put themselves in Chuang’s position and came up with zero way to resist Rem. It was then they finally realized how unstoppably cruel Rem could be, and they immediately wanted to run away from that fact. Cytortia remained silent. She walked toward the sobbing Chuang, ignoring the liquid pooling on the concrete and the emerging foul stench. The goddess of wood knelt down and cradled the woman who torment her throughout her childhood, trying her best to give the fallen Heavenly Daughter some warmth. “Fix her,” Cytortia calmed the panicking Chuang down and whispered to the shattered goddess. “Don’t worry, everything will be okay.” Chuang sobbed and fully let go of the floodgate, wailing on Cytortia’s shoulder like she no longer had anything to lose. “Fix her?” Melody gasped, focusing her eyes anywhere but the demonic human who caused the carnage. “Cy, there is no fixing this. This is not like a broken washing machine and fried motherboard. Brain is a complex organ, and Rem flamethrowered all inches of its surfaces.” “No,” Cytortia threw a glare at Rem. “You won’t do anything that you can’t reverse. You can undo the damage, right? As your boss, I am ordering you to do it.” Rem sighed. “You got me,” Rem admitted. “I leave a backdoor behind. Even if that doesn’t work, sealing away all the false memories and reset her consciousness to what it was thirty minutes ago isn’t that hard.” “As expected, you are being an ass about everything,” Luxinna growled, but deep down she felt relieve. “Will it kill you to use a method that don’t involve maiming and death threat?” “You are assuming I will follow that order,” Rem said. “News flash, I don’t plan too.” Silence “Rem,” Hikma warned. “Enough is enough. This is against everything we fight for. I don’t want a fight, but you will fix her mind one-way or another.” Luxinna reacted by tightening her grasp on Rem’s windpipe. “Go ahead,” Rem calmly invited the violence. “But don’t you want to hear the reason I have to do this.” “Does it involve our safety?” Melody said tastelessly. “Thank you for the concern, but none of us need to stoop this low to stop her from ratting.” “Information leak concern contributes about 42%,” Rem admitted. “Another 58% is purely for her own sake.” “Excuse me?” Luxinna grimaced. “Are you telling me you mind-fuck people for their own sake? What about the Argentum War?” Rem didn’t entertain blinking. “So Martynov told you about my escapade with Antonio,” Rem concluded, tapping Luxinna in the arm. “Good for him. You must know eventually. Now would you begrudgingly allow me to breathe.” Luxinna hesitantly unpinned her arm. “Hikma can you please put Chuang to sleep. She already have enough for one day,” Rem asked. Hikma begrudging throw an [Conceptual Seal] at Chuang. The Arcane took effect and Chuang sank to slumber on Cytortia’s lap, purring like a kitten. Rem begun his explanation. “Making excuse for the Argentum War is pointless. The Mexican Cartel won’t back off and they had Mexico in their grasp for years. It already hard enough to persuade the commission to reinforce our sovereignty. I need a perfect victory and I don’t want any innocent to suffer in that war. This victory condition required me to pioneer psychological warfare and strategic strikes from the cover of anonymity to impair the Mexican. Martynov might forget to mention my strategy worked. Neither side suffered the loss of human life in the conflict.” “You killed none, but condemned hundreds to a mental hospital,” Hikma sternly replied. “I am not a god, Hikma,” Rem justified. “I can’t perform a miracle without a price. Do you realize the number of lives narcotics destroyed? In a certain perspective, asylum maybe too good for them. With the medical care in the market today, I guess they will be ready to rejoin the society soon and the trauma will make them think twice about narcotic trade.” “What about my sister?” Cytortia stared at Rem sternly. “What did she do to deserve this? And why don’t you fix her?” “That what I must know,” Melody added. “What make you defy Cytortia’s direct order?” “Because I want to save a soul.” Every eye turned toward Rem. “Rem, this is not saving people,” Luxinna’s voice was almost pleading. “We are above this kind of thing. How can you save people by breaking their will? Can’t you register how fuck-up evil is this? Please give us an actual explanation.” Rem gazed at the sky. “How do you balance saving a person happiness against their soul?” “What?” that question caught Luxinna by surprise. “You are making no sense,” Hikma whispered, barely understanding his friend anymore. But Melody got it. “You are playing a long game,” Melody theorized in a mixture of horror and fascination. “All the shit you put her through is an investment in Chuang Tianshang. You yanked her memory out with [Mentalism] and it convinced you to do this.” Rem nodded. The conversation veered in a disturbing direction for Luxinna. ”Why?” “An unmaterialized alternative caused by one Queen of Heaven's suck-ass mentorship,” Rem cursed. “Now, we need to clean her mess.” The entire room got knocked out of orbit save for Cytortia, who remembered a much kinder girl. “Rem, tell me. What did my teacher do to Chuang?” “More like what she failed to do,” Rem clarified. “Artio hit the ball off the park by advising you to left. I watched Chuang’s evolution into bitch we see today, and you can quote my word that Nu Wa failed at all conceivable metric as a mentor. The Heavenly Daughters—Chuang, LinLey, and even Tai Hua—reached your master's arms as a clay with potential. Through a combination of failing to understand basic humanity, intense internal competition, and an unhealthy amount of ego mismanagement, all of them emerged as a piece of work with too much firepower. Chuang’s case hit me pretty deeply, so I chow the risk and unbaked the bread.” “Unbaked the bread?” Melody questioned. “People rarely change once they set,” Rem explained. “Chuang’s formative years molded her into an omega bitch. The only way to reshape that stone is to convert it back to raw material, and recast it. But that would dishonor her as an individual, killing the Chuang we recognize and replacing her with a doll. I can’t have that. I want her to have an epiphany, and this mean pioneering an alternative design.” “Alternative design? Mind-fucking is a fashion trend now?” Luxinna looked at Rem like he just gone insane. “Partly,” Rem admitted. “An epiphany come from realization and experience. To understand one, Chuang must reflect on her action from another perspective and—by her own will—realize how far she sunk. This meant learning and repenting on her action from the bottom of her soul. It is why I need to put her into a nightmare loop. I need her to understand what she subject other people through.” “You use Mentalism to subject her to cycle of repeated nightmare, carving fear of death and despair for her to learn what it feel like to suffer under tyranny,” Hikma looked at Rem, and realized his inner wished. “You want to teach the sanctity of life, by making her experience the world where life isn’t sacred.” Melody and Luxinna growled, but Hikma’s verdict was enough to pacify them for now. Rem looked at Cytortia. “Your master’s failure—no—this world’s failure lies in failing to teach your senior sisters the value of life. While some people—like you, Cy—naturally value the beauty of life, most learn its sacredness from pain. Your senior sister never got that. Instead, they got the power to set life on fire and a zero inhibition.” “You make her experience what it like to lose her life.” Rem nodded dryly. “I understand what you are thinking. You think I went overboard. That I overdid it to the point she broke beyond recovery. Yes, I overestimate her mental fragility, but the next part of the plan is still intact. And I need your help for that.” “Wait! You want us to be your conspirator?” Luxinna gaped at the suggestion. “Fine,” Cytortia declared. “Cy, are you going along with this?” Luxinna questioned her friend. “We don’t have a choice,” Cytortia said. “Is the next part will make her better?” “Oh, you will like the next part,” Rem said. “In fact, I need you to contact Lancaster.” “Shyme?” Luxinna said. “You are dragging a 33 Stars into this.” “We need someone to protect Chuang because she will be powerless in the next part of the plan.” “What are you planning,” Melody interrogated Rem. “It doesn’t matter, Melody,” Cytortia ordered. “What matter now is getting Chuang back to her feet? And Rem, after this we need a re-org. I cannot have you do this kind of thing without our permission.” “Yes, my lady,” Rem smiled. It took a long time, but the bread called the Heavenly Daughter of Wood was finally coming out of the oven.

A week ago 'There is only one way for you to wield your unstable magic,' said the girl with the multicolor hair. 'But you must understand the true essence of Mana and Magic.' Rem looked at the girl as the wind blew by melancholically. 'Magic is like a seed in your heart. Your world view and experience nourish that seed and define its development. Using that description, Mana is the sunlight germinating and growing the tree of Magic. Abilities and skills would be the animals relying on that tree as its habitat. This relationship is the secret to the power of the multiverse. Rem, your ecosystem have mutated due to your emotional instability and created unstable energy that couldn't activate [Arrival of Dream]. To activate your abilities, you must get power directly from the sun.' "You mean Mana, " Rem replied soberly. 'No, Mana is the sunlight. What I mean is that you have to access the star itself.' The girl spread her hand and conjured the image of the cosmos. 'Every mana originated from the Center Force, the power of just, and Malice, the entirely of depravity. Every world-view--no matter how uncanny--lies between the two. Their continual grinding creates Mana and replenishes the flow of the great stream.' The girl looked at Rem. 'Oh my master, if you desire power, the sun of the Center Force welcomes your contract as the queen's champions. However, even her majesty lack the experience needs to save you from our ultimate price.' The girl's eyes glowed. 'Center Force is ancient and brutal. Before the queen's time, we are the heavenly punishment of the wick. We are the executioner of justice, governor of the law of karma in the name of the greater good. There is no redemption for evil in our eyes. We have no time for such mercy n this holy war. If the sacrifice has to be made to uphold justice, then it must be done. Now, do you know what a contract with us entitles?' Rem nodded. To use his power, he had to become their serf. ... 'In a decade, things might change under our queen's new policy, but for now, even she can't curb Center Force's brutality,' said the girl, looking at the portal of light glaring before them. Rem looked into the cruel glow. He shouldn't find this strange. For most of its life, good is an interchangeable concept dictated by the victor. Base on this, the Pre-Satholia Center-force would be a vicious power to punish evil and discourage wickedness. It was only when humanity and mercy got added to the action that good and justice ceased to be an excuse for slaughter. "When I make contact with that thing, I will become its slave, right?" The girl nodded. 'The encroachment will happen slowly,' the girl shuddered. 'You will gradually lose your self-control and humanity as the Center Force consumes you. Moreover, the Center Force will continuously attempt to hijack your body for the elimination of evil. Even death won't release you from this contract. You will spend all of the eternities as an unfeeling tool to preserve the Center Force's justice. There will be no peace or closure for you ever again." "So it is becoming a war-slave for eternity, " Rem resolutely closed his eyes. "Do I have a chance to cheat the contract?" 'Unlikely, no miracle that can null the contract exist,' the girl shook her head before giving a tired smile. 'But again, even the Center Force did not predict her highness's ascension. All-mighty doesn't translate to all-knowing.' Rem nodded, silently making his resolve and marched forward with his eyes closed. He was afraid, but if he did nothing, death would be inevitable. That would be an absolute defeat, and he would never accept defeat. Rem blindly walked into the light and touched the radiance. It was a gamble staking 100% chance of death for two innocent girls against 99.99% prospect for a fate worse than demise for himself. Rem made resolved, but still, he was disappointed.  Unlike Superman, mere humans like him didn't have the power to fix things in the blink of an eye. Instead, what he got is a convoluted path up the hill. Rem made his resolve. The black sky of that world shattered, bathed in a clash of inhuman power against the grim determination of humanity. It was doing the right no matter what the cost--not the power--that was the proof of a hero. 'It will be an honor to serve you, Knight of Satholia,' the girl knelt.  'I-- Central--deemed Sir Remus Breaker as our commander worthy of his station. Every agent of Center Force is yours to command.' ... From Cytortia's perspective, Rem was standing powerlessly in front of the charging army. A tide of massive, brutal beasts surrounded them. The imminent ending was bleak and inevitable. Then something changed. A light of dreams came torn that destiny asunder. The magical glow shone in a column, creating a lighthouse of hope in that see inevitability. Cytortia felt the boy running to meet the small army. She felt great sadness from him, but also an undefeatable determination. Sandstorm curled around the boy. A strand of white tainted his bark-color hair. Cytortia even caught a glimpse of multicolor sunlight radiating from him. It almost reminded her of Tai Hua, but this wasn't just a display of might. An awe-inspiring embedded into the light. It was something no raw power could replicate. In that light, she saw a painting of sort. A girl who gave up hope and a caped man convincing her everything will be okay. Cytortia frowned. That man must be a deity, but since when did a god radiate maturely. Before she knew what was happening, the corrupted hoard charged at Rem only to meet a wall of sand. The sand swiped, drying the monster into desiccated corpses. Some unlucky beasts experienced got sanded down into skeletons. Even the tentacle sneaking from the toxic pond couldn't escape being mummified by Rem's sand. Cytortia gaped. How could this be real? Every step Rem took turned national threats into piles of dust. The bureaucrat in the Grand Empire would have a heart attack when they saw how Rem managed to outdo their two billion credit budget. Then Cytortia got it. In previous cases of Paracis Corrupter's arrival, it had taken root in the spring. Rem concluded that the World Enemy was an extremely Hydrophilic plant; an arid condition would likely be lethal to it. The goddess's eyes lit up. There was another exploitable weakness: the Paracis's reliance on natural Mana.  Cytortia crouched down, using her abilities as a nature goddess a way she never did. The goddess stretched her power under the ground and tried to find any part of the waterfall that remains free from the Paracis's control. She found something, but it was as small as a bean. Cytortia gritted her teeth. With all the effort she could muster, the girl reached into the reservoir and built the resistance into a bonfire. On the waterfall, the Paracis Corrupter painfully jerked. Inside the monster, the horde Natural Mana went out of control as Cytortia stoke it up and disabled the Paracis's function. The table started turning as the crippled hive-mind started dragging the army down. Combined the management crises with the sandstorm mowing down like weed, and it wouldn't surprise the massive army was now barely a shadow of what once was. As for Luxinna, she managed to resist the sandstorm by ionizing the air with her lightning. However, the magically charged kick in the face from Rem sent her back where she started. By then, it was already too late for the World Enemy. Using 7-days of intense training and absolute elemental advantage, Rem destroyed a total of 115 corrupted monsters. It was a fight that barely took two minutes for the victor to stand clear. In the end, only the corrupted Luxinna remained standing as a final opponent. The Paracis cried as its death's bell started to ring. ... Rem was winning, but he was also out of time. His body was exhausted. A part of him pulled too much energy. Energies he couldn't afford to channel, and now every muscle in his body lodged a complaint letter in the form of crippling pain.  'My lord, you are hitting your magical limit,' Central chimed in his head. 'Your magic will go into overheat if you continue... moreover.' DIEEEEEEE! Rem blurring eyes widened. What the heck is that? 'This will explain it better.' A piece of information flashed through Rem's head. [Desolate Blade Rank: B Ability:  Sand-Mastery [S] Dehydration [A] Sand-Storm Protection [B] ???? Demerit: Demonic Erosion [A] Origin: Legend of Asthur Info: The Desolater Blade was created by the hero-king of Asthur, Ar'muskur, using one of the three beasts of the Ruined continent—the Beast of Sand. Despite killing it and sealing it's damaged soul into this blade, the demonic nature of the Beast remained ready to turn against its bearer.] Rem glared at the yellow, jeweled encrusted dagger accusingly. Who the hell put it there? Who the heck tagged a demonic entity into the weapon he was using? 'You created this blade, my lord,' Central replied painfully. 'Six years ago, you thought it would be cool if your hero used a demonic sword just like in the cartoon you watched.' Rem cursed. His eighth-grade syndrome came to screw him at the worst moment. 'Truth to be told, this is a blessing in disguise,' the exasperated voice of Central continued. 'While the erosion hampered your physical and mental vitality, it also lowered the Desolator Blade from [A] to [B] rank, allowing you to use it without dying from the recoil.' Rem suddenly remembered his weapon's anti-army function. Could he use that to cheese this fight? 'Do you want to die?' Central uncharacteristically roared. 'Ya think ya can open fire with Anti-army attack at your pitiful power-level? You only have a [E] rank [Territory Creation]! That's the only one-meter range, you fool!' One-meter range, Rem's heart sank. At this point, Rem was ready to believe the universe had a betting pool reserved for his head. The berserked Luxinna let out a tremendous roared and launched her lightning-clad tentacles at Rem. The barrier of sandstorms received the truck slamming into a brick wall. Rem gritted his teeth, but that previous two-minutes cost him too much. His eyes started to blur as his footsteps turned sloppy. Numbness invaded his body like a hammer cracking a nut. Worst of all was the pain from overexerting his power. It felt like someone was dipping his nerves in molten salt. Luxinna's lightning broke Rem's defense a split second later and sent him sprawling. The deflected tentacles fiercely struck a tree nearby and lighted it on fires. In that orange glow, one thought shone across Rem's mind. He needs an opening. No matter what, the cure still sparkled in his hand like the hope for victory. Rem got up as Luxinna launched another tentacle. He mistimed his dodging maneuver and got electricity coursing through his body. Luckily, he inched back enough to avoid the worse of the attack, but he still felt the sharp pain and sticky sensation shimmering across his chest. The corrupted elf sensed the opportunity and acted on it. She pounced toward Rem like a tiger. It was a fast and ferocious attack that could qualify as a finishing blow.  Rem was disappointed. Had she retained her sanity and her mastery with the blade, his half-dead self wouldn't have a chance. The corrupted Luxinna didn't have any of those things. She was powerful but lacked grace and technique she originally had. She was faster but also more readable. Rem clenched his teeth and wrapped the sandstorm around his short sword. Waves of sand interwove to create one-meter long chainsaw of desert and wind. With his muscle enchanted with his Magic, he swung the [Desolator Blade] up in a cross-counter. In the background, the tug-of-war between the Paracis and Cytortia continued. Both sides looked at their respective champions with expectation. Meanwhile, flames began spreading from tree to tree, covering the battlefield in a ring of fire. They clashed. Although Luxinna was much stronger than Rem, his sword helped remedy that with greater reach. This fact was especially valid when she was caught wide opened in an all-out leaped. The blade of sand landed a firm cut. Blood spurted from the wound, followed by a massive cry of pain. The elf was blasted backward and smashed down hard from the force.  However, the ordeal was not over. The corrupted Luxinna got up--her blistered skin and tentacles were healing itself. With a growl, she threw another desperate bolt at Rem, but the sandstorm-blade parried that blast successfully.  Unlike his previous defense, Rem focused all his defensive capability into a thin blade, raising its deflection ability to the point it could deflect the enhanced lightning. Rem huffed. He was still at a disadvantage. Up the waterfall, the Paracis's main body started recovering from Cytortia's hacking. The flowery maw opened up, revealing a gaping hole that sprouted out a swarm of tentacles. The boy grimaced. They were in a deep end. They need a way to take get inside Luxinna's offense range and then killed the corrupter. Rem sighed tiredly. For once in his life, he was out of the idea. 'Rem, you still need to answer me for today's debacle. You aren't allowed to give up this easily, young man.' Rem perked up. He knew that voice. Unlike the previous time he heard it, the current tone was more disapproving. 'Your majesty?' Central panicked. 'How can you be here?' 'Blame your master's idiotic action. Rem, my dear, I am pleased with your dedication, but this self-sacrifice is overboard. We need to talk over this later. But, for now, you must splash the poor girl with Cytortia's cure then stabs her with your weapon.' That was the plan? Should it be that simple? 'We must establish a connection. Luxinna's mental state is too fragile for me to directly force my way in. We are lucky your Magic got linked with the Center Force. If you manage to connect your Magic into her body, I might be able to communicate with her and deal the finishing blow.' Rem gritted his teeth. Assurance slowly replaced the desperation in his eyes. Nothing motivated a person like hope.

Two men reached the door. It took them fifteen minutes to secure this very moment. Knockout guards, captured of hostages and headache over-excited men — all for this very moment. Marley stood before the control room’s gate. Their destination — the Stabilization Core and its Control Chamber—was a mere foot away. … Twelve terrorists gathered the hostages in the VIP room. The helpless crowd cowered in terror as the jovial extremists lorded over them. A young boy lost control of himself and cried. “Shut the kid up!” One terrorist shouted. The mother quickly covered her son’s mouth. “How long we have to wait here?” A man said in annoyance, counting the money he looted from one passenger. “Dammit, I am not getting paid enough for this?” “Stop!” The elderly passenger tried to wrestle his money back. “You don’t understand. That loan was for…” “Shut up!” Another terrorist booted the man’s head. “You act like you honestly earn this. Don’t make me laugh. You probably extorted someone for quick cash or sold a scam to the sheep like those Aurorin bastard. This money belongs to folks who worked for it.” More kicks followed. The man silently wept, watching the dream of fifty years disappearing into a pocket of a criminal. He was a grasp away from his dream. How could it have ended like this? He only hoped to fulfill his late mother’s dream to open a cafe and shared her hospitality food with everyone. The man gritted his teeth. How could such cruelty claimed a title freedom and justice? “Yeah, guys come on let give the cheater what he deserves,” Another terrorist joined in and punted the man in the stomach, forcing him to cough up blood. Witnessing an old man failing to fight back, other terrorists followed the example and savagely beat him up. The other passenger averted their eyes, too powerless to stop the tragedy. The boy stifled his tears in fear. Even during a merciless beating, the old man kept watching his lifework being stolen. He wanted to pray, but he knew it was useless. No selfish gods answered the prayer of the man with nothing to offer. Then again, gods were not Superman. … Marley opened the door. He didn’t reach the Stabilization Core. No. What he received was a punishment from heaven. The glass case housing the Stabilization Core was empty. Marley stared. His brain blinked rapidly, trying to come up with an explanation. Short-circuited logic devoiced his head in that critical second. Beside him, the mass of muscle named Bruno spoke the question he failed to answer. “Where is it?” Marley got zero answer to deliver. Is this a trap? Had Aurorin’s spy discovered them and moved the Core? No, that was not possible. If that happened, they would be dead. Forget boarding the train. Even leaving the station would be a pipe-dream. What was happening? The answer crawled out of the shadow. Marley and Bruno readied their weapon, but the moment the creature entered the light, they almost dropped their equipment. She was an elf and a beautiful specimen to boot. She had charcoal-black hair, dainty pointed ears, and a pair of beautiful sky-blue eyes welling with tears. Aside from her elf’s trait and the Octopus wrapping around her legs, the girl could easily pass as a regular harmless teenager. The elf noticed them. Her eyes swelled with gratitude and she wailed. “Thank god,” she leapt at Marley’s leg and hugged for dear life. “Help me, please! The conductor said he will sell me to a rich man for money! He also threatened to eat my pet!” Bruno stared at the octopus, then the elf, and the octopus. “An octopus?” Bruno said. “When did an elf pick an octopus as their pet? Where is the owl? The Tiger? What about the eagle?” “Help!” The elf squeezed out more tears and grabbed Marley’s leg, immobilizing it as she wept with all her might. “The big scary man will eat me. Help me, mister.” She inched away from Bruno like he’s a plague and hid behind Marley’s leg, much to the giant’s chagrin. That was the moment chaos ensued. ... Hyper-channel had two VIP-suits that got taken hostages by the Liberator. A door to one of them slid open. “What the hell,” several terrorists gasped in shock. Spells and weapons flew into readiness. Sadly, that preparation was as useful as blocking explosive with tissue paper. None among them had an idea about the bizarreness landing on them with a force of a falling bathtub. A honey badger wearing a ‘Make Fantasy Great Again’ cap was looking right at them with murder in her eyes. “Who are you? Identify yourself!?” One of the terrorist leaders shouted. But the badger already disappeared. A paw, packing a surprising amount of force, connected with a Liberator’s cheek. The kick knocked out two of his teeth and propelled him toward another end of the carriage. He somersaulted twice, face-planting the ground two times before slamming into another end of the carriage. The unlucky terrorist twitched twice and fell to the ground like a defeated cockroach. The assault continued before anyone registered what hit them. Spear’s shaft a man never saw coming smashed his nose. Simultaneously, another man got slashed by a spear-head he registered but failed to dodge. With three members going down in an instant, the other Liberator’s member mobilized their counters. One woman lunged at Scathach with a sword. The badger nimbly leaped out of the way and threw one spear toward the man who reached for the screaming hostage. The badger landed on the arm attacking her. Without a pause, Scathach climbed said limb and punted its owner in the face. Two more threat disappeared in a flash. Scathach somersaulted across the air in a brown blurred, landing on another terrorist face and slamming him down to the floor. Her furious attacks continued without a pause. She spin-kicked one more terrorist to submission before bullet jumping to take out more victims. One man screamed in panic, firing a series of binding spells to stop the tiny war-machine. Scathach easily weaved through those blasts, crippled his shin, and finished the fight with an uppercut. “No, no, no,” a Liberator, watched his friend dropped to the ground. “G-Get away from me!” He dropped his weapon and ran. The man didn’t go far. The honey badger scampered along the wall, pulled out her spear from a victim shivering in shock and threw it at a fleeing man. The spear skewer into the man’s knee, forcing him down with a painful howl. Scathach heard the clattering of a sword. “Wait!” Said the final Liberator’s member, holding her hand high. “I surrender! Don’t hurt me.” Scathach produced a rope and grinned sadistically. Result: 9 Liberator’s member down, 1 Surrender, Time took: 3 seconds. … “Hey, everyone tonight dinner is on me.” One terrorist threw the money into the air and let it rain. The old man’s eyes were empty. The future he dreamt of mercilessly crushed before it had even begun. Justice was dead without a doubt. The boy stifled his tears and tugged into his mother’s chest. He couldn’t bear to see this. The world was cruel. A place where dogs ate dogs. But he denied that. The childlike mind refused to accept this future await him. At that instant, he wished the bad men away. No gods will answer their prayer. Fortunately for them, it wasn’t a god that arrived. The entrance began when an elbow shattered the window. A black object flung into the room before anyone responded. In one moment, all people — both hostages and terrorists — froze. The black object, a smoke bomb, exploded. “What the hell is happening?” “I can’t see—“ One terrorist tripped and slammed into the floor, nose first. “This is an attack!” A bold voice yelled. “Gather up and disperse the smo—.” Bang! Bang! Bang! A gunshot resounded. He never completed the order. Utter panic resumed. “Contact Commander Marley!” One man tried to take the lead. Bang! The bullet shattered another window and hit the shouting man’s kneecap. The man fell in a bloody scream. The message was obvious: take the lead at your peril. Bang! Bang! Two shot resounded. The first bullet shattered a communicator. The second shot embedded itself into the holder’s solar plexus with enough force to send him crashing into the wall. The Liberator shivered. They couldn’t see anything, but they felt it. The unseen terror. Fear of the unknown gripped their heart like death’s skeletal hand. None of them dared to utter another word to displease this mysterious enemy. In the middle of darkness, the boy trembled. Tears welled in his eyes, but deep down, he knew he would remember this moment for the rest of his life. The elderly man understood that too, so he observed. Instinctively, he knew where the guardian angel would arrive. Clash! Another window broke apart right next to one horrified terrorist. A pair of boot slammed into his face, sending him crashing into the wall. The man wasn’t out yet, hence a foot smashed his face into dreamland. As the sunlight filtered in and the smoke escaped through the shattered window, the Liberator finally saw their enemy. Many of them would reflect to this cruel moment and re-think their life choice. Most had nightmares for years afterward. From the floor, the old man glanced at his savior. That very sight brought tears into his eyes. Everything would be okay. Meanwhile, the boy looked at the figure in black with wonder. He had seen a soldier, but none of them looked like this one. What the man wore resembled a festival costume more than the armor and uniform of a soldier. But somehow, looking at that provoke a kind of wonder the boy never experience. Most would call this an eighth-grade syndrome. Frame by the sunlight and black smoke was a man wrapped in black combat gear and a voluminous black cloak. He was wearing a white-mask and fedora concealing his face. The masked man knelt on the body of the terrorist he had handily defeated, as if he was praying to a celestial goddess of war. The ominous red-visor scanned the Liberator, uttering no words. The hero rose to meet the gang. His power surged, sending everyone’s hair standing from animalistic fear. “So cool,” the boy muttered. His eyes widened. ... Every fight was like a puzzle. That was Rem’s tenet. A problem would always a question. How to beat an overconfident badger in a game of monopoly? How to disable interdimensional parasite? The question change, but the game remained. The current problem was simple but troublesome. How could he eliminate eight well-armed and possibly well-train personal in a cramped space of the train carriage without harming the hostages? Answer: surprise, theatrics, and raw terror. That was the plan Rem devised. Speed was the key. That was why Rem supercharged his body with magic and strode toward his enemies at superhuman speed, smashing the toppled terrorist for good measure as he entered the fray. “Oh sh-“ Crack! One more down. “Awesome!” The boy watched his hero turned into the blurred, ran over a bad-guy and left trails of smoke where he moved. The boy and his mother saw the man in black rushed to meet a villain, lifting him in a choke-hold. The bad-guy knifed fell to the floor, too slow to connect to the hero. The Liberator crawled at Rem’s arms, terrified by the blank white-mask. But Rem had a plan for him. Attacks were coming, and he needs a meat-shield. “Fire everything!” A panic man yelled. “Fires everything!” “Get away from me.” Another man launched a fireball at the cloaked figure. “Called Marley! Or we are doom!” The old man saw six bullet-casings clattered on the floor like the death god’s decree. His savior was using his tormentor's body to absorb barrage of attacks. It was merciless. The terrorist got reduce into a bag of crying, burnt bruise in a minute. Then the man in black disappeared with his captive. The old man heard a grunt, before a terrorist fell next to him like a broken doll. The boy’s mother was seriously concerned. Her son was glued to the fight and cheering like crazy? Would he copy this? She needs to tell him it was not right to attack someone in the throat and headbutt people to submission. Then she remembered the last ten minutes and started cheering. Those bastards deserved everything they were getting. A door slid opened and the blonde goddess sneaked into the room to fix the problem. She sighed in relief. The terrorist was too busy trying to survive than gunning for the hostage. This made her job a lot simplers. Meanwhile, Rem threw the meat-shield at the terrorist with superstrength and tossed in another smoke bomb for good measure. He whipped out his Silver Silhouette magnum and reloaded it with his magically augmented speed. With a gun on his left and throwing knives in his right, he let loose. Two bullets punched through the man. Throwing knives met its mark on a Liberator’s face, causing her to claw in pain. Being a kind and generous soul, Rem delivered an uppercut to end the woman’s suffering. Following that, he landed a punch in the jaw and a bullet at a kneecap to end another criminal’s career. The last man standing stumbled out of the smoke with his Senpai body smashing into the wall behind him. His only solution was forking out cashes. “Here! Take this,” he trembled. “You want it, right? Take it and forgiv — ack!” Rem took the stacks of credit after booting the man’s mouth so hard he lost half his teeth. He tossed the note behind him. “You are missing these” “Thanks,” said the goddess, gathering the notes on the floor and putting them back in a bag. Next to her sat an old man who was visibly healing from his wound. The young goddess handed the bag containing all the money to the elderly man. “Here grandpa,” said an innocent voice. “It is yours, isn’t it? I am not certain, but I think I got all of it.” The goddess stood up, and together with the man in black, she started leaving. “Mister,” the boy ran toward Rem excitedly before his mother can stop him. Rem looked at the grinning boy. “Thank you for everything! Please told me how do I become strong like you?” In a rare moment, a drop of feeling bled from that fossilize heart. “Be kind,” Rem tousled the boy’s head kindly and replied in a garbled voice. “Be a good boy and never give up. Most of all do the right thing, no matter how hard.” The old man watches both of them leave, and that was when he decided the name of his new café. “The Unsung Hero,” the old man whispered, already coming up with a logo. Result: 12 men downed, no survivor. 7 ended up with PTSD. One quit Liberator afterward to become a cameraman. Time taken: 2 minutes.

“So those weirdos in black are right,” Emily summarized brief explanation by Mamacia Cocogar. “Alcra Shaxter created an artificial entity with processing ability far surpass anything in Phantasia. And it lured us here.” “But why?” Artos Sevar asked. That was the state the 33 Stars was left in after Hikma descent into the lab “Why don’t we ask him?” Serina pointed to the hole, and without waiting for anyone, she jumped down. … The ragtag misfit of 33 Stars followed Serina down the rabbit hole and gazed upon the conclusion of this incident. Crowds of freed survivors of all races and stations nursed their wound, gawking in disbelief at the object in the middle of the room. It was a giant orb of transparent ice stretching from the ground to the ceiling, coating the up and down of the room in a thin layer of frost. Magnolia and Emily — the spell-casting specialist — looked at the complex seal of ice and cold. There was no evidence of magical language in this spell. Instead, the orb of ice was like a natural phenomenon created by carving an intent on fabric reality. The surrounding space contorted with cold in form of an orb that seal an enemy inside the prison of eternal ice. Its structure reminded them of natural magical marvel of nature and circumstance rather than a product of mortal mage. Hikma stood far away from the crowd, reflecting on the corpses of people he failed to save. Amitate walked toward the knight in black stoically confessing his failure in front of Salazar Aztellic mutilated corpse. And for once, the demon displayed the trait beside rampant arrogance. “Dude,” Amitate looked at Hikma with a new understanding. “That bastard betrays all of us this is what he deserves. There is no use crying over that scumbag.” “I know.” Serina joined them after regathering her subordinate scattered among the survivors. “What is happening here? This isn’t average death trap.” Before Hikma could explain, the room shook. Hikma’s eyes widened in panic as Rem rang the telepathic emergency bell. “The base is about the collapse. Everyone gather right now!” [Paradiso] … The center of the underwater facility that was the home of PALISADE’s operation, the control room where all the hell started, got its roof blasted off with Rem at its epicenter. PALISADE exploded the entire space in its take-off, blasting Rem into the steel wall. The warped space would severely injure any unprepared A-ranker, but Rem’s [Aura] allowed him to get out relatively unscathed. Rem’s groggy vision registered the rouge AI blowing a massive crater through the roof and demolishing the underwater dome. The Paladin of Dawn stared, suspended in disbelief, for a mere second as his brain assembled the alarming string of facts. Dome went bye-bye + Roof got wrecked= Nothing stopping the ocean. Rem leapt to his feet and connected himself to the entire universal force with [Tenshou]. He threw his hand up to stall the unstoppable waterfall powered by the oceanic pressure and gravity, while sounding alarms through his telepathic hotline. PALISADE went lose. I repeat! PALISADE escapes. The aquarium dome has collapsed. Secure the civilian and protect the base life-support by any means necessary. I will try to delay the ocean. Rem funneled the raw infinite power to hold back countless cubic meter of water crashing down in the unprotected base. PALISADE pretty shaved most of the layer of roofs that could protect against the downpour. How much area was exposed again? Probably around the diameter of 3 football field put together. Given the math, that equated to area 70000-meter square — roughly the area of 560 Olympic swimming pool. “Why the hell is this so heavy?” Rem gritted his teeth and held on to dear life as his cells and organ protested the overheating they were put through. His eyes blurred his. The knee beneath him buckled as blood rushed to his head. Raw willpower was the only thing that supported him, but Remus Breaker refused to fail without offering his all. Rem’s brain didn’t have time for math, but with he was pretty good at it. If Rem weren’t crushed by the ocean, it would take him about half a minute to work out that he is being crashed by 1400000 cubic meters of water, which accounting water density, weighing in around about 1.4 megaton. To give an image that was roughly 7630 Jumbo jets. A-rank or not, Rem won’t by moving thousands of Jumbo jets soon. The best he managed was delaying the inevitable. … Cytortia heard the alarm bells, but she knew her job would be more complicate than Hikma. Soon the entire ocean would flood the base, she doubted Rem could hold back the ocean for long, which mean she needed to hurry. Cytortia jumped from her workstation, loaded up every EMP grenade she made, and sped into the entrance of Ehto’s hideout. She stared into the flames of waiting inferno and cast the strongest defense she could. Ehto needed every bit of power to move them out of the ocean, so Cytortia must do everything in her power to ensure the thermal reactor powering the entire base didn’t snuff out. … The sea halted for a brief second, but soon accelerated downward. Droplet of water rained down onto the facility a moment later. Soon the drizzling rain became a downpour. A minute past the gurgling masses of liquid splashed upon the ground. Titanic volume of water slipped at the two-minutes mark before the soaking wet Rem caught it again. His teeth ground from the immense strain, but catching that slip took all his remaining tolerance points, leaving the raw force of stubbornness to hold for exactly 30 seconds. 2 minutes and thirty-seconds was all the time Rem could buy for his allies to get ready. The last thing Rem feels was a wall of furious tide hammering every part of his body. … Water flooded the top half of the base in a second, but Ehto Shaxter wasn’t spending the hard-earn time Rem bought idling. Emergency thruster activated over the base to bring the underwater facility to the air, but PALISADE’s exit damaged the base structure significantly. And let be real, PALISADE wasn’t the type who invest into maintenance more than necessary , the base was suffering from degradation and Luxinna’s rampage left it in an incredibly fragile position. Torrent of water crashed into Hikma's barrier. Meanwhile, a small portion of sea slammed upon Cytortia’s shield. Rem ate the fist the tidal wave a full brain ratttling force. Through all its miracles, the metal structure broke the ocean surface before they snapped into pieces of floating metal wreckage in one thundering chorus. … In the sky, squares of darkness leading to the void opened around a cyan orb. From them various contraptions emerged, cladding the orb in a shell of metal. More geometric forged machinery began sliding into place. Gears and pistons whirled, as technological advances clicked into place. Assortment of weaponry booted online as daimond shaped core of hardware finished assembling. Metal rail lined with Mana crystal slid from the hidden compartment and extended to form two layers of concentric rings. It was the true combat-ready form of PALISADE, as Alcra designed. A fully-armed global satellite capable of securing and commandeering the entire Phantasia. It was around 50 meters in size, which was positively puny compared to what the Horizon Dawn took down, but PALISADE’s brute size wasn’t its strong suit. “What the hell is that?” Luxinna yelled, looking at the mechanical juggernaut “Lux, I don’t think it is friendly,” said the dead-exhausted Melody. Several plating of PALISADE’s diamond core slip opened and cyan-color Mana-laser with homing capability continuously poured out from the beehive of firing cylinder. The two knights witnessed countless laser beam falling on them like a downpour. “Fuck me,” Melody groaned. Luxinna said nothing as she pushed her frenemies behind her and threw a [Guard Flora] as an umbrella against the carnage. Explosion bombarded the ocean. The elf gritted her teeth as the flood of power sent towers of water and steam flying around her. She caught sight of the blasted machine open its central canon and fired what was effectively an orbital canon right at her face. The thick of energy massive enough to cover Luxinna’s entire field of viw and shaved out mountain in a single shot swallowed the duo and vaporized the ocean behind them. … Every was dark. The emergency light went out a moment before the base began its ascend. Sound of waves and trickled water periodically echoed across the room. [Aegis] A disk of [Conceptual Seal] glowing with light emerged from Hikma's hand, allowing him to survey the room. No major injury so far. “What is happening?” Mamacia Cocogar asked. “Yeah.” A newly rescued stranger yelled. “What the hell is this place can anyone explain to me what is going on.” “How did we arrive here!?” said previous stranger drinking buddy. “What the hell did those creepy robots want with us.” Hikma was briefed.  “Long story short: you guys are lured into a trap created by a hyperintelligent pseudo-astral supercomputer who plans to create a super army using your DNA to invade Phantasia. We reversed the situation, and removed its control from this facility, but it won’t go down that easily. If no one got more question, I need to finish the job. You guys stay here and try to stay alive.” “No fucking way,” Sorin Enma yelled. “No one plan to make me a lab rat and get away with. Where the hell is the AI!?” “Probably right outside,” Hikma used [Holy Lorde] and blew a tunnel leading to the sun. “But seriously, try to hide and don’t drown. I can’t guarantee your safety.” “Like hell, just how bad this stupid AI is going to be.” It was then the glow of cyan light soaked the room. Hikma’s eyes widened. PALISADE sure wasn’t wasting time. “We are under attack!” [Paradiso] Hikma strengthened the surrounding barrier. [Aqua Genesis] Current of water wrapped around them as a pseudo protective shell. To add a finishing touch, Hikma threw his [Trinity] out as a barricade. Despite his defense, the orbital laser worth of power engulfed him anyway. … For Magnolia, the event leading to her present was those of confusion. She had been tested and humbled against a merciless threat she wasn’t prepared to handle. Then she witnessed the revelation of the mage who surpassed her utterly. To make it worse, such a powerful figure was a true believer in the ideal she deemed irreverent before the result. Finishing this humiliation, the worst day in her life turned to be a trap concocted by a glorified calculator. Magnolia’s heart almost collapsed as she swam to a nearby flaming wreckage. The previous overwhelming attack carve the base in two and threw the staggering survivors to the cold ocean — barely surviving by finding on pieces of floating debrises. To make it worst the image of their opponent was clear to see. A massive machine floated in the sky like a second sun. Its geometrical body shielded by mesmerizing rotation of concentric rings. The cyan core glowed like the eye of a cyclopean hunger as it scanned the crowds. Magnolia felt the fight being sapped out of her. Beside her, the soaked Emily Aztellic was uncharacteristically nursing the unconscious Aryssa they dragged from the water. It was funny how immediate threat united arch-enemies. “How do we beat this?” said Emily. “I don’t think we can,” answered the despairing Magnolia. The cyan gazed glowed. “Emily,” Magnolia stifled a deluge of tear. “I don’t want to die.” “Me neither.” The cyan light turn into a blinding glowed to usher death. But as the moment, the fight and hope of the shambling masses hit the rock bottom flames an arrow of crimson metal storm homed into PALISADE with enough force to rock it, but despite the titanic hit she failed to do anything. All eyes turned toward the tattered vampire. Her veil was gone, revealing a face of beautiful marred by crimson vein across her skin. But those crimson eyes weren’t  running out of the fight. “What the hell are you doing?” Serina yelled. “Get up! If we are going to die, then fight to the last breath. Where the hell did you shelve your dignity?” Next to Joshua drew his knife and wondered what could he do with it. Yurica was getting up on her knee despite trembling by in boot. One by one, fighting spirit returned. People picked up their weapons and amassed their Mana for the final stand. They knew the gesture was pointless. However, even beauty existed in such pointless thing. PALISADE witnessed the insignificant defiance and fired another orbital cannon. Everyone stated throwing down defensive barrier. A wall of blood-color steel, Screen of lightning, wind walls, curtain of water and fire—even together they all positive puny compared to PALISADE’s Mana scrambling laser fueled by countless micro-Mana reactors that together rivaled the power of an S-ranker. The result was given. Even if the hundred survivors poured their strength together, the AI's superior weapon and efficiency would defeat them all. The mathematical superiority should be obvious, but despite its advantage. The defender halted that enormous attack. Some unexplainable strength surged into their bone. It was a feeling of home, where no misery could take place. The land of warmth and life took a hold of battlefield and granted the exhausted band of former competitor the strength they needed to repel the attack. Magnolia felt the injection uplifting scent that slowly erased every ache and filling her near depleted Mana pool. Even her damp clothing was drying itself. A quick glance at Emily confirmed that this wasn’t an isolated incident. “Is you Mana…” “Yes,” the demoness gaped. “I can’t believe it. Whatever this is, it made every Mana potion in the world a walking joke.” “Yeah!” A newly revitalized Amitate leapt to the top of the largest wreckage a challenge PALISADE. “Okay, you piece of junk. What else do you get!” It was then they heard a voice they won’t forget. “YOU MORON! GET DOWN AND STOP TEMPTING FATE! ALL THE INJURED QUE UP HERE. ANYONE THAT CAN MOVE, HELP ME COORDINATE THE DEFENCE! I WILL LAY THE ENCAMPMENT. WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T STRAY OUT OF THE FORT!” Everyone turned to the source of a voice. It came from a hooded girl wearing a mask and a robe. A translucent emerald brilliance of forest and scent of wood wafted from her. A familiar bloodied mage in helmet hung on her shoulder -- injured but still breathing They all recognized that fashion sense. “Another one?” Emily voiced what everybody thought. “Just how many of these freaks of nature are out there.” “I can still…” Hikma protested him being carried like a potato sack. “Can still fight?” Cytortia said in unquenched outraged. “You would have drowned if I didn’t make it. After that crushed femur, 3 fractured ribs, concussion, and those internal bleedings, you are in no position to do anything. Your job now is too still and let [Tir Na Soal] fix your sorry ass.” The Chronicler promptly shut up as Cytortia, codename Saint, pulled out an alchemical firework she modified and shoot it up. The symbol of hope dawn shone in the sky, signaling the conclusive battle against PALISADE.

Edward Balorian took the ambush attack with utter and complete surprise. He wasn’t that outrage at the new breathing hole in his stomach but the audacity of an insect for daring to ambush him. The fact the motley crew drawn his blood actually half-amuse the vampire. However, the other half was solid wrath. No one drew a blood of a noble vampire and walked away with it. “Oh, silly me,” Edward announced in a malevolent, cheerful tone. He moved in split-seconds, plucking Joshua by the neck. The woman beside him lunged with a knife, but a quick backhand from Edward sent her flying. Joshua stared into those eyes of malevolence. Around them, the drones and the crowd descend into chaotic melees. The conflict was so brutal no one notice the loss of the 33 Stars. No, the desperate crowds were too busily getting thrown like rag dolls. The drones were smashing them and they kept coming; undisturbed by the resistance or the anesthetic raining down from above. The dilute gas alone may not worth a lot, but it was taking its toll. Anyone with low endurance stats was about to meet a world of pain. Even Joshua himself felt numbness grasping his body. “Tell me, boy,” Edward spoke an inch from his face. Joshua impressively managed not to soil himself against his canines and stench of bloody mayhem. “Do you actually believe you can do a thing to me?”  Joshua’s confidence in his leader never faltered. “You are no match against her. She saw that trick from miles away?” “Oh,” Edward tightened his grip, lifting the struggling man to the air, choking him. “And who is this mysterious ‘she’.” Bang! Thunderous noise ranged from the ceiling. “Great… timing… Commander.” Edward barely registered the entrance until it happened. The metal ceiling exploded. Something blasted its way out of the delivery system and smashed into the ground in raining metal splinters and dust. The hooded figure peered straight ahead. Her steely crimson eyes blazed with an unwavering inferno. The veil covering her face couldn’t hide the suppressed fury of her gritted teeth. Commander Serina sped toward her target at the speed that even Edward admitted was impressive. But her attack was much faster. Serina released three separate blood red saw blades at Edward, Senwei and Salazar Aztellic. Edward and Salazar dodged on instinct, while Senwei, recognizing the woman entering the fray, blocked with a dome of the storming wind. Senwei made the right decision. The blood red blast readjusted to its target at expertly timed speed and angle. Edward was forced to drop Joshua for the sake of evading the blades. Meanwhile, Salazar used Artos Sevar as a human shield, but the spinning blades shifted slightly, sailing past the elf ears and sawing the Ogre’s shoulder. Then she was upon them. Sun Senwei, knowing what to expect, attempted to put some distance between them. But Serina was faster. She grabbed the 33 Stars by the ankle and smashed him into the ground. She lifted Sun like a rucksack and smashed him into the floor again with enough force to dent the floor. “Stop!” Sun Senwei cut his pain short. “I surrender.” Commander Serina snorted. “What happen to that ego? I remember you are more eager in our last meeting.” “Look, I am not stupid enough to repeat our last match. Once is enough. How about this? I won’t move from here, unless someone attack me? Hell, I won’t even stand until you are okay with it. Is that fine?” Serina growled. “Fine. But one wrong move and I will rip your arm from its socket.” “Deal. And watch out.” Serina turned her attention to a bloody Salazar who swung in with a vengeance. The Ogre attempted to smash her with a gigantic sword, but Serina was much faster. She stepped into the strike range, bringing her fist toward Salazar’s nose. In a surprising display of speed, the Ogre caught her punch and tossed the vampires away. He then turned his attention to the neutral Senwei. “Why the fuck are you turning yellow!? Get up and help!” “Salazar, buddy,” Senwei was chilled. “Don’t waste your time on the fight you can’t win.” “It is just vampire!” “Yeah, and your jaw about to realize that one vampire isn’t someone you can fight.” “My—" Salazar’s retort was met by the kick in the face from Serina, who launched herself from midair using her blood-red mist. The kick lifted the towering Ogre’s towering height from the ground. Salazar landed on his feet and activated his [Inherit Skill]. His muscle bulged, boosting his height into a three meters tall bundle of muscle and roared in berserker rage. Everyone on the floor gaped at the mass of demonic might. Those several moments of distraction nearly cost lives as the crowd almost forgot they were surrounded by killer bots. But Serina didn’t care. She went to work at nimbly disabling Slazar's knees, evading his fist and destroying his elbow’s ligament with a super strength kick. The fully bulk-up Ogre may tower over her, but Serina compensated with greater speed, vicious attacks and more precise usage of her substantial super strength. She dodged a kick from the hulking demon and impaled her fist into his mid-section with enough force to break the steel. Salazar doubled over in pain, but Serina didn’t stop. She flipped him over and lifted the towering Ogre over her head before slamming his back over her knee. The smash was loud and clear. The 33 Stars, Edward and few spectators, watched Salazar Aztelic rolled from Serina’s knee, shrank to his original size and began crawling away with his arm — unable to move his paralyze leg. Suddenly, the Ogre felt a hand lifted him by his clothing. His heart sank. Oh boy. That savage woman wasn’t satisfied with only breaking his back. He was right. Commander Serina energized herself with a roar and tossed Salazar Aztelic cleared across the hall in a herculean feat of raw strength. The last thing Salazar remembered was herds of war-drones surrounding him. Done with cleaning up, Serina took in the surrounding. Emily and Amitate recovered their consciousness just in time to witnessed the backbreaker. Artos and Magnolia’s jaw dropped. Aryssa was still on magical fire. Sorin Enma was out cold. Joshua and the woman — Yurica — lifted themselves up to salute her. Meanwhile, the surrounding was still a carnage of battle. Serina eyed Edward who was walking toward them, but priority came first. “What the fuck are you gaping at?” The Commander yelled. She pointed at the two elves. “You two drop area fire-support and healing. The survivors are getting their asses kick, while you two gapes like a dimwit.” Magnolia was outrage. “Excuse me! I —” But the Serina got no patience. “-- am fucking useless, so start being useful! You are freezing stiff when I arrive! Is this your first combat scenario? Tell me your name and what can you do!?” Magnolia straightened up. She knew she should argue, but the vampire in front of her exuded an irrefutable aura of authority. “Magnolia Drakokia! Spirit Contractor with Wind, Water, Ice and Holy attribute.” “Good! Start laying area healing to soften the injury. I want an Ice and wind barricade to give our people some reprieve.” She then pointed at Artos. “And you, I already noticed your expertise. Switch from healing to morale support, after you fix the demons. We need to rally the troop to push back.” Artos nodded instinctively. The vampire’s command was too overbearing to argue. Amitate opened his loud mouth. “Hey look, bloodsucker, do you know who—” “Who you are doesn’t mean crap!” Serina shut the demon down by raising her voice. “Right now, you are more pathetic than a pile of wet cardboard! Man-up and start pulling your weight! We are fighting to survive. If you want to hinder everyone by being a selfish little bitch, then I will throw you to join that Ogre!” Amitate raised his mouth, but noticeably went paled when Serina cracked her knuckle. “Any complaint, solider?” “No,..” “Great,” Serina turned to Artos. “Heal them while I deal with that evil piece of shit. We need to disable those delivery systems and the gas. Joshua, Yurica, I trust you know what to do.” “Yes, sir!” In the distance, Edward clapped. “Amazing charisma and tactical awareness of the battlefield. May I know which house you descend from?” Serina silently lifted her hand, sending a wave of blood red energy crashing down on Edward. Edward didn’t get the clue and kept talking. “The purity and speed of your [Bloodmist] suggest a superior breed. I don’t believe you are a commoner. Just who is your sire.” Serina’s eyes grew brighter, and she vanished. A thought crept to Edward’s brain. Maybe, just may, that question was a reverse scale.  Edward's gut feeling was dead correct. Serina’s strike from behind, intending to chop him in half. Her dual-wielded [Bloodmist] coated blades reflected a merciless red-glimpses the commander’s eyes became. Edward countered with his own bloody power. Two [Bloodmist] crashed, but to Edward’s shock, Serina’s attack overpowered him. A narrow dodged prevented him from being bisected in half. Explosion of dark-red echoed as Edward rolled back to his feet with his sword drawn. The two vampires went in with their blades. Swords swing from above dragged against a dagger. Edward dodged a knife barely grazing his cheek and bought his blade to Serina's chest. The commander reversed her grip on her free dagger and to block the thrust. However, Edward accomplished his goal. “Explode.” In a display of unrivaled combat aptitude, Serina tossed both knives away as they exploded. She gathered herself and deduced  Edward’s ability. As a fellow vampire, Serina possessed similar powers to Edward. All vampires possessed supreme strength, speed, regeneration and [Bloodmist]. However, high-ranking vampires [Bloodmist] had extra property — her included. This property took a form of a secondary attribute. It appeared Edward could detonate anything in contact with his [Bloodmist] enhanced weapon. It made a head-on combat against him nearly impossible. More troublesome was his [Blood Armament]. Aside from being a brutal conqueror, vampires also obeyed a culture of looting. Using the same technique to enthralling people, vampire could also parasitize a legendary weapon into their [Blood Armament], granting them a pseudo sentience. Edward’s sword was one of those. “Wind Owl,” Edward commanded his sword to unleash its full power. An owl made of blood emerged behind Edward and flew upward, raining feathers of crimson over the area. “You are planning to bombard the area?” Serina gathered her [Bloodmist]. “Dream on.” … “Arrgh,” Aryssa screamed one more time before Artos extinguished the mystic fires burning her alive. The battered priestess staggered to her feet, conjured a blade of holy light, and stumbled to a crater where Sun Senwei laid. She leapt down the crater only to get blasted by wind punch. Aryssa laid flat on her back and groaned. “Quiet down,” Sun Senwei spoke from beneath the crater. “I don’t want to get out of this hole and be murdered by her.” “You know that vampire, Sunwei?” Emily said. “I fight her once,” Sun admitted. “She is the strongest person I ever fought. I beat plenty of vampires before but… oh darn she is getting serious.” “Eh?” Magnolia tuned into the conversation. “She wasn’t serious before.” Sunwei pointed upward. They gazed up to find countless feather of blood rained from the sky. All members of 33 Stars knew that was an attack. Aryssa, Artos, and Emily quickly rose to the occasion and began conjuring a barrier, but Senwei wasn’t worried. “Don’t fret. Our girl has this.” Not a syllable later, the feathers of blood got shredded to smithereens, and exploded before any of them hit the ground. “What the hell was that?” “An unparallel [Blood Armament],” Sun Senwei looked at the sky as he remembered the battle. “Trust me. That Edward-guy doesn’t even come close to her.” … Edward looked at his attempt at carpet bombing the mustering area. The rain of feathers so many they blotted the ceiling in a red cloud of elegance and dread were shredded into non-existence. Before the overwhelming displays of precise extinguishing, the countless feather blotting out the battlefield were reduced to dust. “What?” Edward gawked at his vanishing attack. “Nice legendary sword,” Serina trudged to the vampire calmly. Red mist gathered around her like a shroud of death. “Sadly, I am a pauper, and unlike your murderous pieces of trash, I don’t plunder for fun and profit. So, I have a lot of problems.” The red mist gathered forming a pair of swords. Edward's jaw hung open. His vampiric vision allowed him to see the small dust floating inside that crimson vapor. “Iron dust? You corrupted iron sand? No. Oh shit.” “Yep, like I say, working in a criminal organization and perpetually cashless meant I need to be prudent, so I save bit and pieces since I am ten. Bits of adamantine, some leftover from industrial-grade diamond. Oh, I also get some rare magical ores. Then one day I got this bright idea. Why don’t I just grind all of them to dust and make it my weapon? That way I can even boost its power with rarer ore.” Edward’s mind gave it a thought. His enemy parasitized a massive quantity of metal dust that could be shaped, strengthened and manipulated any way she wishes. That explained how she altered her attack direction so freely. She must send the dust to destroy his feather rain. But if those dust already got scattered in the air, didn’t this mean he was inside her kill range? Edward got his answer when countless blades of steel launched toward him. He replied with a slash of [Bloodmist] powered sword-wave, but a coin size metal projectile intercepted it mid-air, forcing him to dodge the blades, and stepping on a waiting spike of metal. Edward gritted his teeth, but cried out as the metal spike sprouted barbs. He launched more explosive feathers, only to get intercepted by more metal coin. To insult his pride, Serina didn’t move a single inch. “Come down here and fight fairly, you bitch!” Edward roared, coating his entire body in a mist of bloods. “Fine,” Serina molded her dust blades into a blood red scythe. “I want to gut you personally anyway.” Edward launched a wave of [Bloodmist], detonating everything the slithering energy met in its paths, ripping the metal floor and shaking the entire room with raw explosive forces. In return, Serina swung the scythe, now glowing crimson white. The weapon had transformed into spectral blades of light in her hand.  … The red flares flooded the room. “Okay,” Sun Senwei poked his head from the crater. “That was new.” “Crimson light?” Emily turned toward Aryssa. “No,” the priestess answered the unspoken question. “We encounter no vampire who could turn their weapon into a spectral one. Only a few specific Holy art could do that. We receive a report that Orwell Mehest could perform similar feat, but this is the first time a vampire did it.” … Edward toppled to the ground. His belly slice opened by the techniques which utterly annihilated his gigantic sword-wave. Commander Serina stood above him with a spear made from her metal dust resting at his neck. He tried to get up, but the opposing [Bloodmist] was turning his inside into mush. “Are you crazy? You must know you are siding with the people who want to exterminate all of us? Can’t you understand it is us or them!?” Serina spoke softly. “Yeah, it is us or them. That is how it will end. But the vampires will never survive. I will hunt every bloodsucker down to the last. The Holy Church must go, but they got that right. Every single one of us present, past and future is a plague of curses who should never be born. Don’t worry I don’t plan to live after I bury you pest. I will be the last and final vampire on this cursed planet.” Edward sneered. “With your power, you could have been a prodigy! Why—” “Because I am a mistake. At least, I should erase other mistakes before I go.” It was at that moment the floor erupted with electrical discharge.

With Cytortia entering the fray, it was time to check the damage and pray for the fallen. Rem: probably out from the count from bench-pressing the sea. Hikma: Severely injured from blocking PALISADE’s one-shot nuke. Now under doctor order to sit and heal. Luxinna: Disappeared after eating the one-shot nuke. Melody: Exhausted herself fighting Luxinna also vanished after receiving the nuke in the face. Survivor: Most were still alive aside from notable loss of Salazar Aztellic. It needed to be added the reason they lasted this long was because of sheer luck and Horizon Dawn’s members taking several bullets on their behalf. … Cytortia knew what the current situation boiled into. Rem wasn’t here to lead them, and the rest of the Dawn wasn’t here for supporting. It was the do-or-die moment. Time to test how much the little girl who used to run from crisis held up against the titanic weight of the world being put on her shoulder. Contrary to her expectation, Cytortia was utterly calm. After the Paracis, the dragon and the debacle in Venistalis, she gave up panicking. Hell, PALISADE charging up superpower cannon didn’t even phase her. The former goddess activated her EAPS. [Paradiso the Never-ending Boundary] Yes, the name was a mouthful, but it encapsulated Cytortia’s unmatched mastery in defensive art. [Paradiso] was a Primal Arcane to manipulate territory and borders. It acted as a seal and barrier that work conceptual level; able to tune many factors such as element and—as witnessed in Hikma’s battle against the 33 Stars—communication with Spirits. Its defensive capability meant it was heavily favored. Hikma heavily relied upon it for his infamous [Trinity]. Melody tried to learn it. Those who lacked potential in it — Rem and Luxinna — still respected its versatility enough to learn how to counter said Arcane. However, despite being its first practitioner, Hikma was surpassed by Cytortia. He was talented with the Arcane, but Cy was a natural. She was the master of [Paradiso] in the same way Rem became the master of [Tenshou]. Cytortia’s [Never-ending Boundary] was more like an art than a shield. It formed with alternating layers of [Paradiso] stacked together like plywood. Each interval of layers specialized in a different form of defense alternate in layer of physical, anti-interference, magical; glued together by a [Paradiso] specialized as conduction membrane. These smart layers compiled to build an impenetrable artistic fortress enhanced further by [Tir Na Soal] regenerative ability. It had tanked every single combination of attack the members of Horizon Dawn threw at it. This unbreachable castle wall was further boosted by the former goddess’ [Benevolence Core] — the compensation gained from reducing her attack to zero. The survivors panic as the cyan light emerged from PALISADE's cannon, but Cytortia’s emerald fortress rose into the shape of a geodesic dome. The cyan beam met the translucent emerald wall in the collision that evaporated the water-surface in a flash of heat. Waves rocked from the epicenter. Steam rose. Layers of defense crumbled from the raw output only for [Tir Na Soal] to reverse the damage in the cycle of destruction and rejuvenation. The attack was devastating, but Cytortia succeeded where Luxinna and Hikma failed — her defense held. “I got this!” Cytortia yelled, receiving the full powered of the orbital weapon powered by several Mana reactor. “Counter attack! Now!” And thus, under the power-boosting essence of Cytortia the counter-attack truly began. [Enma Style: Bestial Thunder Spear] Sorin Enma unleashed a massive lightning bull that leapt at the battle satellite like a maneuverable homing spear, scorching the air as it collided with PALISADE. “Lightwell Spirit Art: Four Corners array.”  Magnolia summoned all her four spirits, pooling their power to create a tornado of frozen wind and hail. The tornado engulfed PALISADE. The whirling wind reaching high into the sky was comparable to a mass destruction spell that could annihilate an army. It would cast all of Magnolia's Mana to unleash such a devastating move, but under [Tir Na Soal] such an act became a possibility. [Infernal Ice: Crept of Frost] x 20 Emily Aztellic conjured 20 spears of Aquamarine ice at PALISADE. Each spear was equal to an anti-siege weapon capable of blowing a hole into a castle wall. [Devil Flame: Bats swarms] Amitate Aztellic unleashed a sword of bats that was infamous for setting army camps ablaze and rendering anything that crossed its path into smoldering skeletons. PALISADE absorbed these four attacks. It admitted the raw destructive ability presented would be enough to annihilate a small army and destroy several settlements. But PALISADE wasn’t a creature of fresh and blood. It need not to care about the lowering temperature or the mystical ice and fires creeping up its barrier. The electrical attack might pose a threat, but the AI’s advance grounding the technology turned that mute. PALISADE’s orbital cannon faded and its concentric rings spun around in a blur of motion and axis, charging a spatial pulse, which batted away all incoming attacks. [Ampule: Uprise] Magnolia cast a towered of a reverse waterfall at PALISADE, which did exactly nothing. It didn’t even distract the machine from Sun Senwei’s dragon punch sailing from above. PALISADE opened its diamond core and fired a few shots of its laser, catching Senwei in the air, and sending him tumbling into the ocean below. He was barely caught by [Nimbus] tossed out by severly injured Hikma. Cytortia took a quick glanced at Senwei’s condition. It was bad. The attack severed his arm and blew a hole in his stomach, leaving a sickening image of his innards open for all to see. Worst was the blood that slowly tainted the water beneath her deep red. Even for A-ranker, this injury was life threatening  [Necta Floral] The Arcane immediately regrew Sun Senwei’s limbs and repair his body, but he showed no sign of waking up. Cytortia was surprised. Her healing ability was way more powerful than anyone, so… oh. [Tir Na Soal] might be a miracle power the returned everything to its optimally purified, unaltered state, but that also included the toxin in his body. Originally, [Necta Flora] could extract any alchemical toxin he experience, but PALISADE’s weaponry was more sinister than that. Magnus Sin Crystal. It was a material that could disrupt Mana via radiation and was the kryptonite to everyone using magic. But certain research Cytortia read proposed that a certain frequency of the radiation could synthesize Mana into a toxic dust. Thankfully, even the Isle of Knowledge still lacked the control condition to weaponized this technology — the equipment size, fine-control of the instrument and the energy requirement made it unfeasible project. Somehow, PALISADE answered all the questions barring the creation of the perfect mage-killing weapon. Sun body was filled with microscopic toxic dust that was defusing across his body. If not for her [Bio Empathy], Cytortia wouldn’t be able to pinpoint the exact nature of this aliment at such speed. She grimaced. This kind of poison was the one she couldn’t cure with [Tir Na Soal], because once the resynthesis completed the dust was considered a separate entity. [Tir Na Soal] could reverse the proton donation and change Hydrochloric acid back into water, but it can’t remove the microplastic and bacteria inside it. “Everyone! Whatever you do, do not get his by PALISADE attack! Those lasers are powered by Magus Sin Crystal. One shot and it will cripple your Mana.” “Wait! I read about those. Isn’t that weapon application being impossible?” Emily asked, lobbing another spear of ice, which yielded no result. “Well, ask Senwei that question! I doubt there any medication that can fully heal this. If you get hit, you better grit your teeth because I won’t be able to fix you.” [Harmonic: River Breath] Artos Sevar unleashed another cleaving wave of water from behind the barrier. A shot from PALISADE’s artillery laser reduce the glowing wave into water and black dust. “Then why is he still fine?” the elf pointed at Hikma. Cytortia frowned. That was a good question. Hikma’s [Trinity] failed to block the main orbital canon. Although, it nullified the blunt of the attack. Hikma still got struck by the beam. He should be in the similar state to Senwei. Then Cytortia realized the one thing to separate Horizon Dawn’s members from the rest of Phantasia. Lack of internal Mana. PALISADE attacked couldn’t permanently cripple them because they didn’t store Mana inside their body. Any traditional measuring device won’t register them as physic bending, demi-god killer they were. No. Tradition measuring device would spell them as a baseline Mana-less human. Instead, True Magic sourced power by conducting them through their Mana Core, which Rem and Melody theorized as some-kind of Astral Organ. Meanwhile, God had [Divine Core] (Divinity). Mages copied them by creating a pseudo [Divine Core]—often known as [Circles]. Meanwhile, Cultivator stored a processed Mana in their Dantian. Melody and Cytortia herself often debated the relation between these subjects in their spare time. Their most logical theory for spell-caster — assuming they got Rem’s vague story of his talk with Satholia’s messenger correctly — was that they directly caused a scaring in their natural [Mana Core] allowing the coagulation of Mana to be reforged into [Circles]. Either way, left over Mana was constantly filling the mage body, while Horizon Dawn’s members neatly tucked their Mana inside whatever metaphysical, para-causal dimension their mental realm resided in. Cytortia internally groaned. The Dawn was likely the only organization in Phantasia who laughed in the face of Magus Sin Crystal.  But even then, something concerned her. “Chronicler, how much did that laser hurt?” Hikma’s silence answered everything Cytortia needed to know. “It hurt worse than anything,” Hikma spoke. “And it drained my [Aura] in seconds.” Cytortia grimaced. Yep, her guess was correct. Horizon Dawn might survive a direct hit from Magnus Sin Crystal laser, but its effect on Mana would damage their aura-protection. Their close link with their Mana would also result in a deliberating pain when the [Aura] received the hit. Cytortia groaned. The difficulty was getting higher with each step of progress. At the moment, they were stuck inside a stalemate. PALISADE failed to penetrate Cytortia’s supreme defense, while the crowd of ragtag misfits lacked the raw offensive might to overcome the spatial barrier. Something needed to happen for the battle to progress and that something was PALISADE unleashing its Bunker busting options. The compartment in the mechanical juggernaut folded open to unleash a swarm of metal bees. The bees sprayed fumes that soon blanket everything in a pink mist. “What is it doing?” Amitate asked Cytortia whom everyone had recognized as the leader in charge of the defense. Cytortia stared at the smoke slowly dying the ocean pink and thickened it into a pink jell. Then she noticed an acrid smoke rising from where the dyed liquid met her barrier. “Acid!” Cytortia yelled, as the pink ocean rose into a massive a gigantic slime decorated with circuit lines. The slime headed toward the dome and the defender response by blasting it to pieces. However, the only thing that accomplished was scattering the blob everywhere on Cytortia’s barrier, causing more toxic smoke and shipping at the protection’s durability. Hikma rose. It was a tremendous game plan from PALISADE. It knew breaking the barrier with one attack was improbable, so it sought to weaken Cytortia’s defense with a synthetic acid slime. Aside from passively damaging the barrier, the acrid fumes its produce would slowly displace oxygen and choke their air supply. Then the bees emitted a god-awful noise. A high-pitch vibration that rocked the eardrum of everyone in proximity sent everyone to their knees and nearly caused Cytortia to drop her barrier. The sound-waves were so intense that its frequency quaked the dome. It was a two-pronged assault with sound and chemical. Cytortia gritted her teeth. She must cast another [Paradiso] to seal the sound attack. It was then she saw PALISADE priming another orbital strike. The AI wasn’t playing around. This wasn’t good. Cytortia was slowly being overwhelmed and undercut. Hikma was still recovering. The priestess doubted anyone inside the barrier could go out and reversed situation this horrible. It was then the lightning struck. … Magnolia Drakokia was always afraid of lightning. It was a story her father told. The tale of a monster that arrived from the sky and burned everything with the wrath of the gods. The tale about the monster who would take her away if she misbehaved. Thunder was the element their guardian trembled in surrender. It was the mark of a beast. It explained why her sister needed to go. So why… The giant thunderbolt from far away mutilated the acid slime in a split-second. Scent of ozone wafted in wake of the sparks lit the sky. The golden shower which carried that lightning sailed into a swarm of robotic bees and overturned every obstacle in front of it to smithereens. Why was that lightning bolt so reassuring? A young woman landed inside a barrier like a heavenly messenger, cladded in golden armor, illuminating with light from several power nodes. Her armor glistened like a steel forged from the sun. Even its chinks shone with undying light. Glass-visor covered her identity but, for a brief second, Magnolia felt the gaze behind that mask made a quick glance at her. The Ace of Dawn landed at the right timing. On her shoulder was an unconscious woman with scarlet hair, a ruined jacket and a torn bloused. The blonde woman called Saint breathed a sigh of relief at the girl’s arrival. “Thank god, you are here,” She glanced at the horned red-head. “What happen to her?” “I won the fight,” said the newly arrived knight.  “Bullshit,” said the demoness hung on her shoulder. “Don’t mind our Empress,” the golden knight quickly tried to reassert her victory. “We kinda get blasted by that thing. It was tough as hell. The attack broke [Guard Flora] like nothing, but we ducked away in time. Although Emp, got grazed by it.” “Shut… up,” Empress was groaning. “Hey, the attack is…” “Yeah, Magnus Sin Crystal, how fast did it knock out your [Aura].” The demoness grimaced. “Almost instantly. It felt like my inside being shredded.” “I concur,” the Chronicler called. The newly arrived golden girl absorbed the situation.  “Shit! How many of us are down?” Magnolia butted into the conversation. “The rest of us are okay,” she pointed at Hikma. “I believe he would be down for a count. Sun Senwei just got taken out and the last I check Artos is about to get into a fight with Amitate. As for Sorin and Cocogar… wait they were there a moment ago.” ""Hey!!”” The dysfunctional pair yelled. “Shut up and stop fighting,” Emily yelled. “Sorin! Cocogar! Why the hell you are hiding behind me. Why are you looking at that woman like she is death itself? Hey, Cocogar stop praying. It is getting creepy!” Nearby, Commander Serina watched dead in the eyes as the situation deteriorated. “Should I help them?” “Please do,” Emily Aztellic looked to the sky and wished for peace. Cytortia watched all this development and made one observation. “How the fuck did thing break down this fast when I take my eyes off them for less than a second?” Luxinna petted her on the shoulder. “You did your best, Saint. I will handle this,” the Ace of Dawn then glanced back at Magnolia. “I have one favor to ask you, Mag-.” “It Magnolia,” Hikma reminded Luxinna about keeping distance “What?” Magnolia felt she wasn’t supposed to be in the conversation. “Please be quiet, kay?” Ace begged. “Magnolia, I know you mean well.” Cytortia gazed to the distance sky to ignore the huge irony in that statement. Ace continued. “But for a reason I can’t explain, I want you to be as quiet as possible. I simply had no mental capacity to deal with my garbage and a killer AI at once. So, I beg you. Please try not to help. Okay.” Luxinna Latoria blasted upward. Totally eager to face PALISADE to escape her family drama, ignoring vehement protest from her estranged little sister.

In that room only illuminated by magical cyberpunk answer to LED, Rem held Phantasia first homicidal AI at gun point. Neither side made a move. Both Rem and PALISADE understood this suspense was temporary, a momentary calm hanging on the thread of curiosity. “You know I know what you did,” Rem’s first sentence painted the convoluted picture to light. “But I must ask you this one question. What pushes you to do this?” Ehto also tensed, waiting to know the answer to the question plaguing him for years. … Up on the ocean, Melody punched Luxinna into the sky, but the golden beast readjusted her body position, conjuring a massive lance of golden glass. She threw the glass at full strength. Melody performed the midair maneuver and dove from the attack only for the spear to split into tiny glass blades homing at her in all directions. “Shit.” The blade hit her from all sides, exploding in golden eruption. … Inside the mental-scape, a bloody Luxinna hit the dirt. The elf’s corrupted mirror version crash-landed into her, hammering fist after fist and bouncing her around the area with its beating. Blood splash everywhere from her pulverized and bruised face. The monster threw her up and kicked into flight. Luxinna felt nothing from her dulled sense of pain. Her body was eviscerated, crumpled, crushed, and beaten so much that she could no longer distinguish her sense. Neither the leaves fluttered past her body and the broken tree she crashed into returned her sensation. The only scent up her broken nose was blood. Her vision was blurry. Was it possible to be punched blind? The world was so funny. The sky was red, and the ground was black for a reason. Oh, was that another tree. Luxinna barely registered the final tree she collided into or the eerie feeling of bouncing off a rock cliff into the waterfall. The only thing she registered was crashing into the cliff’s surface and splashing into the dark, ominous liquid of the waterfall. From that purple fluid, Luxinna floated. Defeat. Not a hint of golden glass armor remained after her bloody beating at the hand of the corrupted reflection. Every exhausted. All muscle fiber torn. Lethal quantity of blood flowed out of many injuries, dying the corruptive fluid even darker. Meanwhile, the liquid of the perverse waterfall seeped into her body, slowly eroding and mutating her cell. If Luxinna didn’t burst her eardrum during the battle, she would have reacted to the monster falling down nearby. But she didn’t react, the only thing visible in her lightless eyes was the ominous monster; the Paracis Corrupter eroding her very identity. … Melody’s clothing was ruined from the last explosion, but that was the least of her worries. The berserker Luxinna recovered her ability to wield Arcane. Melody faced a giant electrical eagle while the monstrous elf slashed her glass claymore, releasing a tidal wave of compact of electrical sword-wave on her. Sparks and lightnings covered the sky as Melody tanked lightning with her Aura. [Pyro Genesis] Wyvern of flames collided with the giant eagle in a physic-defying collision governed utterly by Mana. Melody’s trouble wasn’t over. The Paracis controlled Luxinna fired a series of Mach-12 projectiles. The demoness froze. Uh oh. She knew that trick. The projectiles erupted, forming the link of enchantment akin to a cage of electricity which struck in Melody with the weight of a truck. The demoness gritted her teeth and finally decided that an out-of-controlled Luxinna who rapidly regaining her ability while being amped with bullshit True Magic outweighed anything a malicious AI could throw. [Burning Asura: Dragon Dance] With her body switching to overdrive, the massive amount of power surged from Melody to activate her strongest Primal Arcane. [Dravritra: Scale] Translucent scale belonging to the draconic ancestor materialized around Melody, easily fending off Luxinna lightning and scrambled the cage of electricity zapping the life out of her. She met the elf who rocketed toward her at rail-gun round speed with the crimson crawl that did a number on Trimegal. Sensing the raw destructive power about to rain on her, the elf drew her arm back and performed Luxinna’s coup de grâce. [Dravritra: Claw] The crimson finger traced a line of annihilation that warped the space and burned the air. [Jewel Sword: Salvation] The gauntlet of glass churned with pressurized molten fluid build-up enough to rip apart a decent chunk of a city. The collision between crimson and gold illuminated the sky with searing heat and light. Energy crackled and exploded. Raw energy burned the very oxygen as the semi-nuclear bomb level output disrupted against the bending space. Something got to give. Eventually, something gave way. The chitin covered body of Luxinna lost the contest of power and got blasted to the ocean. The armor covering her arm fractured to its last layer. The elf tumbled into the ocean in an enormous splashed. However, Melody wasn’t celebrating her victory. She was gasping for breath. “She already got [Salvation] back,” Melody wanted to lodge the complaint. She was lucky Luxinna didn’t have access to [Historia] or else that contest would end differently. No. Even without [Historia] she wouldn’t be winning anyway. [Dragon Dance] was a double-edge sword. She either won before the inevitable burnt-out or expected Luxinna to beat her to death once the debtor collected. The fight was now put on the timer. The elf shot from the water not a second later. The armor on her arms was already repairing itself. Meanwhile, her other hand glowed with a familiar compressed swirling of liquid glass. What the hell? Repetitive used of [Jewel Sword]. Melody wanted to cry. What type of insane power was this? High-speed armor regeneration and ability to spam such output without set-up. Even sane Luxinna couldn’t do this. [Jewel Sword: Salvation] Melody, foreseeing the attack coming, banked as hard as possible away from the concentrate torrent of golden destruction. Melody gritted her teeth and unleashed her speed move. [Dravritra: Wing] The demoness zoomed toward the elf grabbing her by the armor arm. [Dravritra: Fang] Melody grasped Luxinna’s remaining gauntlet. Her fingers sank into the glass like fang of the dragon, injecting powerful energy into the material and eroding it to pieces. But the Luxinna’s reaction was fast as expected. She immediately ejected her arm from the bulky armor and pirouetted, aiming the whipped Melody out of the sky with a reinforce tail. Melody passed the dexterity check and responded with a kick amped by another Arcane. [Dravritra: Tail] The demoness foot, backed by the kinetic energy of a meteor, smashed the [Static Glass] tail into glittering dust. The collision sent a shock-wave which batted Melody into the ocean. Melody breathed deeply. Yeah, she was keeping up, winning even, but it won’t lose much longer. It was then the ocean again exploded in lightning. Melody’s shoulder sank. The hell. How much would it take to put the elf down? Luxinna’s inexhaustible persistence wasn’t the only thing Melody should worry about. As the foam and bubbling ocean died down to reveal her opponent, the demoness discovered why even Rem dreaded Luxinna's growing ability. The elf was sporting a new armor now. The monstrous beast inhibiting her was originally cladded her in golden exoskeleton; a stark contrast to refined and light greaves, breastplate, and gauntlets Luxinna favored. This armor essentially combined the best of both Luxinna the hero and Luxinna the berserker. Yes, chitin still covered her body, but it appeared the Legend finally discovered the optimal way to employ experience laid inside Luxinna’s body. The bulky tentacles and tails were gone. The cumbersome armor was slimmed down to Luxinna’s favored size. But it was the glow that worried Melody. The new armor sported several oval nodes. Two on her back as if it were wings. Two by either side of her hips. Each one on the shoulder, either side of the thigh and bicep. And finally, a glowing node like light in between her chest. Every one of these auditioned was glazed with a golden glass. The opaque, expressionless faceplate remained to represent its lack of empathy. Luxinna’s current armor wouldn’t be unfamiliar from the realm of full body knight. Worst was the Melody did not know what she could— It happened in a flash. Luxinna appeared above him in a glittering dust and punched. Golden specs scattered around her body like a glitter of a butterfly. [Dravritra: Scale] Melody watched her shield flickered to life. Luxinna’s gauntlet hit the shield. It hard out-layer charred against the scale of the dragon, but its inner layer emitted a familiar glow of supercharged golden dust. “Shit” [Jewel Sword: Salvation] The focus blast of [Jewel Sword] blew up Melody's defence and sent the demoness flying through the air. Should it be mentioned, this version of Luxinna’s armor had excellent air-combat function. Well, Melody about was about to find that out the hard way. … Inside her mental landscape, Luxinna was dying. She didn’t need Cytortia to tell her the ominous liquid broken body submerged in was slowly mutating and poisoning her cells. Without medical attention or strength to resist, she would be digested. Resistance was futile. Yet, and in the mist of death, Luxinna thought back to her memory of the time in Millian.  One day, I believe I will reach it, the knight who fast enough to save everyone. Luxinna refused to betray her vow. There must be a way to win. Ability to punch people wasn’t the answer. No. The elf glance at the huge flower of Paracis Corruptor. She must admit she forgot the Rem’s basic guide of strategy, affirming the win condition. She must subdue her True Magic—the Legend represented by the Corruptor. Wait. Her True Magic? Luxinna wanted to drown herself. This test was a disguise like everything the WORLD did. This was a lesson. Something WORLD wanted to teach to avoid a ticking time-bomb — one aim specifically at the elf — and what was the lesson she learned from fighting the darker version of herself. Her father. Her sister. All of Lightwell believed Mia Alusto’s glorious image that they were a chosen race above mortal judgement. However, her corrupted version proofed contrary. It showed a version of her that got corrupted like any forest animal except more destructive. This was the WORLD’s lesson—a refutation of Mia. Averting your eyes from your darker nature and claiming purity or superiority didn’t make you immune to corruption. Now, what would allow you triumph over your darker impulse. Luxinna spread her presence over the corrupted water. Like it or not, this place was a part of her. The potential to be a monster existed inside her and its time she accepted the fact. Even Rem’s comic book heroes have a dark side and doubt, but it was their ability to channel them to do good was what her friend considered the proved they were superior to pleb like Bhima and Achilles. Luxinna breathed, absorbing that corrupted water with a resolve and released her willpower. It became an authority. A golden wave of power to remind her of darkness who was in charge. Golden liquid oozed from her wound, converting the rancid water into a well of light. Luxinna rose to her feet, despite her smashed leg and broken body. She faced the beast with the presence woven across the entire field. The beast growled and charge at Ace of the Horizon Dawn. Luxinna didn’t even bother dodging. She wasn’t fast enough and it won’t matter anyway. The talon of the monster carved through her chest, smashing her heart and spine before penetrating through her back. It was pointless. The attempt succeeded, but the result was worthless. “Sorry,” Luxinna ignored the gaping hole in her chest. “But you are a part of me. The only person who decides whether your attack hurt is me and me alone.” Golden light erupted from Luxinna's chest and dissolve the unstoppable beast into golden dust. Luxinna daintily flicked her hand at the Paracis and evaporated it into a shower of golden spark. CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! … Melody braced herself for the punch. After Luxinna reemerged in that golden armor, the battle turned utterly unsalvageable. The elf finally regained her access to [Overflow], and the result was brutal. Melody could deal with the elf's normal hyper-speed action, but this version of Luxinna took [Overflow] to another level. [Dravritra: Claw] Melody released as many [Claw] as her stamina permitted, but the elves were fast. I was a seemless blended of [Overflow] processing and her electromagnetic acceleration. The elves weaved through the rending space and smashed the demoness across the sky. It was like fighting a humanoid fighter jet running at Mach-13. Right. Left. Above. Forward. Right again. Her velocity was meticulously calculated and impossible to react to even with [Heavenly Eyes]. The few times Melody caught her, the elf’s countered attack with an overclocked fist which hurt worse than anything Melody ever ate. Rem often talked about this possibility, but Luxinna’s limit meant she never able to pull this perfected movement off until now. It was to perfect combination of everything the elf’s accomplished. Surge of [Override] strength, Mach-13 manoeuvre tied together by the control room that was [Overflow]. A fist sparkled with golden glitter sent Melody flying the blue sky. Melody’s view of sky and ocean flipped several times before receiving knee in the stomach which emptied her lunch. A kick punted her solar plexus. A flying punch sent her flying through the cloud. Another fist followed. [Wing] was helping her stabilized, but she couldn’t maintain any resemblance of balance against such speed, precision, and power. Not oven with [Heavenly Eyes]. Melody felt a hand palming her into the face, then her eyes and stomach lurched from the change in G-force. Then nothing. The nausea was halted, and the demoness found her self suspended above the ocean. Her face was inside a gauntlet’s grip. Then before her very eyes the glass faceplate obscuring the elf face broke. … Luxinna recognized the Asian guy applauding her. The WORLD. “That trail is ridiculous.” “I understand,” he nodded. “But you need to learn the lesson to cross this Threshold.” “What lesson? I doubt I learn anything.” The WORLD smiled. “How did it feel to fight your alternate version?” “It fucking horrible.” “Do you want anyone else to suffer the same fate?” Luxinna finally got it. “So, you want me to know what it feels like to be under my fist.” The WORLD sighed and patted Luxinna’s head. “A power to inspire hope could easily slip to inspire fear. The god. The elf. The Church. And countless morons across the Multiverse fail to grasp this easy fact. Normally, it is not a problem, because they weren’t too much of threat. But dear, you are different. You don’t understand what you will do yet. You don’t know your strength. If you forget the consequence — or let your negative emotion control your action — forget the World Enemy, the multiverse won’t survive. Remember today. Remember that inside you is a capacity for destruction. Respect that darkness and remember how you use it reflect who you are.” Luxinna got more question. “Hey, what is this Legend anyway. I know its kick my ass and my alter ego said it made the elves obsolete, but what is it.” WORLD produced a scientific illustration of a cell. “Life. Through ages, your people are deeply connected to this,” he waved the image of the smallest unit composing the body. “They channel it, worship it and praise it, but their understanding of this power is lacking. It is a cellular structure, Lux. Your first Legend granted the ability of [Static Glass] to possess any property. Your second turned it into a True Magic base living-organism — the [Bioglass].” “You mean my [Static Glass] is alive.” “Alive as a part of you. It basically acted like your cell, but under your every command.” “So how do I use it?” The WORLD rolled his eyes. “Oh lord, well, to answer that question, find Ehto Shaxter and ask him to run test. I don’t need to give you more idea with Rem and Ehto running your R&D department. Now, it is time for you to wake up and help take out a certain annoying AI.” … Luxinna woke up to find herself about to crush Melody's skull like a watermelon. The elf glanced at the steaming ocean that housed their brawl and the battered state of her rival before mouthing one response. “I win!” Melody blew her top. “Win my ass! You only push me this far by getting hel—” The water beneath them exploded into a shower of tides. It appeared Rem was too optimistic about his ‘checkmate’.

Luxinna emptied everything in her mind. With the familiar hilt of [Historia] nested in her palm, she couldn’t stop smiling. Oh, how she missed her partner. She lost count of times she wished for this blade during the battle with her alter ego. Luxinna doubted [Historia] alone could tip the unfavorable balance she faced during her trail, but struggling without it felt like she got kneecapped. Now with her weapon in hand, Luxinna was ready to show the world why the Dawn called her the Ace. … “Hey, is she going to be fine!” Magnolia shouted at Cytortia and Hikma. “You just sent her all alone.” Hikma answered instead of Cytortia who was busily nursing the out-of-count Melody. “Just watch. It is her showtime.” … Luxinna took a quick note of the situation. Without Melody dragging her down, and the survivor tucked safely beneath Cytortia’s protection, there was nothing nerfing her. And unlike the time with 33 Stars, she wouldn’t need to take it easy. [Overflow] Information flooded Luxinna’s brain. Yep, she got accessed to all her original ability, and some extra from [Bioglass]. Luxinna gritted her teeth. Her newest armor was peppered with special functions, but with how new it was, she barely understood much less operate it. The best she could do was used it like a good old armor, but with some add-on. Through [Overflow], she observed PALISADE unleased another artillery round. Her mind quickly plotted her path through the raining fires, identified a brief potential sniping moment, and rounded out an escape route. Time resumed. And the elf became a streak of lightning.  She slipped past countless downpour of energy, navigating with such velocity that seemingly exempt from the G-Force. Right. Left. Left. Then a narrow bypass. The elf easily maneuvered past PALISADE’s countless attack, transformed [Historia] into a bow, and open fire with a fully loaded [Serene Glass] arrow packed to the brim with power. The arrowed flew in the discharge that hit force worth 250 tons of TNT. Boom! She wove her way into another opening and fired. Boom! Then again. … PALISADE was speechless. Approximately 2000 bolts of Magnus Crystal lasers and it accomplished nothing. That thing coordination was perfect, but the power output release and her speed didn’t match. The surrounding explosion was a solid A-ranker’s work, but the movement of that specimen was within the realm of S-ranker. Something didn’t line up. Somehow the subject it fought displayed the greater speed than her station implied. She didn’t display a sign of forbidden technique or signature effect of limit-break. PALISADE could only deduce one reason she could display such feat. The girl was circumventing the usual reflex cycle by simulating the event before it happened and programmed her neuron to react accordingly. It was a technique to optimize her movement and included an incredibly complex internal electrical manipulation. Her explosive speed and power occurred not through overriding her muscle’s natural limit, but via fully using every muscle to fuel each action. It wasn’t limit break but super-muscle control that shouldn’t won’t be possible without carefully tuning her entire body like an instrument. PALISADE must admit that girl’s mind was akin to supercomputer to simulate those attack patterns and planned out her movement down to the last neuron, but such technique had a weakness. That was it. A slight pause every 3 seconds, and then there was a classic weakness in total commitment. … Luxinna got the scare of her life when a laser nearly hit her in the face. Shit. There was no other conclusion. PALISADE understood [Overflow]. Sure, pre-emptively predicted attack-plan then focusing all her nervous system to implement it at superhuman speed made her much faster than many opponents in her grade. But there was a limit on how far she could foresee. The window that [Overflow] end was the point she was opened, as she wouldn’t be able to formulate another [Overflow] immediately. Rem called this the 3-seconds opening. Then there was a more alarming weakness. Luxinna went into another [Overflow], calculated her attack-pattern and proceeded. PALISADE already expected this and launched a high-speed laser-attack that grazed Luxinna in the perfect spot it manipulated her to pass. Immediately knocking from Luxinna from [Overflow] state and left her open for another two shots of high-speed laser. Luxinna’s [Aura] tank those attacks, but the elves were forced to dive underwater to escape the continuing bombardment. Luxinna swallowed a scream of pain. So those were Magnus Sin Crystal. It felt like someone was rubbing a knife down her spine. But she got a bigger problem. PALISADE cracked the two weaknesses of [Overflow]. The 3-second opening was a huge pain to deal with but worst was the total commitment. [Overflow] clutched on her ability to simulate and predict the attack paths. But a highly skilled opponent who understood [Overflow] as a concept could tailor their response to create a right opening to launch a quick surprise attack outside her calculation. Rem once beat her that way by hiding a tiny flash band and left an opening in his counterattack. The flashbang knocked her out of [Overflow] because of unexpected sensory overload. It was how her alter-ego defeated her speed; by moving faster than [Overflow] could keep up. And when that interruption happened, her brain would blank, leaving her frozen for comboing. Luxinna’s overwhelming powers was a trade-off. [Override] granted power at an expense of paying for breaking the limit with pain. [Overflow] optimized her efficiency and action speed, but cashed in on total commitment and vulnerability when the odds backfire. The elf groaned. After this battle was over, she needed to readjust her battle tactic again. It was time to swallow her pride and properly asked Cy’s opinion. Luxinna transformed [Historia] into a sword. She couldn’t hold her breath much longer, but she still got more trick PALISADE didn’t know about. Yes, she couldn’t properly use this armor, but there was still a neat function she could use. Who knew this armor housed a self-populating [Bioglass] micro-organism that constantly siphoned multiverse power and stockpiled for usage? Luxinna grinned. Okay, kiddo plankton, time to make mommy proud. The power flowed into Luxinna, and she quickly converted it into a familiar compress liquid glass. … “What are you doing!?” Artos yelled at Cytortia. “She is down.” “Wow,” gasped Melody. “That rich coming from an ungrateful backstabber.” “He is right? Shouldn’t you be doing something?” Commander Serina sneaked in another crimson missile that didn’t do a damn thing against PALSADE. “Your friend just went down.” “Well, that isn’t such a bad thing,” whispered Sorin Enma who was still smart about getting his ass kicked. “You don’t need to worry,” Hikma finally got back on his feet. “Yeah, just watch,” Cytortia said. Right on cue, the ocean swelled with golden light, and the knight holding a golden sword emerged on a golden Lotus. … The machine was ready for Luxinna's entrance. Countless drones and artillery lasers poured down, but they didn’t expect to greet Luxinna’s glowing sword which extended to meet them. [Jewel Sword: Extension] One swing from that gigantic golden blade stretching to the sky like the staff from the cosmos extinguished all the cyan projectiles, swallowing them whole like whale chowing the planktons. The beacon of light also consumed the coming drones in a swipe of that majestic blade, radiating heat and electricity as ozone overwhelmed the air. Anything which survived the net of destruction faced an intercepting fire from four [Assault Flora] fanning the elf. Light and friction painted the sky in a contest of firepower, and for PALISADE’s expectation were once again surpass. Both sides were almost equal, but neither had the patience to trade blow like this forever PAISADE charged its main orbital canon. Luxinna released her strongest attack — the [Jewel Sword: Salvation]. Cyan and gold light collided in the air. A para-causal particle beam clashed against a quantum-state of hyper dense Mana augmented by high-purity Magnus Sin Crystal. … It was the battle that shook the sky. “What the fuck are those two monsters?” Amitate’s hair raised on end. He got no doubt he would be killed immediately in the direct fight against those two. “No way…” Mamacia Cocogar were utterly dumbfounded by the display of raw power which parted the cloud at their ground zero. “She was holding back the entire time?” Sorin Enma lost his word. He simply stared, dumbfounded, at the contest of mind-blowing power. “Duh,” Melody recovered enough to make a spicy jab at Cocogar. “Of course, she held back against you. Who the hell bought a gun to a kiddie fight? If Ace is as murder-happy as you are, there won’t be any space left in the morgue.” Then Melody stumbled upon the truth. “Wait, you actually believe you can beat her?” Silence answered that question. Originally, the 33 Stars believed their declaration was achievable, but now reality came knocking in revelation that their object of scorn was showering them with mercy for an entire fight. Against what they saw Luxinna accomplished, the notion of revenge become the cried of overconfidence it was. It was the Chronicler who put the 33 Stars lofty ambition into a frame. “People often said I am too humble for my good, and I can’t see anything wrong with that,” Hikma said. “Still. I think chasing for pointless revenge is a vanity. There are literally a thousand other issues that could be accomplished instead of looking for payback for hurt pride. Sure, you could come at me and Ace a thousand times, but — pardon my arrogance — you aren’t even in the picture. You might spend your life trying to get us, but we won’t be staying still with people to save. Truth is, we are nowhere powerful enough. The very fact we can’t save everyone crying out for help is a proof of that.” “But that is impossible! What you are saying is ridiculous? Saving everyone is idealistic nonsense that defies the very reality! Are you all insane?!” It was an entrenched call from Magnolia, accompanied by the cyan light of PALISADE slowly engulfing the Luxinna’s golden shine. It was the pinnacle excuse underpinning her very being. “Sure, we admit it. The goal we are chasing is lofty, but…” … In the distance, Luxinna's feet skidded back from the Newtonian law of reaction, overcoming the friction grounding her. Shit. PALISADE increased its output and slowly shifting the equilibrium. Luxinna gritted her teeth, she needed more power and faster. At an alarming speed, the cyan glowed brighten in her vision as the radiant of gold shrank. The overwhelming downpour of cyan light was dwarfing the power of Luxinna’s [Salvation] which struggled to keep its light. So Luxinna went all in. She sent an order to her armor. Every micro-organism housed in the oval node began conducting power at overtime. Luxinna narrowed the area of her beam to better focus its power and broke every [Assault Flora] she got to scrape the bottom barrel of her power. The shining armor burst like golden stars as she heaped her power-stockpiled energy into the furnace and launched a colossal surged of power parting PALISADE light in momentum backed by the speed of sound. Golden light echoed across the sky, pushing its way through the opposing beam and turning the sky golden. [Salvation] slammed into PALISADE without a pause. The AI’s sensor went bananas at the energy sensor it received. PALISADE clenched its metaphorical teeth and launched every of its generator to shield itself from oblivion. … The crowd watched the golden beam of super accelerated particle scattered the quantum cannon and painted the sky in luxurious gold. There were slack-jawed at the raw might being put on display and thus none of them but a single vampire notice his approach. Serina felt a familiar feeling. It was a feeling of reassurance she never felt in a long time. But that wasn’t something to celebrate. That kind of reassuring aura was projected to mask immense guilt and loneliness. An obligation for the leader to remain as a pillar and smiled even when their blood paved the road to victory. Serina couldn’t stand that self-sacrificing nature. She despised it. “Great job. You give us an excellent opening.” Serina cringed. No one else could feel it. It took time for her to notice the subtle turmoil within that kind of tone, but she got practices. She didn’t even want such skill, but the image of her past couldn’t stop playing on repeat. It was all too familiar; immense willpower propelled on self-hatred, enduring the misery for others. Serina felt like she knew the person beside her all her life, without the need of a single conversation. That presence enraged her. She turned to see the man dressed in black with a mask shielding his identity. … Rem’s telepathic plan was clear, and the Dawn, finally recovered enough to stand, finally spun into motion. “Finally!” Melody yelled and crafted two javelins with [Burning Asura: Nuclear Forge]. “Where the hell have you been all this time!” It was then everyone notice the final member of the dawn. “There is another one!” Sorin screeched. “They keep popping like cockroach…” Mamacia cried. “Just where do these guys come from…” Rem totally ignored their existences and raised his gun. “Ehto, buddy, are you sure this would crack the shield.” “Yes, but you must be exact with both shots.” “No problem. Everyone on my signal!”  “How are you planning to bring that thing down with that tiny weapon?” Serina couldn’t help herself from being antagonistic. “With teamwork. Seriously, if you ate too much nitroglycerine, you will gain weight.” Rem pulled the trigger, while Serina held herself from strangling the boy in front of her. “First, I am not fat. Second, it is me who should be asking how much depressant you are taking!” … PALISADE felt Rem’s first shot shattered by a small gap inside its barrier. The AI noticed a strange signature. A modified round that exploited the weakness created by piling the energy to its frontal barrier. It was when PALISADE dismissed the threat that the second round sailed past that tiny cracked and hit it. The presence of Ehto invaded. It was an evolved form of the chemical attack which wrestled the control of the facility from the AI. The bastard was still alive and able to bridge Ehto consciousness with his own to create a bullet to repeat those mental invasions. Against classic AI built from code, Rem attack would yield nothing but Astral construct like PALISADE could still be hampered by psychic attack. PALISADE quickly squashed the invasion, but Rem succeeded. In that instant, the fortified Spatial barrier protecting it went down like shattered glass. PALISADE quickly tried to reform the barrier, but its concentric-ring of shield generators were locked in place by telekinetic force. It must be that masked bastard again. To drive the stake further down PALISADE’s throat, Melody blasted from the ground, tossing her javelins into the joint connecting those shield generators. In two explosions, that all too vital ring got blasted off its hinges, and fell into the ocean in flashes of fire and smoke. The development happened in an instant, but it was the winning move. PALISADE could dish one-sided beating through the combination of its superior fire-power and advance defenses. With its main barrier disable, the AI was dragged down to fair competition. Even so, it didn’t give up. PALISADE was ready to open fired. Alas, without that shield, Horizon wasn’t having it. Several massive [Aegis] courtesy of Hikma locked it in place, with a spectral chain of light tying the lid of its artilleries shut, Melody flew into the air, jousting with a forged lance of flames and impaled the battle-satellite main orbital canon. The steel sank in, destroying the Magus Sin Crystal emitter in a burst of burnt electronic and black smoke. PALISADE’s thruster went out via some critical malfunction courtesy of telekinetic meddling. It was a massacre — a gang-beating. One Horizon Dawn’s combatant was enough to give S-rank a fight, but all of them supported by Cytortia. Yeah, it wasn’t pretty. PALISADE only lasted that long because the Dawn was caught unprepared, beaten in Melody’s case, and saddled with hostages. Its spatial barrier were few things that could stop Rem’s [Tenshou] and resisted Hikma’s [Conceptual Construct]. Once those advantages slipped from its grasp, PALISADE was done. Still PALISADE still hung on to hope, it reinforced core could sustain damage. That hope last until its sensor spot Luxinna high above with a bolt of lightning that took out Trimegal in her palm. [Edge of ADA] It was the lighting that sunder the cosmos. 

Melody didn’t have time to answer her question. The exoskeleton covered elf was upon her like that supercharged attack did nothing. The demoness dodged several claws and parried the coming thrust. Attacks were weaved expertly, and Melody narrowly nullified all of them until Luxinna followed her low-kick with a side-kick right from the ground. Melody blocked the blow, but the force sent her skidding back. Not wasting an opening, Beast Luxinna leapt to the air, smashing down with her entire power. The demoness raised her halberd to tank the drop. The collision sent dust bellowing as inhuman strength struggled for supremacy. Melody heard the creaked as her forged weapon started bending. Luxinna’s exoskeleton expanded and contracted like a heart, bringing more strength with every cycle. With each oscillation, Melody felt the weight behind the spear rose alarmingly. It was undeniable. The mechanical strength behind that arm was rising to match her. Melody didn’t want to know the total cap in Luxinna’s strength output given how her hand struggled to lift the rapidly deforming halberd. Experience and knowledge taught her she didn’t want to invest much sweat in a competition where she couldn’t see the end goal. [Burning Asura: Melting Sky] It was the final evolution of [Burning Asura Sky]. After the group finally nailed Orwell, Melody found herself with enough time as a resource to further improve on her prototypical explosive moves. Now the technique incorporated mass-to-energy conversion to release a controlled explosive energy that could apply to wider scale. Originally, she could turn roughly 3g of blood crystal into a 50-kiloton explosive, but a better grasp of her technique allowed her to graduate from higher mass of different material. She was now up to 45 g. Sure that was a tiny amount but it still a 1000 kiloton. Melody was no-where good enough to start that level of [Anima Enchanting] on a bigger scale. Her Magical Stat, proficiency, raw initiator and experience won’t allow her to launcher bigger explosion. Hell, even if Mel could throw a nuke, she would blow herself up before even aiming that kind of power. But 1 Megaton of TNT was still something people shouldn’t laugh about.  The halberd Melody held transformed on the lance of heat and light. … The entire base shudder. … “What is that?” Cytortia asked in a quaking darkened room of wooden cargo and murky wall. “Melody drops a nuclear-powered death ray,” Rem coughed as the automatic door to answer open. “Luxinna will probably tank that attack, but it won’t do anyone a favor.” “Now should we meet our new collaborator.” … The cyan light blinked in panic. It wasn’t expecting this level of conflict. Luckily the last attack was funneled in a control explosion, but it still caused a conical ray which disintegrated 20% of the facility and crippled countless systems. The attack blasted the tunnel from the mustering area, melted the eastern production ring and blew its way to the ocean. If left unattended, this would cause irreparable damage and flooding. But there are still silver-lining: several aquatic robots were already dispatched to repair the hull and the anti-water wards were perfectly functioning. The facility was badly damaged from a single attack, but the operational analytic was still working. Still, it would be foolish to believe that would be the end. Time to speed the processing and analytic. Then the sensor connected to the facility detected something incredible. Something was shooting toward the facility through the water at Mach speed. Its artificial intelligence barely believed the truth relay by its sensor. The monster was still alive and somehow launched herself back to the facility at a superhuman speed. The artificial intelligence automatically deployed the facility barrier. The wall of translucent energy should keep the beast out to suffocate underwater. However, somehow the malicious program couldn’t help but feel that a barrier wasn’t enough. … The barrier kept Beast Luxinna out. This was partly thanked to the damage from Melody’s all-out attack. It was without a doubt the greatest damage the monstrous being suffered. However, the exoskeleton imprisoning the elf wasn’t something that could be broken with mere megaton. It contained four sophisticate layers. The outermost chitin was a thin, ultrahigh hardness layer impenetrable to most forces. The layer below was the thick fibrous-layer that acted as a tear resistant, high-toughness protection against anything penetrating from the first layer. Serina got to this layer. Melody’s explosion one-upped that attack and reached the third-layer. The third contained a reactive armor similar to Luxinna’s [Guard Flora], using explosive to nullify the impact. It was the third-layer that successfully blocked lethal damage from Melody, protecting the fourth-layer, which contained life-support and energy reserves. The explosion knocked the monster out of the facility into the cold sea, but it was still kicking. Beast Luxinna, suspended in ocean, healed its damaged armor and electromagnetically rocketed back to the facility with vengeance. The monstrous slammed into the barrier with the force that sent shock waves rippling throughout the ocean. She landed punch after punch into the translucent shield. She kept the barrage without the need of oxygen, propeling herself using the power of the ionize particle her exoskeleton emitted. The exoskeleton cladded elf disregarded the water pressure or the temperature and continued to wail on the barrier with electricity cladded fist. Each fist she landed only enraged the entity. Raw punches and claws didn’t generate the force needed to penetrate the barrier. In that frustration the monster felt something bled from the depth of its mind, the image of the girl practicing a technique in a valley. The monster instinctively knew this was the answer. Luxinna stretched her hand, growing a thick blade of glass. With the weapon grasped in hand, she plunged the glass claymore into the barrier. Super-heated liquid glass swirled in a hyper velocity, super-hot vortex. The glass and barrier met, sending bubbles and sparks rippling across the darkness of water. It took a moment, but the obvious eventually happened. Golden blades of drilling vortex sank into the shield and wore it down. … Inside the mental landscape, Luxinna flew into a rock surface and broke the cliff. Blood trickled down her face as her golden armor crumbled around her. The elf could barely stand, but she propped herself upright despite the red puddle forming from the blood trickling down her body. Sadly, raw determination didn’t save the elf from her corrupted version flying at her like a torpedo. The collision shook the cliff, sending the dust cloud flying. Luxinna felt the high kick up her chin and the world turn upside down again. It should be transparent that clearing the trail by combat is impossible. … “Whew,” Melody huffed, staring at the massive hole she created with that explosion. It was like watching a tunnel leading to an aquarium. A growing anti-flooding ward separated the facility from the sea water. The demoness internally whistled. Those were decent ward. Melody realized that attack wasn’t enough. She didn’t know how she arrived at the conclusion, but a depth of her soul realized the fight was too easy. Worst, she finally glued the clue together. “Hey!” Melody yelled at the group huddling behind her. “Those morons are still alive, right?” “They are,” Hikma's response was flat and to the point. “Okay, did our little juggernaut perform anything that broke magical norm?” “Eh,” Magnolia glanced between the two heroes. “Why are you asking?” “Kiddo, I got no time to explain,” Melody’s terrible hunch was growing by the second. “Just answer the damn question.” “Err…” One girl amongst the crowd waved her hand. “Go on. Just shouted what she did.” “Eh, the monster absorbed the Holy Church’s [Sanctification Spire].” “How?” Melody shouted. “Give me detail.” “She… grew a bunch of golden flowers from it.” Lightning flashed through Melody’s brain. “It can adapt to stimulus,” Melody muttered. “Growth, reproduction, energy production and now adaptation to stimulus, so it is alive. If that thing evolved abilities to photosynthesize holy attribute light, it should be able to adapt to underwater environment.” It was then the Melody caught sight of a golden star erupting in the distance. Her [Heavenly Eyes] gave her all the information she needed. She took note of the golden sword performing what akin to [Jewel Sword] and arrived at a dreadful theory. The monster possessing Luxinna was slowly absorbing her skills in combination with its own. It ripped through several 33 Stars and gave her trouble without Luxinna's EAPS and skills. If her power-set got combined with those raw powers, then they would seriously have a severe crisis on hand. Melody brainstormed several options. Her opponent possessed the ability to produce weapon and protection of near infinite property, adaptation ability against almost any scenario, advances defense that powered through punishment after punishment and abilities to produce near bottomless amount of energy. She needed Hikma’s help to have a chance, but then what? Could they protect the remaining survivors against the mysterious entity while suppressing Luxinna? She doubted the mastermind played all its cards yet. She couldn’t take any chance. Someone she trust must protect the survivors. Melody drafted her plan. She must take the rampaging elf off the board and keep her occupied. Oh, she won’t be able to beat the elf without extra help, but she could buy time. “Chronicler, I am leaving them in your hand,” flames erupted from Melody. “I am going to keep her distract. The rest is on you.” At that moment a shining light exploded from the translucent barrier and humanoid cladded in glass exoskeleton blasted back into the base. Aquatic drones intercepted her mid-descent only to explode in a flash of gold. The elf punched through the anti-water wards, barely fazed by the rapid transition of water pressure. The golden beast shot toward Luxinna like a golden arrow with the glass blade in hand. [Dragon Manifestation] Tower of flames swirled, and a punch cladded in hand covered with black scale hammered the cheap glass blade to smithereen. … Magnolia couldn’t believe anything else would surprise after all the shit making up today. Then she saw her. Drakokia’s name represented the elf’s glory. The hope to resurfaced to their age of glory led by Mia Alusto. As children of nature, they were superior to all races, and they knew it. It was the example her father displayed to remind the world why the elf — through bloodline, longevity, and history — was fit to rule the Earth alongside the gods. Reality was cruel and choices must be made to secure the need of the many. As the closest to Magic, the Elven race was tasked with overseeing those sacrifices. But that ‘truth’ crumbled in the flames brighter than sun and the wing of cosmic sky emerging from the curtain of flames. It was ridiculous. How that one image shattered the basis for every lecture by her father. But that was the truth. How could anyone dare boast their inherent superiority before the wing of cosmos and the aura of primordial star? The scales danced with a twinkling jewel of million encapsulate light. Longevity? Sure, the elf was second only to the gods in lifespan, but they were nothing to the vast galaxies and wide universes. Magnolia got to witness the power she never experience, and it reminded her that despite their accomplishment, they still knew nothing. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” She glanced at the man in the helmet. “She possesses the might and beauty of a spacefaring dragon. In all aspects, she is the definition of majesty and power, but that inherent beauty is just surface glance at her. I will say her title fits her the most when she strives against someone who truly matches her power.” Hikma continued as the fires and lightning warped. “My friend and your sister told me you are the type who use reality to defend your tendency to throw away any ideal in pursue of victory.” Magnolia wanted to retort, but Hikma’s kindly teacher tone strangled her excuses. “They believe in the opposite, you know. They see reality as a grindstone to polish themselves and their ideals rather than an excuse to hide behind. They see the impossible situation as an opportunity to grow a way out — the type who solves the trolley problem by derailing the track, or in Empress’ case, beat the problematic trolley to death.” Boom! Magnolia attempted to response was interrupted by the blowing wind. … Two fists, one covered in glass and another in scale of starry sky, collided and released shock-wave which knocked everything in their proximity on their back. Beast Luxinna attempted to sweep Melody’s footing with her tail, but the Empress was ready for it. She easily stepped on the glass tails, pinned it to the steel floor, and rained superstrength punches on the armor body. The demoness’ punches were focused and precise, leaving no chance for the entity possessing Luxinna to mount a counter. After eating the thirtieth fist, the beast sprouted spikes over the chitin exoskeleton, but still missed an important spot beneath the chin. The superpower uppercut blasted the malicious beast to the ceiling where she collided with a bang. Melody rocketed after her, smashing the beast through the ceiling, all while strengthening her own scale with [Anima Enchanting]. With her protection prevented a crippling injury, Melody slamed her fist against the barb armor. The blood trickling from her fist didn’t deter the heroine at all. Melody followed the punch with a super-strength fist that launched Luxinna past a layer of steel, another flying punch sent her crashing into a maintenance tunnel, one more draconic right hook that drove her into the domed aquarium they were first transport in. Beast Luxinna fired several shards of glass at Mach speed to stop Melody’s combo, but unlike the actual Luxinna, it lacked experience fighting in mid-air or any 3D maneuvering combat. Melody — who regular dealt with [Assault Flora] — easily evaded the counterattack and grabbed the beast by the tails and tentacles. In homage to an age-old superhero, she spun Luxinna by her tentacles and threw her back into the ground after piling on several decent rotations. The ground magnificently exploded in dust and metal. Luxinna blasted back through layers of steel walls, maintenance tunnels and returned to the mustering area in cratering collision — causing Aryssa to trip and the barely awakened Artos Sevar and Sorin Enma to yelp like a panic cheerleader. Melody came crashing down like a fiery comet, flooring Luxinna before the screaming Magnolia. Faster than Amitate could curse, the demoness lifted her by the tail and threw the elf skyward. The exoskeleton cladded elf fired an ion laser down onto Melody, who flew through the beam with her [Aura]. Melody grappled her opponent in mid air and jetted Luxinna to the ground, pile-driving her through the thick steel flooring and into the facility’s storage chamber. The two tumbled into the storage room and rose again to exchange blows, resulting in several shock-waves that turned the glass and wooden storage cases to kindling. Beast Luxinna landed a slice which glance Melody’s abdomen, but it was a deliberate opening. The Empress entangled Luxinna’s arm, swept the monster’s leg using her draconic wing, and flipped her flying into the far wall with full-body toss. She then followed suit in a supersonic flight which blasted all surviving breakable containers in the room to smithereens. Beast Luxinna growled, shooting half a dozen tentacles to intercept Melody's assault, but as mentioned earlier, Melody’s flying experience was way ahead of her. She evaded the first tentacles by the hair-breath, knocked another aside, folded herself into her wing, and performed a flame-cladded barrel roll to slip past the remaining attacks. The demoness closed into Luxinna in a blink and gripped her by the head. Melody blasted into the far wall of the storage room, dashed the berserker through the metal wall and into the ocean in a collision that rocked the buildings. [Pyro Lorde] … Beast Luxinna felt the cold depth of water again, and with her enhance reflexes, she reoriented herself in times. Sadly for her, it didn’t matter. A massive, impossible to avoid column of flames surfaced from the underwater depth and plowed into her. The flames carried the beast above the deep. She felt herself breaking the calm sea and the warm glow of the afternoon sun. The berserker fell toward the blue ocean and growled in annoyance. She slammed into the ocean surface and created a floating platform of glass to carry her on the sea. She glared as her opponent exploded from the water in a tower of foam, unfurling the wing of a wondrous cosmos in all its glory. Crowned in bones and draconic visage, Melody only had one thing to say. “Now, it is really one-on-one. Let see who drops first.”

Last night came to pass.  Finally, after so many debacles, Rem was ready to receive some real training. It only took him one peeping accusation, a truth serum, a goddess's self-esteem, and one honey badger on a week of cleaning chores to get here. Keep this up, and Rem might find himself destroying Spain's economy to save the world. But let leave such possibilities tomorrow, he had another problem now. Both Rem and the goddess sat fully dressed in a traditional cotton gi. However, unlike Rem's white traditional uniform, Cytortia went for a green cotton jacket and yellow drawstring trouser. The depressed goddess even put on a Eucalyptus perfume and tied her hair back into a ponytail. But no matter what she tried, the emotional bruises remained. Unperturbed by all opinions, the honey badger strolled between them as she gave the lecture. "Normally, I will break the basics in your brain before reconstructing it back correctly. However, time is a luxury we don't have. I love my windpipe unstrangled. so we will have to get creative." Rem looked up. He sensed a disaster looming in the distance. That air of foreboding down his neck was anything but reassuring. This situation was as bad as the dark days of Justin's concert. Rem nodded with nostalgia. It'd only been a day, but he already missed the time his worse fear was the class president ear-raping YMCA.  Meanwhile, the young goddess beside him felt a distinct type of dread entirely. "Is this the reason you asked me about my awakening circle last night?" Oh no. Rem finally worked out the badger's plan. It'd been transparently clear when he fleshed it out. Their little group faced the deck stacked taller than Mt. Fuji with only one advantage to play. "You plan to ask Satholia for cheat code," Rem stated, trying not to bolt out of the room. He believed he should. He was a genuine pig for this project, and lab animals, as a rule, existed to die for the experiment. "Am I hearing this right or the Queen of Shadow finally ran out of egos?" Cytortia smirked. The badger didn't like that smirk one bit. "Don't look at me like that!" Scathach tore off her hair. "Training you two for this type of mission in a week is ridiculous. The only conceivable method to move forward is asking someone good enough to kick the shit out of an entire pantheon to do it!" "How do you do that?" Cytortia asked in confusion. "Do you even have her address?" "No," the badger admitted, "but I have this." Scathach drew a magic circle in front of the two and started her explanation. "This awakening process is designed to jump-start your mana generator. Mana is the energy produced by the life-force of living creatures.  It fuels our spell, and its quantity had to do with race and lineage. That was what we know about it." Rem's head perked up with interest, while Cytortia's eyebrows scrunched in a frown. "Was?" Cytortia asked. "Past tense?" "Satholia's battle on Olympus broke the fundamental theory on Mana Capacity. She shouldn't be able to contact during the awakening procedure without breaking the law of magic. These points to the conclusion that the long-held fact that the awakening process activated the mana generator, namely Mana Core, is incorrect." Scathach showed them the diagram of an articulate hexagon. "This sigil is a modified version of your awakening circle, designed to link your consciousness with your Mana Core. If your boss is listening, maybe she would..." Rem walked into the middle of the circle with no hesitation. "Let do it." Rem whispered. "It's worth the risk." Scathach hesitantly charged the circle as the shadow of doubt veiled over the room like a dusk light. The blue glow filled the gym. .. Once the glow faded, Rem founded himself in a strange world. The soil beneath his feet was crumbly white chalk. From the bleached sand grew the carpet of blood-color poppies, contrasting against the starless black sky of this silent world. A funeral was more lively than this place. But even in that pit, one source of light still stood proudly. A white tower floated in the air, radiating multicolor morning light from the window at the celestial spire. It was a shining spiraling needle of ceramic with sharp spear tips on both ends. At its midpoint, the circlet of shining aurora encircled the spires like a crown of an overlord. "Beautiful isn't?" said a familiar voice. Rem turned to see a boy with his gray eyes and brown hair waving at him in the distance. "You..." "Yes, me," the child-age Rem Breaker smiled sweetly. He strutted toward Rem, kicking up the blood-red poppies with childish innocence. Rem instinctively knew something was different this time. A sense of conflict pressed his skin; a disaster was coming. The younger version of himself looked too real, more competent, and — most of all — more powerful.  It began in an instant. The younger Rem drew a blade of rainbow light and rushed at Rem in a burst of red petals. His sword fell in an overhead blow. Unperturbed, Rem caught the child despite his speed, intercepting the boy's sword-hand mid-swing and held him in place. The younger Rem struggled, grunting as his sword crackled to nothingness. After this failure, he only had resentment left.  "What next?" The child sneered. "Let me guess: a punch in the f--.” A punch cracked the youth in the teeth before he even finished. With another grunt, the child summoned another light sword with his free hand and slashed, forcing Rem to drop him. "Oww," the boy rubbed his tooth. "You go for a haymaker as expected, as expect for a true Superman-fanboy. Father will be so disappointed in you!" The reckless child charged. Rem peacefully waited, ignoring his aggressive rage-fueled ranting and reckless flurries. "The truth is you are nothing but Satholia's attack dog," the boy jumped, launching a spin kick that hit nothing. "Your cousin thinks you are an incomprehensible weirdo!" The boy charged for a slash and failed. "Your mother expects too much from you, while your father is a profiteering glory hound. Let be honest here! They prefer Jule more than you. Your parent pick an easily manipulatable junior activist over you!" Crash! Another light blade batted away the child's swing. A nutty scent of poppy detonated into the air, as the sword clashed and locked. Confetti of red-petals danced as the two personalities struggled for dominance. The desperate child looked into the empty gaze of his older self. Those eyes were devoid of anger, pain, and joy. In those gazes, only permanent void of disappointments existed. No, it was something far worse: acceptance. Acceptance belonging to a man who killed so many pieces of himself that he had attained the state of apathetic tranquility. "What if I am an unloved fanboy?" Rem replied, shoving his weight to break the blade lock. "Do the world stop moving when that happened? Nothing will change. Our lives are a meaningless blip of the universe. Complaining won't change anything." The younger Rem sprawled on to the ground, his light-blade dissipating. Undeterred, he flew up with a roar, conjured an extra sword, and poured in slashes after slashes. It was a randomize rage-fill storms of swordplay. "Accept it!?” The child laughed madly, his body stayed in motion, piling up attack after attack. "I know you recognize what I am! The fact that I exist proves that you never get over the fact that your parents preferred controllable puppets over their son. In the end, you are just a hypocrite who wants to burn society down for being the shit-stain of the earth." That was the moment the child's blade dissipated in a crackle of the rainbow mid-swing. The weightlessness of his hand caught the boy by surprise, and punch followed. Crack! A fist coated in an unstable aurora smashed his fingers. The child gulped as a hand snatched his neck in a grasp. "I see," Rem emotionlessly narrated as he slowly tightened his fingers. "Given that I have access to your ability the moment you used it, I guess you are what I expect you to be. And as expect, you are much more stupid than I am. So here are some lessons." Rem dropped the boy and punched him in the stomach. The impact sent the child flying at a speed of a rag-doll tied to a bus and slammed him into the white tower in a grunt of pain. "First, you forgot about your weapon's instability and failed to refresh it regularly," Rem said, leaping after his prey and delivering a flying stomp in the child's gut. The boy promptly vomited, but Rem wasn't done yet. "Second, your emotion is out of control. Your attacks are wild and predictable. But given how much I hate myself, and what a disappointment I am, that is understandable." Rem kicked the child into the tower's wall before he could finish falling to the ground. Unlike last time, it was blood instead of vomit that coughed out. "Let me teach you a word of wisdom: lashing the past is impractical. Our self-hate won't undo our failures. There is no point in resenting the idiots who preferred Claire's grade over her moral or Justin's dad's money over his spinelessness. Use that high energy to do something more productive." "You should notice who you are talking to." A stomp slammed into the boy's face, shutting him up. "I know," Rem grounded his boot. "That is why I am grinding your face instead of making noises. Action matter more than words, and your action doesn't bring humanity kicking and screaming to a fairer future. Hatred can be a powerful motivation if properly direct. I only channel mine to spite humanity's evil, and the winner speaks for itself." The boy stared in terror as Rem Breaker leaned closer, looking into his hate-filled eyes with total emptiness. "The basis of humanity’s evil is the fact that most humans are a selfish moron. What a sweet revenge it will be if one human sacrifice himself for the good of all to prove that true selflessness could exist. If evil can create good, then good will be eternal like evil, isn't it?" 'You... you are insane,' the younger Rem stuttered through his busted lip and a broken nose. The older Rem replied by slamming him headfirst into the wall. "That notion is why you lost despite your advantage," Rem ground the child's face with the sole of his foot without caring about the boy's pain. "Think about it. If you didn't show me the rainbow blade or your speed, I would never have the ability to beat the hell out of you like this. By the way, that is one of your mistakes; you reveal the card too early.” Rem lifted his hand, which started glowing in a dangerous shade of rainbow. Tornado of ruby-color petal rage as the power built.  The child clenched his eyes shut for the killing blow. "Anger didn't give you power," Rem apathetically said. "Humanity is evil. No need to pretend otherwise, but we can recognize our nature and grow from it. The world is not utopia. It can't be one because perfection shouldn't exist. You lost because you can't accept that notion like I have. You are resenting something that couldn't be changed, deal with it." Rem lifted the helplessly struggling boy and prepared an uppercut. "You are right. I am a hypocrite, but that doesn't matter as long as a good triumph. I might not be Superman, but as long as my sacrifice makes them believe in one, I will die happy." Rem swung his fist. 'Stop!' Rem stopped. The air shimmered as a girl materialized from the sky. She had rainbow-color hair, sharp feature, and the dress made of white fires. The girl surveyed the damage dejectedly; her voice rang like a spring season sun. 'By the authority of Queen Satholia, I order you to release the boy.' Rem hesitated. "Can you restrain him?" The girl nodded. Her sky-blue eyes looked at him with concern. Rem dropped the younger Rem to the floor. The child gasped and glared at the girl. "I don't need your help," he said ungratefully, 'You do,' the girl said. 'This is worse than I realize.' "Please learn to be more grateful?" Rem kicked the boy face-first into the tower with enough magical force to create an airburst. The younger Rem slid down powerlessly, dissipating into petals of poppies and golden like he never existed. "Now, that the trash is taken out," Rem turned toward the girl. "How bad is it?" 'You can't use [Arrival of Dream],' the girl stated her worse fear. "Explanation please," Rem stated. "What is it, and why can't I use it?" The girl began her explanation. '[Arrival of Dream] is your natural ability. It is one of the strongest of its kind. This ability allows you to bring forth any artifacts, creatures, or feats as long as you provide it with weakness, strength, and lore. The spiral tower behind us acts as a channel to summon these artifacts to reality by using your True Magic as a fuel. Moreover, the replica creates by this power is technically a real deal to the effect of [Reality Breaker (Ex)].' Rem's brain spun into high-gear. He could already think of a thousand different uses for this ability. [Arrival of Dream] was an endless arsenal that could adapt to any situation with his imagination being the only limit. But nothing in this world was free. "Is it had to do with this?" Rem summoned an unstable rainbow blade that dissipated away in a crack of lighting. 'Yes,' the girl sadly confirmed. 'That blade is your True Magic.  Unlike Skill, a person True Magic is something he received as a seed when he was born and mature into a mighty tree along with his world-view. Your Magic. It'd grown into a fragment of what it could be. I couldn't even name it. It possesses insane versatility and volatility. But despite the spitefulness, it is benevolent. These attributes result in unstable energy that couldn't be used to fuel the tower of at all.' Rem nodded. It appeared magical power reflected the user, and his mirror image was so oxymoronic that it couldn't function. "Are there any ways to fix the problem?" 'There is a way...' The girl looked at Rem guiltily. 'But you won't like it.' The girl told him and let us say he didn't like it at all. ... Rem woke up and shared his discovery of his closest allies. The three promptly concluded that the ritual transported Rem into the manifestation of his Mana Core. Cytortia was grinning ear to ear with this discovery. Rem expected he would see some new and improves the diagram soon. Although the quest to find Satholia ended in vain, Rem left with some benefit. First, the battle between him and his suppressed emotion taught him two fighting styles. First was an ability to enhance his body with his unique power. Although the unstable, and weren't as versatile as [Arrival of Dream], the technique was still an instinct ingrain into Rem's subconscious. A few practices later, and he would use it like he had trained for years. Then there was the sword skill used by younger Rem. It was neat, simple footwork built on deflection and slashes. Admittedly, those styles seemed to anchor with his magic enhancement. Like the reinforcement, he took to the blade-work like fishes in the water. Curious about this experiment, Cytortia also underwent the same subconscious ritual while Scathach honed Rem skilled through intense coaching.  So far, the goddess had no luck or progress with her training, much to her chagrin. At last, after six long days. The party arrived at the looming, spiritually lit forest of the elves. ... Rem Breaker Messenger Stat Str: 100 [E] End: 148 [E] Mag: 182 [D] Wis: 385 [C] Dex: 185 [D] Skill Active Arrival of Dream [N/A] Calm mind [A] Simplicity Blade [C] Magic Charge [B] Knife Throwing [D] Passive Territory [E] Reality Breaker [Ex] The Way of Optimism [N/A]

The four 33 Stars and their minions faced Hikma. Strangely enough, it was Hikma De Darwin — the prince of defense — who kicked the battle. [Paradiso] + [Necta Floral] Hikma threw the [Conceptual Seal] into the sky. The circle of True Magic bloomed into a flower which scattered the dust of vitality into the burnt forest, rejuvenating the damage and curing injuries caused by Amitate’s flames. The flowers then sprouted translucent roots which emitted a dome of energy, locking the 33 Stars inside with Hikma. Magnolia took the first moves with confusion. “A barrier and a healing?” Hikma shrugged. “I need to perform first aid to remedy the damage you cause. Can’t have our battle bother someone else.” Amitate giggled. “Wow! You realize you are imprisoning yourself together with us on purpose, right? Unbelievable. A bucket-head with nothing to your name actually have an audacity to care about surrounding trashes while being outnumbered.” Emily added. “Fool.” Artos Sevar tried a more diplomatic approach. If that man could nail A-rank magical beast and extinguishing Amitate’s [Devil Flame], fighting him would be too risky. Only two types of people locked themselves in a hopeless cage match; suicidally foolish or overwhelmingly confident. Sevar didn’t know which category did Hikma De Darwin fell under. Magnolia wasn’t that analytic. “Why are you fighting us? Don’t tell me it is for the critters in the forest?” Hikma sensed some recovering animals gazing worriedly at him. He waved. It was a massage telling them he would be fine. “Yeah, now that you mention it, I rarely ever fight for my sake. Technically, I am sent here to stop you from killing each other. Guess that mission succeeds. If you want to leave peacefully, then feel free. Everyone can walk out of this unharmed.” “Your naivety is disgusting.” Magnolia Drakokia was angry. “This conflict is inevitable. As long as the Demonic Continent exists, they will pose a threat to Phantasia. Suppressing those beasts and lording over them is a divine tradition of Lightwell, started by Mia Alusto herself. Generation of elves have bled to fulfill the Ancestral decree. Who are you to interfere?”  Hikma’s answers were short and concise. “A person who can’t stand and watch innocent blood shed to appease a decree that morally bankrupt.” Magnolia stood stiffly. “Morally bankrupt?” the elf’s voice was dangerously low. “You call our pride a moral degeneracy.” Winds raged and swirled, forming a massive lion of grey storms behind her. The lion's green eyes flashed with murderous intent trickled from its partner. “Kill him, Ourinaros!” The lion roared, unleashing the blast with the force of Tornado with its breadth. The power of storm collided with Hikma, releasing a massive gale inside the [Paradiso] cage. Several elves underlings were blown into the wall of [Paradiso] with a painful thump. Emily Aztellic cast a wall of white ice protecting her and Amitate. Artos Sevar summoned his water deer to conjure the wall of water protecting the troops behind him. Cloud of dust filled the translucent cage. “Dammit, 25h is pissed,” Amitate yelled. “Stupid shmuck triggers the brat to open with Ourinaros. No one could tank a blast from a S-rank spirit!” Artos Sevar grimaced. Although he ranked 2 seats higher than Magnolia, most of that was because of his mastery with blades and two A-rank spirits with army support. However, in raw destructive potential, Magnolia trumped him by a league with 4 specialized combat spirits. She even contracted advance spirit like Ourinaros, which boasted the potential to destroy an army. “Fool,” Emily Aztellic sighed. “Death is a mercy.” Then what was totally obvious to anyone who watched anime happened. “Wow,” Hikma walked out of the dust like he owned the entire wood. “There goes my doubt. Temperament aside, you share her ‘attack-with-overwhelming-power’ approaches to problem-solving. A friendly advice, plan before letting emotion took the reign. Unrestraint rage might get you kill, and your sister will give me an earful if that happens.” Magnolia froze as everyone watched the impossible happened. “What? My sister?” Hikma knew he planted doubt in Magnolia’s head. It was a trick he learned from Rem. Slipped the enemy a personal, sensitive but easily misdirected information to keep them off-kilter. “Oh nothing,” Hikma brushed. “I know Luxinna. We often chat about random staff. Lux talks about you a lot. In fact, I kinda expecting someone cuter.” “Wait,” Amitate smirked at the new information. “Magnolia has a sister.” “Unbelievable,” Emily Aztellic stoically stated. Magnolia clenched her fist. “Luxinna is supposed to be in the Lightwell forest,” Magnolia growled. “That is her sentence.” “Her sentence is exile. She can leave anytime and she did way back.” “You are lying,” Magnolia refused to believe the dreaded reality. “I am not,” Hikma answered honestly. “No need to worry about your heiress position. Your sister long found a purpose — a noble one — to live beyond your clan. She found another home.” “That is ridiculous!” Magnolia shouted in denial. “Luxinna belong to Lightwell! You are a fucking lair.” “You guys exiled her, right?” Hikma read Magnolia’s emotion with [Tenshou]. “Booted her away with only clothes on her back, even.” “Shut up!” “Magnolia! Calm down! He is trying to distract you.” In Hikma’s head, Rem’s voice spoke. Thanks for the read, Hikma. Now, follow my instruction. The surrounding fighters noticed the helmet man cocked his head to the side as if listening to a voice. “Sorry,” Hikma refocused on the battle. “A friend just contact me. Oh, he left a message for you, Magnolia.” Hikma recited accordingly. “If you believe the pipe-dream, you can smooth-talk daddy into giving your long-gone elder sister a tiny space in the servant quarter by being his favorite doll, think again. We don’t have ten years to suck that ass-hat’s ego. He is a dick and emulating his example won’t change that reality.” Hikma watched the verbal axe chopped the root of Magnolia’s motivational foundation. “Shut up,” Magnolia was on the verge of tears. “You don’t know us.” Hikma felt the desperation in her voice. The desperation of a long-term life-goal being dashed against an ice-berg. “I can’t imagine the effort you went to appease you father’s sensibilities, but sorry, your older sister isn’t waiting for your father's acceptance anymore. The Luxinna I know would die fighting your father than following your clan into degeneracy.” “You don’t know Luxinna!” “And you do? It is 3 years since you met. Do you know the current Lux? I don’t normally do crass, but the thought of my friend returning as your trophy makes me threw up in my mouth.” Magnolia stood like concrete. Her face downcast. “Ampule, Frost Thorn, Wood Wick, Ourinaros.” Magnolia screamed. 3 more spirits emerged around her; a mermaid, one gigantic green porcupine, and a snowflake ice sculpture joined the storm lions at their mistress’ behest. At the other end, Hikma completed the preparation he set up for a solid minute. “KIL—” [Geo Lorde] The ground beneath Magnolia vanished, dropping her into pit Hikma prepared since the first attack. After his battle with Orwell and the brief skirmish with Arden Christy, Hikma spent his times creating new [Conceptual Constructs] and mastering new Primal Arcane. With weeks stretched into years under Horizon Dawn’s DIY hyperbolic time-chamber, Hikma De Darwin officially became the best caster in the Dawn. Even top league 33 Stars couldn’t come close to Hikma. Among the new additional trick was the [Conceptual Construct: Terraforma]. A deployable enchantment that directly seized the control of the ground, channeling it directly to Hikma for manipulation and rapid [Conceptual Seal] deployment. Ourinaros’s first windblast created the smoke screen for Hikma to deploy [Terraforma] and slanted the field-advantage to him. The clash wasn’t even fair. Hikma was an unknown element — a vague myth — to the 33 Stars. They got no data on him. Meanwhile, Magnolia was Luxinna’s sister, a person the Dawn prepared to confront one day. Hikma was multi-tasking the entire conversation, preparing the perfect pit-fall trap to remove Magnolia. Gravity dragged Magnolia down into the two-meter-deep pit. Before Magnolia could free herself, several earthen bars slid to seal the hole. The elf can only gape as the wall enclosing her lighted with excessive numbers of glowing seals. [Electro Gift] The entire wall transformed into an electric cage, shocking Magnolia Drakokia with the very element her father exiled from Lightwell. [Paradiso] The electrocuted Magnolia felt the barrier closing in, sealing the connection with her spirits. [Pyro Gift] The temperature of the pit rose to a super sauna height. The electrocuted elf gasped a mouthful of hot air as her body temperature reached beyond what homeostasis could handle. Magnolia swayed in the dark and fainted with a thump. Shock was an understatement. Amitate’s ever flapping mouth hung, unmoving. Avar almost dropped his sword. Emily Aztellic got it worst. She possessed the 2nd greatest magical sensory after the unconscious Magnolia, so she received details of how her rivaled got smacked. “Four spells stack and deliver in less than a second,” Emily’s cold exterior utterly cracked in face of unprecedented threat. Her one-word routine broke to pieces. “You also enchanted the ground with no Mana leakage and created the barrier which seal communication with spirit. How? Just what are you?” Artos Sevar — the proud user of spirit — felt his heart dropped to the planetary core. His entourage seemed to age a decade in seconds. The elves’s insurmountable advantage was their overwhelming contract with spirits of nature, opening access to elemental power beyond ordinary spells and techniques. It was their entire species’ greatest pride. How would the elves reacted before a man with abilities to disable their entire culture. First, it was denial. “Magnolia, speak up,” Artos yelled. “Emily Aztellic lost it. Shout anything. Don’t tell me you lost before the fight even started!” Then anger. “Fine,” Artos yelled. “I will do this myself.” Artos Sevar rushed toward the Chronicler. “Stop it, Sevar!” Emily Aztellic completely abandoned her character and screamed. “We need to work together! Sevar — motherfucker — get back here!” Amitate’s brain hit the halt button. “Work with an elf!” the demon stared at his twin sister. “Are you crazy? That is Artos fucking Sevar. The court will—” “Fuck the court! That guy just beat Magnolia without trying and stack four spells faster that I can react. Screw what you feel about elves. We need Sevar!” Amitate refused to believe that until he heard the clang. Hikma unfolded the PACIFIST to duel Artos. Artos ranked as 23rd in the list of 33 Stars, but his flexibility with spirit and decorated family history were only half of his qualification. The other half was his transcendent skill at combining said spirit’s power with his sword. Many counted Sevar among the best magic swordman of the generation. Among 33 Stars, his swordmanship trumped the 8th — Telos Alma Elyptus Ui Lunaris — and 9th—Thalia Holyworth. Drew with the 4th — Alaysha Grantessa Lightwell Sonya — and only beaten by Tai Hua Tianshang herself. Amitate and Emily Aztellic knew Artos’ pedigree in swordsmanship. Thus, found the fact presented before them tasted bitter than car tires. The bucket-head appearing from nowhere was dueling Artos Sevar to a standstill. Artos Sevar’s bladework was the pinnacle of the elf’s inheritance in elegance and refinery. A light sword-play comprising fast flicks and sharp jabs amplified by momentous footwork. Artos even modified his style to add some power-blow enhanced by a mixture of water and holy power. The elf was an elite duelist; faster and more precise than most human master, reigning superior among the elves. Sevar put up an amazing, well-thought barrages of offences. His foot stood amidst a whirlpool of water to prevent the same pit-fall trap trick that eliminated Magnolia. Combination of arrow traced with holy light flew around the two duelists as Artos tried to probe Hikma’s defense. The first clashes confirmed Sevar was better than Rem, and maybe even Melody, in raw talent with blades. However, he was no Luxinna. The Knight of Glass was the fastest and the most devastating duelist, capable of chaining attack and maneuvers at supersonic speed. Her talent allowed her to master all three Rays Horizon Dawn invented. There are weight class difference in the two. Hikma got 10 years-worth of experience dealing with Luxinna Lathoria in mentally simulated duels. More impressively, the score was about equal. Hikma might be below Melody, but his dedication to defensive combat made him downright unbeaten in duels — even against Luxinna. Avar ended up like Orwell Mehest. He hit the wall. The pool of water beneath his feet failed to penetrate [Trinity] Hikma placed. Two shields of [Trinity] flew, intercepting the arrows of water raining around them. Artos tried jabbing, flicking, and feinting. Still his thin enchanted blade always got intercepted the shield of flourishing cane, masterfully spun so tight around Hikma not even a fly could penetrate. The Aztellic watched as the mysterious mage fought the elite swordman of the generation to a draw. But the difference was clear, Sevar was losing. His face scrunched in frustration as patience evaporated with each parried blow. The helmet-man was totally relaxing into a Zen-like contentment to defend for all eternity at the expense of the increasingly angry Sevar. “Impossible,” one elf watched the development in awe. “What are you doing? Help him!” An elf ordered his comrades to rush at the two duelists. Hikma was waiting for this, and so was Amitate Aztellic. [Devil Flame] Amitate launched a black fireball. [Geo Genesis] Hikma put Sevar into the blade-lock, exploiting the silver of distraction from Sevar who sensed the change in the battlefield. The intervention of the elves was something they expected. All three realized they need to capitalize on that golden instance. However, Hikma’s blade-lock and its timing surprised Sevar. The elf never fought those who trained against Rem in distraction or had reflexes to contend with Luxinna, thus Artos got his counter interrupted by a superior multitasker. Wave of earth rose, scooping Artos in a rocky Tsunami which continued to swallow the entire charging a squadron of elves. The stone rearrange into a wall decorated with stuck elves — a distasteful display of modern art. The giant fireball of [Devil Flame] arrived but Hikma learned enough about fire from Melody. Without raising another Arcane, Hikma slashed with his cane, bisecting the house size fireball. [Devil Flame] may be an inextinguishable fire, but Hikma’s response was designed against Rem’s superior metaphysical ability. [Pyro Lorde] + [Pyro Genesis] Hikma conjured [Surtr] that absorbed Amitate’s [Devil Flame]. The sphere spun, releasing hundreds of fiery wasps produced from [Pyro Genesis] and sent them flying toward the twins. Amitate’s heart sank. The bastard’s attack and defense speed were too absurd. Amitate got many tricks up his sleeves but none could defeat his opponent's ability to nullify his fires or stopped that insect swarms. Amitate drifted to the possibility of overwhelming Hikma hand-to-hand. No. That guy defeated Artos Sevar in melee — something Amitate couldn’t dream of doing. Then something shielded him, and all insects stopped. Emily Aztellic shielded her baby brother from the swarm of fiery creatures capable of stinging them to death. “I surrender,” she stared, trying to suppress the overwhelming fear. “Just let him go.” Hikma raised eyebrows behind that helmet. “No need. I never plan to kill you. In fact, I am sent here to make sure no one fucking dies.”

Amidst the fire of the furnace, Rem and Cytortia hung, suspended by a pyramid-shaped barrier created by Cytortia’s [Paradiso]. The heat didn’t bother the two. Cytortia’s [Benevolence Core] amped her mastery of the defensive and sealing Primal Arcane to a ridiculous level. Test show the former goddess could create environment-sealing barrier so tight decomposition practically halted. She easily constructed a shield that withstand force in hundreds of kilotons. Her isolation could hide an entire invasion force camped right in front of the enemy capital. The protection she offered was so advanced it possessed air purification and temperature change property. For Cytortia, maintaining constant internal temperature in the furnace only shy of the 5000 degrees Celsius was as easy as washing dishes. Rem scanned every surface of the room and smiled. He pointed at the surface of the glowing wall. “Cy, take us there” Cytortia cast her Arcane. “[Paradiso]” Translucent barriers materialized, building a tunnel of magical protection leading down to their location. As testament of the former goddess incredible rise in skill and precision, the thermally insulated tunnel was perfectly constructed with stair case and handrails that would earn a medal from Rem. “Thank you,” Rem walked down to the metal plate. He contemplated ripping the protective wall with telekinetic power, but that would be an equivalent of kicking down someone's front door. Instead, Rem adopted the more polite — Albus Dumbledore approved — procedural. He gently bowed and spoke. “Excuse, may we enter for an…” Rem checked his watch. “Well… an afternoon chat.” It took a brief second, but the hidden compartment opened to reveal a translucent corridor cover in blue chilling light. “Wow,” Cytortia slowly walked down the stair and hid behind him for comfort. “There is really a hidden room here.” Rem tossed a knife into the corridor for caution. The knife tumbled past the blue light and clattered harmlessly on the floor. “It appears safe. Well, let not keep our host waiting,” … Melody learned well. Gone was the girl who over-confidentially walked toward an unknown threat. Multiple spars with her friend beat the value of caution into her brain. Friend. A foreign word she only learned recently, but now it time for her to pull every stop to keep it. Melody needed a single glance to understand that thing wasn’t Luxinna. The tree huggers never dropped her guard in the middle of combat. She never allowed the opponent to prepare, if she could. No, it was like glaring at an animal. That animal had Luxinna’s skin and magical abilities, but not her skill or overwhelming reliance to bombard everything that moved with projectiles. Melody made a preliminary expectation. She knew the following fight would involve a massive quantity of lightning. But the rest of the monster’s arsenal was still unknown. Too much mystery was involved. That second Legend was still a mystery. This meant she must fight defensively, dragging as much capability the threat possessed out as possible. “You…” Emily alternatively pointed between Hikma and Melody. “You again?” Amitate's jaw hung open. He then pointed to Melody. “And who are you?” Magnolia sat dumbfounded behind her two saviors. The young girls’ mind buckled, never expected to reunite with the man called Chronicler in this manner. As for the demoness, Magnolia didn’t know who is she. Meanwhile, Aryssa, Sun Senwei and Joshua entered a period of truce-by-gawking, after witnessing the calvary slamming down in a wall of heat and fashion. Hikma made his message perfectly clear. He even produced a portable microphone to magnify said message. “Too every survivor, my name is Chronicler. We regret to inform you we are dealing with an unidentified threat. Please, for the safety of all involves, I need you to follow my instruction. We need your full cooperation to survive the next few hours. But no need to worry, our personnel have this cover. Please remain calm.” Magnolia lost her mind. “Have this cover? We are locked in these underwater death-traps with killer robots, vampire and that rampaging monster? And you expect us to calm — ack!” Melody gave the elf a karate chop in the head. “Shut up. I am concentrating,” Melody snapped her fingers and unleashed the technique called [Echo]. During their many sparring against lightning, laser beam, telekinetic punches and radioactive flames, several members of the Dawn — namely Hikma, Luxinna and Cytortia — discovered they lacked ability to predict powerful attack. Sure, Rem [Clairvoyance] and Melody’s [Heavenly Eyes] allowed them to stroll around invisible attack, but the rest didn’t have those. It was Cytortia who develop a solution. She experimented with natural Mana in the atmosphere and sent a pulse of energy similar to a Soundwave through the Mana. The energy waves then collided with foreign Mana and reflected to the user in a similar principle to echolocation by bats. It was a Mana detection technique that could detect invisible Mana-base attack and even Mana influence on natural phenomenon, such as potential light direction and energy sink. And thus [Echo] was born. It took training, but every Horizon Dawn knight could locate Mana activity with a simple finger snap. But among the five, Cytortia — the technique inventor — and Melody were skilled with analyzing substance composition with [Echo]. It wasn’t too surprising given both were gifted artisan who weren’t stranger with Alchemy and Material Science. Melody received the initial analysis of Luxinna’s Exoskeleton with mild concern. Her [Echo] couldn’t penetrate that armor, but it lighted several assembling Mana nodes. “Incoming,” the demoness made a face. “It is… lightning bolt?”A Melody felt insulted. Lightning bolts? Really? Luxinna graduated from something that easily avoidable ages ago. Sure, bolt was fast, but it was easily diverted with pieces of steel acting as lightning rod or [Aura] basic protection. It also needed intense concentration to aim. Essentially pinpointing the location of electron-sink in 3D space with brainpower. By the time she aimed one lightning, Luxinna would already finish porcupine people with swords. Sure March 13 rail-gun was way slower than lightning bolts’ Mach 300, but the destructive power and ease of use more than balance it out. [Assault Flora] fired at a more rapid rate, more easily adjustable, and its room for improvement meant one day it would eventually surpass the speed of lightning. Melody was more upset than hurt that this was the weapon her rival used against her. Melody got her hope up. Maybe it was a special anomaly of a lightning bolt. Maybe some kind of lightning that could melt people to puddle of goo. Sadly, [Heavenly Eyes] confirmed the reality. It was a good old fashion smiting. Unimpressed, Melody tanked the entire gigantic bolt with her [Aura]. She stretched her Mana into a protective barrier and redirected the surrounding energy. Melody whistled. Although throwing an electrical current alone at her was pointless, she must give an extra point for the sheer scale. Whatever taking control of Luxinna got entire oil-rig of stockpile to spend. Hikma barely blinked. He already got used to watching people tanked unnaturally huge lightning bolt without lifting a finger. Hell, he was the third in the group at redirecting energy attack—the first being Rem and the runner-up was won by Cytortia. Other spectators — unfortunately — experienced no feat of magical attack redirection. Standard convention when facing such as attack was raising your defense or snuffed it with tons of Mana. Abilities to simply emerged unscathed from directly meeting the attack head-on wasn’t normal. Sure, S-ranker and above could walk through a weaker opponent attack like a breeze, but that was because their Mana pool is huge to the point it automatically resisted attack. But allowing a huge blast like that to flow passed like a river current flowing through a rock? That ability was unprecedented in conventional spell-casting or cultivation manual. The spectators’ jaw collectively dropped. The 33 Stars stared unblinking at the newcomer who just ripped the convention of magical duel to smithereens. But among this 33 Stars, it was Emily who was the most dumbstruck. As a closet magic nerd, the ability the demoness before her displayed simply defied description. Unlike the other, she also noticed one more similarity with the mage who utterly stomped her while being outnumbered. A symbol behind their back. “Who are you two?” Melody sighed as the monstrous elf disappeared. “This might sound corny… but we are protector of the innocent.” Melody said, intercepting the attacking Luxinna’s faceplate with a fist and sent her flying to the far-side of the room. The monster followed her lightning with close-quarter, but Melody was already used to that tactic. It was old enough to be in the Horizon Dawn’s equivalent of the papyrus. “Chronicler, take care of them. I will be knocking same sense into the tree-huggers. And, buddy, I want a one-on-one.” “Fine by me.” Melody blasted forward on a trail of fire. … “Is she going to be fine?” Magnolia yelled at Hikma who conjured a barrier over the semi-panicking survivor. “Empress? Yeah, she is strong. Well, I doubt she can beat the berserk monster Ace became, but she would be enough to keep her busy.” “Keep her busy? That thing must be S-rank to trash us like this! It shrugged through this entire facility's defenses and swallowed Sanctification. A bloody S-rank attack. How can you be so sure?” Hikma barely paid attention to the rambling Magnolia. Instead, he noticed several flying drones coming through the wall. It appeared the mastermind just rebooted the base defense after the prior brawl short-circuited the room. [Nicholas] Hikma combined [Electro Gift], [Paradiso] and with [Conceptual Seal] read [Error] into the combination of pyramid-shape seal grabbed everyone's attention. “You talk a lot, but despite everything you say, none of your rattling suggest you knew how powerful Empress is.” Hikma activated [Nicholas], stretching the barrier of enchantment that automatically turned every electricity dependent device off. The survivors gawked as a single spell from the Chronicler utterly disabled every coming mechanical threat poking itself into the room. Of course, being a pseudo-soul intelligence, the Mastermind remained mostly unaffected, but this new obstacle forced it to deploy certain experimental feature now that failure chance skyrocketed. “Trust me.” Magnolia somehow knew that the man under that helmet was smiling. “They are rival. If there is someone who could take out Ace, it is Empress.” … Melody sprinted into battle, kicking Beast Luxinna’s claw to the way-side and pirouetting an elbow right into her face. The monstrous elf tanked the blow without flinching and countered with electrically charged tail-swipe, followed by a burst of ionize airs. It was a failed attack. The demoness’ [Heavenly Eyes] lend her the leverage to dodge the swipe, while her [Aura] allowed her to fight past the ionize air in favor of slamming a haymaker into the monster chest. [Echo] The punch sent Luxinna flying into the far wall, but left Melody nursing her fist. That breastplate was hard. Luckily, she sneaked in a measurement. That was one weird reading. The possessed elf rocketed from the crumpled steel like a comet of lightning. Melody clenched her fist and mentally assembled the Arcane. [Pyro Lorde] She punched, blasting the column of fire at Luxinna like a fist of lame thrower, catching the elf and carrying her up to the ceiling. It was then that Melody’s [Heavenly Eyes] flashed. Shit. Melody acrobatically flipped away from the blast of ionized laser from up high. She narrowly twisted sideways to evade the ion laser cutting up to her position. She then remembered Hikma and folks were behind her. Oops … Hikma cursed, enlarging his [Trinity] into an all-encompassing shield to defend against the ion laser cutting toward them. “Mel,” Hikma strained against the power of concentrate charge particle. “Handle this or we are tagging!” … “Sorry!” Melody yelled. She flew, tackling Luxinna against the cieling to disable the lightning, but the possessed elf dug her ground. Tentacles slithered and grabbed the demoness by her ankle. Melody felt electricity penetrating through her [Aura] as a tentacle flinging her into the battered wall. However, Beast Luxinna couldn’t muster much force into her throw from such a terrible angle. And it was about to learn that failing to finish Melody in a lucky shot wasn’t a recipe for survival. Melody growled. That electrical discharge hurt, but the S-rank endurance was there for a reason.  Fine. Time to up the heat. Melody touched the cracked wall. [Burning Asura: Nuclear Forge] … The group saw the demoness being flung into the metal and electrocute. “That got to hurt,” Hikma whistled. “Your comrade about to get murder!” Joshua of the Wolf Hoard yelled at the helmet knight. In the display of courage and royalty, he braved the carnage to drag his battered Commander behind Hikma’s barrier. “Help her!” “Empress won’t fall for a mild hit like that,” Hikma reassured him. “No doubt she felt that shot, but I can guarantee she is more annoyed than hurt.” Right on cue, the metal wall erupted on fire. “You must understand. My friend is trying to be less reckless in her battle. She istrying to deduce the cards before revealing her hands. What you see right now is a raise.” … Hanging perpendicularly from the melted wall, Melody spun the metal halberd she built from the surrounding metals and enchanted with [Radioactive Fire]. After years of sparing with Luxinna in the simulator, she picked the [Armory Grace] skill, albeit at a lower rank compared to the elf.  Melody ran down the wall to her out-of-control rival. Tentacles of glass whipped in a flickering speed, but it was no match against Melody’s combination of [Heavenly Eyes] and weapon skill. The demoness twirled the halberd like a shield of rotating blade, slicing the glass tentacles at its joint with the nuclear-powered super-heated blades. Beast Luxinna watched Melody hit the floor and responded by stretching all her tentacles to build a cage. The glass appendaged glowed and began firing needles at rail-gun speed. Melody actually grinned. Finally, something resembled the old Luxinna. [Pyro Genesis] Shell of flames wrapped around Melody, withstanding the monstrous bombardment that echoed throughout the room. Smoke rose from the collision of glass and flames. But the flames weren’t enough to defend against True Magic powered barrages. Melody knew this, but she never meant to use her defense as a one-sided protection. From the smoking haze of burning fire, a halberd of flames rocketed forth and impaled the scorched metal floor, narrowly missing the elf. [Burning Asura: Nuclear Forge] The shell self-destructed, blasting Melody to her target like a comet of fire. She emerged with a newly created metal shield. Needles accelerated by electromagnetism hit the shield, but failed to penetrate the strengthened metal disk. She arrived in the striking range, gripping her shield by the edge and bringing it smashing down on the elf like an axe. Luxinna’s glass claws lengthened into a blade, swinging to intercept the strike without knowing that the elaborate attack was a feint. Melody was too familiar with Luxinna to not take any chance. The entire point of the shield bash was to obscure her vision. Melody relaxed her grip on the shield, allowing it to spin away as she twisted into the elf’s blind spot and kicked her halberd sticking from floor. The demoness caught the spinning weapon from the floor and delivered a strike, powered by burning the metal mass as nuclear energy. The attack landed right on the exoskeleton spine and marked the wall with a red-hot slash-mark 20 meters wide. After a brutal battle between of the elf and the vampire, and getting demolished further by Melody, the material of the wall finally hit its limit and fell apart into shards broken steel.   … “Whoa,” Amitate put himself in the monster position. Yep, that move would had bisected him without him able to put any resistance. “Who the hell are you people?” He yelled the question at the unresponsive Hikma. Emily’s thought follow the same patterned. Any member of this mysterious group would easily butcher low ranking 33 Stars — the elite of the younger generation. Even higher-ranking members would be in the fight of their life. Any person who could do that would be targeted by the Mandatory Recruitment Order and the Divine Fists. But a group? An organization composed of those individuals they knew nothing about? That was terrifying. “Don’t relax. It isn’t over.” … “I see,” Melody watched her opponent intently. “That is why the reading is so weird.” The demoness commented on the rising Luxinna. Her attack wounded the exoskeleton, revealing mesh of glass fibers lined with energy, but Melody’s [Heavenly Eyes] allowed to see what Serina failed to grasp during her bout. The entire armor was respiring. It behaved like a gigantic organism constantly siphoning energy from the Multiverse and transport it through Mana conducting vessel in the glass fibers. Melody even discovered another secret as the exoskeleton began repairing itself. It wasn’t just material appearing from the air. Melody telescopic vision revealed the True Nature of Luxinna’s second legend. The grain of glass—something that should be inorganic — was undergoing mitosis. It was reproducing itself and repairing the armor at an alarming rate. She needed more information, but that glass already ticked two of the characteristics of living organisms. Could that glass be alive?

Magnolia awoken inside a cell. “Hello, 25th,” Amitate said, namused from the adjacent prison. “Thanks for contributing nothing to our capture.” “Shut up, Amitate,” Sevar and the rest of the imprisoned elves growled from a neighboring cell. “I lost because of your sneak attack!” “You lost because you suck,” Amitate yelled. “We lost because you can’t work as a team.” Outside the cage, Emily Aztellic snorted. “Shut up, Sis,” Amitate yelled. “Hey! Bucket-head! Why did Emily get to stay outside of the cage?” “Because she is a better listener. Now, quiet, Ricky is reporting.” Hikma pointed to a two-meters tall wolf he was petting. The wolf arrived after the 3 stooges and minions got shove into Hikma’s DIY enchanted rock prison. The wolf yelp happily. Magnolia suddenly realized she was in her underwear. Everyone but Emily and Chronicler was half-naked. She screamed, but no sound came out. Emily Aztellic turned toward Hikma De Darwin and gave him a thumb-up. “Mute cage?” “A sound block,” Hikma shrugged. “My friend expects she will scream a triad of threats, so he recommends I install a noise block.” “But why does Emily got to keep her cloth?” Artos complained. “Why are you stripping us anyway?” “Because the girl handed several hidden weapons and her Storage Ring in good will. She has no desire to escape without Amitate. Meanwhile, you are an unstable chemical. Don’t worry you can all have your rings back when this debacle is over.” “You know she is an Aztellic, right? A fucking demon!” “I don’t judge people by their race, and sin of the parent isn’t something I believe. Unlike, you I don’t waste time starting a stupid crusade on people who try to live their best life. Hell, my plate is already spilling.” “She will turn on you?” “And you won’t?” “We elf are…” “Known for tossing your children to the wolves the moment they got power you don’t like,” Hikma cut Artos in second with precise interruption. Amitate laughed. “Hey, you have a good taste. I like how you handle that sanctimonious asshole. If you open the cage, kowtow in apology and swore to serve me and I guarantee you will…” Hikma snorted. “You are not much better. Sorry, I don’t want to end like Majesty Solarmaria. The point still stands. Your race guarantee nothing. Your family guarantee nothing. Your fame guarantee less than nothing. I judge people by action, not words. So, Miss Aztellic, do we have a negotiation.” “We have none. You win. I will submit, but please let my brother go,” Emily tried to cramp down her discomfort. Hikma groaned. “Might make right? I don’t think you get me, Miss Aztellic. My power doesn’t exist to enforce the backward notion that a bigger fist is justice. In fact, I find greater profit on a longer path to convince you than forced servitude. I will simply tell you a story and nothing more. The rest is up to you.” … Distance away Sun Senwei and Mamacia Cocogar rushed through the forest, leaving behind corpses of mind-controlled animals. Behind them a voluptous member of holy church impaled a giant bird with her sword and blast the poor animal to ash with the holy burst of energy.  Mamacia stealthily hid behind the three and produced a binocular. In the distance they saw their target, Sorin Enma was lording arrogantly over the band of fallen competitors. Senwei palmed a gigantic bear, exploding its head like a watermelon. Disregarding the blood, he walked over the corpse of twitching animal to the unperturbed Mamacia. Aryssa Holyworth snorted and decapitated three more flying animals. “Bunch of rats everywhere,” Sun Senwei spoke. “How is Sorin?” “Flexing his ego per usual,” Mamacia replied. “I trust you will stick to your word, Sun.” “Yep, all three of us sneak attack on Enma. That bloody son of a bitch is a direct descendant of Enma clan. His pocket would be loaded.” Aryssa joined in. “What about the trashes bowing to him?” Sun Senwei laughed. “Simple. We use them to help explore the forest. Anything can happen in this expedition. We need bait and meat shield to guarantee a maximum harvest.” “You know they will be a witness when we murder Enma, right?” Aryssa Holyworth voiced that out. “Seriously, the fairy of the Holy Church actually cares about them?” Mamacia sounded surprised. “Those insects?” Aryssa's face scrunched in disgust. “No. I just want to ensure we cover all angles. If one of them escape alive and told the Enma clan, we will need to deal with the repercussion from killing Sorin. I suggest we silence all the witnesses before fighting Enma.” “Really?” Mamacia looked between the two. “That is what we are going to do.” “Merciless as always, Aryssa. Good to see the Holy Church haven’t lost their touch. Still, I believe keeping them alive as our asset is better,” Senwei complimented. Aryssa gave a sweet innocent smile a stark contrast to her ruthlessness. “What are you going to do if you cannot kill all of them? Your reputation might not matter, but I still got the Holy Church’s reputation to preserve.” “Relax, Aryssa, it is those ants’ word against yours. They couldn’t protect themselves, much less strike back at us.” A new voice muffled by a modulator arrived to shatter the three glorified bandit’s dream like Darth Vader approaching from hallways to hell. “They can’t, but I can.” The three turned toward the voice; to face the girl who would haunt their nightmare. There she stood. The hooded figure in black battle suits lined with Aria steel. The white symbol of Hope Dawn shone with brazened pride. The hooded figure glared at each of them through her mask. Lightning crackled around her ominously. “Better pray your gods for painkiller,” Luxinna Latoria’s voice was merciless. “You will need it.” … Sorin Enma was in a very good mood. No one knew what Alcra Shaxter wanted for a successor, but the competition and the unnaturally aggressive animals pointed at strength. The entire forest was a battleground to weed out the weak and selected the strongest man as the victor. This phase of the competition was an audition, and Enma knew exactly how to impress the would-be watcher. He laid an attack. The adventuring band of ten never realized what hit them. Sorin Enma and his gigantic beastmen slaves utterly tore their futile resistance. Half of them died within the first minute. The rest tried to snap the IK’s badge to escape, but Sorin simply activated a strange artifact to block the teleportation. The result was tragic. The two women of the group were being manhandled by Sorin’s animalistic slaves, enthusiastically awaiting the order to violate their captive to death. Out of the three men, one was in critical condition and another won’t last much longer. A weak martial artist groaned only for Enma to kick him in the face. “Why? We never…” the man muttered until Sorin simply stomp down on his throat, choking him. “Because you are in the way,” Sorin said. “Blame yourself for not overreaching your station and signing up here. The weak exist to be trampled by the strong. That is a qualification to be selected by Alcra Shaxter. What are you doing here? Treasure hunting? This is a killing zone, old man.” The man gagged, but Sorin pressed harder. “Please let him go?” a young boy watched helplessly. “Impudence,” Sorin sneered. “What can you offer to me? You are all a chick in my palm.” Sorin showed the kid his stolen IK badge. “You can’t even run away. And the stuff in your bag it is already mine. Poor little kiddie too powerless even to resist.” The boys gritted his teeth. He cursed himself for coming here, blamed the world for not being stronger. Why did people like Sorin Enma deserved the power to trample on all of them? What did they do to deserve it? “The weak can only blame themselves for being born a bug,” Sorin pressed. “You know what? I feel merciful. Knelt in front of me, swore yourself to by this royal one slave, and kissed my boot. Then maybe I will let you lived.” The boy shuddered. “Don’t you agree old-man,” Sorin lifted his boot, allowing the man to breathe. “Yes,” the uncle begged, trying to appease the psychopath to survive. “Thank—" “Oh,” Sorin eyed the man with malice. “I don’t like your tone. It seems you don’t recognize your place as an insect.” Sorin lit his foot with lightning. “Wait!” The old man begged in tear. “This lowly fool is wrong. Compare to the mighty lord I am just an ignorant slave. Please allow this old man to serve you with his life. I am just insignificant trash so it will be an honor to lick your boot!” The old man sobbed. “Just let me live, please!” Sorin sneered at the boys. “This is how you beg kid,” Sorin was ecstatic. “A bug should know a place of bug. This is your punishment for daring to fight back when I attacked.” “Bullshit,” one of the woman captive yelled. “You won’t get away with this!” “Still got spirit,” Sorin sneered. “Rape her to death, Slave 8, and then eat her.” The growling beast started ripping into the resisting woman as Sorin started his villainous monologue. “This is reality kid. The biggest fist judge everything. All of you are beneath me. Heaven itself sides with my power. I don’t know why you people still keep trying to get away from my clan and those fuckers. What honor could life give you more than to serve us? Aren’t we your greatest protector? Who else could you turn to for salvation? Isn’t servitude a cheap price to pay for protection? Who else would save you!” Slam! Crash! Bam! Crash! Crash!  Something landed behind Sorin Enma, bounced from the earth, smashed through two trees and collided into the boulder next to him. Sorin felt a shiver down his spine. The slaves duo suddenly froze for an unexplained reason, leaving the crying woman blinking in shock. The half elf in front of him was his fellow 33 Stars, Mamacia Cocogar. The young Enma barely believed his rival’s battered state. Mamacia was a beauty in her own right; lithe, stern and sharp as an intellectual from the Isle of Knowledge. Far from a wrangled mess before him. Her face was bruised. Her clothing smoked like someone slammed a million volts through her body. Her hair stuck out like a porcupine and her proud nose caked with bloods.  Sorin gulped. Cocogar was technically weaker than him, but her skills were first rate. Who or what could batter her to a pulp like this? “Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!” Boom! Sorin watched a man in a green jacket dropped from a sky like a meteor. The familiar body of Sun Senwei broke the Earth with his shoulder. He flipped to his feet in a display of dexterity, but the only emotion on his face was fear as he gazed skyward. Sorin slowly craned his neck in the same direction. They saw the majestic entrance. A girl in a black cape and skintight battle suit stood tall on a floating lotus. Electricity sparked around the knight of Dawn. The limping Aryssa Holyworth dangled from her right, twitching like a dying cockroach. Her clothing blackened from massive voltages. Her originally luxurious hair frayed like cotton. As beastmen demigod, Sorin’s eyesight was superhuman, so he noticed the masked girl’s piss-off expression from the earth. “Who are you!?” The girl disappeared from the sky and reappeared an inch from Sorin’s face. “The protector of the defenseless, jackass,” the girl answered, golden armor surfacing into existence as she tossed out a punch. Sorin blocked with a palm strike, but sheer might of the overclocked muscle still blasted him to submission. Friction tore the earth and shock-wave cracked the atmosphere to mark Sorin Enma’s tour across the air. Sun Senwei watched the former biggest threat in the competition being knocked deeper into the wood. He cycled through his option to deal with this beast of lighting and settled with speed. Gathered his Qi on the foot, he exercised his movement technique and appeared behind Luxinna in a flash of rippling space and wind. He tossed out a punch that transformed into a gigantic wind dragon. Sun possessed supreme confidence that his punch would land at point blank, but the elf saw the blow coming. [Overflow] Sun Senwei watched his target vanished as a drop-kick buried his face into the ground and extinguished his attacks. His mind barely comprehended how this monster reacted to a movement technique incorporating spatial teleportation before Luxinna subsonically face-planted him to the earth. The strike knocked Sun's consciousness to sleep, burying his head with his feet pointing up like an ugly tree. Being a kind soul, Luxinna delivered another kick to his midsection, unearthing him from the soil and blowing him through several trees. Sun Senwei puked the combination of soil and his breakfast. His eyes blurred as his mind buckled beneath the trauma of a catastrophic darkness under the earth and fear of the unforgiving dealer of that punishment. Her mask would forever haunt his memory. Luxinna watched Sun Senwei fell and stated. “I know you two bitches are playing possum.” The Holy Church elite dangling helplessly in Luxinna shuddered in fear. Distance away, the half-elf prayed, trying to stay perfectly still. Alas, forlorn hope didn’t stop Luxinna from catapulting Aryssa Holyworth at Cocogar with a speed of military grade missile. An impact and dust clouds later, the two girls stopped playing dead. Thumps “Protector of the fucking defenseless!? Don’t make me laugh.” Sorin marched from the forest slowly fixing his dislocated shoulder. “Those self-righteous sects or those icy bitches always claim to represent the weak, but they all fold to us after a stack of cash. Those talks of justice are just a slogan. Come on! Tell me how much do you want?” Luxinna said nothing. She simply strolled to Enma. “A billion credit? My clan can offer that easily? Do you want a secret technique or a benefit? We can give you rank or fames. You only need to move out of the way. This got nothing to do with you anyway. Will you offend the Enma clan for insec--“ [Overflow] Sorin stopped making offers as he got blasted into the sky by a flash of lightning. Sorin coughed up a bucket of blood midair. He must do something. His opponent was too fast. “[Divine Beast Raiment]” Sorin screamed, doubling all his stats. His body bulged as a raiment of Mana snaked around his body. Now, he needed to find that monster. Then he felt the presence from his back; an unforgiving storm of static electricity. Sorin looked behind him and registered the lotus of light, and the girl in golden, radiant armor leaning from the golden flower. Her mask shone with red-glare. Sorin realized his time was numbered. He won’t have any window to cast a counter against the coming attack. Luxinna was simply too fast for most spell-caster and cultivator to deal with. You either saw her attack coming, possessed passive defense, or fold over to die by hypersonic beating. “Wait! Do you know who I am? I am the son of…” Luxinna vanished and electromagnetically plowed into the buffed Sorin. The demigod lifted his lightning covered arms to stop that strike, but Luxinna was simply faster. She altered the direction of her fist split-second before the collision and smashed directly at Sorin's unguarded stomach. [Electro Gift] + [Electro Lorde] Let be clear, Sorin wasn’t a joke. He was a master of lightning-based Ki, possess destructive power and superhuman body. Trained since age of five from the best in Enma clan, his battle experience and natural aptitude in martial art was considered the best. The story of his defeat was he drew a short straw against an absurd opponent. His prior battle environment was a controlled duel or scenarios which the Enma names could silence all opposition. Facing against a HD knight was totally new to Sorin. His arrogance and narcissism became downright detrimental against an opponent who served a higher purpose than material desire and trained rigorously to fight an entire world if need be. Sorin utterly overestimated his worth, underestimated Luxinna’s firepower, and utterly caught unprepared with only [Divine Beast Raiment] to protect him. Sorin might last a minute if he came with a mentality to fight to death, but anything less snowballed his disadvantage into a clean defeat. Lightning discharged as shock-waves and thunders blasted a crater with Sorin Enma electrocuted body. He slammed hard enough to shake the ground; racking bruise, electrical burn, and internal bleeding. He felt his breakfast traveling from his stomach as he vomited skyward. Luxinna landed out of the crater, rushing toward the injures adventurers, leaving Sorin to smoke in a crater.

Beneath the boiling ground of brigandage, the ominous cyan lights blinked.  Unexpected variable had entered the algorithm. Recalculating factors to account for emerging deviations and expanding the experiment’s scope. Processing completed. Deviation acceptable. Variable’s threat level was within the threshold of phase 2. Next course of action — began phase 2. … It happened so fast Rem barely reacted in time. A burst of light emerged from the forest’s center. A beacon, bright and tall enough to be visible to the whole forest. To the denizen of Phantasia, familiar with treasure hunt and heavenly phenomenon, that golden color light was an indicator for supreme treasure. Rem knew better. It was a trap. Their opponent finally upped the bet. Rem didn’t even need [Clairvoyance]. Every participant would scramble at the imaginary wealth like ants after sugar cube. Even if Horizon Dawn stopped the initial wave, the greedy survivor would keep coming. A shiny beacon behaved as a discovered check, forcing Rem to the only moves available — toward the endgame. Stopping information or greed was downright impossible. Their only method was to eliminate the problem at its source even if it translated as marching into an obvious trap. … And thus, Horizon Dawn’s mission objectively received an update. Guard the parameter. We blow that trap before the participant moved into position. Roast the area if you have to, but we must force the trigger activation before potential casualties mount. Use long ranged attack and proceed with caution. This is a priority. … Hikma disabled the cage. “I am leaving,” the Chronicler yelled. “Get out of the blast range. That is a bomb!” He rushed into the forest. The elves and demons stared into each other eyes. “Follow him?” “Yeah, that guy is hiding something,” Amitate Aztellic said greedily. “I don’t care what he got in his Storage Ring, but I know it would be huge.” … “You need to leave,” Luxinna tossed a few medical supplies. “I am going to destroy the source of that light. Get out of here while you can.” The girls bow their head. “Thank you, Miss Ace,” one girl declared. “If you have any problem, you could come and find us in the Stone Edge School we will help as much as we could.” The surviving adventurer bowed to Luxinna before running away. The elf turned toward the 33 Stars and undid her paralysis. “You guys must escape the forest. I don’t know what could happen next, but you won’t like it. I know you have recovery potions or something in those rings, so use them and get the hell out, while I am halting the crisis.” Luxinna disappeared in flashes of lightning. Alas, the elf’s warning fell to deft ears. Sun Senwei crawled to the ground, bit a recovery pellet, and stormed toward the beacon. Thought of powerful treasure clouded his self-preservation. Behind him, Aryssa Holyworth and Mamacia Cocogar met eyes and nodded. Cocogar tossed them a pill and Aryssa cast a recovery spell. They needed to recover their peak before attacking the hypothetical treasures. But bitterest man among the group was Sorin. Avariciously starring at this golden opportunity, Sorin ignored his slaves and swallowed several high-grade regeneration and combat pills. He transformed into a beast of lightning and raced to the center of the forest. Ancient proverb said that you could drag a cow to a water, but you couldn’t force it to drink. HD could provide a statistical model and mathematical proof of a trap, but the 33 Stars would never abandon their paranoid and ambition for strength in favor of wisdom. The mastermind’s greatest genius was it realization of Phantasian's most pathetic folly. In Phantasia — where life was treated like glass, and pursued of martial strength worth more than inner peace, caution and wisdom — the behavior of its targets was predictable. Sample sets through historical recorded a consistent trend. Whenever a strange light emerged from the ground or the sky changed color, Phantasia denizen would chase after that light in blind avarice, disregarding every risk and forethought over a possibility of so-called ‘Heaven defying treasure’ that increased their strength. For one-thousand-year-old plant or a rock, an obsessive Phantasia would gladly lie, steal and kill without second thought. Rem understood how fool-proof the plan was. No matter how much he warned them, the participant would dive blindly to the shiny in the sky for a minor competitive edge in martial prowess. A perfectly simple bait for the herd of wild and stupid tigers. Of course, Rem had a colorfully worded disdain for these behaviors. In a lecture from the 5th Congress of Hope, Rem clearly explained how and why the blind chase for a miracle natural resource was pointless and suicidal regression for humanity. … Allow me to introduce our policy on natural resource gathering by citing my favorite example: the glorious transformation of Singapore from Third-world to a glorious paradise. Singapore is a small island nation that once considered a merge with Malaysia. They got no resource, a tiny population and no history — a wreck after a colonization. Now it is the most developed country in the entire region. While late Lee Kuan Yew produced many admirable teaching, my favorite being the removal of communists, his most valiant lesson best represents by how Singapore developed the only — and the most important — asset it has: THE PEOPLE. Singapore fought tooth and nail to train its best and brightest and keep them working in government, while promoting private sectors growth to attract the investment from fuck-tones of multinational.  As other resource giant still harvested herb field and fought over an insignificant piece of land, Singapore taught a valuable Aesops to humanity which will be our policy on resource from now on: take the million-year-old weed and put it in a box. You only need to research it. The only resource you should be fighting over is your skills. We are super predator. Our kind don’t hunt miracle herbs to create a pill. We learn how the bloody herb worked and synthesized it from homegrown abalone and jellyfish before putting the cleaner product in the supermarket. Let me repeat, the shiny chrome and multicolor glass are clutches, the only resource that could be relied at all times is your bloody head. … Those statements underlined the Dawn’s incredible immunity to riches. Rem built his organization to be as small, mobile and resource independent as possible. In Remus Breaker’s world, the huge population wasn’t humanity's strength, but a logistic crack in the armor. True strength should originate from skills and application of knowledge, not fancy leverage of cheap labors. This policy would soon make the Dawn a one-ship technological juggernaut, outstripping all factions on Phantasia in both Advance Magical Guerilla Warfare, Mana Application, Biotechnology, Computer Technology, and Phenomenal Replication and Weaponisation. Most people needed to dig magic bone or stone to forge weapons while the Dawn crafted its most infamous tools from grounded Iron powder and artificially synthesized additives. Sadly, despite having no desire for treasure and spotting the coming trap thousand miles away, the Dawn still walked into the wall. Such was the sin of the hard carry. If your teammates sucked, you would be dragged down no matter how good was your KDA. … Still, HD gave full effort to prevent the disaster. Luxinna being the fastest women in the Dawn fired a full-powered [Assault Flora] at the light as her last-ditch attempt. But a mysterious blade coated in ominous blood-red fog intercepted the projectiles at Mach speed. Despite being fueled by savage and malevolent aura, that defence was transcendental. The knife was thrown with precision and power to deflect Luxinna’s rail-gun round that would carve unforgettable fear into demigods. Luxinna’s eyes widened as the tornado of bloody mist barreled toward her. She successfully dodged the attack and analyzed her opponent. A pale woman in a leather hood and bloody white hair stood defending the tower of light. The girl's face lined with scar-like vein of a corrupted blood vessel. Her crimson eyes glowed as a pair of blades slid into her palms. Commander Serina of Wolf Hoard twirled, taunting Luxinna with a finger wag. The mission was cleared. Serina was protecting the mechanism for reason unknown and Luxinna need to step past her to achieve victory. Luxinna accepted the 400 meters range duel with gritted teeth. [Assault Flora] Summoning three more lightning-powered turret Luxinna spam barrages of blades, but the mysterious Commander swatted every blade aside in a supreme display of speed and coordination. Without a single millimeter offed her stance, Serina countered attack with two slashes of bloody swords, releasing red, x-shape, rampaging sword-waves toward the elf. Ducking behind the counterstrike, Luxinna electromagnetically launched herself to close-quarter with a boost from her lotus. [Overflow] Her mental calculation performed at high-speed as she rocketed toward Serina in a flash of lightning. Meanwhile, the commander closed her eyes, pinning everything to her instinct. The two clashes in a burst of dark-red and gold. … Meanwhile, in the forest, the giant ogre — Salazar Aztellic — conversed warily with another being reeked of blood. Dozens of corpses littered around the two. Few were broken and torn limb from limb, but most met a more horrific fate — sucked dried into desiccated shrivel grey husk. “You must be Lord Salazar Aztellic,” the being’s face was tainted with a series of horrifying bloody veins marring his timeless face. His pale skin glossed with vitality and the inhumane stench of death. Despite his feral appearance and unsightly skin disfigurement, the man’s impeccable Victorian suit mixed nicely with artistically groomed fangs. Salazar Aztellic treated his new acquittance like a nuclear bomb. Vampires were an arrogant prick of a race, but their title as the strongest race of Phantasia possessed credit for a reason. Regeneration, bat-shit insane learning speed, longevity and unnatural physical prowess was a common attribute of the vampire. Their natural stats surpassed the elves and demons, bordering the level of pure-blooded gods. Their inherited skills downright terrified the divines and were the core reason only the Holy Church backed by Yotehiem’s angels dared to combat those plagues. Vampires wielded [Bloodmist]. An infinitely flexible energy condensed from their life force capable of consuming life-essence and rending Mana. This ability made them an utter nightmare to face in battle. Worst fate of all was to be captured by Vampire. All vampires possessed the ability to accrue power and vitality from consuming blood, making them a nightmare to face in war. Their [Corruption] skill allowed Vampire to implant their essence into prisoners and weapons slowly turning them into an obedient thrall brainwashed into serving the vampiric masters. Hell, Salazar even heard the rumors that vampires preferred to keep the thrall’s ego intact, allowing them to be fully conscious of their fate as sex-toys or suicide weapon against their former comrades. Those bloodsuckers were infamous for malevolence and cruelty.  Phantasian's concern about Vampire wasn’t unfounded. Their gluttonous sadism and depravity was a recipe for disaster. Wherever their kind went, tears and bloods followed. Vampires’ society promoted strength above all else with little regard for life. As an insatiable race who fed on blood and suffering, vampire culture and social structure bred suffering for all those they graced as they consumed, irrigated and assimilated to achieve the vampiric ancestral decree of godhood. Salazar trembled. Throughout all history, Vampires were the only threat aside from the World Enemy to unite the bickering forces of Phantasia. Every faction from the Isle of Knowledge, the Seven Continental Alliance and the Demonic Continent possessed a simple solution against any vampire sighting: kill without question.  Execution was a mandatory order even for a newborn vampire. Sparring single baby was a ridiculous notion for the race who accrued power through sucking blood. But despite such measures, vampire still held a sizable territory in the South-Western part of Tengen continent. Their mysterious heritage aided their resistance against the entire Phantasia adding to their fearsomeness. Now one of them sneaked into this forest despite the limelights. “What do you want, Vampire?” Salazar considered his odds. No vampire was listed on the 33 Stars because no official would tolerate the travesty of giving the hated parasite any credits. Sadly, reality didn’t care about indignation and it only meant Salazar did not know who or what stood before him. “Not a trace of manner,” the vampires sneered. “Is that how you talk to a superior being?” “Don’t push your luck, bloodsucker,” Salazar lifted his sword. “I don’t fear you.” The vampire's disfigured face turned into a demonic snared. “You should, ogre, but today I wanted to offer you a privilege of dealing with us.” “A deal? Your kind actually understood that word?” “Typical flies,” The vampire sneered. “One glance at our fangs and you lump us together. Not all of us share the Neferia’s obsession of subjugating your kind. The Balorian Houses is more receptive to the current status quo and we are seeking expansion.” “I won’t be your slave.” “Oh please, you are still confusing us with the Neferia. Those muscle brain morons believe that achieving Atavism would allow us to rule the world. Heh, we can barely coordinate ourselves, much less manage more territory. I am more interested in gaining political allies and merchandises.” “Merchandise?” “Yes, you may well-know we believed in breeding a stronger off-spring. It was the only view the three-vampire clan had in common. However, unlike Neferia who preferred conquest to gain the livestock we found it safer to gain ours through subterfuge and trading.” Despite his humongous, Salazar was smarter than a brute. He was a rare variety of ogre who was savvy enough to get ahead. “You want Emily Aztellic.” “Yes, the girl would make quite an excellent mare for our breeding program. Sorin Enma, the elves and Mamacia Cocogar is also a desirable experimental resource we want to purchase. Although, we exhausted 90% of the possibility with Holy Church, the Neferia will pay and handsome price to humiliate a rising star of their greatest enemy. In return, we will gladly provide you aid for the throne.” Salazar Aztellic snorted. “Aid? The moment they discovered I am working with you I will be hunted like a dog.” The vampires chuckled. “Mr. Aztellic. You are assuming the Demonic Continent could mount a substantial investigation. Do you think we randomly selected this moment as our first pursuit into your market or attack member of Enma Clan and Isle of Knowledge without total confidence? We are monsters, but us in Balorian were no fool. Our network is entrenched in Phantasia. With your nation corruption, and our criminal link, not even Jekyll Aztellic would dare disturb our operation no matter the amount of evidence. So, do we have a deal, Salazar Aztellic. With our investment, you can be the next emperor.” Salazar must admit the offer smelled like a new car. The question was would he willing to work with the race of deprave rapist, murderers and slavers with thirst for human flesh? Salazar decided in seconds. … Luxinna barely believed this woman fighting her was still standing. Normally, [Overflow] would land her an instant win against anything outside Horizon Dawn. However, the record was broken today.  The girl with horrendous red marks over her face and blood-specked white-hair dodged an attack coming at Mach speed and blocked another subsonic follow-up. Luxinna’s recalculated her counter, scoring a solid body-shot, but that girl tanked the punch that would take Sorin Enma to the hospital. The young vampire grabbed the elf’s arm, refusing to let the knight slip away. Luxinna instantly went for her opponent's foot, but failed to dent her Serina’s determination. Her kick snapped the vampire’s knees, but that weird red mist reacted, wrapping around her broken leg, acting as a cast to keep Serina standing. “I got you,” Commander Serina faced the knight of Dawn with grim determination. For a second, Luxinna could have sworn she was dueling Rem. “Yeah, congratulation,” Luxinna cast an Arcane. [Electro Lord] Lightning flowed through Serina like a million pin of death, but the vampire fought through the pain and spasm with raw [Magic Resistance] and insurmountable willpower. “Nice tried, but no dice.” Serina’s body swirled with a savage mist of blood, slowly fending back Luxinna’s electricity. The vampires’ blade went into motion. Serina locked Luxinna with her grip of steel, ensuring a clean hit for her close-quarter slash fueled with malicious bloody energy. [Assault Flora] Sixteen lotuses of glass materialized and impaled the Wolf Hoard’s Commander. Luxinna knew the attacks hurt, but it failed to matter. The Commander swallowed a mouthful of blood and pressed her attack, using her [Bloodmist] to move her paralyzed and electrocuted limbs. Despite sixteen swords of golden glass penetrating her muscles, bones and several organs, Serina still refused to surrender. In awe of her enemy's determination and resiliency, Luxinna summoned her sword. [Historia] flashed into existence as the two warriors prepare to duke it out. Alas, the battle never concluded, because the light expanded at that climatic moment, swallowing the entire forest. The next of PALISADE incident finally begun.

A shadow faded into existence in a desolated metal corridor. He glanced around and palmed a thin metal plate that blended into the wall with undetectable seamlessness. Cytortia needed to go all out with her Alchemy to create this plate camouflage coating, and even then, it was because of Ehto’s ingenuity with mass production, assembly bots in that secret workshop, and vast reserve of materials stored in high-quality device Alcra left behind that allowed them to mass manufactured this secret weapon. Rem made a satisfying smile while he pretended to investigate the base. Alcra’s resource wasn’t the only thing that was giving him payback. Even with those devices prepared, installing them without arousing suspicion or alarm was a challenge. Risking all his cards and spooking the AI would lead to a catastrophic consequence. PALISADE was ignoring him because of his low risk, but the moment it deduced his traveling route, the cat would leap from the bag and the scythe would follow. In other to snatch victory, Rem must confuse the AI, moving unpredictably in the manner that persuaded PALISADE he was a low-risk weirdo — an effort sinks. The condition for success was simple — harmlessness, predictability and randomness. No official in the world would bother to trace a harmless weirdo whose action was predictable, especially when tracking their movement wasn’t worth the time and energy. As a fan of poetic justice, Rem dedicated this victory in Alcra’s memory. [Cloak of Nostalgia Rank: A Ability:  Cognition Interference (B) Nostalgic Walk (EX) Origin: The Dreaming Fairy Info: The cloak used by a wish-granting fairy to traverse memory. The fairy will appear at to the lonely and take them to the trip to the place of their hopeful childhood, allowing them to reflect on their happier day to find the willpower and hope in the grim and dark reality.] It was an artifact that wasn’t meant to attack, but to walk through sacred memories. [Cognition Interference (B)] was a giant haze broadcasting ‘nothing-interesting-here-please-move-on’. But the real meat of this artifact was the second trait. The ability of [Nostalgic Walk] was the reason the artifact was a solid A-rank with no chance of dropping lower or higher. It allowed the user to step into pseudo-paranormal space, unrestricted by the concept of space and obstacle. A perfect, miraculous card that allowed the flying nice fairy to take good children on a trip around the world in minutes. The user can use this artifact to step from Manchester to Seoul in a mere walk with no barrier — mundane or magic — to stop them. The time-space traversing path it created also easily cheesed Rem’s range limit. But despite the power that allowed for anyone to be the world best assassin, [Nostalgic Walk] had two major weaknesses. First, any preparation to launching attack would drop the user from Pseudo Space in a very flashy manner, ruining the attempt. Second, to activate its pseudo-space ability a powerful memory or connection to the location were required. As the name implied, [Cloak of Nostalgia] opened the memory lane to travel through nostalgia, thus for it to activate the recipient of said longing / must be there with the fairy. The Reality Breaker was secretly planting secret weapon via pretending to investigate the seams and material in a faux imitation of an FBI investigation; aided and enabled by Ehto — whose intimated link to Alcra’s soul allowed Rem to refit [Cloak of Nostalgia] as a backdoor to trivialize the facilities’ security. In the painful twist of Rem’s design, PALISADE was about to blow up with the help of the father it killed and the brother of inferior spec. … As he watch Edward Balorian faded away by the power of vampiric technique not know to him, Hikma De Darwin asked himself whether this was the right decision. He wanted Edward to find another way, but that second chance also landed a huge possibility to backfire. Hikma wanted to do the right thing. However, he didn’t know the path ahead. Does sparing Edward for a long-shot at bringing an end to an interspecies war worth the risk of more lives lost by the hand of the vampire? Hikma glanced down at Edward's parting gift. A blood red sigil granted to the friend of Balorian and a vial of blood samples from Edward himself. Maybe this was stupid. Maybe it would blow up, but Hikma chose the leap of faith. “That is a horrible decision,” Serina frowned at the most stupid, saintly idiot she ever met. “If you cannot do it. You can just leave to us.” Hikma breathed slowly and asked the important question. “I could. But given how long you fight the vampire with no end in sight, I don’t believe letting you handle Edward will bear fruit.” “What?” Behind the girl, Aryssa’s temper hit the breaking point. Hikma’s words touched not only her reverse scale. They obliterated it. Memories of funerals and tears surged in her mind. She imagined herself biting out Hikma’s throat, but alas the paralysis cast on her body refused to weaken. Hikma felt the emotional shift through the [Tenshou] and explained himself. “You try the extermination option against the vampire for hundreds, no, thousands year with no end in sight. That war for survival now mutates into a meat grinder for both sides, inflicting grudge to the point it becomes rabid. Just look in the mirror. You and the saint are around my age. Think about it, a late teen spouting genocide, and I can tell you this stalemate will never break. What next? A seven-year-old trying to kill each other. At what point would it dawn to you that your tactic only point to mutual annihilation.” “And what? You are asking us to live alongside those monsters?” Joshua, someone who lost a family himself, yelled at Hikma. “It is funny. I can guarantee a vampire kindergarten also went to bed thinking you are the monster? Doesn’t it ever occur the street went two ways?” “I can’t believe this,” Emily Aztellic said. “We all listen to you recording that message. If it is true, and you defeat Orwell Mehest, you should know the importance of eliminating a future threat better than anyone.” “Do you want to know why Orwell turns rogue?” The room stayed silent. Hikma sighed, venting his frustration. “I hear how people say Orwell is a mass murderer and a global threat, but never said what push him to become one. If the Deathless Clan never got wiped out, Orwell would probably be running biomedical company specialize in Mana enhancement right now. Hell, if half of what he boasted is true, you would likely be using the technique his family invented, which makes my long-term mission much easier. You don’t see it, but you have a chicken and an egg problem. Orwell. Edward. They were hatched and radicalized by your kill-em-all attitude to problem solving, generated not from courage nor necessity, but fear. You — even now — are afraid of the Orwell of this world and strived to eliminate those potential possibilities. In doing so, you indirectly generate a condition for those eggs to hatch into a monster. You create this abominable self-perpetuating cycle that guaranteed entropic breakdown. But the most heinous thing is the fact you refuse to acknowledge your contribution to the wreck we are sailing in.”  “I am not afraid of the vampire!” Serina shouted. Hikma’s voice was firm. “No, you are afraid. Terrify even. You are petrified at the prospect of losing another thing to them, which is guaranteed to happen because your perpetual escalation.” Serina stayed silent and walked away. She stepped next to the powerless Aryssa and fired down a massive quantity of [Bloodmist] to kill the Holy Church member. [Trinity] Hikma’s shield blocked the attack, and the room erupted into chaos.  “Why are you attacking her?” Artos yelled. “Is she going to kill us next?” A certain random man panicked at the prospect of vampire conflict resuming. “Whose side are you on?” Serina glared at Hikma. “You try to protect all sides!? Really! You know in the end you will protect no one.” Hikma didn’t respond. He walked over to the battered construction cupboard and pried it opened with [Tenshou]. Not even when Mamacia Cocogar stumbled out did his expression change. Who was he trying to save? It was the question he never asked himself before. Thankfully, the answer was obvious. He was protecting his promise to his dying mother to be a good man. The only things that changed were his the scope of his responsibility. “What I am trying to protect never change,” Hikma scoffed. “There is no doubt pain is up ahead. Misery and loss is inevitable, but someone needs to stand up and show the world what a better tomorrow looks like. That is the burden I will shoulder with pride. And that is exactly why you won’t succeed, PALISADE.” Cocogar jerked at Hikma’s mentioned of the name. “I know you are listening to this. Hell, you probably wire-tapped the entire base,” Hikma’s cane glowed. “But this is a declaration of checkmate. My apologise, but we won’t allow your science project to succeed. My friend just finished setting the countermeasure and he will visit you directly, and he asked me to tell you this: checkmate. ” Hikma glanced at Cocogar. “Tell them about the AI?” Hikma ordered and plunged his cane down, blasting the hole through the floor and falling directly toward the bio lab containing the endgame. … Inside the dark chamber, the cylinder of metal with glittering bulbs of cyan light blinked rapidly. The consciousness of PALISADE immediately realized something was wrong the moment Hikma uttered its name. The Artificial Soul ran several possibilities now that information leak was known. There wasn’t even a need to estimate the extent of information exposure. The subject immediately headed to the biolab area housing the captured specimen. PALISADE was a highly capable AI with total control over its emotion and thus held no shadow of bias or delusion. It knew the astronomically high probability its experiments and objectives were leak. Extensive software investigation must be performed to find the source of the exposure. This experiment method must be addressed to prevent the repetition of today. However, the experiment went pear shape almost unpredictably. Originally, the AI was prepared for losing the few specimens and made extensive containment procedure to handle A-rankers. Its assessment of the Isle of Knowledge and Phantasian community was spot on. The experiment started predictably, with none being the wiser. However, unpredictable factor had arrived and wrecked a havoc beyond the containment level. No. It originated even earlier from the weird group of specimen. PALISADE reviewed every scraped of data about them. Their behavioral pattern suggested they were wary enough to take out every sensor and listening device in their proximity. Because of lack of information, escalating crisis inside the mustering chamber and stable behavior of these unknown variable, PALISADE were forced to divert the resource to deal with the unruly test subject. Upon reviewing the information, PALISADE realized the destruction of electronic sensors and drones paused after the original group disappeared near the furnace. Then the sensor picked the man resuming the base investigation. It was laughably harmless investigation aside from the fact he appeared and reappeared all over the base. PALISADE suddenly checked the information again. Strange. It prepared to lose the drones and sensor, but this kind of physic defying movement pattern defy should tip his vast calculation ability. It was like something mess with his logic circuit. He needed to investigate those areas for anomaly at once. The risk of exposure had passed the threshold. This project must be terminated. It took PALISADE less than a 0.1 second to arrive at that decision. And that was when the entire based was flooded by a strange orange gas erupting from the wall. PALISADE sensor took less than a second to identify the compound. It was a more intense version of his control compound. This presence it couldn’t be… Z-2???? … It was a duel. The entire facility was manipulated by a network of magical pathway manufactured from conductive crystal lining the wall of the facility. It was a cheap, novel way of maintaining the base and that allowed PALISADE’s consciousness to exist everywhere and thus able to control the entire facility at the speed of a thought. The only weakness of this network was PALISADE would be blinded without access to the sensor, acting as eyes and ears. PALISADE’s overwhelming control over the battlefield forced the Horizon Dawn into a passive sabotage battle where they needed to work subtly to avoid the possibility of the AI pushing its ‘I-win’ button. In order to mount an assault on PALISADE they needed an ally AI to put the win condition on the bargaining table. This meant linking the Control Fluid to Ehto and aerosal the facility with his presence to counter PALISADE’s execution order. … Being a strategic AI, PALISADE could follow Rem’s tactic and bit back a snort. Yes, it was a good plan, minus one critical flaw. The man was putting too much faith in Z-2. Still, PALISADE must admit it was a critical strategic error in his part to dismiss his missing brother as a threat. Father must have hid Z-2 somewhere for this one-in-a-million possibility of ending him. Well, it was a good time to play with his little brother. With the signal boosting device prepared for this occasion, PALISADE was fated to win this battle in an instant. He reached into the network with the will to crush the orange flames of resistance, but upon colliding with the will of Z-2, a doubt of defeat crept into his mind. Meanwhile, he felt the overwhelming faith in victory behind the flames of consciousness invading his network. No. Impossible. He couldn’t lose to Z-2 of all people. PALISADE gritted its metaphorical teeth and smashed into the bulwark of counter-protocol one more time. The flames of orange shook, but despite its tremble, the firewall of will stood undeterred. Knowing his opponent’s mobility, PALISADE switched tactic and attack everywhere his signal booster reached. He refused to believe Z-2 had a signal booster powerful enough to cover the entire base. The barricade swayed, but remained steadfast. No. Freaking. Way. How did Ehto whipped up a signal booster? An employment of such device would draw enough energy of him to detect. Then a reaper announcing his reckoning arrived. “3 minutes,” Rem faded into existence wearing the [Cloak of Nostalgia]. “That is how much we believe we can hold you with your bloody signal booster. Thankfully, I need about 40 seconds to walk up to your face.” Rem aimed his CHORUS MK 1 at the tank containing PALISADE. “Game over, Z-1,” he stated. “This gun is loaded with holy-round. I know you are the most powerful processing power in Phantasia, but even you can’t hope to contest the base once I disintegrate you neat signal booster with holy light. Sure, I know you have counter-measure in this room, but it won’t save you when I fire at point blank.” “Give up, brother,” And orange orbed hung to a golden container at Rem’s belt glowed as Ehto’s speak. “Checkmate doesn’t mean we are fighting. It is declaration you don’t have any move left.” “Is that container your signal booster?” PALISADE’s voice spoke from the command rood speaker. “No, it our pet,” Rem rubbed his forehead. “But your fucking will is strong as expected. Damn! It felt like someone punch me through my battle meditation.” “Agree, yanooo,” the glowing container, Zawa, spoke. He also received a blow from helping Ehto withstood PALISADE’s counter assault using his [Interconnectivity].

As much as Luxinna wanted to celebrate, she knew she fucked up. [Overflow] She scanned the crime scene. Five bodies were utterly reduced to a pile of blood. There were no fixing that. The old uncle groaning on the ground needed immediate medical attention, but the guy lying in the pool of his own blood seemed worst. Luxinna sped to his side. She winced. Something blasted a hole through his stomach, taking a chunk from the victim’s intestine. His right arm reduced to wrangle flesh and muscle. Such injury needed Cytortia’s [Tir Na Soal] to reverse. For all her power, Luxinna lacked the gift of healing. The Arcane to perform that feat is [Necta Floral] and her [Static Glass]’s destructive capabilities would never catalyze it. Still the elf did her best, a first aid medical attention, and recovery medicine was poured down to stabilize his condition. Sadly, it simply wasn’t enough. In a desperate gamble, Luxinna Latoria threw all caution away and surrendered herself to the last-ditch option. She plunged her hand into the grisly hole and cast [Static Glass]. It was a hopeless attempt to screw a nut with a sledgehammer. Luxinna’s True Magic might fell hypersonic jet and sank air-craft carrier, but it couldn’t return life. Still, she tried everything she could. The elf defaulted everything to her instinct, scrapping the bottom of her bag-of-trick using her True Magic. She knew it was pointless, but she got to try. Something emerged inside Luxinna and flow down into the heavily injured man. She breathed a sigh of relief as the golden graft of glasses covered the man’s injuries. “Bunch of trash,” a voice rumbled as a body climbed from a crater. Sorin Enma rose like a monster. His broken body creaked ominously as sparks of lightning crackled from the demigods. Dopamine and Adrenalin pumped through his bodies, nullifying the pain he racked from his clashes with Luxinna. The beatmen’s pupils lit with white madness and lightning. “You trash better dug yours eyes out of your socket. I am the esteemed prince of Enma clan. I have overseen death of a million! Help my family hunt the world most dangerous beast! I execute thousand by age seven. You think you can save these insignificant bugs by defying me. Fools! I will kill all of them. You are below me.” Sorin’s word must not register on an emotional level. Luxinna tossed the groaning grandpa a recovery pellet. “Those will heal you,” the elf nodded to the two adventurer girls. “Take care of him while I handle the idiots.” “Don’t you dare ignore me!” Sorin screeched, shoving his injured body beyond its limit and charged toward Luxinna. [Overflow] The world around Luxinna stopped as her brain calculated the sequence to scar Sorin Enma’s ego to submission. She weighed every muscle movement. Every shifted in emotion and seismic reaction. Instinct honed in the forest was put on display before the world. Redirected a feral claw with a punch. Shocked the solar plexus with an elbow. Black-fisted the nose to daze. Employed body shot, then weakened the knees. feeble counterattack intercepted with elbow block. Targeted windpipe to stun. Released limiter and executed coup de grâce with a haymaker. Full summary; torn ligaments, 3 cracked rib, 4 fracture, nose broken, throat damage and dislocated jaw. Ability to threatened: removed. Complete mental and physical recovery time: no one care. Time resumed, and Luxinna became a blur. Sorin barely comprehended what happened. Something fast knocked his lightning-infused fist upward. A truck caved his chest. Black object resembling a sledge hammer hit his nose. His ribs cracked and left knee painfully folded in a wrong angle. He tried to punch, but his weak attack went sideways. Then a blur smacked his throat. Sorin Enma caught sight of a jaw-dropping fist, crackling with power, traveled to his jaw. “Oh, sh-“ A direct impact rang. Sorin Enma blasted across the ground. His brain barely started extracting the chain of event resulting in his immediate high velocity travel. Emotionally, Sorin was cratered. He usually put on a fight. Sure, Tai Hua and Solaron bounced him like a basketball, but at least Sorin registered them coming. Even his regular tormenter Shyme needed over three minutes to beat him. But this… this was real humiliation. He didn’t even realize what hit him. His opponent launched no specialty. The masked woman disassembled Sorin like jigsaw using raw close-quarter-combat at speeds barely any 33 Stars could respond. It was unfair. How could she handle him so brutally even with [Divine Beast Raiment] boosting his Stats to rival Tai Hua? Sorin slammed prone into the earth, but his indignation refused to surrender. Sorin’s Storage Ring flashed as the dogged Enma refused to surrender. He needed to counter-attack with that. A silver object appeared in his hand, but Luxinna entered before he could arm the grenade. She wrenched the object from his hand after disabling him with a kick in the ball. Sorin felt his Storage Ring being pulled from his fingers as a foot stomp his face to sleep nation. Luxinna barely got a look at Sorin’s final weapon when Sun Senwei teleported behind her, surrounded by wind. She felt Aryssa Mana snaking around to bind her movement and saw Mamacia secretly sneaking to her needles. Sadly, Holyworth’s binding was obsolete. Circumstances forced the Dawn to adapt to curse and direct body manipulation a month ago as Hikma’s [Nicholas] and Rem flinging sparring partners like a sack of potatoes became herculean sparring infamy. HD invested and invented a new technique. They commandeered their Mana as thin armor to conduct energy from attack and curses off body. Some like Hikma even learned to use it to manipulate external energy. While successful, the ability remained incomplete, unable to nullify heavy objects like boulder or train. Still, it worked phenomenally against [Tenshou], bindings spell, metaphysical and an energy-base attack. They named this barrier [Aura]. [Aura] helped restore a measure of balance to the sparring room. Statistically, the proficiency of [Aura] corresponded to understanding and manipulation of Mana — best represented by WIS stat. Rem possessed the strongest followed by Hikma, but Luxinna’s protection was no slouch. She couldn’t match Hikma’s mastery, but a mere Holy Church binding couldn’t stop her. Hell, every Horizon Dawn member could at least resist Rem’s mental beat-down. They would rather be caught dead than folding to Holy Church holier than thou restraining spell. [Overflow] Aryssa watched her control spell shattered, and the beating resumed faster than she blinked. … After she finished offscreening the 33 Stars, the elf found herself in a pickle. “So Sorin ambush you with this,” Luxinna showed the girl the silver grenade she plucked from Sorin’s hand. Beside her was the 4 elite of the 33 Stars bound and impaled with [Static Glass] needles to induce paralysis. “It exploded, killing five of you in the instant.” “Y-yes,” the girl replied. “Do you recognize what it is?” “N-No,” another girl said. Luxinna hung around Rem enough to know the jig. “An arms trade…” Suddenly, something suddenly groaned loudly. “Fuck you,” Mamacia struggled as her countermeasure against paralysis kicked in. “I don’t care how bloody ridiculous you are. A masked joke would never inherit the Isle of Knowledge’s authority.” “Well, I have two jokes to tell,” Luxinna stated coldly as she pocketed the explosive. “First, you are a savage little brat who need to learn humanity and humility. Second, there aren’t any inheritance here. Hell, I doubt Alcra is even alive.” Silence. Aryssa Holyworth’s mouth hung open like a goldfish. The answer caught the other conscious 33 Stars by surprise. “What are you saying!?” Mamacia was in shock. It was Luxinna’s turn to be flabbergasted. “Wait. You guys came here with no research or understanding of Alcra Shaxter?” Holyworth’s face told Luxinna the entire unfortunate tale. Luxinna would be disappointed if she wasn’t so outrage. “Incredible. You entered without knowing the rule, the game or the examiner. Risking your life in a lottery without researching the context or backup plan. Do you even do any testing? No wonder this place turns into a brigand fest within the first ten minutes. Unbelievable. I spend several hours saving clueless hamsters who keep leaping at the gold-plated mountain like an overeager magpie. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? Are you all relate to lemmings?” The crowd in front of Luxinna went into silence. They never saw event from Luxinna’s angle. They saw a massive mountain of opportunities worth risking death, but they never dug deeper beyond what the word of mouth told them. The knight of Dawn’s overwhelming power and her criticism illustrated how unrealistically suicidal their entire plan spelled. Mamacia sneered. “You act like you know!” “Wait!” One girl yelled before eyeing nervously at Sorin’s disabled slave pinned by several [Static Glass] shackles. “Do Ms…” “Ace. The name is Ace.” “Okay,” the girl squeaked. “What does Ms. Ace know about this competition?” “Wow, smart girl,” Luxinna found it pleasantly surprise to find a keen listener. Clearly, it was too early to judge the collective IQ of the participant. “Since you ask nicely, I will tell you a tale of woe. The story of Alcra Shaxter; the genius, the fighter and a good man.” … On the farther section of the forest of the forest, Hikma narrated the same story. “Alcra was born the middle-child in a loving family of five. He had 2 brothers. His family is normal. They weren’t rich nor poor. A perfect image of a middle-class. Alcra grew surrounded by love. He was a curious kid, often drove his parent and older sibling’s crazy with questions. His father, being a supportive man, sent him to apprentice under the late Dr. Ehto Semmelweis. Semmelweis was quite a character. He graduated with honor from Balperia scientific academy at the top of his class, but his controversial opinion and papers on the vampires offended the mainstream opinion and he never shifted beyond managing self-employed clinic. Semmelweis died, mocked and shunned by the research community. But in all honesty, my friend believe Semmelweis might be on to something.” The Aztellic and the elves listened intensely. “How do you find out?” Emily asked. “Research and creating countermeasures are my friend hobbies,” Hikma shrugged. “Dream might not be the strongest amongst us, but his insight is downright frightening. Let circle back at the main topic. Semmelweis taught Alcra everything he knew. However, happy times wouldn’t last. Unfortunate circumstance happened.” … “His older brother died in a training accident. Well, we suspect he got caught up in a joint assassination plot from the Holy Church and Elypt. Apparently, some big shot wanted to kill a member of Balperia council and Shaxter’s older brother applied for the wrong job at the wrong time.” Luxinna glared at her prisoner. “Must be familiar to you morons? I will bet the 33 Stars do this all the time.” Luxinna continued the tale as the beaten assembly listened. Mamacia and Aryssa deduced they won’t like the Aesop at all. Meanwhile, Sun Senwei and Sorin still enjoyed their quarantine with the Sandman. “His elder brother’s death and his mentor’s disgrace convinced Alcra the authority is the enemy of progress. Hence, he joined hand with several aspiring academic rebels to create the Isle of Knowledge, breaking off from Balperia. It was around this time Shaxter faced a second tragedy; his little brother caught a rampaging epidemic and died. It hit especially hard given that the plague was curable, but thank to Alchemist Association’s ego, Enma’s price-gouging and Seven Continental Alliance performing within the expected disappointment, the pandemic reached a devastating height and decimated Alcra’s childhood home. Finally, to atomize the bridge between the future world-smartest-man and anything resembling the status quo, those vain morons had the galls to cover-up the disaster.” … In Horizon Dawn’s base-camp Rem was recounting the detail. His brain combing over every detail of the Dawn assembled through [Clairvoyance] and Contemplation. After his losses, it was no surprised Alcra held authority figures and media in disdain. However, losing his brother also fuel his desire to protect those less fortunate than him. Alcra was a true philanthropist. Whether it be Eco-dam, bio-engineer crops or easily available, low-cost material; all of Alcra’s contributions to IK directly helped the less fortunate among humanity. He partnered with Zenith Lochwain to build a private security company that gave slums’ kid a chance at life. Alcra impressively mentored both Santo Ahoy and Madam Marmel in their youth. He designed fortification, green houses and affordable multimedia entertainment. He created oceanic farms and several next generation conservatories. Even now, Ehto Utilities found by Shaxter supplied Elypt’s most underprivileged with water, energy and employment. The man was architect and funder of Intercontinental Peace Association with goal deescalating international conflict and provided humanitarian aids. Alcra Shaxter was more than a scientist. He was the man who spent 40 years fighting for a better world. A true Horizon Dawn’s candidate if they existed back then. The man nursed his dying parent on their deathbed. If Buddha himself would praise anyone, Shaxter would be among the top candidates. Hence, the entire scenario facing them made no goddamn sense. … In the wood, Hikma continued Rem’s internal monologue in his story-telling. “Color me doubtful, but I found it impossible the man who spent his entire being advocating for benevolence and progress to start a kill-tournament rewarding Leprechaun gold. This is a guy who sponsored a kid in his community to reach his dream as a spiritual leader. The math was impossible. This entire incubating disaster doesn’t a share a strand of Alcra Shaxter’s DNA.” … “Yes, we are aware Alcra could change,” Luxinna resumed the tale. “Hence, we research the unwritten history. Official record states Alcra quitted the limelight 6 years ago after disagreement with Director El Acerbia on the Isle of Knowledge’s direction. This was where the hard question started? Where did Alcra go? What happened in that six years gap? What could change a model human like him into maniac using nervous-system control drone to engineer a massacre? It took time, but we finally got the clues in order.” … Rem reflected. First, they worked back from the assumption that this event connected to Alcra. Thus, the man must live within this area for sometimes. They selected several town and hamlet that Alcra might hypothetically use to resupply. Suddenly, viola, they found several suspects. Then they narrowed down the search by questioning the locals and began producing the times lines and community models for post-IK Alcra Shaxter. The model answered many questions, but raised a truck worth more complication. … Horizon Dawn finished relaying theory. “For three years after leaving the Isle of Knowledge, Alcra retired with his only contact being a remote town 1.65 kilometers from this forest. He visited there monthly to resupplies and befriended an orphanage. The last witness in the timelines claimed Alcra promised to teach her how to make portable Mana-battery the next month he visited.” “That was three years ago. The girl waited from then until today, and Grandpa Shaxter never returned. It was impossible for his personally to go 180 in a month — real life was not an episode of RWBY — nor it explained his disappearance. The likeliest explanation for the snafu is this entire kill-fest was the brainchild of an imposter pretending to be Shaxter. All possibilities showed Alcra was killed or captured by this enigmatic malefactor. Personally, we believed it was the later. The purpose of this event wasn’t finding an inheritor but to gather as many experiment subjects for reason unknown. In conclusion, the competition is a massive fraud in progress. This is a trap.” … Down beneath the earth, a series of ominous cyan LED blinked. Unexpected variable entered its equation. Reprocessing input. Path of progression shifted — launching phase two.

"Remember, Sol,” his father often taught. “Learn from my mistake. The low-born are persistent creatures. No matter how frustrating it is, hide your fang and royal prestige, convince them you are their brood. Remember, you can only return your pain a thousand-fold once when you gain the supreme authority” “Father?” “In the past, I and your mother received this lesson the hard way. I acted too mightily for my station, and those low-lives gave my brother an excuse to banish me. You must avenge me, Sol. You must win back the throne and make those low-blood regrets the day they banish us.” “Yes, father.” Those were the warped lessons that created Sol Vice Grandy. … Back in Venistalis’ Fire-quarter, the battle started warming. “Ace,” Kruger blinked. He never heard of an elf who called herself that. Luxinna swung [Historia] in a defensive form, putting herself between the innocent victims and Sol Grandy. A mere hundred-meters marked a no-man zone. Sol Grandy sneered and signaled the mud into action. No matter how many times the elf crushed his minions, his spawns would regenerate to fight again. There was no urgency to deal with. A royalty who attained supreme prestige didn’t need to fear mere mortal. He surpassed death! Who did the elf think she is to challenge him? It was obvious Sol hadn’t deduced Luxinna’s depth or else he wouldn’t go for something predictable. “[Assault Flora] low-power shooting,” Luxinna whispered her command. “Calculate and release.” Nails of glass launched into the shifting piles of muds, destroying the monster before it reformed. “You notice my creation's immortality?” Sol jeered. “You are sharp, but that means you must realize the pointlessness of destroying an unkillable army! This is the height separated the ruled and the ruler!” “We must take him—” Kruger tried to give his input, but Luxinna’s action beaten him. “[Flower of Victory: Paralyzation Round]” The nail pinning the mud sparked with electrical current, paralysing them and ending their attempt to reform. Stun silence hung over the battlefield. “What?” Sol’s hundred crimson eyes blinked. “I shock the mud,” Luxinna explained. “It might be immortal, but if it can’t reform, it can’t be a threat.” “How?” Sol’s voice echoed in confusion. “You seem to be under the misconception that speed and power are all my flowers have,” Luxinna savagely filled the air with more blooming [Assault Flora]. “Let me show you the real firework.” Extrapolated Arcana Propagation Sub-routine or EAPS was a signature creation of Horizon Dawn’s member. It was a combination of True Magic, Skills and Arcane. [Flowers of Victory] combined Luxinna’s [Serene Glass] and [Glass Weaving] skill to create a rail-gun and projectile enhanced by her [Child of Lightning] passive. The combination provided the trait for her [Assault Flora]. But speed and power alone was not enough to earn victory. Only by transforming the round into a versatile specialty shell with variety selections of lightning Arcane did victory become assured. Name by its co-creator Melody Solarmaria for its unfailing crushing power and versatility, [Flower of Victory] would blanket the mud of defeat with a brilliant display of thunder. “[Flower of Victory: Discharge Round]” Luxinna pointed [Historia] at Sol’s monstrous forms. “Volley fire! Blanket Annihilation!” She twisted the sword like a key to a nuclear silo. Sol saw the garden of jasmine floating beside Luxinna glittered like stars. Before he reacted, a nail cracking with electricity appeared an inch from his mouth. Boom! The glass war-head embedded into Sol’s monstrous chest and exploded. The golden discharged charred his flesh of energy and crimson mud. Sol felt the shock of the attack disrupting the very bond holding his World Enemy’s flesh together. Hundred eyes rolled in its ethereal socket from pain. It was no longer possible to take this carnage half-heartedly. Despite being reborn as a species that ended worlds, the elf had the power to destroy him. That thought surfaced in his mind for a split second. It was a split second too late to react against Luxinna’s remaining bombing run. 25 more shells landed on Sol. Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Countless more explosions pockmarked the land. Sol’s body caught in the middle of the barrage storm. His body ripped apart, bleeding mud sprays, paralyzed from static electricity. Whatever celestial organ Sol had turned to mush. His innards torn asunder, and he screeched a gutting pain of death as Luxinna’s barrage knocked down his immense ego. The on-looker watched the performance in awe. “Who the hell is she?” One noble muttered. “How could we never hear of someone with such power?” “Explosion,” Eliza the victim muttered. “Explosion are scary.” Andries looked at the elf in awe. The fan-girl’s switch that laid dormant for the last seventeen-years of her life flipped open full-blast. The entrance, the symbol, the way she posture herself and her overwhelming power — it was too much to resist. No, she must maintain her cool as a noble. “Onee-sama,” one noble-lady spoke what Andries had in her mind. Later that day, the two would become soul-mates bonded by the blood of an undying fan. Luxinna — oblivious to the fact she single-handedly created a new all-powerful clique in Venistalis — popped out a health tablet and started chewing. “What is that, Onee—” Andries caught herself before rephrasing her question. “Miss, are you fine?” Luxinna gave the girl a reassuring smile. “Oh, this is just some recovery medication,” Luxinna explained. “It is the first time I use that technique, so it cost a little more from me than expect.” “FIRST TIME!” Chamomile underwent another mood-swing. “YOU NEVER PRACTICE THAT TECHNIQUE BEFORE!” “Yeah, but my concept is solid, so it works fine aside from some over-expenditure.” “YOUR MANA SHOULD BE DRIAN AFTER THAT BOMBARDMENT!” “Nah, I just run of steam a little,” Luxinna winded her arms. “I am back to 75%.” The girl elf’s animal instinct tensed. “Everyone, step-back. He isn’t down!” “No way!” One noble-girl said. “Ace Onee-sama already peppered him with enough power to turn the royal-knights into dust!” “HEY!” Chamomile yelled. “Shut up, Lady Chamomile,” Another noble girl verbally kicked Chamomile in the face. “You are second away from turning on us!” “Yeah, Eliza, chain-up Lady Chamomile, we cannot trust her with any weapon.” “DON’T YOU DARE!” Kruger didn’t even bother helping. “Elragorn, you bought this on yourself,” Kruger glanced at the male nobles. “You guys can use magic, right? Back her up! A World Enemy won’t die so easily.” Right on cure, the dust cleared to reveal an enormous boulder of gray rocks dotted with crimson vein. The grotesque construction pulsed like a malformed heart, sending a waved of concern to all involvement. “What is that?” Eliza the victim trembled. Luxinna answered sternly and calmly. “He assimilate the surrounding rock and soil into himself to help insulate himself from electrical discharge,” Luxinna readied her [Flora]. Sol’s body trembled and started erupting with pieces of rock coated with a crimson vein. The rocks shimmered with volatile power as it fell down like blood-soaked meteors. Fully prepare, Luxinna intercepted fire with more rail-gun projectiles. The supersonic projectile hit an artillery, exploding it in a shower of dark-red shock-wave. The gust from the explosion blew across the battlefield like a hurricane. Immense wind nearly tossed the crowd of survivors like a rag-doll. Luxinna skidded a foot back as the wind nearly toppled her footing. Luxinna cursed, perceiving the dozens of arriving gust storm. “[Guard Flora],” the elf cast. A huge lotus unfurled and shielded the entire group away from the gale. Not wasting time, Luxinna directed her jasmine to return the fire. However, her direct hit just ricocheted off Sol’s body in a spark of red light. Luxinna bit back a curse. She needed higher penetration.  Sol fired back with half-dozen crimson rocks that Luxinna shot down with her nails. The abomination rearranged its attack angle and Luxinna followed suit with her interception. Red detonation rocked the sky and earth every time the two combatant’s attack met. Above. Flank. Forward. Explosions rocked every axis of the thin center lines where the duel of range supremacy churned. The aftermath of those furious of exchange turned the area into a hurricane disaster-zone. A fire-fight so catastrophic the Grand Empire should be thankful it boiled down in a destroyed area . The battle raged so intensely that Andries still felt the immense back-draft from behind the glass flower. Then she saw an image that cowed her mind to submission — Sol’s boulder like body swelled in size. It pulsed like a like a balloon on the verge of blowing out the air of annihilation on anything standing in front of it. “Ac…” A golden light answered her query. Luxinna’s sword — [Historia] — transformed into a bow. “She know archery?” One noble blinked. “She is an elf, you moron!” A fangirl yelled at her boyfriend. “Are there any elf that can’t use a bow?” Luxinna wanted to tell the girl that Magnolia’s talent with long-bow was questionable, but she was only six then. Maybe her sister improved with solid guidance from professional teachers, but Luxinna doubted it. “But where is her arrow?” One pot-bellied noble surfaced after a solid minute hiding from the hurricane. “Right here,” Luxinna answered, stretching out her hand and summoned one of her [Assault Flower]. The sculpture flew from unfurling into wires of glass, weaving a glass arrow with a head of lotus and drill for its seed pods. Luxinna nocked the arrow and jumpstarted the current. She grinned. Her ideas paid off.  Luxinna’s battle-style was heavy-aggro. She had an excellent range-arsenal and numbers for an overwhelming opening. But like all mono-red master, her effectiveness torpedoed against quality and regeneration, forcing her to end fight quickly before she lost her momentum. Her solution was to launch a rapid quantity of haymaker before her opponent. Hence, she adjusted [Assault Flora] with charge capacitor. Something easily arrange with her processing speed and memory. While each rail-gun shot costed a little more, the Jasmine could save a substantial amount of energy until she cracked the flower opened and released it all at once. Although these energy-counters might not mean a lot, but the stored energy allowed her to top off attack’s cost faster rate than her opponent. The technique became even more impressive once people realized Luxinna had more than a dozen of those flowers active. [Serene Glass] coated Luxinna’s bow, and a massive rail grew out to help dissipate the recoil. Her battle with Chuang taught her to adapt her technique for recoil dissipation. The elf graduated from being a one-shot wonder and into the league of human siege-breaker. [Grand Assault Flora: Penetrator Lotus] The lotus arrow spun like a drill and she fired that shot. It spun with lightning and wind. To a passer-by, the shot vanished in the flash of lightning and followed by a gust of wind and splintered glass. The arrow left a trail of dust where it past and punch into Sol’s armored body. The arrow — enhanced by [Thunderbolt] and [Storm] Arcane — chewed into Sol and blew past it with the raw force. To make the success more spectacular, Luxinna’s arrow destroyed the shell containing the energy Sol’s charged for his haymaker—a haymaker Luxinna beaten him to. The crimson energy exploded out of Sol in a wave of red-light, flattening everything in sight and sweeping the battlefield in a blinding detonation. [Guard Flora] buckled under the weight of the wave, but it held. Luxinna breathed a sigh of relief and gave every survivor behind her a thumb-up. “Yep, all clear!” “YOU MUST BE KIDDING ME!” The deranged voice of Sol instantly disapproved the elf’s assumption. With that, Andries spoke the universal sentence blaring in every cranium. “How is he alive!” Andries yelled. “How can he receive those hits and still live?” That day, the dust faded again, revealing dried branch of neon-red vein with eyes growing from it like an abominable bamboo. Sol survived Luxinna’s [Grand Assault Flora] but the attack and subsequent backfire of his own energy blast carved his body into an oozing mess. Despite the shattered, fragmented body he got reduced to, Sol Grandy was angrier than hurt. “I wait for these moments for years! Tolerate mingling with those dirty-blooded mutt for the moment I claim my birthright! I painstakingly learn that troublesome smile, comforting to those sorry excuses of a breed-horse. Lower myself to greet those insignificant rugs. I toil and hide until my patience bled. Do you understand how painful my ordeal is? And you dare take that sweet reward from me!? FROM ME? Who do you think you are, bitch? Those traitors are my property! I have earned that right! Who are you to interfere!?” Sol intense vitriol scared the nobles to the bone. How did such monstrous beings fly under the radar for half a decade? His madness jolted the noble to their obvious complacency. Luxinna serenely answered the question. “They are not your property,” Luxinna declared. “I am fucking knight of justice—interfering is my job's description!” Sol screeched. His branch like body bulking up into a muscular behemoth with a hundred eyes. His gigantic body charged forward with an attempt to kill, but Luxinna was ready. She fired a few [Assault Flora] at Sol, but the World Enemy’s momentum remained strong. Sol lined everything he had into closing the distances. Out-muscling Luxinna in close-quarter was his only path to snatch a semblance of victory. The nail pierced Sol’s body and went through it, but he fought past the pain and continued toward Luxinna. Two more nail — rigged with [Paralyse] — embedded his flesh, forcing Sol to shed his affected Amalgam flesh out of his body. Complete obsession dictated him to take down the elf. No matter the injury befell him, he must reduce the battle to a melee to stand a chance. [Serene Glass: Overdrive I (Nerve)] Luxinna smashed an [Assault Flora] with [Historia] and vanished, appearing in front of Sol. Swirl of liquid glass wrapped around [Historia] as the stored energy cleared her activation condition. “Take this!” Sol threw a fist the size of the bus at her, but Sol had zero knowledge about [Overdrive]. Infront of that skill, Sol needed to accept the fact any attack slower than supersonic was useless. Luxinna ducked below Sol’s fist in a limbo maneuver. She twisted within a hairbreadth distance and unleashed a [Overload Blade] with [Historia], severing Sol’s leg. The appendage the size of the bridge’s column fell and gravity took its turn at dragging Sol to the ground. Luxinna twisted her swing and launched her finisher. It was a final evolution of [Overload Blade]. Born from the principle of Luxinna original [Lotus] liquid-glass beam. Combining pressure with [Hurricane] Arcane to maximize and focus the immense frictional heat and world-shattering vibration cutter, it was the sword whose swirled glitter like diamond who’s fated to part the cloud and revealed the stars. [Jewel Sword: Extension] The glittering blade extended the reached of [Historia] by 10 meters and bisected Sol Vice Grandy right down the middle. “How?” The common-sense shattering power of a no-name elf soloing a World Enemy broke what little remain of Chamomile’s mind. “How the hell did Lightwell miss someone this outrageous?” 

Rank 3 of the 33 Stars — Charon Sol — poured Shyme Enma’s her tea with a billion dollar smile on her face. The fox-girl watched the colored liquid trickled into the porcelain cup. The situation was surreal. The girl a league stronger than her was calling her a master and making her tea. Arrogant, volatile, independent — those words described Chuang’s entire being. Now — right before Shyme — that statement turned upside its head. “I want to apologize for my tea, Lady Shyme. I fear I am new to this job,” Chuang — Charon Sol—bowed politely. “I need to ask whether you prefer Lady Shyme or Mistress Shyme.” Shyme squirmed. She felt uncomfortable with this getup. Somehow the term mistress flipped an internal switch she didn’t know exist. “I-I will go with mistress,” Shyme stuttered, turning redder than tomato. Somehow, she couldn’t wipe the derpy smile from her face. “Yes, mistress,” Charon bowed politely. “I have taken care of the rest of the work you left the previous maid.” “All of them?” Shyme blinked. “Yes, the books in the library is in its proper shelves. I have complete and air the laundry. I have cleaned all fifteen of the master bedrooms and living rooms. I also finished checking the spell-works maintaining the mansion,” Charon answered crisply. “Currently, the automaton I made are copying the files from previous years.” “Automatons?” Shyme blinked again. “You can still build that?” Charon bashfully fiddled. “I self-studied about puppet making art when I was young,” Charon’s memory resurfaced alongside her answer. “I have little material to work with so I can only build basic automatons that scan the document and copy the text down using a robotic limb.” “Where do you even get a material? How?” “The used item that supposed to get thrown out tomorrow,” Charon answered. “I thought it is a waste given that I still have many works to do, so I disassembled several of the usable part from the junks. Sir Lancaster let me borrow the inscriber. The rest I had to do is reassembling the scrap into robotic automatons and inscribed the spell-works circuit.” “You mean robot does all of your work?” Shyme gaped. “The cleaning? Yes. But I work on the library myself,” Charon giggled. “I love reading, so it pains me that the library is in such a mess.” Shyme’s mind got bat to the orbit of Mar. Was this the brash girl infamous for her explosive temper and consistent lost to Tai Hua Tianshang? Even without her memory, her instinct as a puppet-maker was still legendary enough to build working automaton from junks. Shyme studied the lovely girl in front of her, stunned to submission. Shyme’s brain suddenly clicked. Now that Shyme Enma reflected, Chuang’s beef with Tai Hua was the only thing most knew about those two. Shyme never heard Chuang talked about any other subject except Tai Hua and how much she hated her rival. Everything Chuang accomplished from the age of 10 — every spell mastered, every puppet built — was for a single obsession: defeating Tai Hua Tianshang. In that moment, Shyme arrived at the question quietly planted in her path by Rem. What could Chaung accomplished when she wasn’t blind by her fatal obsession and inferiority complex? Shyme gulped. She must ask that enigmatic human about this. Was Charon Sol a part of a vast scheme Remus Breaker sowed for the future? … The man in a blue-robe stumbled down the alleyway. How was this happening? It should be easy money. How did they find out about him? It started a month ago when a certain figure approached him inside the locker room. They knew that he was deep in debt and gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Every night after that fateful day, he followed their orders to a letter. The request wasn’t that hard—give out several patrol routes, help cover for several kidnappers. Easiest money ever made. A life of a worthless street urchin for a healthy stack of credit. A fireball blasted the wall next to the man. He turned to see his worst nightmare. A pale figure floated from the roof and landed ominously in the dark alley. Shadow framed his pale face. But there is no hiding the strongest of the royal-mages in the Grand Empire. “Captain Wayward,” the blue-robe stumbled back. “I can explain this. Please, I can tell you ever-“ “You disappoint me, Roiche,” Wayward’s glowed with blue light. Crash! The wall on the building's side crumbled, and a tattooed mage rush out, stretching his hand in a bid of desperation. “Stop it, Wayward! He is one of-“ A blue flare erupted from Wayward’s palm and engulfed the blue-robe mage. Roiche never had time to scream. The flame burnt his skin and reduced him into a skeleton in a second, leaving nothing behind. Vice-Capitan Kruger watched his leader reduced a man to ash. His eyes widened with a mixture of horror and outrage as he stepped in an unresponsive daze toward the corpse and knelt. “You can take him alive,” Kruger muttered. “Why?” After a beat of silence, Wayward picked his answer. “I need result.” It happened in an instant. Kruger sprang out from the ground and swung his fist at Wayward. The blow collided with Wayward’s face, but the Capitan of the royal mage didn’t even flinch. Kruger ignored how badly outmatch he was, grabbed Wayward’s collar and screamed at his friend. “Result? This is Roiche! What type of mission is so important that you throw away your comrade?” Wayward looked at the red-hair buffoons with disdain. “Throw away? He betrays us first, doesn’t he?” Kruger trembled. “You don’t know! He might have another reason!” “Is that the excuse you plan to bring to  Marchioness Marmel?” Kruger froze. Then his face scrunched up in rage as he howled as his captain. “You are selling our own to that bitch! We are the royal-mages. We are not the protector of some hedge noble with a decent popularity with farmers. We do not answer to those filthy thieves in the slum. We answer to the Emperor and the royal family and our own. That is all our lives matter to you? One stared from a fat grandma with cash and you become her dog.” “That fat grandma with cash feeds million of people, Kruger.” “She is not my boss!” “You are right,” Wayward pressed his palm on Kruger’s stomach. “I am.” Kruger only felt the heat as a blast of force hit his stomach and sent him smashing into the building. Kruger painfully gasped for air, but the fiery bird smashing into his face a second later blew his consciousness to rubbles. “That is a warning shot, Vice-Captain,” Wayward fixed his collar as Kruger’s body fell off the brick wall. “If you want to question me, I suggest you get powerful enough to challenge my rank.” “Are you fine, Captain Wayward?” A youthful man in glasses peaked his head out from the alley’s corner and winced at the unconscious Kruger. Wayward stole a look at his knock-out Vice-Captain. “Nothing,” Wayward said with stone-cold eyes. “It appear I am getting sentimental.” Sol sighed. “I don’t know you are sentimental type, Boss,” Sol smiled warmly. “Stop with the tease, Third-wave Sol,” Wayward retorted. “At least this will placate the Madam for a while.” … In the distance, Remus Breaker opened his eyes as his consciousness returned from Remote Viewing. “Our lead is dead,” Rem declared to the empty room. “Update that on the thread.” Scathach looked at Hikma, who started typing furiously on Za Wa. “Okay, I have been wondering for a while now, but how did you trace that guy from hundreds of royal-mages in a five days.” “It takes a day and a half,” Rem corrected. “The answer is the Earth’s greatest detective: The Internet. If you think the explosive in Millian is dangerous, it is nothing to compare to the web.” Melody glanced at the computer’s screen. “Rem, I take back whatever criticism I have on your world,” the demoness stared wide eyes at the replies on the thread. “First guns and now this 4chan, your world is fucking awesome.” Cytortia peaked over. “I only see a lot of hate thread on black people and jews.” Cytortia unknowingly opened the floodgate of rants from the internet expert. “Because they are LARPing as a white supremacist and Nazi. It is a way to keep the mass off the site because most of the population are easily uncontrollable idiots living in a city like Seattle and San Francisco.” “Still, what the deal with this chaos,” Luxinna scrolled down the list. “It is like I am witnessing the meeting of xenophobic demons.” “Lux,” Rem looked at the elf as if she was an imbecile. “There is no site more inclusive and honest than 4chan. Every post got judged not by the poster’s identity, but by its own merit. If you get banned, you can hop back with a refresh. The board is literally open to all kinds of people regardless of ethnicity with equal treatment under anonymity. This is humanity’s true self when no one is imposing order.” Luxinna starred long and hard at the board. “Wow, I think I my faith in humanity just got crushed.” Rem smiled. “It is true. This board did some pretty fuck up thing at a time, but they also busted up child-porn rings more than once, solved multiple anonymous cases, tracked down an animal abuser regularly, triangulated a terrorist’s location from videos, sent a celebrity to Alaska, tricked people into microwaving their phone, and cheered up lonely people. It is the solid proof human are bastard, but even if these autistic no-lifer still have enough kindness inside to a help a stranger, there is hope for even the worse of us.” “That is why you are using them to track down our murderer?” “These guys are collectively the best detectives in the world. With data from Chuang and Madam, our victory is inevitable. Plus, Phantasia’s low opinion on Earth and the anonymity of the board make our investigation nearly undetectable. Our culprit won’t realize that we already triangulate the ritual’s location tonight. You must give it to the internet: deducing the previous locations from our mages’ identity, the ritual-zone and property registries is downright ingenious. They even theorized several routes the kidnapper can use and their address. It narrowed the list down to what I can work with CCC. With the kidnapper’s faces in our hand after Hikma’s secret visit to the previous locale, the murder party is officially over.” Everyone but Hikma paused on their track and looked at Rem. “That’s it?” Luxinna barely believed her ears. “But how? Wayward already killed our lead, right?” Rem snorted. “Little Wayward misunderstand that he have plenty of time to eliminate the lead to the royal-mages and bury the case back to obscurity. He doesn’t notice that the game is pretty much over the moment I leaked the data to the nasty hand of the internet. Even if he kills Roiche earlier, it won’t be able to stop the internet from discovering our link and patrol zones. The story will end the same way. The only thing Wayward accomplished today is silencing one verbal witness.” Rem stood up and declared. “I call the vote! Tonight, we will launch Operation Pedo Hunt. Using Breaker CCC and all the variable our investigation provided, every bastard responsible for this mess will get their ass handed to them by midnight. Melody I want you to contact the Madam and forward her our investigation. Tell her to have these following houses booby-trap for a surprise raid.” “Wait,” Melody skimmed through the document. “How do you identify these guys?” “That is me,” Hikma raised his hand up. “I took a trip to the previous crimes scenes and used [Psychometry] to witness the murderer’s name and faces.” Hikma’s fist clenched. “After the vision I saw, there are no way in hell I forgot their faces.” “Then I cross-reference those faces with Breaker’s CCC to discover their hideout.” Rem said. “Tonight, we threw these scumbags into a prison row alongside their puppeteer: Orwell Mehest.” “STOP!” Scathach yelled. “When did you two put this together? You still stuck in the no clue zone five days ago! What is stopping you from using the internet then?” Rem pulled out one picture of a victim: a cat-girl. “The internet picks their cases,” Rem embarrassingly admitted. “There are only one shot to convince them and I need to pick the Achilles’ heel. An innocent, cute cat-girl with siblings who worked her hardest only to get kidnap, rape and murder? That tragedy will activate even most apathic of 4channers.” That explanation stunned the room. “You are waiting for a beastman victim?” Luxinna twitched. “Hey, I don’t make their taste,” Rem shrugged. “These people have a soft-spot for animals and hate urban woman. An innocent cat-girl is pretty much god-bless for them and the surest method to fire their engine.” Cytortia decided she wanted a full explanation then. “Okay, Rem, using my command as a Director I request you and Hikma explained the case, I want the full picture.” “Yeah, I am so confused,” Luxinna said. “When did it happen and how did Mehest do it?” “Elementary, my dear,” Rem spoke. “Hikma, I will describe the case, achieved this down for future reference.” Hikma started scribbling “It started a month ago when Orwell Mehest caught wind that Enma Shyme posses an unidentified tome officially named the Archive of Deathless. Mehest recognized the Archive of Deathless for what it is, sneaked into the Enma’s clan manor in Venistalis and stole the book.” “Two questions: How did Mehest recognize the book and how did the measly ranked 30th of the 33 Star sneaked past the Enma’s clan defense?” Scathach asked. “To answer both questions: Orwell Mehest secretly descend from the tome’s authors — The Deathless Clan. The clan specializes in soul-base spell-casting. These masteries also includes the spell to shift into a spirit form and transverse any barrier.” “Wait,” Scathach’s eyebrows scrunched. “Those guys should be exterminated ages ago by the—” Scathach’s eyes widened. “Oh. Shit.” “Bingo, the Deathless Clan got genocide ages ago by the Grand Empire sponsored by the Holy Church. They refused to surrender to the Grand Empire during its expansion era and got annihilated. The clan’s heritages and artifacts either got destroyed or scattered. Orwell Mehest watches this city every night to remind himself of how his ancestor barely escape alive and it fuels him with an obsessive sense of revenge Breaker’s CCC received from a mile away. When he heard one of his families' sacred text got bought from the black market by a plucky girl from Enma Clan and left to rot in her collection, he did the predictable thing.” Rem continued. “Dear Orwell then performed the ritual his ancestor would disapprove,” Rem said. “He anonymously hired a bunch of the slum’s hoodlums and scumbags to kidnap orphan children no one important will care about and sacrifice them to a ritual that will nuke Venistalis and make him a god. For extra measure, he contacted his connection in the criminal underworld with share hatred for Grand Empire and offered to make the Empire suffer for some aid. The connection decided that with the current carnage in the Phantasia—Heavenly Daughter’s rampage in Starland and the opening of that tomb in the Isle of Knowledge — the god’s attentions are sufficiently diverted for a bet. They plan to have the agent they planted inside the capital aid Mehest and backstab the capital forces when the party starts.” “And the agent planted here is Wayward,” Hikma added. “Scathach,” Melody asked, stone-faced. “Just how many folks have beefs with Grand Empire?” Scathach couldn’t answer. “Mel, please don’t ask that question to the petulant children playing house in the sky,” Rem brutally answered. “She cannot answer because she ignored all of this mess during its conception and now we have to fix their mess for them. And we are lucky we pull his pant down this early.” Rem laughed sarcastically. “If the time-table is right on track, the royal families — together with the rest of the generals — will return from their stay in the border within a month. That directly coincide with Mehest’s ritual deadline. If everything went according to his plan, he will net the capital, the royal families and the generals in a fell swoop. You got to hand it too him. If not for us, he would achieve the impossible and level Grand Empire without a fight.” And that night the group of unknown heroes led by a Mafia aided by Pepe the Frog saved the Grand Empire from sure-fire annihilation in the name of all the good in the universe.

Luxinna Drakokia observed at the last memory. Her posture relaxed, freed from the cage she locked herself inside all these years. Finally, the elf understood what the boy said. He knew she still loves her sister despite everything that happened. The boy knew that she loved Magnolia enough to attack him, and he pressed all the buttons. Luxinna's mouth twitched into a smirk. She turned toward the goddess in white. "He was all talk, isn't he?" Luxinna rhetorically asked. "That guy won't kill even if he wants to." "Yes," the goddess smiled knowingly. "He truly believes life is pains, but despite rarely admitting it, he know in through share agony we understand each other misery. That empathy is why we can't see others as a complete monster. Rem grows up knowing about the worse we can reach, and the terrible things we can do to each other. However, parts about growing up are that he eventually learns that some people can choose to be kind and optimistic. Every day Rem got presented with a choice whether to give the best or the worse to people, and he wants the best possible result at the expense of himself." Luxinna frowned. "That guy is everything but optimistic." "Because he isn't naive," Satholia nodded sadly. 'He knows he should expect the worse despite loving the brightest side of humanity. Rem resent that he is in for disappointments, yet, he still follows through because he believes passionately in the best we can be." The darkness around them faded. Stars filled the moonless sky. Meanwhile, the rainbow platform rose from the ground, supplanting the muck as the dominant force of this world. "As their highest leader, I think it is now my turn to pitch," Satholia cleared her throat. "Luxinna Drakokia, will you follow that suicidal path? Are you going to join those two as they climb up the high ground to uphold what is right, even if it makes an entire world their enemies? Or will you choose to live free from all the pain and expectation?" Satholia gently offered her hand. "The choice is yours." Luxinna looked at the woman in front of her. She ultimately found, no, remember. She finally recalled why she poured nine hours a day, every day, for three years into swinging a branch to think it all for the dream of a nine-year-old. Luxinna bit back a giggle. The joke was hilarious.  But if that promise was idiotic, she was fine being an idiot. "So much for growing up," Luxinna grumbled to herself. "Mag was right, after all, I would suck as an heir." The elf girl turned toward the embodiment of all good. "Sorry to say both of your followers kinda suck: one a suicidal maniac and the other is a wimp," Luxinna replied, smiling widely for the first time in three years. "Given that, I suck equally hard, would you mind accepting a homeless reject into your stupid organization?" The elf took the goddess's hand and shook it. "You are in luck," Satholia smiled back with a perfect business grin. "The founder privilege is still in effect. Rem didn't have time to draft the paperwork, so you are safe at the moment." Satholia raised her free hand and clicked her fingers. "Now..." Satholia glared across space and time. "Get off my lawn." ... In the real world, the Paracis Corrupter shook twice and exploded in a blinding explosion. In a wave of miraculous breeze, the raging sea of fire quelled into nothingness. Around Cytortia, the tentacles burnt to ashes in blazes of white flames. Sickly smelling liquid cleared, returning into the spring water. The bud that was the Paracis crumbled and cracked into pieces of charcoal, dissipating peacefully into the wind. But the miracle didn't stop there. A wave of rainbow-light ran across the forest and cleansed all trace of corruption. Flowers that supposed to be dead came back to life against an explanation of this world or the next. The toxic green taint vanished as the wave of restoration went further as it repaired all the harm done in this world. Even the charred portion of the forest rewind back to its original greenery.  Cytortia blinked as she founded herself sitting on a bank of a pristine basin. The scent of flowers rose with the vapor of fog created by the falling water. Music melodious of nature filled the air. It was like everything that had happened was nothing but a nightmare.  The goddess heaved a sigh a relief.  The darkness was gone, and the peace restored. Rem laid among the flowers. A shade of white tinged his originally brown hair, but the boy still smiled contently, believing he finally did some good. Beside him, a figure coated in bright light fell, revealing an elf. After her ordeal, Luxinna Drakokia's cloth was pretty much strips of rags barely holding her modesty. She glanced at that majestic waterfall that was once again dispensing clean water before finally closing her tired eyes and fainted. Cytotia contemplated whether or not she should join them.  Then in front of her appeared the goddess in a white gown and multi-color aura.  ... Kilometers away from the battle, Scathach witnessed the multi-color light. She nodded in awe and took a deep breath.  "I know you are here," the warrior maid said in all her glory while standing on top of a decapitated Hydra. The rest of the corpse burned in behind her, adding another layer of intimidation to the warrior. "Come out, you imbeciles." Groups of elves emerged from the shadow. They were dressed in silver armor brandishing the banner of a massive tree residing near a pristine river. Their armor was light but well furnished with silver-plating protecting all the vital parts and stacked designed for maximum mobility. They elf-forces assembled in a file and knelt before the woman in punk cloth. Some of them looked in awe at the Hydra she slain as they worship her. Two familiar figures came out in front of the armored platoon and bent their knees. One was a familiar elf girl with charcoal black hairs and lilac eyes, and another was- "Artos Jafar," Scathach said.  "It Sevar, Milady," Jafer said indignantly. Several elves began giggling behind him "Please stop calling me with that accursed name. In fact, how did you even hear about it anyway?" Magnolia glared at him reproachfully, before bowing toward the warrior maid some more. Scathach gritted her teeth. Despite being exiled and half-starved, Luxinna held herself a magnitude prouder than her sister. If this was the best Drakokia's blood had to offer, Luxinna must be adopted. "Lady Scathach of Skye, my father sent us here to aid you in the battle against the world enemy. Please--" Thunk! Scathach hurled a spear which narrowly missed Magnolia's head. Sevar understandably went pale and hurriedly scrambled away from his partner. The surrounding elves, numbering over a hundred, subduedly shivered at Scathach's speed. As for the nearly pin-cushioned Magnolia Drakokia, she fearfully rubbed her scalp. Her eyes trembled with concern. She thought about what would happen if the spear was thrown a little bit to the side--the image flashing through her head was terrifying. The two elves suddenly recalled a dangerous woodland animal they met recently. They tried to shove that possibility out of their heads. Such an idea didn't make any sense.  The great Scathatch wouldn't disguise as a honey badger. Moreover, that goddess was famous for a joke. As for that mortal, they would rather die than acknowledge that lunatic fool as a threat. "Lady Scathach," Magnolia contemplated running but remained glued to the ground due by her duty. "Why?" Scathach furiously raised her eyebrows. "Did Lucian taught you to scramble for a god every time a world enemy appears?" Scathach waved her spear at the elves. "Where is your pride? Did you hide it away along with your scout that should be here two hours ago?! For heaven's sake, this is your home! Where are you when the World Enemy was detected? Don't tell me your daddy was playing politic to milk this as an accomplishment! Even your half-traumatize sister would be here with me in the front line an hour ago." Scathach ranted furiously, shrinking the proud elves under her barrage.  Seeing that, Artos Jafar knelt in front of her. "Lady Scathach, I understand your anger, but mobilizing the elves took time. Lord Drakokia must-" Another flying spear nicked Jafar's face. "I hate it when people bow and scrap for my help," Scatach glared at him, disgusted. "If you want it, then show some spine and prove you are worth it! Prove to me you have the gut and character to be called my comrade. Instead of bowing down for help, put some effort into saving yourself. Did the elven's race gut and pride left with Luxinna when your kind banish her?" "You met Luxinna," Magnolia's eyes widened in surprise as she started looking around in fear. "Is she--" "She isn't here," Scathach dismissed the girl coldly. "Don't worry. I won't tell her about your failures. The girl deserved better than that. Today has already been rough enough for her." Magnolia shifted uncomfortably. Her eyes moved side-to-side, trying their hardest not to betray her confusion. Finally, she mustered a reply together with a humble curtsey. "Lady Scathach, I can talk to father about lowering Luxinna's sentence after we deal with World Enemy. But please join forces with our houses, taking on such a monster alone will be hard even for you. The Drakokia will forever be your allies-" Another spear impaled the ground in front of Magnolia, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Stupid girl," Scathach gave Magnolia a murderous glare. "The World Enemy had already been taken out." The elves went silent. Artos Sevar's mouth hung low to swallow an apple whole. Beside him, Magnolia's jewelry draped body froze stiff as her mind went blank. The wind flowed past the army with total neglect, rustling the glass and tree leaves melodically. One word went through all of their heads. WHAT? Magnolia and Jafar/Sevar looked at each other and back at the badger. Taking on a World Enemy alone was a feat that qualified anyone for a high-level office anywhere. World Enemy, in general, possessed different weaknesses and strengths. People who fought them needed extensive preparation to come out alive. So far, the only one that could do that was an S-Rank master like Scathach. While the elves could still accept the woman in front of them could take out the World Enemy by her lonesome, there was a problem. She was fighting a hydra a few minutes ago. Unless she could clone herself, the notion of Scathach taking out the world enemy was impossible.  "Lady Scathach," Jafar shakily trembled. "Did you--" "I wish," Scathach interrupted the sentence, "Go back to your bosses and told him to screw his politic." Scathach jumped down from the Hydra's head and looked back at the platoon. "Leave," she said. "Don't follow me unless you want to die. With that, Scathach ran into the forest, leaving hundreds of elves in confusion. "There is something you never meant to know." ... Cytortia looked at the floating goddess, stunned. It was warm. Rem's description couldn't do this goddess justice. Cytortia knew what raw power felt like, but this lady was more than that. She was optimism incarnated. Her very presence dug the happiest memories from the forgotten well with the intensity that sent her down to her knees. The smile of people she helped, the apple-pies baking class, even her memory with the rabbit, everything good about life was coming back. Cytortia's eyes watered. No wonder Rem was willing to march to his doom on her request. She finally understands it now. In a certain sense, the light of hope is more addictive than the allure of sin. "Hello, Cytortia," Satholia drifted down. "We don't have long, but I am glad we finally meet." Cytortia wiped her eyes. "Why me?" She pleaded. "I am cowardly, a naive weakling. A failure who shouldn't even be born. Why do you choose me? Why don't you choose someone like that prince from Balperia or the General of the Eastern front? Why?!" She started shouting. "Lady Satholia, please reconsider this!?" the goddess begged. "I could never live up to this responsibility. I will never be worthy of this duty. Please take it back for everyone's sake!" Cytortia mustered everything in her heart to vent her frustration. She got so drained her vigor died at the end of the sentence.  Satholia shook her head. "I know how many times you failed," she smiled gently. "Power is never your quality, Cytortia, but no one is more worthy. Despite being oppressed all your life, you never dreamed of crushing others. You can't bring yourself to hurt a fly, and everyone looks down on you for that. I disagreed; you are better than any other candidate. If anything, you prove that by admitting your fault and deny both glory and power." Satholia's body majestically shined, and a golden stone encrusted with sapphire assembled in the air. It gently floated toward Cytortia. "Anyone can grow strong," Satholia said. "But what you do with power defined your character. Look at you. I offer you the highest glory, a chance to be remembered as the most renowned leader in history. But you are willing to throw it away for a better candidate. That alone proves your worthiness."  Slowly, Cytortia accepted the stone. It felt warm. The Mana inside this mineral flowed swiftly like a celestial thunderstorm. Its surface was that of an uncut diamond. The scent of ozone flowed from the soft and delicate ore. "That golden ore is the root of the Paracyst. With my limited power, I manage to condense all the natural energies the Paracyst's hoard and mix it with my Mana. It is a gift to Luxinna from this forest and me. With it, she will wield the greatest blade ever created in Phantasia." In the distance, the grass trickled the young elf's face as she slept contently. Satholia smiled as she looked back at those peaceful images as she started to fade. "The forest loves her, you know. Especially this spring," Satholia glanced at the hopeful sky. "I will be waiting for you at the Land of the Mist, Cytortia. Sorry, but I have to go now." With it, Satholia faded to nothingness, leaving behind a confused goddess and a golden ore. And that was how Scathach found them.

Chuang’s hand punched through the molten rocks as she lifted herself from the glowing pool of magma. Her heat-proof clothing was thankfully intact, but its darkened edge glowed like the pan of rage. Those fires were dragon-grade. Chuang could tank some heat being a fire-goddess, but even someone like her got limits. She dipped her hand into the molten rock and casted her anger to the earth. The ground swelled, alarming the two knights of Dawn. [Inferno School: Hell Field] The earth turned into a blazing hell-pit. Melody remained unharmed from the blaze because of her draconic durability. Luxinna wasn’t as lucky, being forced up the sky to avoid becoming a roasted elf. Chuang clenched her fist. Her storage ring flickered in the light. … Several hundred meters from the battle, Rem woke up from his [Clairvoyance]. The transient vision of the future finally handed him the signal. “Hikma, space break,” Rem whispered at his radio. He hoped Hikma pulled their counter-play before the fight turned ugly. … Hikma De Darwin tracked the trail of devastation in the shadow. He stalked the battlefield, unseen and unheard under stealth Arcane and Scathach’s training. Three minutes in and Hikma dispelled the thought to interfere. The mind carrying the key to triumph must not remove itself. Hikma’s limit was three Arcanes, catalyzed by three [Conceptual Seal] — miserable limitation for the man who learned thirty at the minimum. Thankfully, he made it worked. [Shadow] concealed him from the attention of the furious Heavenly Daughter. [Chill] lent him the cold [Arctic Aura], protecting him from the inferno Melody and Chuang threw like confetti. It took Hikma knee-buckling effort to shore the two Arcanes under the onslaughts, but enough healing-potion to substitute as his dinner solved that problem nicely. Finally, Rem’s signals arrived. Hikma’s third seal glowed. It was their ace — the Arcane defining the success or failure of this mission. Chuang’s arrogance stopped them from using this secret weapon from the get-go. Now that they cornered the beast enough for its claws to unsheathe. The time to break the Heavenly Daughter of Fire arrived at last. The [Conceptual Seal] of [Space] shined in Hikma’s palm as he stepped from the shade and into the heated hell. Hand waved in the air as he poured his focus, unleashing the Arcane at the very second Chuang’s ring shined. “[Space Jamming]” ... The storage rings on Chuang’s finger glowed as she attempted to access her warehouses of arsenals. The Space Stone inside shone with innate energy, releasing pocket space filled with Chuang’s weapon, supplies, tools, and puppets. It was a ring accumulating a vast amount of her wealth and half her battle power. The prizes inside worth enough to fund Lightwell for a year. However, Chuang most prized treasure was without a doubt her puppets. A quality piece she crafted herself. The mechanical beast made from corpse of magical creature, equipped with weapons of the gods, painstakingly selected from the best specimen. Chuang Tianshang hunted more than half of them with all her effort. She climbed the mountains to fight the griffin and made a flying behemoth from its corpse. She spent three days trudging through the forest for an elusive holy beast to create a healing-base puppet. She even dove into the ocean to capture a giant calm as a base for the strongest defensive servant available. Each Heavenly Daughter specialized in multiple classical arts praised by Nu Wa. Kar’Dia boasted talent in blacksmithing, sculpting and weaving. LinLey excelled as an expert artist, calligrapher and formation maker. Cytortia ranked as the youngest S-rank in history of Alchemy, medicine and an expert cook. Tai Hua—much to her eternal embarrassment—was the unrivaled mastered in all form of dances, ceremonies and music. Nu Wa bombed as a mentor — that was a fact. However, some of her training tested positive. Cytortia eventually transcend all Alchemist before her. No soul in Phantasia dared to siege the matured LinLey’s fortification. Tai Hua ultimately coached the most famous pop-idol in Phantasia and even toured a dual concert on multiple occasion once she learned how to smile at the camera. Brashness aside, Chuang also held equal attainment to her surrogate sisters. She was an expert puppet-maker, poet and zoologist. She combined her knowledge in animal’s physiology and puppet mechanism to create multiple war pieces which elevated her above mages such as Kar’Dia Tianshang and Shyme Enma. The moment Chuang took out her puppet, Horizon Dawn would face hell. The only thing stopping this worst-case scenario from happening earlier was the Heavenly Daughter of Fire’s arrogance. But Rem didn’t care — arrogant or humble — Chuang got on the naughty list. Remus Breaker didn’t treat his problem humanely. He assumed opponent as smart as himself, so plan that took them down was the plan he knew he couldn’t survive either. Chuang’s greatest mistake was not taking out the puppet before entering the forest. However, Rem would argue the true blunder laid on fighting under the enemies’ term, proving that she learned nothing from his lecture a week ago. Hikma’s Arcane was perfect. The Space Stone jammed mid-activation and exploded, destroying the pocket space. Every single property Chuang kept in that ring—puppets, weapons, life-saving consumables—did not survive the space crashing that tore them to scraps. Chaung’s ring flickered and popped like an overloading light-bulb. The Heavenly Daughter of Fire took three seconds to register what happen. “What?” Chuang shook her storage ring as panic built. “Come on. Turn on. Please Don’t go out like this.” Once Chuang registered the painful truth that she lost everything in her ring. She experienced a vision. The specail moment with every treasure she earned. Every puppet she struggled night-by-night to create. Every thing came flooding back to her at the realization that all of it vanished. Tears trickled down Chuang’s cheek and her heart shattered. “GO TO HELL!” Chuang howled. Her eyes blazes with fury and tears. “I HATE ALL OF YOU!” The temperature shattered the metaphorical roof as Chuang splashed her Mana. All traced of restraint evaporated completely from the destruction of her treasured possession. “[Inferno School: Rising Blade],” Chuang unleashed a row of fire spears and harpoons from the ground, but she didn’t stop there. “[Heaven Fire: Incinerating cloud]” Magical circle lighted up, dropping a plume of fire on the earth below. “[Burning War: Ignition Slice]” Chuang flung her arm, unleashing the fire blades that bisected half the forest. But the Horizon Dawn was ready for everything she did. Hikma put his hand on the ground and released an Arcane that instantly froze the ground, shattering the construct. Melody unleashed a dragon breath, extinguishing the fire by using fire to drain the oxygen. Luxinna deflected the blade of flames with [Serene Glass] amped [Historia]. Chuang’s onslaught might overwhelm each of them, but together they were more than a match to the weaponless 33 Stars. “[Burning War: Mountain Piercing]” Hikma raised his hand, remembering what Rem told him. … “Hey, Hikma, do you want to know what is the most annoying spell in all of Magic,” Rem said one afternoon. “I think you are also new to Phantasia.” “Eh, that doesn’t mean I am new to Magic: the Gathering,” Rem said. “Listen to me buddy, the most toxic deck in Magic is blue-control.” “Why?” Rem made a face. “Counter spell.” … Arcane was the power to replicate the memory of the world and imposed the phenomenon into reality. However, the same method could be reversed to return the phenomenon back to the memory of the World. Reverse Arcane changed spell and unnatural phenomenon into a bad dream. However, Reverse Arcane was a much more demanding technique compared to vanilla Arcane. It was much easier to make ice-cream than returned the treat back into milk, vanilla and flavoring. The craft demanded intense attention to detail, control and deep understanding of the phenomenon. Among all of Horizon Dawn, only Hikma boasted the talent for the craft. [Deep Meditation] and his natural affinity with Astral Tracing allowed him to read the target’s component given enough time. [Memoria Revision] function an advance eidetic memory, allowing him to recall the sight, scent, sound, touch and taste of any phenomenon he experienced. His high WIS lend him the precision he needed. Above all else was the True Magic [Conceptual Seal]. Its uselessness in combat seemed to act as an internal balance to omnipotency as a universal catalyst for all Arcane and Reverse. Hikma was the only mage in the world who could create and erase any Miracle except for other True Magic. Despite having the lowest power-level in Horizon, his versatility made the most viable pick in any composition. Any team with him in it would guarantee absolute magical superiority. He was the Chronicler of Magic who, able to wield every miracle in his memory. “[Reverse]” Hikma stretched his hand, throwing a [Conceptual Seal] of [Fire] at [Mountain Piercing]. “What?!” Chuang’s eyes bulged, sinking to the same expression every Magic: the Gathering player had when they first receive the bitterness of counter spell.  Seizing that opportunity. Melody and Luxinna threw a canister that exploded in a familiar purple fume. Chuang raised her eye-brows. She won’t fall for the same trick twice. But the fume was just a distraction for Hikma to get closed enough. “[Enchant Break],” two seal — [Fire] and [Magic] — lighted up in Hikma’s palm. Chuang felt her fire-base defense cracked as the boy closed in. She attempted to throw a punch, but without her [Immolation Robe], the table tilted for Luxinna and Melody. Chuang bit her lip. She needed to pull spell. “[Reverse],” Hikma took down her [Heaven Fire: Vermillion] before it even formed. In a three-against-one fight — with her tool and skill set compromised — Chuang had no choice but to use desperate measures . “[Martial Phoenix]” Flaming tattoo appeared over Chuang’s body. She disliked using this style. It was a hybrid technique used by her future self as a mix between cultivation technique and spell-casting. The technique channeled a specially cultivated energy into a pathway constructed with spell-formula, enabling the used to combine powerful spells with the martial technique. Chuang only learned [Martial Phoenix] a few months back. Her proficiency with it was disastrous, but right now she didn’t have a choice. [Martial Phoenix: Fireball] Chuang’s fireball compacted punch collided with Luxinna’s fist. The raw magic power combined with her STR stats overwhelmed the elf’s boosted power and sent her flying back. Melody rushed to match her Draconian strength, but Chuang’s second [Fireball] punch sent her sliding away with her feet digging trenches across the earth . [Martial Phoenix: Fire spin] Chaung rushed after the two as a swirling mass of fire. Melody and Luxinna dodged aside and Chuang slammed the ground they were at, transforming it to a crater with a touch of swirling flames. Melody barely regain her breathing, when she detected the Mana coming from below. Shit! Melody thought. She was prioritizing me. Chuang rocketed from the ground in a mass of fire. [Martial Phoenix: Mountain Piercing] Melody evaded the spell-compacted stomped, but the explosion unleashed was another story. Explosive force knocked everything back. Chuang kicked destroyed the terrain, turning the area withing 500-meter radius into a blast-zone. The tree disappeared in a flashed of heat. Hikma and Luxinna received the shock-wave that sent them sprawling out of the fight. The light show died down the instant it happened. The blacken crater burned with ember. Chuang walked toward the crawling and gasping Melody. The demoness stood directly within the blast zone and fireproof didn’t necessary translated to explosion-immunity. Melody’s internal organ was in shamble and she knew several of her bones got dislocated from the blast. The demoness let out a pained grasp, thanking all things sacred that her mother wasn’t here to give her a scolding. “Look at you,” Chuang kicked the injured Melody in the gut, slamming her against the crater’s wall. “Do you feel it? The pain of defeat. This is what it like to get beat down by the opponent you have no chance of winning. Frustrating, isn’t it?” “Hah,” Melody coughed another mouthful of blood. “I don’t know you are such a moaner.” A canister suddenly landed near Chuang and burst into a cloud of purple smoke. Chuang easily evaded the clumsy attack and saw her junior sister sliding down the crater and running to heal Melody at full-speed. “[Fire shot]” The bullet of flamed punched through Cytortia's knee-cap. Chuang walked over toward Cytortia, who was clutching her bleeding leg in tears. “Useless as always. All these powerful comrades and you still fail. Do you know how much this spat cost me? Don’t you think this will end with just beating. No matter how much you beg, I will make you wish I will only kill you.” Cytortia glared at Chuang with her eyes in tears and her voice trembling. “Do your worse.” Chuang gritted her teeth. She only kept herself under control by imagining this idiot begging again. Bang! A bullet mangled her in the leg.  It was not a small-round either, but an armor-piercing one. Then another round shattered her forearm. The third round punched through her back. The fire-goddess dropped to the ground, yelping like an injured cat as she bled like any normal human.  Chuang couldn’t comprehend her sudden injury. How was this possible? Even without her defensive spell, a tiny pea-shooter from a backward planet like Earth shouldn’t hurt her. Any A-Rank should be able to handle a high-caliber bullet like a popcorn. Confusion rose in Chuang's mind, but reality quickly broke through. Melody was an expert blacksmith who easily surpassed Kar’Dia. With Cytortia’s help, she could design a gun and ammunition that hurt even someone in the B-rank. It would be even easier if the shooter somehow implement a magical trick with the bullet. However, the biggest caused of Chuang’s defeat belong to inherent brashness and desperation that led to her abusing an unmastered [Martial Pheonix].  Every technique had a price. And when the technique directly toyed with the organ, the price would be costly. [Fireball] and [Fire spin] wasn’t a powerful spell. Her body handled the [Martial Phoenix] version of those attacks just fine. But [Mountain Piercing] was an immense spell that  resulted in a backlash to her body. The immense Mana consumption and homeostasis malfunctioning eventually weakened her defense enough for a sniper round to hit before she could react. Sadly for her — other than underestimating a Mana-less place like Earth and recklessness — one more reason added to the sunset of 3rd of the 33 Stars.  Melody stumbled to the ground. Her head felt like about to cracked opened. The grains and dust she saw spun and danced in her eyes like a hoard of demons partying in the purgatory. She tasted the bile coming up her throat and retched. Melody laughed. “Finally.” “What did you do to me?” A footstep landed behind her. “Melody didn’t tell you everything about the spray we used on you,” Luxinna answered, heaving the unconscious Hikma on her shoulder. “There are a third substance in the cocktail: a reworked version of a poison called [Black Despair] acting as a nerve toxin. We aim to weaken your goddess’s natural immunity to poison by forcing you to spend an enormous amount of Mana, exhausting you as much as possible for the poison to hit a full momentum.” Chuang glared at the elf and recalled a familiar monster from her memory. It was a herald of the Paracis Corrupter which destroyed Lightwell. It costed the life of two 33 Stars to finally killed that monster. Tai Hua needed to lead the battle herself. It was a bitter victory that won them nothing. The corruption was so powerful it rendered Lightwell forest inhospitable. The elf’s species barely survived, and no matter how much they got questioned, they refused to name the corrupted, lightning-wielding elf leading the World Enemy’s invasion. How did she miss the elf’s identity beforehand? “The monster of Lightwell.” Luxinna flinched. Chuang tried to get up, but she the combination of numbness, migraine and blood lost toppled her face into the ash. “Don’t try,” Cytortia warned. “we coated the bullet with [Black Despair]. You don’t have a chance.” “You don’t know-“ “I don’t,” Cytortia looked at the hill in the distance. “But I trust his Advance [Clairvoyance].” Chaung froze. Advance [Clairvoyance] It was a highly coveted version of [Clairvoyance] that look into the future. Anyone with such a skill was a strategic resource any military would kill to have. Even the Grand Empire didn’t hire such person. The skill alone was rare enough, but accounting for the user's ability to foresee threat, forcing those users into service was almost impossible. No one who achieved that skill was stupid enough to get recruited alive. They knew too much about their employer's method. Chuang gritted her teeth as her consciousness faded All of this time, she was struggling against the arm of the future. It was not funny. … A 750 meters from the battlefield, Rem put down his Melody’s certified sniper rifle. Mission accomplish. 

El Acerbia was no longer the same boy who asked me to check his coursework. Obsession and frustration with the gods’ many mismanagements in Phantasia is changing him.   I can no longer stay on the Isle of Knowledge. What was once the gathering of idealistic young minds was being corrupted into a coven of war profiteers, ideological bigots and technology hoarders. Even my proudest student, Christy, began letting bitterness get to her. How long will it last? The Divine Fists and their divine masters possess a tyrannical numbers and powers because of the Mandatory Recruitment Order, but remain willfully blind to their folly. My brothers; murdered by their foolishness. My mentor; ridiculed by their ignorance. I nursed my dying parent in my decimated hometown, listening to the cries of despair. Those bloated fools and their minions will be the end of us. I can foresee the future as plain as day; blindly fighting a stupid over a pointless title, bleeding each other and trampling countless lives below them.  Foolishness. Do they believe keeping the mass an ant make them a giant? People weren’t insects. All of them have a choice. Who would be foolish enough to be brutalized under their boot? How can I blame anyone for finding a path away from the grinder? The downtrodden will make a choice. They won’t care who offers them salvation or power for vengeance. A World Enemy. A power-hungry avenger who desired to burn civilization. One little push and Phantasia would sink to depravity like a domino. The people need a symbol. Something worth believing to stop them from slipping into evil. That was why I sank into obscurity and moved Aquamarine — my underwater research facility — far from the gazing eyes of Acerbia and those fools on their paper throne. The world needs a protector they could believe in. For this reason, I will create my magnum opus — man-made Intelligence — an eternal guardian to protect this flawed and beautiful world. … Mamacia Cocogarh had blitzed past the entire mustering zone and found a hiding place; one of many abandoned cupboards that contained several dusty tools. The mustering area was originally meant to be a testing room for invention with many consoles and storages cupboard for easy access to the tools. A quick shoddy remodeling remade the area into a flat testing-site, but still left several traces of its former function behind. Mamacia scanned the entire file on her globe and gulped. If it were ever released, Alcra’s research would be deemed heretical by the gods. He was researching on how natural phenomenon like flames and rocks gained sentience. Many religious and divine organizations considered the subject of Mana and formation of spirit sacred. Even the Isle of Knowledge didn’t dare dip their hand into it. According to Alcra’s theory, all-object that absorbed Mana had a certain vibration-signature. Almost imperceptible molecular vibration that strenghtened with time they spent accumulating Mana. In the end, this signature became similar to cerebrum activity and object attained self-recognition. Alcra had concluded, after many observations of spirits and some forbidden texts on Necromancy, that he discovered the real anatomy of soul and the method to create an artificial one. Mamacia nearly dropped the crystal-globe. She knew the gods will smite anyone with these knowledges, but she couldn’t stop reading. Alcra didn’t create a golem of thought or an artificial Spirit like Orwell Mehest. He created a mother-fucking life that could think and believe on its own. Mana entities that could learn, love, adapt and have opinion. But Alcra Shaxter needed more than soul. He needed an organized, adaptable guardian who could protect Phantasia forever. So, he began testing for material. He forewent all elemental bodies and focused on minerals. Then he went further. This was the part Mamacia gulped. Alcra wrote that proper arrangement in material might influence how the artificial consciousness developed. After a year of trail and error, he discovered a proper arrangement of quartz and specific material to create high intelligence after a long trail of manufacturing consciousnesses ranging from braindead to poodle. That was the baby-steps before running into a rock. Not every material was equal. Alcra tested many things. He even discovered that quartz joined with a mineral component available in the market can be built to house and amplify soul, but he claimed those discoveries were still far inferior to his two greatest masterpieces concluded as a superior intellect of his dream. They were born from material Shaxter’s categorized as Cybertium coated in certain quartz-Mana blueprint. Cybertium isn’t an ore but a material that could generate complexes Mana-signature. One was a rare type of natural gem — only three of which were discovered in Phantasia. And the other is… “A certain ancient gall-stone dated back to the era of the Ancient,” Mamacia spoke. Alcra said both treasures had almost identical composition, but he couldn’t explain the natural gem required a brainwaves’ blueprint to catalyze the consciousness development — a flaw easily fix. Meanwhile, the gall-stone readily developed a new consciousness much earlier. He believed it got something to do with its an organic origin. Alcra Shaxter gave Z-1, the gall-stone’s consciousness, the guardian he created for Phantasia, the honor of owning the project name. PALISADE … Artos Sevar swung his sword with a speed of river rapids. Two quick slashes followed a by a rapid cut and a stab. The vampire whistled, dodging each move and stomp his foot, creating a rippling pulse of red blackness, repelling the elf backward. The vampire grinned and throw a punch at the coming wave of Holy light. He smirked at the opponent assembled to battle him. 33 Stars, the leader of the next generations, all lining up to be defeated as an evidence of his superiority. “Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” The vampire laughed with glee and magically produced a sheath long sword from his coat. “Truly, this is a worthy occasion for me to draw my blades. Very well, be honored, pawns of the gods, because I — Edward Balorian — will give you the privilege of my time. You will now witness the strength of the fifth-in-line to Blood Queen Mariette Balorian.” Aryssa Holyworth growled. “That whore fifth son, huh. The son of the converted George H. Wells.” “Oh, you know my sire. My mother said he was quite a stallion. A former Captain of the Balperia is quite a catch. My mother attend him herself.” “Yes, the Inquisitor executed him. You will pay or what you did to Captain Wells.” “Funny, isn’t it church who murder him? We lost quite a valuable property.” “Captain Wells was already dead when he got captured by you deprave rapist. We simply free him from suffering as your slave!” Aryssa yelled at the smirking Edward. If the vampire felt any lost for his father, he didn’t show it. It was as if the murder of his father meant utterly nothing to him. In contrast, Aryssa was furious at the creature in front of her, pouring the blame of an entire misery into an existence that she believed compose entirely of sin. “You monster. If you weren’t born, Commander Wells would never have been executed!” Edward snorted and performed a quick draw that took a slice up half the room from robots to the struggling survivors. “Foolishness. My mother grant that stallion the privilege of joining our court. She acknowledges his strength and prowess. I am the living proof of that. And yet you insist, I murder him by just by exiting my mother's womb. Pathetic. Your church executes your own without a single hearing, and claims we are the monster! Your hypocrisy is astounding!” Aryssa lifted her staff and fire five holy balls of light, which were sliced in half by Edward’s swordplay. Amitate and Emily showered the vampire with a tower of fire and ice. Sevar exploited that opening, rushing back into the fight by surrounding the bloody creature with countless blades of raining light. Peppered by all sides, Edward got caught completely open by an sniping attack by Magnolia. An almighty blast of freezing storm carried the vampire off into another chain of a giant bull of lightning launched by Sorin Enma. Frozen and Electrocuted, battered by many injuries, Edward looked up to see Sun Senwei dove — surrounded by the dragon of torrential winds. The dragon bit into a vampire, while Sun Senwei unleashed rapid fist of martial art beating. Edward grimaced as his brutalized body ate punches and palm-strikes. The vampire’s skin bled, muscles ruptured. He felt several bones shattering, caving in under the barrages of blows. At some point, his sword dropped. Sun Senwei kicked the vampire into the metal ceiling with a force to leave behind a crater. Edward felt his entire head ringing until a staff coated in holy light — courtesy of Aryssa Holyworth — impaled his chest and crunched into the metal behind him. “Hah, so this is a vampire noble,” Sorin Enma chuckled. “Seriously, how come you folks cannot eliminate something that…” “Heh, heh, heh, heh,” the creepy laughter echoed from the ceiling. “Wow, you 33 Stars are quite something. I must admit my eyes are officially open. I can’t believe mere teenagers unleashed the attack that actually hurt. My god, this is good.” The holy light on Aryssa’s staff flickered and faded. “Impossible!” Aryssa Holyworth yelled. “That is [Blood-Suppression Spell]! No vampire should be able to undo that seal under a direct hit.” Edward leaned from the ceiling, sliding his chest, length-wise, up the staff, leaving behind a trail of acrid red on the blood-strain shaft. Edward stood, hanging upside down from the roof by the power of his malicious blood, and smiled. His body was battered by bruises, frostbites and burns, but the killing-intent remained overwhelming like a tumultuous toxic cloud. He produced a blank talisman and waved it inside the group, while his wounds started disappearing as the vampiric regeneration went over time to fix his injury. “Yes, no vampire could undo that seal, but we aren’t in the world with only vampire, aren’t we? Oh, you blind fool, pets of Divine Fist and angels, do you believe you can execute every single soul touched by our fang incurring no ill-feelings? Wake up, hypocrite! The world is fucking tired of your hypocrisy! Those unsealing talisman bought — lawfully by-the-way — under a thousand credit is a solid proof even those you claim to defend want you gone!” Edward slammed his foot, unleashing the torrent of blood on top of the 33 Stars. … Artos Sevar was multi-tasking. He confronted that natural predator, braying for blood with one hand while guiding his spirit, Hermione and Penelope, to defend the crowd. It was a tough job. The survivors managed to form a front to defend against the drones. However, as ancient often insisted, when it rained, it poured. Newly arrived drones quickly deposited a canister that started spewing out dangerous looking gas, and Edward Balorian stopped taking his time. The first to go down was Sorin. Edward was fast; appearing in mist of blood and sucker punched Enma in the face. The divine-blood beastman refused to go down. He swiped with a claw of thunder, but even his divinity and vigorous body could not keep up against the noble vampires. Sorin got tagged with three painful fists in the exchange. Sorin ignored the bloody mark on his body and opened his mouth, gathering tremendous lightning Qi. But in vampire-certified speed, Edward snapped Sorin’s mouth shut with an uppercut. Press to desperation within mere seconds, Sorin prepared to activate [Divine Beast Raiment]. “Explode,” Edward commanded. Throughout Sorin’s body, spots marked by Edward’s punch detonated with kinetic force simultaneously—riddling Sorin with internal damage. Enma’s clan [Divine Beast Raiment] might flip the table on any fight, but it also put a strain on the body. A body with massive internal bleeding — such as the pulverized Sorin — wouldn’t be able to activate it at all. Edward brushed himself as he turned to face the remaining six people capable of putting on a fight. With Mamacia gone, Salazar disappeared and Sorin Down; only two Aztellic, two elves, one priestess and one martial artist remained to take on the vampire. “Did he just take out the physically strongest of us in seconds?” Amitate asked his sister. “Don’t get close! Watch his movement!” Emily commanded. Aryssa — as the most vampire savvy of the group — realized where the Aztellic twin were standing; namely next to blood-color sword  “Look out!” Edward clicked his fingers, commanding his disarmed long sword to rise and slash both brother and sister pair in the back, before flying into his waiting hand. “Shitty-“ “Explode.” Emily and Amitate felt it. A force akin to a truck blew inside the cut, turning the originally worrying but tolerable injury into a devious, bloody wound beyond what their Stats could cash. Both demons fell like a sack, groaning in pain. Only 4 remained “Interesting,” Sunwei spoke. His body surrounded with winds. “Care to test my marital art, lord Balorian.” Edward brandished his swords. “It will be an honor. Oh—” Balorian dodged Aryssa’s light beam. “Interrupting a duel isn’t quite honorable, but then I shouldn’t expect much from a member of the Holy Church,” Edward tossed a ball into the air. “Luckily, I am prepared against you.” The ball exploded, revealing a dragon diagram of five elements, burning with a grudge. The dragon dove toward Aryssa, penetrated through the dome of light the priestess summoned to defend her like vapor, and engulfed her in torturous light. Aryssa's screams hung on the air like an agonizing howl of animal being fray alive in a firepit. “Must be painful,” Edward said. “Remember the Yangfei family? Ally of the Deathless clan when your hypocritical, self-righteous morons helped drive them to extinction. I know you don’t, but they sure as hell remember you enough to spend years concocting an anti-Church measure and sold it to us with 30% discount.” Artos couldn’t believe how horrendous the situation has become. It shouldn’t be possible for one vampire to beat them this badly. Aryssa was an expert in fighting them for heaven-sake. Suddenly, Artos felt a gigantic bastard sword rested by his neck. “Magnolia, kill Sun Senwei or else Artos die,” Salazar Aztellic dropped out of a stealth technique with Artos right beneath his blade. Despite his size, the ogre was an incredibly sneaky fighter. One-third of his victories were won with a surprise attack from behind. Magnolia froze like a deer in a headlight. “Magnolia, don’t listen to him!” Artos yelled at his partner before turning attention back to the demon who got him a checkmate. “You realize you are helping the vampire, right?” “Yes, and I wouldn’t even butt-in if you are winning, which you are not,” Salazar nodded to Edward. “Hope you understand my position.” “No need,” Edward shrugged. “I understand your circumstances. I already tell you; strength is everything for us monsters. With our reputation, if we aren’t winning, we couldn’t blame our ally from side-lining.” Before the decision of a lifetime, Magnolia froze stiffed. For a girl whose resolve was built on the teaching and approval of Lucian Drakokia, she never felt gravity of life or duty. For Magnolia, world events were all game to please dear old dad. Suddenly, with lives she cared about pending to her decision, she was completely paralyzed with fear.  “Trai..to..r!” Aryssa howled from being burnt alive. “Here-“ A palm of wind blasted down on the priestess. “No need to force my surrender, Salazar,” Sun Senwei looked bore instead of panicking. “You aren’t the only one who is waiting to toss our ‘allies.’” This turn of event rippled amongst the crow. “Why?” It was the Magnolia who reached out to Sun. The girl was on the verge of a breakdown. “That masked woman is right,” Sun Senwei mused. “You all research nothing behind the image present in front of your ignorant little eyes. Do you know why and what pushes me this far? Simple. I hate all of you. True, vampires are mother-fucking plague, but at least they aren’t an active self-righteous ass.” “Here-“ Another wind blast landed on Aryssa. “Funny. For me, the heresy is how your inspectors crippled my sworn brother and punished my village for being the victim. Elves. Church. Vampire. Demons. The only things that change is the name. I stop caring about the indistinguishable asshole in charge a long time ago.” Edward doubled over laughing, but that was when a sword protruded from his chest. Joshua and a woman in a wolf-hoard leather gear appeared out of an illusion. “Got you,” said the fool-hardy second-in-command. “Your stupid blood-suckers always left your back open, while laughing.”

[Edge of ADA] discharged a gust so powerful it blasted dust cloud over the city. For the resistance holding the wall, what awaited as the dust fade was the curtain call. The second lighting of Horizon Dawn’s emblem was more than a decoration. It was a supercharge of morale. With Trimegal’s body destroyed and the Spiritium crystal vaporized, Orwell Mehest's hold on Venistalis’s vast Mana finally got dashed to the rock. Amalgam laying siege at the wall shut down one by one. Few versions with built in Mana storage held on, but alas the defender finally outnumbered the undead. With morale higher than cloud nine, the resistance led by Vice-Captain Kruger marched forth to end the fight. … Inside the Central Palace, Rem reached the place he targeted from the beginning. It was the Grand Empire’s restricted library. Behind that gate laid the secret library, hiding everything the Empire declared forbidden. Vast number of lost knowledges and dangerous artifacts rested behind its door, sealed from the public’s perception. Rem stretched his recently healed hand. Za Wa nested on his shoulder as a witness to Horizon Dawn’s first liberation of knowledge. [Tenshou] The connection of the universe rattled. Countless seals and protections gripping the door for a millennium shutdown and unraveled under the command of the Primal Arcane. Rem undid the binding thread-by-thread, untying each seal and disabling the gate's ridiculous number of barriers. In a minute, the gate to the library telekinetically crawl open. Knowledge was the greatest treasures of humanity. Forget monetary resources, the classified informations of the Empire was a delicious material. … Princess Velnia’s gang plus Shyme Enma got knocked from their feet by [Edge of ADA]’s windstorm. As they struggle to stand, the Spiritium tower fell before their heads. “What?!” Albert Starlight yelled in face of a mountain of obsidian rock crashing into his face. [Air Palace: Gale Wall] The nearly emptied Shyme shielded the group with her barricade of air. Dust and rocks slid around the barrier with loud noises. “What happens?” Mercia asked nobody. “How is that tower falling?” The answer arrived with Orwell Mehest crash-landing beside them. His spectral armor was intact, but his face painted an image of crumbling confidence. Orwell conjured a gigantic sword of purple energy and flung it at the dust cloud. A clang rose as something knocked the gigantic sword flying. Then he stepped to grace their vision. A throneless knight clad in black overall and trench-coat. The helmet shielding his identity glimmered under the heated battle. Its visor flickered with amber light. Fearless, the knight of Satholia strode to his opponent, speaking in a menacing voice enhanced with the modulator. “And there goes your last lifeline. Anymore trick, Orwell?” “Heh, we are outside your summer land.” [Tundra Ice Create: Glacial] Orwell’s pale blue energy surged, summoning an ice-coffin, and entombing the Chronicler inside the frozen grave the size of the house. [Jotun] Hikma’s [Conceptual Construct] responded, encasing Hikma inside his own ice before Orwell’s attack crushed him. Crash! The freezing coffin slammed Hikma shut. However, [Jotun] expanded, bursting the coffin and growing into a massive golem. Hikma had plenty of time to upgrade his conceptual construct with Primal Arcane. The current [Jotun] was a handiwork of [Cryo Lorde] and [Cryo Genesis]. Sadly, Hikma didn’t master [Cryo Gift] as the final touch. The golem was no longer a meat-shield but a robotic enabler of cold manipulation. [Cryo Lorde] Ice-covered the battlefield, stretching from the golem and creeping up Orwell’s Adamakles. Mehest’s Tundra abilities activated in response, struggling in an icy battle with Orwell. [Blizzard] [Entropy] In that freezing match, Shyme witnessed the image of beauty. Orwell’s [Blizzard] failed to properly launched. Instead of an unforgiving hail, a gentle snow fell. Clear ice covered the ruin street and building, glittering like a crystalized lake. The air was chilling but celestial, like an image of winter. It was a moment of solace. An opening to a legendary duel she was lucky to witness. Throughout her childhood, Shyme Enma’s life centered on fire. The passion for her family — the flames promising of progress. The engine called Enma Clan must push on regardless of the cost. Their triumphs wrote history. Like social media addict, the young mistress of Enma grew with belief in the flames of the ceaseless leap to the future, brushing aside any chance of self-reflection or risk assessment. Now that her immense injury forced her to stop, she found herself in the fairyland foreign in her life. There were no rabid crashing weapons nor spells, but two men assessing the others with patience. Both held to solemn and calm, preserving their strength and building their tactic in the peaceful falling snow. A celestial silence for both sides to reflect on their decision. Reflection… it was something alien to Shyme Enma until that icy day. “What a power,” Velnia gaped with fright. “It is beautiful,” Shyme whispered as Velnia gave her a look reserve for an asylum patient. The two men’s gaze finally sharpened, and they moved. [Pyro Gift] Hikma cast a fiery protection, shielding himself from Orwell’s cold aura. Orwell charged; his Adamakles blazing for a strike. Hikma slipped past the vertical slash obliterating the ground, then intercepted a double stab with [Trinity] and slight cane flick. The trough in temperature transformed water into mist as the Adamakles’ forth limb swept its blade at Hikma’s ankle. Sadly, Orwell’s bulky armor was too unsubtle to feint against a person who trained against masters of misdirection and speed blitz. Hikma evaded Orwell’s final blow in a clean flip. The 2nd Ray might not boast many agile moves, but session with Luxinna taught him in spades. Flipping into Orwell’s blind-spot in a crouch, the Chronicler’s waited for Mehest’s back swiped to fly overheard before counter-attacking.  [Interfere] The Arcane rupture enough opening in Orwell Mehest’s vibrating defense for Hikma to follow with his true probing strike. [Entropy] Mehest watched Hikma palmed his armor. Forces of degradation eroded his spectral defenses at an alarming rate. This attack confirmed Orwell’s suspicion. His opponent wasn’t simply a wall. Chronicler is a tactical fighter under a guise of a wall. The type with patience to probe his opponent for a certain method to assure victory no matter how long it took. Orwell supercharged his vibration armor to take out Hikma’s hand, but the Chronicler already expected that reaction. [Holy Gift] Light busted from Hikma’s palm, launching both fighters back by five meters each. Snow and ice dispersed from the blast. Both men wiped a line of broken ice as they blasted across the ground before coming to the stop without breaking eye contact. However, a sight shocked the spectator. The first sign of vulnerability appeared on Orwell’s Adamakles; a crack. There were no deflecting Hikma’s accomplishment. The boy, once beaten by a squad of thugs, now squared mano-to-mano against an elite who punted a demigod and drew first blood. No teammate. No outside help. The nobody orphan surpassed every royal force in Venistalis within months and now earned the qualification to threaten a 33 Stars only rivaled by Tai Hua Tianshang. “Ridiculous,” Mercia watched enigmatic masked man accomplishing what she never dared. “Did he just damage that armor?” “That impossible,” Shyme recalled how her best effort and forbidden technique failed. “Just how…” Orwell quietly sealed that crack in his armor. He recalled every exchange of blows between him and this newest threat. “You battle-style is rooted on defense — on stalling,” Orwell stated. “I see. You aren’t just defending. You are analyzing me. Every clash of weapons brings you closer to a goal. Is it to break my armor? No. Exemplar individual of your caliber would crack that in no time.”  Orwell’s face lighted up. “Haaa, you are scouring for a method to seal my Adamakles. I see. That counter-attack is a test to see if your method worked.” “You are sharp,” Hikma readied his cane. Orwell clicked his finger.  [Shock Spector: Assault mode] The hulking avatar protecting him faded away. Instead, smaller purple spectral guards lined Orwell’s body as an exoskeleton. “What is he doing?” Albright asked. “Shedding away extra armor,” Shyme almost face-palmed at these clueless idiots. “Orwell knows that man can break his avatar, so he reduced his blind-spot by dropping his excess mass and settled this skill-over-force. Hikma responded by resizing his [Trinity] to suit a human-size opponent as Orwell resumed the match with a storming assault. [Orwell’s Original: Spectral Frost Armament] Two purple spectral javelin materialized into Orwell’s waiting hand. Each weapon radiated with frost energy. Orwell launched an upward strike, creating the wall of freezing mist barely stopped with [Trinity]. Not wasting any second, Mehest leapt over Hikma’s shield and threw his weapon. Again, [Trinity] blocked the attack, but Mehest strikes weren’t over. Using the physical enhancement from his Adamakles, Orwell shifted behind the rotating defence of [Trinity] and kick Chronicler with his superstrength. Hikma raised PACFIST MK1 and braced the impact with both hands. The blow was deafening. Undeterred, Hikma tried to grab Orwell's leg with his left hand. Mehest’s eyes widened, and he launched a shock-wave to blast both men back. The force of such close-quarter ripped Hikma’s sleeves, revealing what Mehest suspected. A palm-size triangular construct built from four pyramid sigils. “I see,” Orwell eyed the sigil warily. “That is your win-condition. I guess the battle is over, if that hand lands.” Hikma’s silence was an answer. … [Nicholas] Named after legendary alchemist Nicolas Flamel. It was Hikma’s ultimate EAPS. His greatest [Conceptual Construct]. The construct with ability to tailor an Arcane using [Conceptual Seals] and few primer, allowing Hikma to contest with [Arrival of Deam] and [Edge of ADA]. However, there were one problem. He hadn’t mastered it fully. He needed to set [Nicholas] on the target for it to operate. This meant he must palm Orwell with his left hand. “So, this is what the battle boils into,” Orwell’s spectral armor stretched to create a familiar wing. “Can I crack your defense before you hit me? Now, that I know your plan…” Orwell flapped his wings and took flight. “The most logical course of action is making this contest a range battle!” [Nimbus] Hikma flew after Orwell Mehest on his [Conceptual Construct] The ultimate stage of this invasion had begun. … The two men contested the sky. [Orwell’s Original: Spectral Frost Armament] Hikma watched Orwell’s attempt at spearing him with Olympic-worthy javelin throw. A spherical [Surtr] slammed into the spear in response. [Pyro Lorde] Flames exploded while the two resumed their chase. Hikma recalled his [Surtr] and cast another [Pyro Lorde]. Three columns of flames surged toward Mehest. Orwell conjured the spear and blew the flames away in seconds. However, Hikma seized this distraction to make an adjustment to his [Surtr] per Rem’s advice on the importance of foresight. “Hey, that is your weakness isn’t it,” Orwell blasted Hikma with another slash of freezing energy, forcing Hikma to dodge. “You only crush complex energy process but not direct shaping. Must be damned inefficient to nullify something that forms out of pure energies manipulation.” Orwell followed the attack with his improvise move. “[Shock Spector: Frost Blaster]” A massive Ice-beam barely missed Hikma’s back as it coated the entire street in Earth-quarter in ice. The battle left the confine of water-quarter as both combatants fought for supremacy. … The Adventurer guild’s receptionist barely comprehended the massive battle-transpiring. One moment the adventurers were keeping guard, the showered of icy attacks started raining on the building few beats later. Before the young woman could begin her prayers, a figure dressed in black and familiar symbol appeared and blocked the attacks. “Hide!” The figure yelled, pushing back the spectral hails with his magical circle. The guide watched the aerial duel between the winged-demon and the masked man. It was a duke-out beyond any promotion exam she administered. Massive watery serpent cut to pieces with an icy blade. Javelin carrying hair-raising vibration dug a new hole in the street. The receptionist watched what she believed to be two S-ranker spraying their craft in the skies. She couldn’t imagine the length Balperia resorted to recruit either of these monsters into the charter.. … Hikma’s big break arrived when he successfully lured Orwell into flying above a particular [Surtr] he hid away from sight. [Pyro Lorde] Flames engulfed Orwell’s Mehest. Hikma tensed. The next step would either break the tie or kill him. But Rem did mention you needed to take a bankruptcy risk to be a billionaire. Hikma dropped two of his [Trinity], created an [Aegis] and gambled his all into the [Conceptual Construct]. The [Aegis] turned into a weapon of blinding light. [Holy Gift] He charged at Orwell, betting the fires to act as pseudo smokescreen. Let cut the chase, Orwell met enough fire-as-distraction trick he should blow his brain out if he fell for it again. Slashes of ice enveloped Orwell before Hikma could reach him. Then a javelin flew from the bonfire, split into hundreds of pieces and rained frozen beam and spectral shards inside the circular area within 200 meters radius. [Shock Spector: Frost Blitz] Hikma threw the [Aegis] away and blocked the lethal rain with his remaining [Trinity]. However, Orwell extinguished the fire and took aim. He raised his hand and made crushing motion. Hikma’s eyes sharpened. Here it was. The gamble of destiny arrived. Shard of spectral blades paused mid-fall and redirected themselves at Hikma, sailing at him from all directions, rendering [Trinity]’s protection non-viable. Orwell smiled at the victory within his reach. Hikma deactivated [Nimbus] and created [Conceptual Seal] of [Force]. He hard-cast the first Arcane he ever learned. [Increase Gravity] Hikma sped up his fall, evading Mehest’s onslaught. Orwell noticed the Chronicler’s fingers flicking and realized the feint. Mehest reacted, cladding his hand with his Adamakles and reached out to catch the [Aegis] slicing from the sky like a saw blade of doom. The explosion was blinding. … Hikma slumped on the white, frozen snow ground. He dodged the instant death by accelerating his fall, but he failed to soften the blow properly. The Chronicler grimaced at his broken ankle. He gestured to cast a healing Arcane. But it is too late. “Not going to lie; your effort was epic,” Orwell floated down. His shirt and trouser torn from the explosion that obviously failed to defeat him. “But you aren’t strong enough.” Orwell slowly walked around [Trinity] and swung his spectral blade down on the disabled Hikma. The blade impaled Hikma’s torso, but instead of blood, flames erupted as the pyro clone exploded at Orwell. Orwell’s eyes widened in surprise. It was a trap. He beat his wings, but something invisible lashed to them. The area blurred. Orwell founded himself inside a massive 400 meters wide [Surtr]. A column of ice, courtesy of [Jotun], locked his wings in place. Orwell cursed, recalling who was the illusionist that hosted the meeting between Samadi and Wayward. Of course, the Chronicler could trick him with an illusion. Mehest broke free from the ice with his shock-wave. He needed to escape the attack range. The ground broke as Hikma burst upward, riding on his [Nimbus]. His left hand stretching at Orwell. “Dammit,” Orwell realized he fell for it. The Chronicler worked out from those clashes his defensive shock wave has a delay window. Mehest calmed himself within a split-second. The window only existed for a moment. Chronicler wouldn’t reach him in time. But Hikma got countermeasures for that. “[Nimbus]! Battery released!” The energy stored with [Nimbus]’s conceptual battery ignited, closing the gap between Orwell and Hikma at the price of destroying the [Conceptual Construct]. Despite that, Orwell refused to surrender. The win condition was on Hikma’s left hand. If he evaded that, he could counter and defeat the Chronicler at point blank. Orwell’s Stats-check rolled a pass. He twisted himself away from Hikma’s left, but in the heat of battle the aggressive fighter forgot two things. Hikma could be dropping the illusion on purpose. More importantly, he assumed [Nicolas] couldn’t relocate unlike every other Arcane. Yes, [Nicholas] must activate at pointblank, but Hikma could always shift the Arcane. Orwell witnessed the grand illusion shattered a second time. Hikma’s left was empty. Mehest registered the double-bluff via illusion too late. The mysterious magician outwitted him. Those sequences of attacks, mirages and sleight-of-hand lined to deliver a magic-trick that won Hikma and Horizon Dawn the war. Hikma’s right, armed with [Nicholas], punched into Orwell’s chest and activated.

The consequence of the Millian Incident was already felt mere days after its conclusion. It played out in the rivalry of the decade--the clash between the 33 stars of this generation. To many, the 33 stars represent the young generation of Phantasia super rookies who would take over the world stage in the future. Above all else, this battle was also a revenge match between two heated rivals who never saw eye-to-eye. Rank 1 of the 33 stars: Tai Hua Tianshang—The Heavenly Daughter of Steel. Rank 4 of the 33 stars: Chuang Tianshang—The Heavenly Daughter of Fire. In the Tengen Continent, on the creek of Palma, two armies prepared to crash. Coming from West, after solidifying her grip over 35% of Starland, was Tai Hua Tianshang and her Iron Army. Her force consisted of a 50,000 well-trained foot-soldiers in higher-tier C-rank, 5000 commanders of B-rank, and 6 A-rank generals led by Tai Hua herself. It was a number that could crush a small nation underfoot. Even Cytortia herself would be awestruck at how powerful Tai Hua had become in such a short time. Her power-level was 12,573--a double of Cytortia’s estimate. Facing this immense threat, Frisnia, the ally and neighbor of Starland, dispensed an emergency call for volunteers to drive back the plague of Tai Hua Tianshang. While not many freelancers were willing to fight a beast like Tai Hua, one person stepped forward to lead the coalition against the Iron Army. Chuang Tianshang soon arrived to lead an army of 50 B-rank puppets, a 345,000 C-rank foot-soldier, 50 B-rank commanders, 1000 X-cution unit at A-rank, and 4 A-rank generals. Shortly, the historian of the word would agree the battle of Palma Creek was without the doubt the prelude to the new age. The fallout of this battle would create the domino effect drowning the continent in chaos. The chaos that would reign until the dawn of hope emerged. … Tai Hua Tianshang investigated the map plotting the march of the army opposing her. She sneered. Frisnia must get desperate to allow Chuang to lead their coalition. Tai Hua only had to scan the report of mismatch colors and style of the uniform to know. The uneven gear and the chaotic marching orders confirmed what Tai Hua already suspected from the beginning. The foolish eunuch in Frisnia and their senile emperor didn’t see her as a threat until now. The Heavenly Daughter of Steel gnashed her teeth in disgust. Such ignoble arrogance was the reason the world order needed to be re-shaped. The nobles had fed for long enough on their thrones. Frisnia was a good example. Where were they went she was hacking apart Starland? No, they won’t come to honor their friendship. At least, not until she was ready to march into their territory.Tai gnashed her teeth. If this were the people who they counted on to fend off the World Enemy, Phantasia was doom. That day would happen again. The horror of the ancient era would return. “Tai,” said the voice nearby. “You are sweating. Are you okay?” “Don’t worry, Dia,” Tai Hua replied to her best friend in this life. “Just remembering a nightmare.” … Inside the command post on the other side of the battlefield, a furious discussion erupted. “Attack now!” A woman in an ornate robe yelled. “Do you know who we are fighting? Why are we giving that monster a chance to prepare? They only have 50,000 soldiers. We have seven times that number and a thousand X-cution war-machines. If we attack first and gain the momentum, we can crush the usurper right now!” “We can’t, Royal Consort,” a rough-looking man said. “We might have more troop, but this is Tai Hua Tianshang. She would never move unless she knows she can win. We should wait for the back up from the capital before we attack.” “As expect from a mere mercenary,” the Royal Consort sneered. “A money-chasing hog as you only have to do what I order.” “Look here, Milady,” the rough-looking man cleared his throat. “You are right. My men and I are here for the money. And we need to be alive to use it. So if you are going to let your ego get to your head and sent us to die like a pig in a butcher shop, I will excuse myself and pack my 45,000 brothers out of here.” “You dare-” Suddenly, two figures entered the tent. “Calm down, Ruho,” said one of the figures-- a eunuch by the name of Migras. “Our guest is right. We can’t afford to underestimate Tai Hua.” “But big brother Migras!” Royal Consort Ruho complained. “He dares disagree with me!” Migras laughed cheerily. “The commander has a right to speak his mind. Unlike us, he will be risking his life, so allowing him to complain a bit isn’t asking for much. The sooner this is over, the better it would be for Frisnia. That why I bring with me an expert on our target. I already believe you know who she is.” Migras waved to his right and introduced the room to a young woman beside him. She was a girl clothed in a golden dress with dark-orange hair. The girl was petite, but her figure contained much gravitas inspite of her height. Her chest was leaning into the flat side, but her thigh easily compensated for that discrepancy. Upon seeing her, everyone in the room bowed. “Lady Chuang,” the Royal Consort greeted. “Please order us to attack! Today we will root out the threat of Tai Hua Tianshang once and for all.” Chuang took a deep breath and replied. “No.” Ruho glanced up. Her face was as white as a sheet of paper. The mercenary commander behind her fell off his chair from sheer shock. Even Migras whistled in amusement. Did Chuang Tianshang, the most infamous single-minded hothead of the entire divine collective, just refused to attack. The behavior they witnessed now utterly went against everything they knew about her. The Chuang Tianshang they heard would already lead the full-frontal charge against her enemy like a bull in a china shop. Expecting restraint from her was like expecting goldfish to walk.Chuang ignored the reaction and continued to explain. “The X-cutions and our troop numbers indeed give us a substantial advantage,” Chuang addressed the room. “But Tai Hua is more dangerous than we imagine.” Chuang clenched her hand. “Those six A-rank commanders, including the Heavenly Daughter of Earth, practice the cultivation art developed by the Ancient--the pre-curser race of Phantasia. We cannot underestimate them. Within ten years, I have no doubt they will become an SS-rank capable of crushing Frisnia by their lonesome. Even now, we can’t afford to take them lightly.” “This is all the more reason to attack!” Ruho called out. “We can’t allow any of them to escape if that is true.” “Calm down, Ruho,” Migras said again. “But we have a thousand X-cutions!” Ruho exclaimed. “Even if Tai Hua is that powerful. We can still drown them-“ “Drown them with what?” The mercenary commander interrupted. “Bodies? I warn you right now. If you commit my men into a suicide charge, I will leave no matter how much you offer!” Chuang cough. Everyone turned silent. When did I-blast-people-and-ask-later Chuang learn tact? They could understand a reckless fool developing caution, but tact? Did Chuang eat the wrong medicine without them knowing? “The X-cution is indeed a formidable advantage in this battle. However, Tai Hua has a hidden technique that can create a fluctuating magnetic field to stop the X-cution. This particular technique can be deployed battlefield-wide with the right instrument—the instrument that Kar'Dia can easily create.” Everyone stood silent with surprise. “I never know she can do that,” the commander blinked. “No one should know,” Chuang nostalgically looked at the sky. “Tai Hua has countless closely guarded secrets and techniques of the Ancient. Even I only know a few under her belt.” “Lady Chuang,” Migras said urgently. “Do you have a plan?” “Yes, but it will be risky.” … 3 Days later at Palma Creek Tai Hua frowned. All of this was getting strange. The Chuang she knew would already mount an assault to take the momentum. Instead, her fellow student waited for her arrival patiently at the other side of the creek with her army. Tai Hua frowned. What was up with Chuang’s infamous recklessness? “Halt!” Tai Hua ordered her army. The experience war-machine in silver armor responded to their leader command. Time rolled as the mismatch army stared down against the unfeeling knights in steel. The tension was high enough to support a house. Finally, Tai Hua decided to cut to the chase. “Chuang, I know you are hiding behind your army! Come out and face me! Or does this few months outside master’s arms turn you into a coward!” Shink! Tai Hua's eyes widened in surprise at a knife of fire protruding from her stomach. A gasp barely registered her mouth before she coughs up blood. “Grand leader!” “Boss!” “Tai!” Kar’Dia, wrapped in armored robe and shawl, looked aghast at the spell running her crush from behind. She couldn’t understand what happened until Chuang Tainshang appeared behind Tai Hua in an air of shimmering heat. The orange-hair girl wore a robe scribbled with signs and symbols even she didn’t recognize. Chuang's hand extended a bade of flames that skewer Tai Hua through her back. Tai Hua looked behind her. “W-When did you-“ “When did I learn how to pull a sneak-attack,” Chuang finished the question as blood started dripping from her lip. “Actually, not that long. I have to cobble together this invisible cloak to help me pull it off. Hell, hiding from you took so much power the cloth will probably catch fire anytime soon.” Right on cue, the cloak Chuang was wearing burst into flames. “[Thunder Strike Nine Flash]!” One of Tai Hua A-rank general appeared next to Chuang and unleashed his technique; ninefold sword-slash launched at the frequency it merged into one. In response, Chuang crushed a red paper-tag she held in her free-hand, unleashing a flaming-bird construct that clashed against the swordman. The bird got cut to pieces, and the aftermath sent Chuang flying and bleeding from several cuts. Kar’Dia couldn’t believe what was happening in that split second. Chuang was the second strongest Heavenly Daughter. Even now, her power was only second to Tai Hua. What type of nonsense made it possible for an attack this shallow to land.? That red-tag must be a precast delay spell. But Chuang was an offensive juggernaut who fought upfront. Delay spell didn’t mesh well with her style due to its bothersome inefficiency. If Kar’Dia was honest, the opening move also made no sense. How did all their countermeasures fail to detect Chuang of all people? And what happened after that was equally strange. What caused Chuang to bleed? Moreover, what stopped Chuang from obliterating Tai Hua with a sure-kill spell in that surprise attack? Then it hit her. “No way.” “What are you talking about, Chief!?” An A-rank commander arrived in front of her and fired a blast of purple energy at Chuang. “Chuang used a spell to put herself in the near the state of death,” Kar’Dia blanched. “She knows our defense wouldn’t pay attention to a corpse, so she froze her life-activity to sneak past our defense and five-senses to land a critical before a battle start.” “Froze her life-activity? That is pretty much killing herself!” The A-rank commander blanched. “How did she even move?!” Suddenly the ground around them glowed like an inferno. Tai Hua realized the spell being used and cursed through her bloody lips. “[Flame Ascendant Ritual]? When did you discover how to store this spell!?” The struggling Chuang looked up with stone-cold expression. “Got you.” The ground beneath Tai Hua’s army cracked as fires exploded toward the heaven and engulfed Tai Hua’s Iron Army. … The Royal Consort saw the explosion from the command tent and gave her order. “Lady Chuang’s signal is here!” She ordered the tropes. “Use this chaos and wiped them out with a full-frontal fire!”The allied army of Frisnia surged with power and flung every projectile they could. Spells fell from the sky and smashed into the chaotic battlefield like a rain of godly arrow. The crescentic sound of bombshell haunted the battlefield as the colliding power altered the shape of the land. The mercenary commander confidently rallied his men. He knew this was the moment he could finish the enemy. The infantry troop roared, preparing to rush in and destroyed the Iron Army under the magical onslaught. However, before any troop could engage at close-quarters, a flash of fire burned before the army. The wisp of flames faded and deposited an orange-hair girl in front of the infantry. Chuang staggered up while nursing her injury. Her lacerated dress ripped even further, and her skin bled from several cuts across her body. The girl tried to steady her breathing. It was a gamble to bypass the Iron Army by critically lowering her body's activity. And even then, she only succeeded thanked her talent as a puppet-maker. It would be quite a while before she get back to 100%. But Chuang knew full well what that monster could do. It would take more than a lucky sneak hit to bring her down. “Hold your position!” Chuang screamed. “But they are down!” A random trooper yelled. “No one can survive that.” “Like it will be that easy.” Right on cue, silver motes of light drizzled from the sky. They fell like a soft-heavenly feather. For the troops, this phenomenon appeared harmless. Unlike them, Chuang could barely suppress her panic. “All soldier, hear my order!” Chuang grabbed her communicator and yelled, getting on her feet and backing away. “Retreat! Disperse at once! Do not let the light-mote touch you! It is an enemy attack!” From the command tent, the Royal Consort responded. She might be snobbish, but she wasn’t stupid. If an attack terrified someone like Chuang Tianshang, it must be something horrifying. They couldn’t take it with any half-measure. “Every mage stop the bombardment!” The Royal Consort declared. “Switch every power available into the barrier!” The rain of spells ceased. Instead, the trained mage of Frisnia waved their power toward the sky, covering the army in an array of barriers. It was an impregnable shield fueled by over 100,000 mages--a defense that could withstand several barrages of Earth’s nuclear weapon. But Chuang only felt dread. “Stop! Don’t you hear me!? Disperse!” Just as Chuang feared, the mote of light fell through the magical barrier like it didn’t exist and rained on the allied army. “What is this?” A soldier tried to block the mote with his shield. The mote connected with his defense, and in a flash of silver dust, his end arrived. Cut and blood appeared all over the man-body a thousand tiny blades minced him to oblivion. His squadmate saw what happened, and they suddenly knew why Chuang called for a dispersion. The realization spread all over the army as the number of bloody drenched bodies emerged. Some unlucky ones got reduced into body-part in an instant. “Shit!” A mage screamed as the motes of right sailed past his wall of wind. "They can't be stopped with spells!" The speck of death got him a second later. A soldier panicked as his comrade got reduced into mincemeat. Another man tried to stop the endless bleeding of his dying friend. Randomly, throughout the entire allied army, panic and terror spread in the rank. “Fall back!" Ruho ordered through every communication device in front of her as she scanned the artifact monitoring the casualties. The number rose too fast. “Retreat until you are out of the range of the attack!” … Chuang didn’t run alongside her troops. She knew running wasn’t enough to escape this fight. A limping woman marched through the fires. Her hand clutched the burning wound in her stomach. But, despite being impaled by a flaming knife in the back, Tai Hua still retained her composure. “I have to admit you catch me by surprise,” Tai Hua said, wincing from her wound. “I don’t think I can run after your troop in this state. To think I have to show you my ace attack--unbelievable. I still can't believe I have to acknowledge you for taking several of my people down.” “Lair,” Chuang sneered. “They are all fine, right? By this time, you and Kar’Dia should already furbish [Mercy of Land] onto your troop's armor.” Tai Hua’s eyes widened. “You know too much,” said the Heavenly Daughter of Steel. “No one in the modern era should have so much knowledge about the Ancient's artifact.” An army marched out of the flaming creek; grains of yellow particles cladded each soldier's armor and linked them all together like beads on an unbreakable string. “Yes, my troops are perfectly fine,” Tai Hua commended. “That is Kar’Dia's reaction-time for you. Now care to tell me how much of my secret you discover, Mrs. Tianshang? When exactly are you from?”

Tap. Tap. Tap. Under the dark shadow of the cockpit, Illma Zoldia Road heard the footsteps. It wasn’t the masked man. His steps were light, barely noticeable. These footsteps just felt too sinister in comparison. Each tapping sound brought down the pressure of wrongness and unfathomable force, warping the reality around her. Illma’s body sank, her mind cracking as the world twisted and darkened with each of those will breaking tapping. Then Illma finally saw her. The black hair woman wrapped in hood and blue-wisp of mana so dense it was visible to the naked eyes. “My, my, where do all that superiority disappear to, my pitiful little chimp?” the ominous voice mocked. "I am an Untouchable," Illma wheezed. She stood no chance against this woman. Right now, her only option was to beg for cooperation or die doing so. "Help me, and the Alliance will generously award your aid." “The Alliance?” the woman tone was more insulted than angry. “I FOUNDED THE ALLIANCE. Those disobedient mutts have been running around in circles ever since I left them to their own devices. Scrapping to Aurorin, catering to those idiots in the Isle of Knowledge, bowing to those filthy animals on Asgard and Olympus!? Bah, I only left them alive because they are still useful.” Illma stood stunned. Who is she? Not even the Demonic Continent in all its bravado held such disdain to the Seven Continental Alliance and the god behind them. No, the answer should be obvious. There weren’t that many people who participated in the founding of the Alliance. And even then, there was only one who even the gods fear to offend. “And the Untouchables!" the mysterious woman continued her rant.“Those imbeciles dare grant those miserable turds such immunity? The audacity! Only me and mine have merited such achievement! The thought of the like of you monkies surpassing us, the heaven bless children, is absurd!" Illma gulped. That cemented it. The message espoused was indeed hers. But that was impossible, that legend was lost in the Forbidden Zone, leaving only monumental accomplishments behind. Moreover, while their ideology matched, the personality was too far apart. Every document said that she always carried herself with grace and politeness as expected from the most sophisticated of all races. This woman was nothing like the historical record. “Oh,” the woman noticed. “You realize who I am? Fascinating, maybe those mayflies monkeys do evolve a brain after a few hundred years of being blunter than bricks.” “You are M-“ The air freeze and the words died in Illma’s mouth. “You dare utter my name with my honorific?” The woman chillingly stated. “No,” Illma scampered, wanting to dig behind the metal wall and hid there. “No, exalted one.” The woman smiled. “Good, I am glad to see even monkies can learn manners,” The woman blushed her hair narcissistically. “It only takes your kind about several centuries.” Illma’s heart nearly stopped. It was bad. No one in the world would dare to be that person imposter. All this meant she was dealing with the real deal. The woman whose rise to power symbolized the elven golden age. But why now? Why did she faked her death and hid this long? “You must be wondering why I reveal myself to you?” said the elf. “Yes, exalted one,” Illma swallowed her pride and bowed down. No one, individual or group, could afford to anger this monster. She needed to play-ball and hoped she got out of this mess alive. “That dragon you fought today is a weakling from the Forbidden Zone,” the woman said. “But despite its feeble strength, I suspect it might be a clue to solve the mystery Smu’ag. But that isn’t important now. I have a new target: you." Illma froze. “Admittedly, this isn’t my idea,” the elf admitted much to Illma surprised. “Yes, no need to be shocked. Part of being the favorite child of the creation is admitting one shortcoming. Even a mere human could come up with a decent idea once in a while.” The woman mused sinisterly. “Extracting the X-cution knowledge out of you and modifying it to create an army sound excellent.” Illma saw this as an opportunity. “Yes, exalted one,” Illma knelt. “I am willing to-“ “Save your word,” said the elf. “What use do you have? You spent half a decade sitting on cutting-edge technology and let it collect dust. Meanwhile, a child playing dress-up just suggested a way to utilize your knowledge better than you ever could. Your uselessness sore my eyes." “But exal-“ Slick! Slice! Illma’s body exploded into equally cut cubes of blood and organ. It was a bloody feat made possible with unbelievable usage of wind and water cutting magic. Blood splattered violently across the room, marking a violent and instantaneous demise. Despite the attack untame savagery, Illma's bodiless head remained untouched, wearing an expression of disbelief. It was a testification to her killer precision and speed. The mysterious elf picked her prize by its hair and disappeared in a flash of light and laughter. With that, the Milian Incident came to a close. … A few days later, Melody was saying good-bye to the gang. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Cytortia said. Melody feigned a tired laugh. “I need to help my Ma rebuild the shop. Moreover, you already have your hand full.” Cytortia responded by desperate ranting. “That is why I need your help!” Cytortia said. “You have a healing factor! You are the only one who get out of this mess without needing serious patching up. Do you know we ran out of our medical supplies this month? Plus, I have to stop those two idiots from leaving their beds.” Melody cringed with pain. Horizon Dawn must be the organization with the highest injury rating she ever knows.  Rem sank into a coma for four days straight the moment he hit the bed, but somehow the lightning elf managed to get it worse than Rem. Cytortia diagnosed several torn muscles, fractured bones, and nerve damages across Luxinna's body. The treatment Cytortia put the elf through sent four-night worth of haunting howl to haunt Melody’s dreams. Melody won't admit to anyone, but she got a nightmare afterward. Although Luxinna walked out of this catastrophe limping on a cane with her throwing arm in a sling, victory was still hers. The incident fallout was epic. Firstly, Port was too psychologically, physically, and reputably shattered to continue his post as the Mayor. As for Taku Enma, he left within the minute of the dragon’s death. Despite the extensive damage to the North-east section, Millian came out of the crisis intact, and already the reconstruction speed was promising. Finally, to add the cherry on top of it all, Illma’s influence all but fizzled out the moment the investigator sent by the Alliance found her mutilated parts in her airship. However, the happy ending didn't win them everything. Emma clan already sent the new envoy to replace Taku. The rampage between Sicilian Ghost Dragon and Illma pumped out casualties approaching the hundred. Moreover, the Seven Continental Alliance already sent more investigators to discern the cause of Illma’s death. The formal report didn’t come out yet, but Rem already made it clear the mysterious masked heroes would likely get the blame. Those wrinkles aside; one more justice did get served. Due to their misconduct and blatant disregard for protocol, the entire adventurer body in Millian got demoted by one rank per the main branch order. Scathach expected them to pay a hefty fine for a long, long time. “I am sorry,” Melody said to the raving Cytrotia. “I have to fulfill Ma’s wishes. But I will tell you this: you guys are the first friends I ever have. Hopefully, one day, we will meet again.” Cytortia tried to argue, but she calmed down a moment later. “Yeah, good-bye,” Cytortia said. “Take care of yourself, Mel.” “Don’t call me Mel,” Melody replied through her gritted teeth. … Melody parted with the girl and drifted along the street of Millian, letting her instinct drawn her forward. She strolled past a group of children--two boys and a girl--playing on the street. They were wearing a crudely made white-mask and a black overcoat, pretending to be the heroes who saved them from the evil mad-woman. She smiled. Finally, she understood the real reason Rem wanted them to wear a mask. He wanted to give the kid something to believe. Melody walked further before finally arriving at the ruin of Illma’s mansion; a place where her humble home once stood. There she found her mother arguing with a surprise guess. It was AIon. “Are you sure, Majestia?” Aion flabbergastingly asked. “This is the recruitment offer from the Head Guildmaster of Phantasia. Think about it? Most adventurers would work to death just to get promoted to Balpera. Your daughter got invited to one of the most prosperous capitals of Phantasia. She is the second demon-race in all of history to receive this offer. The first is-“ “-Ebony Solarmaria,” Ebony finished with a poker-face. She couldn’t believe that Aion was dumb not to realize he was talking to the actual devil. “I know my history very well, Aion. And I can tell you that Melody already got a better offer.” “Who could offer better terms than Balpera?” Aion asked. “Majestia, your daughter should be rewarded for what she did. The Head Guildmaster couldn’t be more impressed in her courage.” “I know,” Ebony, aka Majestia, said. “Sadly, he wasn't impressed enough to go back in time and stop Illma from burning my home to the ground.” “Majestia, I…” “Save it, AIon,” Ebony answered. “I already have a plan for my daughter. She will become much more than a mere secretary in Balperia. Trust me on this.” Aion looked into her eyes, sighed, and left. He met Melody on his way out and couldn’t resist asking. “Where is your mom sending you?” “No idea.” “Are you sure about this? Balperia is-“ “One of the most prosperous countries in Phantasia. It houses the best private sectors from banking, research, and adventuring. Its capital, Tajoria, is nicknamed as the cadre of civilization.” “So you-“ “Save it, Guildmaster,” Melody said. “I trust my mother's judgment.” Aion nodded and started leaving. Then he suddenly stopped and turned around. “You know. You remind me of someone, particularly your red-hair.” “Oh, who is it?” “The hero who saved me from Illma’s dungeon,” Aion said. “It isn’t too long ago, but I will never forget her. It is quite unfortunate. If more people are like her, we wouldn’t need to fear Illma this much.”  Aion left. Melody didn’t turn to face him. She didn’t think she could hide her stupid grin. Ebony approached her daughter. “That is a terrible poker-face,” Ebony teased. “You are always incredibly weak toward compliment.” “Sorry, Ma,” Melody tried to keep her face under control. “Anyways, what is your plan?” “You heard the conversation?” Ebony struggled to keep a straight face. “I will tell you later, but first, we are having a picnic for you.” “Picnic?” Melody frowned. “We don’t have one since I was thirteenth.” “I know,” Ebony looked melancholic. “But I want to keep this memory before we move on.” … Luxinna woke up inside her room on the Black Mercy. She flinched from the sharp pain in her back. The girl grabbed a makeshift cane and walked out of her room as back slowly killed her. Outside, she saw everyone fiddling at a giant black box in the living room. That was strange, she thought, they already packed everything last night. In spite of massive uproar, things were looking up Horizon Dawn. They managed to secure enough dragon’s blood to make a profit even after splitting the spoils with Ebony. While they failed to recruit Melody, the setback wasn’t a crushing one. All in all, the entire gang came out ahead. However, Rem didn’t rest easy despite his days of coma. He made a troubled face the moment he received the new of Illma’s death. Honestly, Luxinna was glad they never got their hand on the X-cution. Even Rem didn't trust himself with that knowledge and only wanted Cytortia to have it after defanging Illma.  Furthermore, Rem emphasized that the only missing pieces of Illma’s body part were her head. That translated to someone out there had access to her brain, and with it, the X-cution project lived. It was a though that sent shivered down Luxinna’s spine. “What is that box doing here?” Luxinna said. “Ebony’s gift,” Scathach explained. “She carted it here last night as a souvenir and told us to take care of it. It supposed to contain many high-grade forging tools, supplies of weapons she prepared for us, as well as her greatest masterpiece." “Why don’t you open it yet?” Cytortia explained that one. “This is a high-grade artifact personally created by Ebony,” the goddess explained. “It is resizable, nearly indestructible, and has so many functions I lost count. Ebony said it is a surprise. And knowing how legendary her work is, we don’t want to force it open.” Luxinna nodded. It sounded reasonable, but Rem’s amuse expression didn’t bode well on her. “You know what is inside,” she stated. “I have a few guesses, but I don’t want to ruin it for everyone. Given the timer, the box should be open in three, two, one-“ The box flipped open, revealing a familiar drowsy demoness, tied and gagged inside the box. “Hello, Mel,” Rem said, barely lifting his eyes. “Goodmorning and welcome on board.” Everyone stood stunned. Melody glowed rad and burnt the rope tying her body. “What the hell is happening?” The demoness yelled before addressing the rest of the gang. “Where am I?” “In our less than impressive moving headquarter,” Rem answered. “Cy, check the box, please. I expect Ebony will leave us a note. Anyway, Melody, what is the last thing you remember?” “Ma and I were having a picnic,” Melody told them worriedly. “She said that she was proud of me, and I should follow my heart sometime. She was hoping that I will make a name for myself when we meet again? What does that mean anyway?” “Is the picnic consisted mainly of your favorite dish?” Rem asked. “Yes, why is that important?” Luxinna worked it out the moment later.  “Wait, you are telling me that picnic was a farewell meal?” Luxinna gaped. “Ebony Solarmaria drugged Mel, put her in a treasure chest, and entrusted her to us. Why?” “Because-“ Before Rem could explain, Cytortia cut him to the finish line and showed them the note in Ebony’s handwriting. “Dear Cytortia Tianshang,” Cytortia read. “Please excuse me for handing you this burden. Throughout my life, I’ve tried to guide my daughter the best I could. While I succeeded in some way, I failed in many others. Melody wants to join you and grow through another perspective that I couldn’t provide. However, my little idiot is too much of a mommy girl to ask that from me. So I decided to take the initiative to send her to you myself. I humbly ask you to take my daughter under your fold and give her the friendship she never got. Thank you, Ebony.” Melody’s expression warped as the word registered, and with all the breath in her lung, she yelled. “WHAT THE HELL MOM!!!!!” And that was how Empress got recruited.  

Rem put the report down; his expression caused Scathach to sag. It was a mix of concern, pity, and disproportionate level of annoyance. The badger couldn’t blame him; Aion’s capture was tragic. Even Ebony melancholically shared the sentiment in the corner. “How accurate is the intel?” Ebony asked the badger. “I couldn't say,” Scathach admitted. “By the time I get there, the fight was over, but I still managed to count the body.” “51 confirm deaths, 25 are civilians,” Rem chillingly narrated.“Unknown number capture. The witness reported an ambush by robotic cyborgs right in the middle of an inn. Someone told Illma Aion was growing a spine. My money was on the old mayor who, to quote the president of the USA, is low energy. Do I get my fact correct?” Everyone nodded. “Great,” Rem facepalmed. “Illma has a hostage, but she wasn't invincible. Melody, how is Project F-U” “Cytortia already adapted the Black Despair,” Scathach updated the information. “Melody's dispenser also progress as expected.” That was when the demoness arrived. “I finish the dispenser,” Melody tossed the disk to Scathach who caught it without turning around. “Is it true that Aion got capture?” “Yes,” Rem answered.  “Good,” Melody replied coldly. “Shame Illma didn’t kill him.” Scathach remained silent. Ebony glanced at Rem, who returned with a look of I-told-you-so. After a solid minute, Ebony finally conceded Rem the point. “Melody,” Ebony called. “That’s too much.” “Come on, Ma!” The girl shouted. “He came with Port to kick us out of our home, and you expected me to be sorry!? He's asking for this to happen when he chose that hawk from Enma's clan over us. Say what you want, but he deserves everything he is getting!” "Sadly, you aren’t joining him,” Rem calmly stated. ”Ebony, please rein in your daughter's hormones, or I will shove her down her porcelain throne.” Melody felt like someone whipped her face with a sledgehammer.  "Oh shit, ” Scathach mouthed, quickly evacuating from the verbal smackdown. ”You know what,” The demoness murderously growled. ”I have enough of you. This past few weeks you are calling the shot, while we do all the work. What give you the right to order me like your footsoldiers.” Rem responded by calmly putting his revolver on the table. "Maybe the fact that I can keep my genitalia under control," Rem spoke like he was ordering foods from restaurants. ”But if you don’t believe in my direction, you can grab the gun and shoot me.”  Melody stood stunned at this unexpected outcome, but she knew Rem better these days. No matter what she did, he would have a point she couldn't refute with utterly losing. Rem lifted the gun.  “Last chance,” he waved the gun in front of Melody. “Are you taking it?” “Stop with the game, what are your point?” Rem twirled the gun. “My point is your immaturity is unacceptable,” Rem said, catching the gun in its mid-spin. “But even that pales in comparison to your moronic vitriol and petty arrogance. Let start a thought experiment: what would happen if you shoot me?" ”You die, ” Melody answered. Rem rolled his eyes. ”Yes Melody, people die when they're killed; National news right there. What happens is simple; you'll get fired, and Cytortia will be in charge. The same logic applies to Millian. Let assume we put Illma out of her misery, off the dragon and fire Port and Taku Enma. News flash, we need to replace the head honcho. Sadly for us, Aion is the best and only option from the command chain. We need him alive and on our side whether you like it or not." “That’s bull,” Melody got angrier. “We can choose anyone to do that.” “Chose with what? A piece of self-advertisement?” Rem’s words cut deep. “What would stop the Seven Continental Alliance from installing a new sock-puppet? Aion is our best bet to hold things together, and you would let him die because he made the wrong decision. A decision he risked his life to correct no less. And this is only one town! Just One! Now do you see why you can't rule an entire continent, Mel! The only thing I would trust you to run is Disney.” “You trust her to run multi-billion enterprise,” Scathach screeched. “Are you crazy?” “No, I trust her to run the mouse to the ground." Melody didn’t know how to feel about how Scathach breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay,” Melody knew she was losing. Rem’s point wasn't something she could survive. “I admit that I might be too brash, but I can do this, I just need more time!” “Time?” Rem laughed. “No, no, no, you don't get the point. You are like a Liberal Art student signing up to work in the comic book industry. You have an agenda, and you refuse to see everything but that agenda. Let me ask you this what is the job of a king or queen?" “Ruling people!"  “Mel,” Rem said flatly. “The amount of time you need is a length between zero and infinity. Your chance of being a good ruler is equal to me, a Deplorable, becoming Democrat party’s presidential nominee." Rem stood up from the table. Some felt a mic dropped in the background. … A few days later. “Mayor, pour me another glass,” Illma Zoldia Road stretched out a wine glass. Mayor Port poured her another filled, suppressing the pained expression as he sacrificed his prize wine. Illma’s arrival was a curse. Port couldn't do anything with the mountain of complaint Millian threw at him. But despite the abysmal approval rating, no one dared to come out to protest against an Untouchable. No one in Phantasia was insane enough to rise against the authority of the gods, Seven Continental Alliance, and the Aurorin’s noble. Port shivered. He understood their feeling. In less than 127 hours, Illma had displaced hundreds of people, killed more than sixty people, and orphaned many other. She created a mountain of corpses to built artilleries and a marble country home. What did she get? Nothing; not even the slap on the wrist. Reporting the seismic activity to his higher up was the worse decision Port ever made. Now he was facing an approval crisis, about to see he home town engulfed in flame, and lost his best wine. Someone please ended this nightmare. Taku chose that moment to stumble into the balcony. The Catman must admit that the view was superb. Sadly, the knowledge of the massacre he witnesses to build the place made his stomach churn. Taku believed those trashes were only fit to wash his feet, but that didn't warrant them to be butcher like an animal. Even he thought that was unnecessary cruelty.  “Lady Road, the Signum Artilleries will be prime in the next fifteen hours. We are awaiting your order.” The two lumbering mass of metals guarding the door shifted, sending the tremor through Taku's spine. The X-cution Illma chose for her home-security was built like a tank. To be specific, they were a tank equipped plasma launcher, wind-magic, and gravity manipulating system. Those things reduced the entire area to smithereens. Ebony Solarmaria was a called the Duchess of Craft for a reason. Only B-rank and above had a chance against them. Taku groaned. Why did he deserve this? Illma tossed her wine glass to the side. The glassware shattered to pieces. “Unacceptable, I want the artillery ready in eight hour at the latest.” Taku and Port gulped. No one doubt Illma would lose. Who would even dare challenge an Untouchable? … Kilometers away from Millian, at that moment. “F-U 2 to 4 is ready,” Cytortia dragged herself to the blackboard of destiny. Black rings and soul-sucking cloud reflected from her eyes. Still, she smiled with triumph despite her overworking. “That quickly,” Rem was surprised. “I'm impressed. Here I am, thinking we need to cut the 4th out due to time constraint, then you went ahead and made miracle happened. How did you do it? I think I was asking too much with F-U 4.” “We're about to challenge the Untouchable,” Cytortia sank to the share from overwork. “I bring my A-game.” “Thank you,” Rem said. “We owed you everything, Cy.” “Give yourself more credit, you are the one who found a way around the X-cution,” Cytortia said. “And you better hurry. Ebony was finishing the sword.” … Ebony had been working on this blade for two days straight. Several months ago, Satholia gifted Horizon Dawn an ore. Ebony never saw anything like it; godlike Mana intensity, malleable, and perfect density. It was an ideal material to work with; almost too perfect to be true. With this miracle rock in her hand, the Duchess of Craft pulled no stops. She used every technique she had to refine the ore. The gang also bought her another material, while not as absurd as the ore, it was still insane. A crystal naturally charged with starlight, a tear-shaped pearl that resonated with her core. They were so rare that the only idea Ebony had was grinding them with Mithrill and Andamantine powder for a special additive. Ebony sighed. The ingot casting process was hell on Earth. The melt's temperature stood high enough to destroy traditional mold. Cytortia had to co-op an Alchemical coolant to make sand-casting possible. On the bright side, the forging process went smoothly. The craftsmanship was one of a kind. However, the tempering was where she hit the snag. After the magical blade blew up her fifth furnace, Ebony decided to call the meeting. … “Mom,” Melody looked at the blade awkwardly. “Is this blade sentient? And why are you telling us not to stay in front of it.” “It is sentient,” Ebony glared at the glowing blade. “Sentient sword like this often chose their wielder and contracted them through a blood pack. The general rule is that only an enchanted sword gain sentient. That was a fact until this child comes along." On one side of the table, Scathach drew out Luxinna’s blood. On the opposite end, Cytortia and Rem looked at each other nervously. “So we cannot use a normal furnace,” Cytortia said. “Is it that dangerous?” A light shooted out of the sword and blasted rock in the distance to dust. Everyone looked at the blade with newfound respect. “That should answer your question!” Ebony ranted. “That blasted beam destroyed five furnaces! Five! I work my craft for two decades, and this is the first time I’ve seen a weapon this rebellious.” “Comrades,” Rem said. “I have an idea.” Spoiler: no one like Rem’s idea. … “This is a terrible idea,” said Melody. The idea descended from a certain goddess’s last-ditch attempt to end a ghost hoard of her creation. Pole and string suspended the blades over the tub of oily, unholy liquid feared as the Black Despair. Cylinders of blue-gel containing 5 kilograms worth of the most volatile liquid within a thousand miles stood around the unholy ritual. Hoard of ghost started gathering around the site, turning the area hostile. Ebony quickly dripped Luxinna’s blood on the thirsty blade, and flee panicked flee as the blade shone dangerously. Normally Scathach would do the job, but it was her turn for recon, so the duty fell to Ebony. Luxinna shivered as the ghost started appearing in the air. She sincerely missed the forest right now. “Isn’t this the method I used to create ghost detecting crystal?” Cytortia nodded. “Yes,” Rem nodded, looking the crystal in his hand for confirmation. “You managed to create a tame and usable sentient detector with this method. Scathach told me the crystal have a soul; not two or three, but one soul that must originate from the ghost hoard. There are only two ways this is possible. You either created a spirit out of nothing, or the army of wild ghost rushed into the Angel Tear stone, cannibalized each other, leaving only the strongest spirit alive to be further refined by the flame. I believe we can’t create a living spirit, so I gamble on the later.” Luxinna clapped in enlightenment. “So modified what Cy did to create Ghost Detecting Crystal, and feed the ghost hoard to the blade," the elf said. "Will that works?” “I don’t know,” Rem nodded. “But we will find out tonight.” A footstep arrived behind them. “No,’ Scathach said grimly. “You won’t have a chance. Illma…” Rem sighed. It appeared they couldn’t complete F-U 5 in time after all. “The artillery is nearly up, am I right?” Rem said. “Knowing her, she will call the dragon up for a fight. Now, what do we do?” ”What do we do!?” Luxinna cracked her finger. “We get in position and kick her ass.” “Yeah, like it will be that simple,” Rem said. “Scathach, what is our main problem?” “Scrap the plan to interrupt the bombing,” the warrior maid answered. “Illma's using remote-control mine under a private signal. You won’t be jamming it with what you have on hand. Striking Illma directly won't do the job because the defense parameter is too tight. Good news is that Taku and Port already evacuate civilians from the danger-zone, barring some stubborn families refusing to move.” “Wow,” Melody mused. “How considerate of them?” Ebony let out a dry laugh. “No, Port's just afraid that they might rise for his head after Illma left,” the demoness corrected. “Port is a coward, but he isn't an idiot. Cytortia sulked. “So we go in with the battle plan.” “Yes,” Scathach answered. Ebony looked toward Millian with emotion. This week she lost her home for the last decade, got betrayed by two close friends, and now her entire community was getting suck into a warzone. But that was nothing compared to what she about to do. “Here what will happen,” Ebony said. “Melody, go with them.” “Mom?” “They need someone to operate the tool we created,” Ebony said, gesturing at the sword. “I will try to finish the sword as fast as I can.” She turned toward the gang. “Promise me you will leave Millian mostly intact.” “I promise,” Rem vowed and handed her a piece of paper. “You will need this.” Ebony took the paper with surprise. “Thank you, but before you go, I have a gift.” … A man marched into the room and addressed the woman sitting on her recliner. “Lady Road, we are ready,” he frightfully declared. Illma got up, smiling with insane glee. “Finally! Detonate the explosive!” … The explosion detonated, sending a tremor of shock under the ground. Underneath the dirt, a massive scaly body shifted, its eyes open wide from millennia of hibernation. Spirit of the damned simmered past the rock for their feast. Claws and enormous rows of teeth moved, breaking apart the stone encrusting its body.  After being a seal for countless years, a monster had awakened. … Kilometers from Millian, the area around the unfinished blade erupted into a firestorm, rinsing the hoard of ghosts in an inferno. Spirits of the damned cried in protest as the holy metal drank them up to strengthen itself. The Duchess of the Craft tossed a piece of paper, a blessing of the Inverse side, into the bonfire of Burning Sunshine and readied her ritual to craft the greatest of the holy blade. The tower of flames rising into the sky signaled the start of the incident that would turn the tide of Heavenly Daughter’s conflict. And begun was the X-cution incident.

Despite her victory, Luxinna was anything but fine. The elf convulsed and fell to the ground. Her head was a hemorrhaging storm of migraine, while her body protested with cramp from the burden she put them through. Biological limiter existed for a reason, forcing it open was a perfect ground for painful consequence. It was the price the elf paid willingly, although she wished it hurt a lot less. The totality of cramp, ache, and anguish Luxinna felt in that ten seconds was comparable to the sum she ate during her slugfest with Illma Road. Luxinna tried to move, but her muscle denied the request. Unknown to the elf, overclocking muscles tended to leave the tissue unusable. Her bone also took so much beating that normal movement became impossible for her. It would take Luxinna a few years to overcome the weakness of her [Overdrive], but today her salvation came in the shape of a sword. It was the light licking her vision that made her lookup. The pain laden log of an elf saw a shining ornate sword arrived before her. The sword was calling, speaking to her soul and begging her forward. Instinctively, Luxinna crawled toward the sword and grabbed it by the hilt. It was a mistake. The sword chained itself on Luxinna's wrist in a flick of the golden chain emerging from its hilt. Before the elf could even scream, the sword flew into the sky with a terrified passenger in tow. … Meanwhile, on the other side of Millian, an octopus was guiding a young girl toward her destiny. Melody found herself in front of the town prison, questioning how did her life take her here. The prison was made out of stone reinforce with metal pillars and bars. Its gate was a thick, imposing behemoth of black iron. Melody Solarmaria did not doubt that an overwhelming number of Illma-selected guards was waiting inside the building. It was the place Illma locked up individual who opposed her after all. Security and torture in this place spiked ever since Taku Emma moved in. And it was where she found him. Remus Breaker stood, loading his revolver. At his feet were two very familiar people. One was the quivering Taku, who looked at her as if she was his savior. Next to him was a man she barely recognized as Port. Melody stared. It appeared Rem didn't skip his leg day. Port looked like he suffered through ten-years of purgatory, which was impossible. The only explanation Melody could come up was Rem was way better at interrogation than she expected. Port's left arm hung dislocated at the shoulder and bent out of shape at several nasty angles that send a shiver down Melody's spine. Rem must dislocate the limb and broke the femur in three separate places. Then she saw what Rem did to his hand. All the nails on Port's left hand were missing. All the fingers twisted mercilessly. Meanwhile, his crooked left leg bled from a bullet wound. Rem, being a smart man, also went at Port's face, leaving behind a swollen right eye, and seven missing teeth from the mouth that was hemorrhaging blood. “Oh my god,” Melody gulped as the Port's horrid condition sunk in. “Don't tell me this is your handiwork?” Taku turned to his savior. He scampered toward the demoness, ignoring the pain from his broken leg. “Save me!” Taku wailed, clinging on to Melody's leg. “I will give you whatever you want! But get me away from him!” “Re-“ “It’s Dream,” Rem interrupted her. “Refrain from using names in front of a loose end, Ms. Empress.” Melody looked at the two psychologically destroyed people. Port voicelessly sobbed like a baby. The man was in too much pain to form a coherent sentence, and too afraid to make a noise. Meanwhile, Taku cowered from Rem like he was a demon. The beast-man completely threw away all his arrogance as a superior species. Right now, he wanted to do nothing more than getting away from one boy. Taku changed his mind. Humanity was, without a doubt, the most terrible race ever appeared on Earth, and the first thing he wanted to do after surviving this was finding a place to hide. “Dream?” Melody said. “What did you do to them?” “Not a lot,” Rem replied stoically. “Only a few interrogations. I ran across these two fleeings, so I decided to have a little chat. Taku over there thought I am a pushover, so I need to preserve my cred a bit. Of course, I need him to apologies properly, so I decide to use Port as an example. I dislocated his shoulder first, not that I expected its to work, then I started pulling off his nails. He begged me to stop, but that isn’t useful, so I broke his arm to get the message across. Personally, I prefer something more bloodless like electrocuting the genital or waterboarding. But I only have blades, so I compromised. It took two more broken femurs for Port to start making promises. I expected it, but it still left me sick in the inside my mouth. In my modest opinion, 2D women slam 3D one hand down, and we already have enough money. So I decided to make myself clear.” “Oh god,” Melody looked at Rem in a new light. “Princess, the gods are assholes,” Rem replied, missing the point with levity. “Well, let say I decided to go with dentistry. And that is how I discovered pulling teeth tumps broken fingers.” Rem sighed. “You know, going with that method first would have saved me a lot of time and energy.” Taku shivered. The description was accurate. The beastman knew this because he witnessed the whole ordeal, but this summary didn’t capture what truly happened. His torturer barely shifted his voice or acted threatening in that hellish half an hour. No, the monster didn’t bluff. Everything he did was emotionlessly logical. An order got issued, non-compliance led to vague warnings, further transgression went straight to punishment. There were no arguments, no hesitation, no listening to pleas or bargains. It was like haggling against a hurricane. Taku thought back to Illma. The Untouchable was a textbook sadist; she tortured for the sake of seeing pain. People would die rather than get captured by Illma Zoldia Road. But this guy was a sociopath. He did nothing more than he had too, and he did so without a hint of hesitation. Taku used to think the sadist was deadlier, but he changed his mind. Sadist was unstable, undisciplined, and self-center. A sociopath was logical and merciless. One of them would throw the mission away the moment she felt like it, while another would get the job done one way or another. The boy offered two consequences. Taku decided to pick the one that saw him live. Melody didn’t know what to feel about Rem’s newly identify skillset, so she ignored it to ask the obvious. “What’s the plan?” Rem raised his hand. “First thing first,” the boys gestured at the cowering Taku. “You can go now. Run as fast as you can.” Rem spun his revolver. “If you fight, I will shoot you and pull out all your teeth. If I see you again, I will-“ “Shoot me and pull my teeth out,” Taku shivered. “You are learning,” Rem turned away from him. “Start running.” Taku bolted instantly, crawling away from Rem as fast as he could on a half-broken leg filled with bullet holes. “Now the plan,” Rem showed her the document. “This is a gift I extorted from Port and Taku.” Melody read it. It was an appointment notice with botches of bloodstain dotted across the paper. The handwriting was trash, but the signature and seal was legitimate. “Your handwriting is terrible,” Melody was unimpressed. “What is this miracle paper?” “This is a re-appointment order issued by Mayor Port and approved by Emma Taku,” Rem stated. “Issue under duress,” Melody added. “Mel, the devil is in the detail, and tonight Satan is on vacation,” Rem said. “With this neat little paper, I have a right to re-appoint Aion as a Guildmaster.” Rem shrugged. “Technically, Illma can file an injunction on this order, but I doubt she can do that from a cell. Now, we only have to free Aion and get him to stop those morons from blowing our operation.” “Hey, are you sure we are doing the right thing?” Melody asked. “I don’t know about this Rem. I don’t think I know the difference between good and evil anymore. My father's compromised, you torturing Port, this entire mess; nobody is the good guy here.” It was a combination of fatigue and her new-found knowledge that pushed Melody into blurting that out. For a second, she thought Rem would laugh at her and reply with his usual blend of sarcasm. Instead, the boy’s response could almost be called gentle. “The fact that you no longer see black and white is a good sigh,” Rem replied in a rarely seen compassion.“People agree that evil should burn, but we can't agree on what is evil. Is a man evil for refusing to pay his tax because he knows it will fund a tyrannical government? Does the woman advocate for universal healthcare good, when the program is unfeasible and will result in an economic disaster? Good and evil are intertwined. An inability to accept that truth will lead to an unmitigated disaster. Hence, why it is always good intentions that pave the road to the end of the world." “Is that why you oppose my dream so badly?” “Yes,” Rem answered. “When I ignored all your claims and focused on what you want, I didn't see a girl wanting a better world or asking for a way to make it better. I see an entitled brat who wanted power, and maybe payback. That speech about being a better monarch? They were the decoration to make you feel more justified. You are like a Modern Artist quacking on about how bold and unique the art you made is despite it being a lazy splash of literal shit-filled paint on cheap canvas you try to sell to me for money. Only an idiot would believe you will keep that beautiful promises about being a better queen after you step from the stair of corpses to put your fat ass on that throne." “Wow, what did modern art do to make you hate it so much?” “Correction, I hate everything,” Rem continued. “I’m not a good person, Melody." Rem glanced melancholically at the sky. "I failed when it counted the most, so I try not to be led by altruism. All of this is done partly to repay the entity who believe in me when even I don’t, partly because I won’t live in a world where the ideal of Superman isn’t real. It is personal and selfish, but I will lead from the ditch into the gate of hell to be that Superman. That is why I wear a mask." "A mask?" Melody said. "You know. That is one of the things I don't understand about your group. Most of the people who wear mask try to avoid the spotlight. But you guys participate in this battle in a mask for the world to see. Don't you want the credit for your work?" Rem instinctively touched his mask. “Leave the street cred to those insecure enough to need it,” Rem said. “When I put on this mask, I embody a symbol. I don't need recognition or fame. Those things will only call my enemy down on my neck anyway." The boy gathered his breath before continuing. "With this mask, even if Rem Breaker die, the symbol of Horizon Dawn will remain as hope for the powerless. Anyone can put this mask on and become the bearer of hope for the people. Maybe one man couldn’t create world peace alone, but one symbol might. It is a bet I am putting all my chip in." Melody barely understood Rem's speech, but the golden octopus by her leg got its timing perfectly. With the activation of its skill, the black cloak and masked appeared on the floor. “There is the uniform, if you want to follow me to save Aion,” Rem marched toward the prison. “Even the symbol of justice need to master how to make a good impression." … Meanwhile, on the other side of the town, a goddess watched the crowd assembling in terror. “My god they are here,” Cytortia eyed the gathering adventurer nervously. “How the hell did the situation get this bad?” “Why do you ask?” Scathach couldn’t help but feel annoyed at her cowardly charge. “It’s your fault that thing went this bad. That poison supposes to finish the dragon for good.” That finally snapped the goddess's fragile mental cohesion. “Poison? Do you know how hard I work on that toxin? I need to research the Sicilian Ghost blood-cell under a hell of an assumption. We are lucky I manage to find those record. I didn't even get to sleep this last three nights. Do you know how hard it is to modify the black despair and rig the solution up with a high-speed catalyst I invented on the fly? Who the hell would know that the dragon can undergo Litchification? F-U4 only work on a living cell for heaven sake!” “Yeah, I know you work hard,” Scathach noted the adventurer getting in position. “But if they start attacking the dragon, it might go critical and blow the entire Millian up in flame.” Suddenly, a gold, flying comet slashed across the sky and slammed itself in front of the duo. The two women turned toward the glowing meteor, or in this situation, a gleaming sword and debilitated elf. Cytortia looked at her friend. Luxinna looked terrible. Her coat was in scraps, and she was bleeding down both her arms and forehead. The elf also sported a burning welt across her skin. Her sky blue eye, shown through the broken mask, was worn and tired. The elf limped forward. But Cytortia barely cared about her friend beaten-up state. She was too happy that Luxinna made it out alive. “Oh, thank god,” the goddess tackled the elf with a tight hug. “We afraid you might not make it?” “I can’t breath,” Luxina wheezed. The goddess released her exhausted friend in a hurry before shaking her down for injury. “What happened to you? Did Illma do anything to you? How did you get away from her?” “Illma?” Luxinna managed. “It is a close match. But luckily, I managed to snatch the win.” “You win?” Scathach could barely believe it. Although Illma Zodia Road wasn’t a combat-oriented individual, the Untouchable’s record was solid. A no-name new-comer like Luxinna should get smashed before the like of her. Instead, a miracle happened, and her student emerged triumph. Scathach couldn’t help but felt the warm glow of pride in her chest. “Yeah,” Luxinna lifted the sword. “And I think I got F-U5 right here.”

Lucian Drakokia was an old elf with black Stalin's mustache. A younger elf in traditional paladin's gears accompanied him closely. Finally, a black-hair elf holding the air of arrogance gaudier than the jewelry she wore walked into the room. The entire party was wearing a traditional elven blue. Two bodyguards flanked visitors, intimidating the servant as if like wolves among a flock of sheep. Cytortia tried to avert her eyes from the gaudiness. Somehow, despite wearing that joke armor, she managed to retain some dignity. Scathach, in her badger disguise, sharpened a broad-head spear in the loudest way possible. Her beady eyes contained nothing but a void that was once mercy. Hidden behind his mask, Rem contemplated all the possible ways to eliminate these problems. Up to now, he came up with thirty-seven, and he was barely getting started. On the sofa, away from the action, Avar was immensely enjoying his popcorn. "Greetings, Lady Cytotia," said the mustache elf. "It's-" "Silence," Rem stole the elf momentum in a masterful streak. "You are in the presence of exalted goddess Cytortia, mentee of the universe most brutal Honey Badger." "Excuse me, I am-" Lucian said, his composure slipping. Rem was severely disappointed. "Please remain silent," Rem snubbed him politely. "You will talk in turn like civilize gentlemen, or our royal badger will teach you manners." Rem nodded to the right. Lucian and their party turned to see a Scathath grinding a buster sword triple her current size. Lucian began laughing. He arched back crackling as if this was one massive joke. Sadly, for the old elf, the badger wasn't in a laughing mood. Chunk! A massive sword impaled itself above Lucian's head. A very pale elf turned to look at a badger caressing an enormous spike mace. The patriarch gulped. His instinct told him that the badger hated his attitude, and bodyguards or not, what the badger hated would end in a trash compactor.  Behind him, the blond elf reached for his weapon as his awareness caught up to the hostility. Meanwhile, the black-hair elf sweated before the surprise attack in a mixture of fear and confusion. The masked boy decided to shatter the tension. "Excuse me, Gentlemen and Mademoiselle, please be calm. Our companion is touchy that no one can take her seriously." Rem slightly parted his fingers to show the tininess of said sensitivity. "As much as this intrusion is unwelcome, we will honor the code of hospitality. But please be aware that the courtesy will vanish the moment the badger threw a tantrum. My word of advice to you, Lord Drakokia: silence is a good civilization." Lucian glared at Rem. But by the power of unlikely teamwork, Cytortia coughed, shifting his attention back to her. Rem nodded and poured a cup of water before offering it to the goddess. Cytortia slurped the water down in a long gulp. Silence, no one dares to speak. The blonde elf's eyes twitched dangerously. The black-hair girl's expression transparently told everyone she regretted coming. Rem smirked. Smart girl. Woefully, she evolved her brain a bit too late into the game. On the metaphorical bench, the guard started thinking whether or not they should ask for a raise. Cytortia finished gulping down the liquid and handed the glass to Rem, who tossed the glassware over his shoulder. Smash! Every elf but Avar drew their weapon. Cytortia's straight face nearly collapsed from Rem's improvisation. Meanwhile, Scathach and Avar barely twitched. "Excuse my rudeness, but this unwelcome snag to my mistress's downtime annoys me greatly," Rem laughed sardonically. "More importantly, those robes are just... horrible. Normally, the badger will strip you naked and force you to run a marathon while carrying those clothes in a lead backpack." Scathach's eyes become enlightened. Luckily, Cytortia and Rem managed to keep their shiver under wrap for the show. Meanwhile, the Drakokia's party looked at their gaudy robe, frowning at how the conversation landed on their fashion. Rem continued. "Thankfully, my goddess managed to reason with our exalted badger. Although throwing you into a trash compactor will solve the immediate problem, such an act will only tarnish the honorable Nu Wa's name. I disagree, but life is full of compromises. Don't you think so, my mighty leader?" "Yes, compromise is dearly missing-" "I am not talking to an old relic of the past," Rem said, undermining Lucian's sentence. "I am speaking to the girl." All eyes directed toward the elf girl who got hit in the face with a verbal explosive. Magnolia Drakokia stifled back a curse. Lucian's and the blonde-hair elf's expression sank like someone caved their face in with a baseball bat. As a tactician, Remus Breaker enjoyed playing with the unexpected and the unpredictable. The boy didn't care about structures. What mattered was the goal. The endgame could be winning in Monopoly or even a speech, but Rem would always have a core-strategy to win. All hundreds of random tactics he improvised only existed to further this strategy. That was the mind of Rem Breaker. From the very first sentence, Rem aimed to halt the elves' momentum and take the high-ground. Scathach's threat was a tactic to trick the elves that a stake existed in this debate. The glass smashing was pure misdirection and shock value. All those steps paved into one bonfire, an unavoidable inquest at the enemies' weakest link. "Is this a joke?" Magnolia tried and failed to hide the unstable pitch in her voice. "You can ask the badger for that," Rem shook his head uncaringly, but internally, he was yelling in triumph. "The exalted furries do hate to hurt an innocent maiden." Cytortia nearly choked on the water she was sipping. "However, your companion will be paying the price," Rem winked at the girl. The elves turned to see Scathath examining a sharpened blade. One slash later and the badger's katana cut through a metal-board like it was a plate of biscuit. "So, please answer me about a compromise?" Rem leaned closer to Magnolia's face, adding more mental pressure on the thirteen-years old's shoulder. "Surely, you won't disappoint your family's name." Magnolia gulped but managed a reply. "Yes, a competent leader had to learn compromise for the good of all." "Do you mean good of all, or is it good for yourself?" Rem finished the fight by dropping the metaphorical boulder on Magnolia. Magnolia and Lucian looked as if a badger just threw a time bomb at them. The two forgotten guards started considering the prospect of employer change. Cytortia gave Rem a slow clap. Behind her, Scathach sneaked in a thumbs-up. "But an answer, no matter how much of a lie, is still an answer." Rem bowed toward Cytortia. "My goddess, I present to you two underpaid guards and their masters: an old derelict, an over-confident elf heiress, and an obnoxiously looking blonde young-master. May you grant mercy upon these poor misinformed souls as they try to drag us into their insignificant conflict." Silence. Three elves' mouth hung wide open. The raw honesty in such a declaration knocked their logic into a loop. The trio of stooges stood, oblivious that Rem had launched the second phase of his lynching with an all-new goal. "Disappointing, my servant." Cytortia clapped her hand, catching up to the plan and standing to greet her guest. "I'm sorry to let you down, my dear guest. Come, friends, enemies, and others! Please introduce yourself." The elves, clearly confused out of their minds, managed to move forward. Their facade of confidence started returning. "I am Lucian Drakokia," Lucian proudly announced, trying not to let the previous curve-balls got to him as he waved the pair next to him. "This is Artos Sevar, one of the brightest stars the elves ever produce. And I expect you must have heard of my proudest heir and beloved daughter, Magnolia Drakokia." Rem had to admit Magnolia was rightfully beloved. The ornate staff capped with diamond she was holding must cost a fortune. Almost as expensive as her silver necklace lined with sapphires and tiara of jewelry glittering annoyingly on her hair. Artos Sevar smiled sweetly. Rem instantly didn't trust him, at least not beyond how far he could shove the prick down a spear. And Lucian's mustache was just creepy. "I am not amuse," Cytortia stated. Rem agreed. "Shall I order the badger to terminate them?" Scathath tested a spear. It pierced the steel-board like a Hadron collider beam through an elf. "No, let them try to amuse me. It will be amusing." Rem entirely agreed with that. "I excuse my interruption to your evening," Lucian said, ignoring about how he came pretty close into becoming a spear's target. "But your visit to Lightwell is the joyous occasion for all of the elves. I can't believe Avar wouldn't say a single word. You must be here to enlist allies for your master decreed. My Lady; Avar House might be competent, but all know the strength of the Drakokia is unmatched in the North." "My banner stood with wise men with a good heart. Can you say that about yourself, Lord Drakokia?" Drakokia smiled haughtily at what he perceived to be raw naivety. "May I speak lady Cytortia," Artos Savar, the blonde strawman, sensed an attack opportunity. "Go ahead," Cytortia turned toward Rem. "He is the obnoxious young-master, right?" "You can call me Artos milady." "I believe the name is Jafar," Rem said. "It Sevar," The elf corrected. "Let stick with Jafar," Cytortia complimented sweetly. "It is a beautiful name." Jafar/Sevar gave up. "Now, back to business. Lord Jafar, Lord Drakokia, pardons my intrusion," Rem said. "But I have to ask you? What would stop you from filling our rank with your men only to subvert our organization later?" Drakokia and Jafar looked at each other as if the honesty caught them with their pant down. "We have our honor," Drakokia said, aghast. "The elves is one of the most loyal race in Phantasia. We will never violate our oath, Lady Cytortia. I am offended that your servant could announce such a thing. I am truly disappointed that you had recruited such an undisciplined man into her fold." "I'm also strongly disappointed that you dare to make claims on honor and loyalty," Cytotia replied. "Isn't it you who engineered your own daughter's banishment?" Drakokia's eyes twitched dangerously. Meanwhile, our host--elder Avar--smiled amusingly and stuffed more popcorn into his face. "You told her," Drakokia glared at Avar. "She heard the rumor," the elder replied, feigning sadness. "As a loyal and honorable elf, I wouldn't dare to conceal the truth to my benefactor; especially if it's about my worst regret. Clearly, you understand this too, Lucian." "We make an oath!" "The oath didn't mention anything about disclosing her information," Avar replied flatly. "I simply talked; nobody has been forced to act." Lucian looked like he was about to throw a tantrum, but someone else stepped up to the ring for a beat down. "May I speak, Lady Cytortia," said Magnolia. Rem was impressed. The girl had not given up despite the philosophical beating she suffered. He wouldn't count on her surviving for long, though. "Go ahead," Cytortia said. "Amuse me." "You appear to be a fan of honor and justice," the raven-hair elf sighed. "I will tell this from experience; justice won't get you anywhere. The other Heavenly Daughters, your senior sisters, disowned such restraint, and they already assembled a force powerful enough to warrant all attention. You, on the other hand, had only a badger and a fool. Lady Tianshang, we have a common enemy." Magnolia took a deep breath and looked at the goddess in the eyes."Join us, milady, together we can forge an empire that makes all of the sacrifices worth it. Our power is growing exponentially. With the support from you and lady Artio, we would be able to triumph over the like of Fire and Steel, and return balance to Phantasia." Cytortia's eyes twitched with conflict. Sensing that, Rem gestured her to stop. "You are certainly right, my dear!" Rem walked forward and tousled the little elf's hair. Silence. No one believes a stranger just tousled the hair of Drakokia's heiress. Using that shock, Rem unleashed the technique of a Bajuquian priest who enjoyed the pain of humanity: prattling. "You are right. How can one person stand against the force of the world? How can a weak ideal stand against the evil you support?" "What are you doing?" The elf girl said in confusion. "I am prattling. It's a professionally distinguished practice of those who derived enjoyment from the suffering of others." And Rem prattled on. "But what are you without an Ideal--without dreams? With no flag or spiritual values to unite behind, we are nothing more than a savage animal trying to survive. The like of you smash down the monument of good but never have the strength to replace it. But still, I shouldn't expect any better, believing so would be like expecting a rock to understand the meaning of life." Rem spread his hands. Mana steeped in the ideal borderlining insanity pulsated.  Lucian stepped away. The difference in strength and experience was in his favor, but at that moment, his battle instinct caught a glimpse of what the boy would become. The boy reminded him too much of the Forbidden Zone's raw intensity. Beside him, Artos Sevar paled. As for Magnolia, she nearly collapsed on her knees. Then Rem delivered his proclamation. "Little girl, do you know it is your ideal which will unite the people and build those empires of yours? We never need dominion nor power; such a thing will only bring misery. What we want is that better tomorrow--a tomorrow where a girl with destruction in her vein can smile proudly when the Gjallarhorn blows and call us to defend what is right in this world. Your empire is a fragile, dainty thing propped by a false bravado of a little family that can't even accept one of their own. Now, who is the pathetic one?" The speeches raw grandeur backed Magnolia to the fence and left her defenseless. "It's the elder's decisions that I am an heiress," Magnolia fought back bitterly, trying to divert the conversation. "What happened to Luxinna Drakokia was simply an unfortunate necessity to preserve the Drakokia's reputation." "I don't associate myself with a clan who betrayed their own," Cytortia's stance was firmer than steel after Rem's speech. "Especially for such a petty reason." Lucian bristled in rage. Rem prepared himself. The pressure had done its job. Now, he had to nail in the final tactic to complete the strategem. Rem pulled out a throwing knife and revealed it to Magnolia. "Let me make a prophecy, Ms. Drakokia. No one knows who will be right until time decides. I lay mine believe in the concept that heroes and knight of justice will rise. You assume otherwise. So I will prophesize this: there will come as a day when hope seemed lost. When that moment of despair arrives, and hope abandoned you, a shining knight you never believe in will arrive and deliver you this blade. You can mark the blade anyway you want, but know the when it returns to you; it will be the moment where the Age of Heros began." Magnolia stood stunned until she abruptly doubled over laughing. Behind her, Lucian looked at Rem like he just walked out of an asylum and Artos Sevar--the straw man--stood there uncomfortably. "Lady Cytortia, your servant is hilarious!" Magnolia guffawed, all the stress leaving her shoulder. "Age of Heroes? What type of stupid age is that? You can barely cloth yourselves but spouse such an outlandish idea. My gosh, this is quite something." Scathach silently said her prayer as Rem tossed the elf a knife that clattered on the floor. "Mark the knife or leave it," Rem demanded. "It's up to you." Magnolia took the knife from the floor and traced her finger on its surface before tossing the blade back at Rem. "Don't worry," Magnolia gave Rem an arrogance smirk. "That word described you perfectly." Rem glanced at the glowing purple line etched onto the metal. 'CLOWN' Rem smiled on the inside. He successfully tricked a little girl into making a bet against the goddess of good. "Lord Drakokia," Jafar/Sevar said, ultimately realized he was wasting time. "I don't think they will be interested in our deal." Lucian gave Cytortia a growl, spun his robe dramatically, and left. With that, they disappeared one by one. At the last moment, Magnolia turned toward Rem with a bratty look. "I am looking forward to meeting that knights of yours, Mr.-" "Kent," Rem lied. "Clark Kent."

In the Black Mercy's training room, another activity was booming while Rem meditated on the couch. This activity consisted of an elf standing in the middle of a circular diagram with her arm outstretched. Electricity flowed from her body and into the gym's rubber-tile. Sigils beneath her feet began to glow with golden energy as it absorbed the lightning. Outside of the diagram, the goddess and the Badger observed her. Scathach took a peek at Luxinna's Status ID. ... Luxinna Latoria Lightning Caliber Stat: Str: 149 [E] End: 223 [D] Mag: 290 [D] Wis: 90 [E] Dex: 373 [C] Skill Active Lightning Magic [A] Animal Communication [B] Passive Child of Thunder (SS) Sword's Grace [A] Hidden Potential [N/A] Natural Instinct [S] ... "Fascinating," Scathach said. "Even without three years of training, you manage to develop several incredible skill-set of your own. That's diligence I am looking for." Cytortia walked in with a tablet and began talking excitedly. "This is great," she started scrolling down the database. "Unlike, the normal elves' [Child of Nature] attribute which enhances there ability to resist, sense and control water and nature magic. [Child of Lighting] is a much rarer trait; electrical resistance, electrical sensing, and lightning-magic augmentation. Our Luxinna breaks the current ranking at rank [SS] to boot. At this point, I believe Lucian was high when he exiled Lux." Luxinna's jaw dropped. "It is that good?" Luxinna asked. "Isn't being a child of your element something common among the elves? My friend has a [Child of Water], and my sister is a [Child of Spirit]. What is so special about [Child of Lightning]?" After she was sure that nothing would explode, Scathach answered to Luxinna excitedly. "You are right. All elves have a passive skill that symbolized their close bond to nature. Some even have a rare variation. An example would be your sister [Child of Spirit], which empowers her affinity with summoning and spirit magic. But your [Child of Lightning] is another story. Not everyone was born with such a link to lightning." Scathach spoke grandly. "I already said when we first met. Your family was a fool. Nobody with two digits of IQ will trade you for anything, not if they consider what an elf wielding lightning can become. Among all elements, lighting is the most difficult to tame. It possesses the most destructive might and backlash. Using it is incredibly hard, so hard that only beings with [SS]-rank skill over the power of lightning is Zeus. The badger proudly continued. "And the only reason he managed that is that he was born with a cheat code called [Child of Lightning]!" Scathach proclaimed. "Luxinna, you are practically born to use lightning! Backlash!? You are immune to it! Rebellious nature!? Lightning swoon for your affection. My dear girl! You can spam the most calamitous magical attacks known to man with zero hindrances--no other in Phantasia, but Zeus can do that. To make it more broken, your version of that cheat ranked even higher than him." The badger didn't stop there despite the goddess's, and the elf's, shocked expression toward her passion. Instead, she continued to display her gratitude toward heaven. "Then we arrive at your race! Elves already have high DEX and MAG stats. When combines those traits with lightning-based reflex-augmentation, calling you the second coming of Zeus is not an exaggeration. Hell, maybe you might be even stronger than him." The goddess nearly dropped her tablet. "Wait? How could she be-" The goddess said, then she remembered the goal of this session. "Oh! The Mana Core!" With Rem discovering the secret of the Mana a week ago, Cytortia and Scathach managed to derive a unique model of an Awakening Circle for interacting with the core. Rem's case studies suggested that Mana Core was the crystallization of the subconscious created by Mana as a container for latent abilities. Having access to that power gave Rem gained the power to beat a member of a magically superior race like Luxinna and survived a battle with the Paracis with only one week of training. Such incredible feats pushed Scathach and Cytortia to gleefully developed the concept of Secondary Awakening. If the first awakening, now termed as Primary Awakening, functioned as a method to awakened one Mana. The process Luxinna ran through right now, the Secondary Awakening, was meant to access the Mana Core's original potential. "So what it's like?" Luxinna asked Cytortia as the blue spark surged around her. Cytortia fiddled uncomfortably. Sweat trickled down her cheek. Luxinna suddenly had a bad feeling about this. Scathach, seeing the goddess being back to the psychological corner, decided to speed in and intercept the incoming truck. "She tried, but it didn't work so well," Scathach said. "The best guess we have is that our general approach to Spell-casting inhibits ease of Secondary Awakening. Rem said that Mana acted like sunlight to grow magic, given that modern Spell-casting burnt Mana to fuel the spell..." "The more you use Spell-casting, the harder the Secondary Awakening will be," Cytortia completed Scathach's sentence. "We didn't confirm this, but it would explain why I have such a difficult time assessing Mana Core." Scathach nodded and replied to Luxinna in a thankful tone. "This means that you have the advantage over your entire clan because they never teach you Spell-casting. Your Mana is like Rem--completely and utterly untouched. He is a pure human and looked at what he accomplished in a week. Imagine how strong you would be after the same process." The electricity beneath the sigil hit the crescendo and entered the elf. Luxinna felt like her mind shut off for a second. As her consciousness faded, she considered yelling at the duo about being used as a guinea pig. Alas, her infamous luck refused to hand her that opportunity. ... A moment later, Luxinna woke up. Golden vine weaved the sky above her. The sound of the waterfall played a familiar melody into her ears as she laid on the smooth and glassy ground. She managed to get up, albeit which much struggled. The elf soon found herself in the middle of a cavern--an exotic one to boot. Glowing vines embroidered sparingly on the wall of semi-transparent golden glass. At the center of the room stood a pillar of flowing liquid, illuminating the room with golden light. Luxinna walked over to the waterfall of shinning fluids. Against her better judgment, she reached out her hand to feel its brilliance. Suddenly, a current of golden water shot out of the waterfall and latched onto her arm. She jerked away, frightened by the soft electric sensation on her arm, and started to curse furiously. Lixinna violently shook her arms. Desperate to get the liquid off. The gooey substance didn't come off. Instead, it unleashed a bright explosion of lightning bolts and erupted into a hysterical flickering.  Sparks from the explosion arced across the room like a firestorm. Electricity webbed the circular cavern. The vines on the wall flickered dangerously in frustration. Luxinna eventually calmed down after the fit and inspected the goo on her arms. It was a semi-transparent gel, coated with a film- Wait, was that electricity? Luxinna recalled what Scathach said about lightning. It was wild and destructive. The episode she experienced a second ago was a live demonstration of that. Yet, the gel on her arm didn't look like a wild animal. It was more like a child wanting her attention. Suddenly, a thought hit her. Why did she try to shake it off anyway? This slime wasn't doing anything to her. It was inside her own Mana Core--a crystallization of her power for heaven's sake. This ooze was a part of her, rejecting it didn't do anything. Introspectively, Luxinna recalled something Rem spoke before he went into a deep meditation; her world-view built this place. The elf stayed silent as realization dawned on her. After her power woke, everyone aside from her grandfather and Eva avoided her like plagues. She understood them now. They were afraid of what they do not understand. But they weren't the only ones. She also grew to fear of herself and resented her power for her society's sin. If True Magic had feelings, would it be angry? Angry at everyone who hated it for existing? Angry the master who resented it? Of course, it lashed out. Her True Magic had as much abandonment complex as she did. She took a deep breath. It was a time to prove she became a better person. "I'm sorry," Luxinna nursed the slime on her arm, trying to see the golden jelly as an extension of herself. "I should have been thankful you existed. Instead, I believed my father that you are evil. I was wrong. You deserve much better than this." The slimy liquid glowed softly. Luxinna grimaced. Her True Magic was sulking. "I promise to be better, okay, but I want to know more about you. Can you show me?" The golden sludge contemplated for a second. Finally, it leaped off her arms, bounced itself toward the pillar of liquid, and jiggled--gesturing her to follow it into the golden waterfall. Luxinna got up, gathered her courage, and dipped both hands into the flow of the falling fluid. The smooth molten gel crept up her skin and homogenized into glasses with crackles of thunder. She pulled her hands out to see them coated in gloves of golden glasses. "Now, what can this do," Luxinna curiously drew on her power. With her mere thought, the vine started conducting the massive energy reserved that was her True Magic. With the power belonging to her alone, Luxinna threw a punch. The torrent of force and lightning emitted from her fist with a momentum of dynamite. The elf witnessed the raw force of her attack. Her jaw hung open as she recalled the declaration she made with her sister. "Wow," the bewildered elf looked at the augmentation on her arms. "This is a dream come true, isn't it? Just how piss-off Father will be when I beat a dragon with this?"' She smirked and looked back at the waterfall. "You are amazing," Luxinna said. "What else can you do? Come on! Show me something that will make Father cry himself a river! You can do it, Right?!" The liquid forming the pillar exploded. Each blob suspended in the air and weaved itself into an intricated pattern. Branches of glasses stretched into limbs, bending into lotus-shaped sculpture.  Over hundreds of them floated on the skies like a swarm of bees. Together, those pristine of lightning glass created a collection of majestic masterworks. They were an army of art. Each was worthy of the best glassmaker. All these turrets waited for her permission to fire. Luxinna grinned like a kid in an ice-cream store. She finally got how it worked now. Her magic started as a malleable blob. Its fluid property allowed it to be bent and shaped into multiple forms. Once it formed a shape, it would crystallize into a lightning emitter ready to fire devastating blast at will. Now she badly wanted to see how effective these leaves were. "3, 2, 1," she counted down gleefully. "Fire!" She was not disappointed. ... At the same moment, in Rem's mind, a similar process was raging. Rem summoned a ball of rainbow light that dissipated into the petal of red poppies. 'Not exactly a welcoming sign,' Central said. 'Your technique lack emissivity.' "So I can't shoot it," Rem sighed. "Limited range will be a problem. What can my True Magic do?" 'Your True Magic? It has no definable properties aside from being an aspect of [Arrival of Dream].' Things weren't looking good. His life-span was on a count-down. There was no method he could use to stop the Center-force from eventually taking over his body. The most logical option he had was to find some way to slow it down--an alternative method technique aside from [Arrival of Dream]. Moreover, he needed every ace he could get his hand on to save the world. Rem facepalmed. Things would get ways harder. For the past few days, Rem researched what was happening to Earth, and it was a disaster. North Korea ate the bullet as an invading force from one of Phantasia's faction, namely the Demonic Continent, took down the country. Sure, he might hate them, but the POW on civilian end was outrageous even for him. It was sure as hell didn't help when that army of demon managed to launch the invasion that bit off at least 60% of South Korea. Myanmar, who tried to stay neutral to Phantasia's advance, paid the price when they refused to meet the ambassador from one of the factions; the Emma Enterprise. A joint assault between the Demonic Continent's battle-force and Emma Enterprise's infantries took out Myanmar out, along Taiwan and a chunk of China. "Central," Rem managed to say. "You might not know this, but we are in trouble, asap. That legislation the UN signed with the Olympian won't protect Earth forever. Sooner or later, Emma Enterprises and Demonic Continent will get smart and gut Earth from the inside. And we are only talking about two factions. If we start counting in the others, Earth was pretty much doom. I need to get my True Magic sort out and get there in time to prevent the Armageddon." 'You are paranoid,' Cental huffed. 'Terra United Legislation forbids the Seven Continental Alliance and the gods from directly intervening with Earth's politic.' Rem gave a dry laugh. The Terra United Legislation was created in an emergency meeting and sign by the Olympians and the UN. The legislation's first clause enforced discount in trading of resources between the Olympus's vessel and UN. The second request that the UN joined the Olympians and their allies as junior members. The third section stressed that the right and safety of all citizens and parties must be recognized. "You knew that the middle east and part of Africa already got owned by Emma when they refused to join the UN, right?" Rem said to Central. "The Demonic Continent isn't the Seven Continental Alliance, and from my research, Emma Enterprises isn't one either." Rem stood up and revealed the gravity of the situation. "So here is the situation: everyone will act like they are friends, but they aren't. Emma Enterprise and the Demonic Continent won't bite that legislation. And we are assuming that the Alliance won't backstab us at first opportunity. Remember that we are talking about seven organizations here. Seven factions joined into an alliance with their agenda. If you want to know how bad they could be, just take a look at the member: Lightwell. Look at Lucian Drakokia's character? Do you expect him to do the right thing? Hell no. I don't even think he has a moral in the first place." Rem huffed up. "The deal wouldn't last, Central. Without a symbol, with no examples to strive up too, each human is out for themselves," Rem tried to summon his power. "Every faction in Phantasia is out to get each other, swallow every last benefit, and keep it until the World Enemy eventually overwhelms us. That fact is inevitable, but I will reverse that sucky destiny even if I die doing so." Suddenly, both of them heard a footstep. "Interesting," said a deep and gentlemanly sound. "Isn't wiping them out much easier? You just have to walk into the meeting room and open fire at every evil asshole. A couple of massacres will be enough to get them in line. Maybe we might even need to put their children in the front line as an encouragement." Central and Rem looked at the figure walking across the field of poppies. "So the loser has returned," Rem's eyes turned five degrees colder. "I assume you want round 2."

A figure fell from Melody’s fireball. It was Orwell shielded by a purple bubble of Amalgam barrier. Unparalleled buffer from Venistalis's Leyline allowed Orwell to tank Melody [Asura Sky] with his all-purpose barrier. Sadly, the attack vaporized the Amalgam bird he rode into the battle and destroyed all Amalgam beside him, causing his freefall. Orwell thumped onto the ground. His shield absorbed the iAmpact, but contributed nothing to improve his mood. He stared at the sky. If not for his authority over Venistalis’s Mana, that fire-bomb would kill him. His exceptional knowledge allowed him to detect that fire was ridiculous, even for dragon’s fire. The girl launched it must be on Shyme’s level in Phantasia’s totem-pole. Orwell stood. Even among A-rank, Shyme Enma was a high-tier in combat strength. Orwell Mehest smirked. Grand Empire forcibly enlisted people with such power to maintain control. Aside from the royal-mages, royal-knights and the garrison forces, every fighter able to stop him already left with the generals accompanying the Emperor’s border visit. It was the reason he picked this window for his ultimate mission. With all its fighting forces concentrated elsewhere, he won’t get a better opportunity to turn Grand Empire’s own oppressive military policy against them. Then unfortunate coincidence lined in the worse pattern imaginable. Within timescale of a blink, he went from prestige guest to Lady Fortune’s punching bag. Before Orwell finished contemplating the strange development of life, an iron object he recognized as the Isle of Knowledge’s standard issue demolition shell arced into his face. Orwell recalled the only successful bribery queen of Venistalis who carved a warpath to win licenses to store and handle those illegal weapons. “Fuck you, Shyme.” Orwell exploded again. …  “Lancaster!” Shyme yelled, recalculating the artillery trajectory by using a state-of-art scrying spell and her mathematical genius. “Give me a high-payload barrier piercing round. High-explosive won’t stun him for long.” “Yes, Lady Shyme,” Lancaster loaded another shell into a newly assembled custom-made mortar. It was MALEFACE-5 custom. An Isle of Knowledge's deluxe high-accuracy bombardment device meant for assassination via control destruction. Shyme’s special order version was outfitted with multiple-shell-compatibility and scrying spell addition. It was a perfect assassination tool that should be illegal in Grand Empire’s major city. But that was Enma clan’s perk — boatload weight gold to buy legal loopholes in all but single organisation in Phantasia (*cough* Horizon Dawn *cough*). The licensing, contract and cost of the mortar were approximately 220 million credits. Shyme was Ms. Cash-cow, but negative cashflow of such eye-bulging magnitude landed a solid dent in her wallet, but high-scale incendiary was Ms. Enma’s hobbies. The fox-girl favored high-octane fire spells for a reason. “Mistress,” Charon Sol (aka brainwash Chuang Tianshang) lifted her welding goggle. “My special automaton shell is ready.” “Good!” Shyme roared. “Load it in!” … Orwell laid flat on his back, ungrateful for his fire bath. Not that the shell hurt him. Orwell’s shield was jacked to Venistalis’s Leynode. Brute-forcing through such thick stack of defense was impossible, even if Shyme threw her entire fortune at him. No. The actual annoyance from Shyme’s shelling was the fire clouding his vision. The mastermind rested his palm and cast a powerful blanket of froze. Orwell limitless Mana fed the icy territory, expanding it past a 200 meters radius at an alarming rate to control the earth for a coming sky blitz. Then a tiny orange sphere appeared by the corner of Orwell’s gaze. He blinked. Wait. The symbols inside the geometric phenomenon resembled Jordan’s subordinate’s. “Oh F—” [Surtr: Burn the Witch] A sun of enchantment destroying flames blazed on top of Orwell, stopping the frost in its track. … Hikma stared at his handiwork and started analysing. Combat was new to him, but recent hours of fighting undead armies did miracles for his learning speed. Hikma relieved the experience with his [Memoria Revision]. His [Deep Meditation] kicked in. Orwell’s specialty was Ice and Amalgam-base familiar. Rem labeled him invincible because of the unlimited amount of Mana, Amalgams available to him in battle and his control over Venistalis’s Leynode. Hikma grimaced. He had an inkling that Orwell would one-shot even Melody in her dragon forms with a correct attack given the vast Mana boosting him. From the previous trades, it was a safe assumption that his shield won’t break in probing contest. Too little information was available. They needed more data. Hikma never expected [Burn the Witch] to kill Orwell, but it would tip more of Orwell Mehest’s enigmatic arsenal for them to pick apart. Spots of blue light pierce through the stationary fireball and popped it like a balloon. Orwell Mehest emerged from the fire — unharm aside from a crack violet barrier. A pale-blue ring encircled Orwell and sent strands of rays curving to the sky like a thread of wires. Spec of mist resembling a glitter of fairies accompanied those streams in an artful display. [Deathless Amalgam: Cold Circuit] Hikma and Melody dove in an opposite direction to evade Orwell’s attacks. The two Horizon Dawn’s knight and strands of Ice spells danced across the sky. Several stands went after Luxinna but her enchanted [Guard Flora] held out against the barrage aside from a minor frost forming at the Lotus’s surface. The elf took aim and opened fire with her [Assault Flora]. Colorful eruptions of mastery and techniques lighted the sky with gold and pale blue shine. Hikma stopped playing around mid-dive and block the cold rays with [Aegis]. The frost climbed up the [Holy Armor], dropping its temperature to a dangerous low. Cracks expanded from the [Construct]. Hikma played the most efficient card, tossing his shield to intercept the rest of Orwell and let the [Holy Armor] broke to a million pieces. Unlike the Arcane, [Conceptual Seal] and thus it [Conceptual Construct] was indestructible, allowing Hikma to summon the [Aegis] back with a thought and reengaged his defense. Melody didn’t bother to stop the attack. She paused mid-air and rushed into the array of freeze beam. “Is she crazy?” Orwell questioned as the myriad of beam struck Melody’s draconic forms. Frost crept through Melody, but it failed to stop her descent down on Orwell. “What?” Orwell’s eyes bulge. Those ice rays were combinations of freezing embrittlement and shattering spells Amalgam. It could flash freeze and crushed almost every substance using temperatures of -260ºC. It even liquified air. Forget imitations, no known species of dragon in Phantasia survived a direct hit from [Circuit]. Melody absorbed the freezing beam like it weighed nothing. Her skin and scales received no detrimental effect as her body heat melted through the frost. The demoness slammed her fist—armored with cosmic-tinged scale—into Orwell Mehest's shield with her full momentum. The attack landed with forces of a plane crash, sending a supernatural pressure rippling like hurricanes. “What a battle?” The bushy beard noble Uther nearly got sent flying. “Even Balperia Generation Cup cannot rival this intensity!’ “Help me!” One noble’s woman nearly rode the pressure to heaven before a generous man catch her. Luxinna’s fan-club noted the most important facts. “She got him,” one nobles girl yelled, noticing the spiderweb crack snaking through Orwell’s shimmering barrier. “How?” Andries yelled as she recovered from the hurricane gale. “That shield survived that explosion and magical mortar. A punch shouldn’t break it!” “Who cares!” Eliza the simpleminded cheered. “Onee-sama is awesome!” … “How?” Orwell glared at the spider-crack emerging in his impenetrable defense. “How do I survive your freeze ray?” Melody droned, concentrating on reprogramming Orwell’s barrier with [Anima Enchanting]. “Or how I am whacking apart your almighty armor? Which question is in your mind? Nah, I will answer both.” Melody talked as the spiderweb grew. “Your can liquify air, but unlucky for you, my current form can survive in deep space with the temperature of 2 Kelvin. That is 2 Celsius above Absolute Zero. Your freeze ray is still far from matching that temperature. I am not only fireproof but also immune to Physic’s lowest temperature. No ice mage in Phantasia can freeze me, caprice.” Melody parted the crack further. “Your shield is an Amalgam like all your special tricks. Familiars are annoying — especially homemade versions with an infinite selection of abilities and immunity to physical and magical attack. It must be a cakewalk for you to roll over Shyme Enma and Stuart Hex who use conventional technique given how unknown your pets are. Sad to inform you, we are not conventional mage. I already confirm your Amalgam are living-artifact made of mod soul. Chronicler’s previous fireball cemented it. That flames burnt enchantment — a fundamental component in all artifacts.” Melody continued to stare into Orwell’s face and showed him a black microphone. “Your luck runs dry, buddy. We are not Shyme Enma who arrogantly believes a [Divine Core] and row of spells will beat you. We are information gatherer, you dimwit. My teammate already received my deduction — the cat is out of the bag, buddy. Invincible or not, you won’t walk straight from this battle.” If Orwell was honest, Melody’s words scared him. He stopped dragging the banter right then. [Ice Create: Glacial] Melody braced herself for a counter-attack, but its sheer scale blown her mind. An ice creation spell — backed by the entire Mana supply of Venistalis — emerged from Orwell’s left foot and grew, eclipsing Melody in a glacier and pushing her off him. The [Glacial] grew at astonishing speed, forming a 10 by 10 meters wall of ice, carrying Melody away by 150-meters. Ice-creation spells were especially difficult due to necessary to summon water and froze it. Arcane user like Hikma had life easy because they influenced realities to create the phenomenon. Meanwhile, technique and spells mechanically synthesize the result. Orwell managed enough power to create 7500 meter-cube of ice weighting roughly 7000 tons in less than a second. A quick math revealed freezing that amount of water would take approximate energy worth 550 tons of TNT, counting in the summon cost doubles the value into a solid kiloton. “He release a double amount of [Burning Asura Sky] in a second?” Melody’s flames swirled in a futile effort to the demoness’s disbelief. “What the fuck! His home advantage must have limits.” Orwell’s ice glacial swallowed Melody whole. It plowed through the streets, kicking dust and thin vapor mist, clouding the fatigued Orwell in a melancholic haze. The creation imprisoned Melody from their battle. The ice would stay — even Dragon spewing sun-fire took time to escape 7000 tons of solid ice-coffin. The crowd gazed at the towering mass of frozen water. “I take it back,” Lord Uther whispered. “That move will win Balperia Generation Cup a million times over. H-How can we beat him without an S-ranker?” “This is a nightmare,” Chamomile’s mental-capacity parachuted from reality. “Onee-sama,” Eliza the victim worried. “Will Empress-sama be—” Eliza’s sentence died in her mouth. The flowers around Ace were fracturing. The elf’s sword glowed with ominous golden light. “Girls,” Luxinna instructed the crowd. “Hang tight! I am field-testing an anti-army attack.” … Orwell wheezed. He possessed unlimited Mana to fuel him, but there was a cap to his output. Mehest surveyed the area with suspicion. Jordan must observe this battle from somewhere. The longer his subordinate dragged this fight, the more Orwell’s vulnerability increased. He cursed himself for not working out the game they played. Then he realized the crack on his barrier wasn’t sealing. No, it was getting worse. Orwell checked the enchantment and double-taked. It was a mess. The crime scene resembled a burglar ramming semi-truck into his sophisticate creation, milk-shaking the furnitures, jumbled every article of clothing and set the room on fire as insurance. It was an overkill. The demoness must be the culprit. But when--. The possibility hit Orwell. Maybe Melody Solarmaria wasn’t monologuing for sake of uber hamminess. Orwell cursed. He hated competent opponent. The demoness duped him. Orwell shove important question of how Melody skeleton-keyed herself into his software for another day to focus on the urgent crisis — information leakage prevention. His solution: use his Amalgam to fly into the sky and bombarded the entire area with multi-ton ice boulder, killing everyone with the ability they knew but were powerless to stop. Orwell moved, but he couldn’t lift his feet. He glanced down with dread and saw a growing layer of ice covering his foot. “The fuck,” he asked himself how the attack reached him. His eyes answered by registering the 150m long ice glacial stretching from his foot. One helmet-man knelt on the cold ice, reciting silent prayers of salvation and hope. Orwell growled. The helmet-mage must have camouflaged himself to land on his glacial creation under radar, then trapped him with ice. Holy, Fire and Ice; Orwell groaned. Someone got all the gifts. That moment a light broke the darkness. The illumination so wondrous and bright Orwell shielded his eyes from its brilliance. An elf stood on the high-ground. Swirls of golden vapors danced around her like wall of storm. Thier friction sparked brightness, searing Orwell’s retinas as dances of light converged on the elf’s golden sword. Orwell blinked. He believed he saw a vision of his dead parent telling him to flee. His hippocampus flagged a warning. Invincible or not, the elf’s attack would pulp him. Thanks to that meddling mage, he won’t escape in time. Imaginary scenarios failed Orwell like falling confetti, leaving him with one option: defend against the swirling mass of golden light with every asset collected inside his bank-vault of tricks. Orwell mentally called his Amalgam. Not good. The elf fell them in droves, when the dragon-girl and the mage occupied his attention. Orwell mentally booted himself for underestimating his opponent’s teamwork. He got one option left. “[Summon-]” Orwell began casting a summoning spell, but fate hated his gut for extra size today. Clunk! Clunk! Clunk! Clunk! Four cylindrical metal canisters impaled the surrounding ground. From it, a bulb flipped to view, shinning purple color light at Orwell. The purple light registered into his brain and induced a state of psychological disorientation, canceling out his spell and bring the invincible Orwell Mehest to his knee. “Magus Sin Crystal?” Orwell glowed. Many considered those magical gems supreme anti-mage weapon worth several millions. The culprit must be Shyme Enma’s fucking mortar. Biggest question was who the fuck remodeled automate drones fitted with Magus Sin Crystal from scrap-metal and mortar-shell in a window of minutes. Orwell estimated a genius-level intellect of mechanical engineering behind the design. But who? Chuang Tianshang came to his mind. Impossible. That entitled bitch left Venistalis a month ago. Orwell foresaw no timeline where Shyme and Chuang buddied together for boy-talks and drinks. … “Achoo!” Charon Sol sneezed. “Great job, Charon!” Shyme cheered from her scrying sphere. “We got him!” It was the beginning of a beautiful master-servant relationship. … “[Jewel Sword: Salvation]” Luxinna swung [Historia]—condensed with massive molten storm of golden glass. That swing released the compressed storm of heat, electricity and golden dust born from the friction of [Static Glass] particles. It was the attack designed to reach Wayward’s [Blue Spear] and broke it in two. The molten plasma beam of [Static Glass] lighted a beacon, brightening all four quarters in a wave that rivaled Orwell’s prior [Glacial] in size and demolished it in intensity. Defenseless and trapped, Orwell stared at the wall of light and lightning that smashed his compromised shield to pieces of fundamental Mana and plowed into his body. Luxinna’s light didn’t stop. [Salvation] carried the burnt and electrocuted Orwell crossed the 4 kilometers wrecked stretch of Fire-quarter at the velocity of Mach 29 and fabulously entered the Water-quarter. For the first time since summoning the Dark Ones, doubt of his victory seeped into Orwell Mehest as he slammed into his own Spiritium tower.  Approximate kinetic energy release by Luxinna’s attack (not counting the heat-energy): 55 GJ or 13 kilotons of TNT. A reminder: the “Fatman” nuclear bomb is around 20 Kiloton.  

Luxinna got her wishes. The elf was warming up against the three opponents eyeing her with a mixture of suspicion and fear. The boy’s victories already came with a surprise, and they wouldn’t want a repeat. They already agreed on a plan: overwhelm her quickly before she pulled out explosives. However, Luxinna saw right through them. “Don’t mind me,” Luxinna said during her leg-stretching routine, “I am not as tricky as Rem in a fight. Mindtrick and eighty-seven plans to conquer the world aren’t my cups of cider. My way of doing this is simple. I am going to beat all of you at once.” The lion-man in the heavy plated armor put on a helmet; beside him, the assassin vanished in smoke. As for the duelist, who Luxinna guessed was half-raccoon, he flicked out the finely balanced rapier of in practice motion. All three didn’t let their eyes slid from the girl who drew her steel sword and settled it in an overhead two-handed stance. Luxinna breathed. “Three, two, one,” Shyme said. “Start.” And the battled began. … In the stadium above, Cytortia was scolding Rem. “How many times do you have to wreck your hand?” “Blame you BFF; Her men detonated that explosive.” “Oh no, you don’t,” Shyme said hurriedly. She knew how ballistic Cytortia could become when medical subjects got involve. “Don’t you dare drag me into this.” Waiter smiled with amusement. It wasn’t every day he got to see the hidden side of his mistress. It warmed his heart to see a bit of a girl he raised resurfaced from the harsh taskmaster her life shaped her to be. “May I about your battle-style, please?” Rem raised his eyebrows. Please? That was new. “You know what; I think I like you. So, in this once in a lifetime opportunity, I will not use sarcasm. What do you want to know, old man?” “I know for a fact that Scathach is your master, but the stance you and the elf used is different from hers. Scathach prefers fast offense and impenetrable defense. Your swordplay, on the other hand, is an unformat sequence of block and strike, leaning heavily on your positioning. And I got the feeling the girl uses something completely different. I have one question in my mind: why don’t you two use Scathach’s stance.” “Because we want to build something that belongs to us?” The question amused Waiter. “You rather foregoes receiving a perfected battle-style to create your own?” Shyme snorted. As an heir of Enma Enterprise, and a core member of the Enma clan, she received excellent training and education from childhood and trained in many unique and classical styles from several masters. Hence, she couldn’t grasp the boy’s word. Why tried to create a new path when something superior already existed? What the point of risking change for something that was already perfect?Shyme smirked. Her desire to get even with this enigmatic figure who never seemed to be wrong surged. “What an idiot,” Shyme declared. “You have a teacher anyone would die to call master. Instead of study what she can teach you, you would rather invent some half-baked style.” Rem smirked; gg. “What is learning? It is true people learn from accomplishment, but through painful mistakes, people gain wisdom. I don’t want to inherit Scathach’s success. I want to learn from her failure. I want her experience, earn from struggling up the hill of disappointment. The duty of a teacher isn’t hammering knowledge into a student. I can go to YouTube for those shit. A teacher must guide the student past their failure and allow them to grow as a person while imparting wisdom they inherit from our predecessors.” “That is bull-“ “Incredible,” Waiter said as the fight progress. “She is winning. I have never such a form before.” Shyme looked out into a window and witnessed the style she never heard off. … The knight questioned how did things end up like this as his blow veered in the wrong direction. They attack together, but the elf never stood still. She stayed out of reach, deflecting their attacks, and feeding those momenta into her counterattack. It was like fighting a perpetually moving windmill of death. She even managed to intercept an invisible knife from the assassin. Although flawed and clumsy in some place, the artistry which the young girl cycled her swordplay was undeniably dazzling. His opponent was dancing with her sword, and he crawled on the dance floor. A high-power overhead slash came; he blocked it, but the girl swirled her sword into a cut aiming right at his arm. Her posture didn’t miss a beat, twisting away from his teammate’s thrust, while powering the attack with the moment. The knight decided to cut his losses and fall back, but the motion machine did not stop. That metal sword sang the song of rapid, carving the throwing knives out of the air as it started battering his defense. The lion-man gasped. The girl shifted from defense to offense in a second like she was changing the note on the clarinet. Luxinna spun and twirled, carving her way through rapier and sword. The only thing giving the three men a window to press thier opportunity was the unrefined footwork of the girl. It was clear to all that without such flaws she would be unbeatable. Clash! The lion-man cursed; he was so distracted his block slipped. The thrust from the girl sent him sprawling, but luckily, his teammate intervened before the elf could finish him. He gritted his teeth; that overhead knife throw barely slowed her down. Even blade-lock with the half-raccoon only halted her for a second before the elf weaved out. She even unbalanced the opposition with a knee-kick as a bonus. Then Luxinna gasped for breath. The lion-man felt a spark of hope. Good, they were wearing her down. … “What an unbelievable performance in a 3-v-1!” Lancaster Waiter exclaimed. “What style is this?” “The 3rd Ray of Dawn: The Way of Raging Rapid,” Cytortia said. Waiter and Shyme looked at her. “What?” “It is a weird project this dolt started,” Cytortia pointed at the nonchalant Rem. “He invented several concepts for a battle-style and dragged Scathach to help make it practical. Luxinna also pitched in after having her ass handed to her by one of said invention.” “You invented an advance battle-form?” Waiter said. "But how?" Shyme yelled. "Most schools need inheritance worth centuries to reach that level." “Oh please,” Rem said. “I saw those inheritances. You guys went the wrong way. Which battle-style teach you to spill Mana in a flashy weapon-waving and give it a cool name? Your so-called pinnacle relies on superpower over philosophy. While it takes hundreds of centuries to invent a way to use a spell with by twirling Mana-infused sword, designing a battle-style is much faster and more effective.” Rem continued to explain as Luxinna dueled the three men to a standstill. The elf was breathing hard. It was clear that stamina preservation was the only thing stopping her from finishing the fight. “Instead of working out how to wave Mana with a spear, I asked Scathach to help mesh my philosophy with practicality. The flashiness can be implemented later with the pre-existing wheel. Your schools didn't teach a fighting method, but a glorified magical super-move.” “What does that even mean?” Shyme said. Cytortia couldn’t help but answer the question. “Shyme, Way of Raging Rapid stresses outer-ring engagement. The style focus on adding powerful momentum. It uses recoil and the body-momentum to power attacks while maintaining the force through circular motion. The form aims to blitz the opponent into submission--not even allowing them to breathe. It also has a heavy emphasis on disruptive use of Arcane to…” “Cy,” Rem warned. “You are giving away too much.” Cytortia closed her mouth, but Shyme already get the gist of it. “So, the elf uses a momentum-heavy style, huh,” Shyme said. “But are you sure she can hold the fight to the end.” … Luxinna knew the weakness of her style very well. While the 3rd Ray could overwhelm any opponent, the constant emphasis on momentum meant it also the most exhausting method to fight. The high stamina cost ensures that the form would perform poorly in a long fight, especially against multiple opponents with good teamwork. Luxinna was also employing a lightning-type Arcane call [Spark Vision] to keep taps on the invisible assassin. Arcane's maintenance, combined with the massive stamina expenditure, was starting to dull her advantage. Luxinna batted away a sword and counterattacked. She missed, and with much cursing, somersaulted away from a low-cut from a bastard sword. The elf grimaced; she nearly screwed that landing. Aside from weighing heavily on her endurance, the 3rd Ray also required an incredible feat of coordination and agility to master. Luxinna groaned mentally. Dammit, if only she could unleash the fullest extent of her abilities--if only came swinging with [Static Glass]--the battle would already be over in five seconds. Instead, she needed to pace her attacks and slowed the battle to a crawl. “[Royal Dash]” “[Earth Crush]” Luxinna saw the two coming and decided to copy an archeologist. [Astral Trace: Combat Meditation] Astral Tracing allowed the practitioner to glimpse the historical record of the Multiverse. While it let its user replicated the miracles witnessed by the world as Arcane, it also had another application. Throughout history, multiple warriors fought and died to perfect their craft. A proficient Astral Tracer could witness those lessons the masters of old carved into antiquity. Some could even let the Astral Consciousness guide their action and funneled celestial wisdom into their craft. It was the art of Combat Meditation. Out of Horizon Dawn, Hikma was the best at the Meditation, but Luxinna wasn’t much behind him. Luxinna felt her mind sharpened as she surrendered to the will of the Astral Consciousness, and let that current of power guided her victory. Luxinna bent backward like she was playing a game of Limbo to dodge the rapier-blade. The longsword slammed down, but the elf already side-flipped away from the crater opens up by [Earth Crush] in the middle of the Arena. Sensing a tug in the Astral Consciousness, Luxinna chucked her blade at the potential danger. The steel sword collided with an invisible throwing knife before the spell could activate. Purple corroding smoke erupted, forcing the assassin to flee from the blast zone. Luxinna landed, armed with nothing but the knowledge of the Multiverse and the might of the Center Force. She reached deep within her spark of True Magic and used it to catalyze the web of the divine net. Throughout ages, this miracle operated in both light and dark. Villains used it as a torture device. Heroes used it slew hoard of monster. But both sides of the fence agreed on its traditional majesty. [Lightning Stream] The current of gold surged from Luxinna’s fingertip, striking both the knight and assassin. They screamed as the golden crackle ran around their body, lighting up the skeleton inside them. Luckily for him, the half-raccoon raised a sword coated in silver light in time to absorb the lightning. Luxinna raised her hand, lifting the screaming duo into the air with the mystical current and slammed them to the ground. A huge bastard sword fell, following it twitching owner downward with a clang. The duelist looked at his unconscious comrade and grimaced. The elf managed to evade all their attack and countered back in a window of the second. It appeared he was in more trouble than he realized. The duelist slammed his rapier to the ground, sending a wave of icicle running toward Luxinna. The elf met the attack with and another lighting stream. Noticing a slight movement in the Astral Consciousness, she reflexively threw out three throwing knives, taking out the flying birds construct that rained down in shards of ice. The duelist sized the split second of an opportunity to dash for the elf. Luxinna poised for the stab she knew was coming, spinning away from the attack, and using the momentum to power her round-house kick. The raccoon-man, through raw reflex, ducked beneath the attack, and attempt to take the elf’s leg out from beneath her. He hit nothing. The duelist stared as the elves flipped mid-kick, pirouetted mid-air, and rotated her foot down on his head like a battle-ax. His brian shook from the blow, but he was still conscious. Then he suddenly felt something wrapping around his hand. He shook his head in a daze and recovered enough to see a piano wire. [Heaven Python] It was the same Arcane Rem used in his battle, but [Static Glass] was much more potent than a run-the-mill stun gun. The discrepancy in the catalyst qualities translated right into the effect. Rem conjured a lightning snake that electrocuted people with a bite. Luxinna’s [Heaven Python] was a five-meter long monstrosity that swallowed the raccoon-man whole and spat him out a few seconds later in as barely alive charred, twitching body. “Oops,” Luxinna said. It was the first time she used the Arcane, and she might misjudge its power a little bit. … Shyme gritted her teeth and looked at the wincing Rem. “You can’t blame those three,” Rem said. “Everyone acts like a gangsta until Luxinna bust out force lightning. You should better call in medical staff. They will be emptying their stomach tomorrow morning.” Cytortia shivered. Yesterday was hell. Luxinna’s test session left both Rem and Melody puking the entire morning. Knowing her strength wasn’t Luxinna's positive qualities, and the last attack showed that pretty well. “Impressive,” Waiter looked at the apologetic elf. “Her combat ability is at the peak of B-rank. A little bit more, and she will be comparable to the 33 Stars.” “You are kidding yourself, Waiter,” Shyme huffed. “To be a 33 Stars, you must have the prestige to your name and a powerful sponsor. I will admit that the elf will likely be able to fight Magnolia Drakokia, but nothing she accomplishes will make up for the overwhelming support from Lightwell.” “You never know,” Rem grinned sinisterly. “Do you perhaps forget that I exist?” “No, but I can see that you are much weaker than the elf.” “True.” “So, you must know it is hopeless,” Shyme said. “Within this generation, only a fellow 33 Stars possess the ability and resource to rival one another. A random outsider like you never has a chance. No matter how strong you become, you won’t upset the generations of resources and techniques compiled into a person.” Rem smiled. “Want to bet?” The following statement proved the difference between the low and middle-tier of the 33 Stars. Shyme did not fall for her arrogance like a certain young elf. “No, thank you,” Shyme called out. “While I am certain to win, I am sure you will cheat the payment. Now, tell me which facilities you want to set up your base. I recommend somewhere in the Earth-quarter. It would be much easier for me to contact you there.” “Nah,” Rem said. “I have another plan.” Shyme knew right away that she would hate his plan.

Who knew Shyme had an underground Arena? Luxinna certainly didn’t. It even caught Rem by surprise for a second until the veneer of calmness rollover his brief window of vulnerability. As for the young goddess, she looked extremely uncomfortable. “Do we have to do this, Shyme?” Shyme looked back exasperatedly. “Cy, you got four enemies on the top half of the 33 Stars. You might be skating on anonymity now, but I can assure you that they will know you are visiting me. LinLey might send someone to kill you tomorrow for all I know. It is not that I don’t trust Scathach, but I need to see your security with my own eyes.” Rem did not give an iota of a fuck. “Good, so who are we fighting?” Shyme clapped, and six men and women appear. All of them were transparently beastmen. Rem took three seconds to measure their threat-level. Naïve. Their clothing gave them away. Three wore leather cloth and concealed weapon that yelled assassins. One slung a bow behind her back while wearing a medium-coverage breastplate. However, the sword hanging from her waist and lack of arm protection told the truth; she was an archer with at least C-grade swordsmanship. Next to the archer was a guy with a sword, but he wasn’t wearing any heavy armor. Rem marked him as a problem from a gut feeling. Finally, they got a knight in full armor and a giant claymore. “Three assassins, a knight, an archer playing swordsman, and a guy who is at least smart enough to be vague,” Rem said. “How troublesome.” “Hey!” the archer responded. “I can use the sword just fine.” “Lady, we can sort that out in the arena,” Rem said. “Anyone of you wants to introduce yourself. The stooges of six looked at each other and turned toward Shyme. “No,” Shyme answered. “Very well,” Rem said. “I will go first. Now, please sort yourself out. And Lux, please don’t give everything about us away. We are playing a slightly talented prodigy, not a freak of nature who can defy magical law, got it?” Shyme twitched at the blatant filtration of her existence. It almost tempted her to jump into the Arena and smacked Rem herself. Luxinna facepalmed, but still gave Rem a thumb-up. … Rem slipped his glove on and tapped the floor with the tip of his boot; steel. This material could pose a problem. Why couldn’t Shyme line the Arena with sand? Oh well, he would manage. At least, he got a brick wall for extra ammo. Rem did a mental checklist of his consumables: nine trick-knives, a trusty piano wire, twelve Japanese-inspired kunai, an air-filer, and a set of recovery-pills. As for the weapon, he got a short-sword in his sleeves, a stun-gun, a revolver, an ignition glove cobbled together by him and Melody. Rem needed to give it to the demoness, having her around essentially tripled their hardware gallery. Rem knew he would be up against a pro who could disarm him before he got a bullet off. With the tools available, it would be a challenge to take out three professional opponents in a fair match. Luckily, he planned. He already chose his first opponent. The beastwoman with goat-horns stepped through the opposing entrance with a bow and an arrow in hand. Rem smiled and fingered his gun with his right hand. “Boss, can I punch his smug face off now?” The archer shouted. And her boss answered. “Very well, the rule is simple. Whoever gives up first or get incapacitated loss!” Shyme said. “Any question?” “No,” the archer answered. Rem didn’t even bother replying. He unholstered his weapon with his right hand. “Three! Two! One!” Shyme yelled. “Start!” Rem lifted his revolver, but a flaming arrow arrive cut toward the weapon so fast he could barely react. The gun he was holding slip apart and landed on the ground in two molten pieces. … “Shit!” Cytortia yelled after seeing how fast Rem got disarmed. Shyme almost felt disappointed. The battle was the most anticlimactic she ever witnessed. She knew humans were weak, but a human her friend praised so much should put more of a fight. Usually, Shyme would be sneering to heaven, but this was Cytortia. She couldn’t bring herself to trash-talk about her only friend’s recruitment blunder. Among all the spectators, only one elf noticed the obvious. Rem still had his left hand be underneath his cloak. The only thing they saw was the gun in his right hand. “Oh, you cheating bastard,” Luxinna whispered. Rem threw out his left hand, unsheathing a flurry of trick knives the silver of the moment the archer fired. With [Knife Throwing], the blades flew straight at the archer. The beastwoman didn’t have a split second to celebrate. It was a perfect counter that caught the opponent when she was to focus on the attack. Most opponents would already get hit, but the archer wasn’t most opponent. She reacted to the counter brilliantly, raising a shield of fire that deflected away two of the knives. However, she made one fatal mistake. Rem didn’t toss two knives; he threw out five. The flames redirected the blades and reduced it into molten metals, but three landed around her feet before erupting into the cloud of smoke. Rem was already moving before the knives’ sheaths even landed. … The archer couldn’t see anything. Normally, she would cast a simple dispersion spell, but the smoke wasn’t that simple, breathing it in was turning her throat into an inferno. But she still held her ground and used a healing spell to keep herself standing. Then the boy appeared with a breath-filter in his mouth, flinging several throwing knives. She drew her sword and deflected the closest projectiles before twisting her stance into a counter-attack. Her bow would be less than useless at this range. The archer mentally admitted that she underestimated the human. His race might be weak, but he got the brain. It failed to dawn on the archer that her realization was an understatement. The throwing knives was a distraction. The real attack was a thin piano wire hooked to one of the kunai that was deliberately off target. Thankfully, Melody added a small clipped to the piano wire for easy utilization, or else Rem might get a slightly more awkward set-up.Rem tugged the wired in he practiced motion, dipping the knife downward, and wrapping the wire around his opponent neck with its leftover momentum. “Rope trick!” the archer laughed after in response. “Are you planning to strangle an armed beastmen? Do you think I am that frail? Our physical stats are above humans. I can deal with your puny wired before you come close to choking me.” Rem answered by shocking the wire with his stun-gun. While an electrical current from your average 450V stun gun would fare exceptionally badly against any resident of Phantasia D-rank and above, it was another story with someone who knew Arcane. Hikma De Darwin might be the best (and only) Arcane specialist in the world, but Rem wasn’t far behind him. The boy’s WIS was high enough to learn several Arcane, including some in the lightning categories. Rem might not be able to last semi-second against Luxinna in a lightning flinging competition, but he knew several gimmicks. Stun gun might not hurt the archer, but it wasn’t the end game. It was only an electrical catalyst, powered up by his conceptual strengthening power, to fuel an Arcane. [Heaven Python] The storm surged, and the wire became a serpent of lightning, bitting into the beastwomen with a voltage of an industrial-grade tesla coil. It took barely a second for the archer to fall onto the floor with steam drifting from her mouth. Rem tossed away his rebreather as the cloud dispersed and said a simple sentence. “You are right, but your intelligence stats speak for itself.” … “How did he do that?” Shyme asked what her men were thinking. “Impressive strategy,” Waiter commented, appearing out of nowhere. “He won before the battle even started.” “How?” “His weapon was a diversion. If our employees had attacked him directly, he would have to fight fairly. I believe the boy could not afford a fair fight, so he played the mindgame. He baited his opponent to commit a mistake and stacked up so much advantage on his favor that victory became mathematical.” “Yeah, Rem won’t win a fair fight against a superior opponent,” Luxinna said. “He always cheats.” “Let see if he can cheat this one,” Shyme nodded toward the man in black cloth. Rem might outsmart a warrior, but she doubted he could cheat trickster who killed people for a living. … Rem nodded as Waiter dragged the unconscious archer away. Behind him, a new figure entered. Great, it one of the four horsemen of budgeted Assassin Creed. “Impressive, man!” The assassin greeted him cheerily. “You know; I always hate her.” Rem nodded. He needed him to move a few more steps. “Thank you,” Rem replied, thrusting out his hand. “Mind a handshake?” “No, I won’t fall for that,” the man shrugged. Rem sighed, flicking out a short-sword hidden in his sleeve. “Alright, you got me,” Rem replied. “Geez, do you know how much Cytortia worked to create this spanking new paralytic? Shyme asked me to test it on you.” “I DID NOT!” Shyme yelled. “Wow,” the beastman sounded impressed. “I have never seen someone piss off the boss this much.” Rem bowed. “Pissing off people is my job description,” Rem took several steps backward with his left hand hidden out of sight. “May I continue.” The assassin huffed--he knew what was coming. The boy was putting a distance between them using this conversation as a distraction. He sucked at melee, so he tried to bank on a ranged battle. The assassin took a few steps forward. He won’t give the kid a chance. Rem frowned. “Shyme, do we have to start now?” It was then that Shyme was sure she got the bastard with his pant down. “Yes, ready!” Shyme yelled. The assassin procured a chained twin-dagger. Spell-formula lined within the chain activated, surrounding him in a metallic coil of darkness. His plan was simple; used his chain as a barrier to block Rem range-attack and applying his superior speed and a delayed shadow-clone spell he already pre-casted to overwhelm the boy. The kid wouldn’t see it coming. The real type of trickery was casting sure kill attack before entering the battlefield. It was what separated amateur from the pros. “BEGIN!” … "He is dead." Everyone from Shyme’s camp said in unison when then assassin moved. … Rem snapped his finger and performed one of the six Arcane in his knowhow. It was the one he practiced the most in the last three days. Although he didn’t maximize its power to a legendary-level, he did master two aspects of it: speed and accuracy. The ignition glove lighted a spark Rem strengthen ablaze with his True Magic. The whip of flames slid past the puzzled assassin, and his emerging clone, before striking at its target: the sheath of his trick knife. … "He is dead.” Luxinna and Cytortia said in unison once they saw where Rem attacked. Unlike traditional sheath, Horizon Dawn’s standard-issue trick knife wouldn’t arm until itself unless separated from the blade by design. The interior baffled its two creators for days due to the design specification. After all, it took a very sophisticated design to safely store, disarm, and weaponize the dangerous substance called Burning Sunshine. … BOOOOOOM! The sheath erupted and caused the chain-reaction that ignited the other four fully-armed explosives. The explosion of Cytortia most dangerous mishap was immense, and no amount of clone would block the fiery ball of roasting from the nether region. The assassin’s chain did nothing to stop the explosion going right beneath him. The conflagration of savage fire sent him into the sky in a flaming ball of cat-man. He tumbled in the air twice, slammed into a barrier shielding the spectator with enough force to break half his bones, and fell right into a kicked from Rem. The unfortunate assassin slammed into the brick wall in a broken pile of burns and defeat. Unfortunately, he held to enough consciousness to hear his opponent finishing blow. “The strong cheat with strength, while the weak cheat the game. Get down to my level, fucking normie.” … “What. The. Hell.” Shyme said in awe at the explosion. “That is Cytortia’s solution of doom called Burning Sunshine,” Luxinna explained. “Rem mindgamed your boy into walking inside the blast-zone and detonated an instakill attack right underneath his behind.” “When did he set it up!?” Shyme yelled before turning to her friend. “And, Cy, please don’t play with explosive.” “It a scientific experiment!” Waiter coughed. “I believe he already planned to do this from the very first knife attack on our archer,” Waiter noted. “I take my word back. The boy wasn’t a good tactician; he is simply evil.” Shyme breathed out her rage. “Sent the assassination leader!” … Rem watched his next opponent step to the bat--a part-snake assassin with scales and slit-eyes. “Yo,” Rem said. “Save your word,” the snake-woman's clothing come to life. Her cotton cloak lighted up with defensive spells. Her scarf elongated into a tendril as several enchantments came to life. “I won’t even talk to you.” “Ouch...” Shyme doesn’t even bother with formality. “SMASH HIM, MURIEL!” Muriel came whirling like a cyclone of death. Rem breathed and gave himself him into his training plus countless hours in Astral Trace.His short sword swung, deflecting two consecutive strikes from the tendril of clothing wrapped in a shearing wind. Conceptual strengthening clashed with spell woven into pieces of fabric. Utilizing his forms and his [Clairvoyance], Rem dodged, deflected, and blocked several attacks of winds, fire, and blades. But he couldn’t last long. Unlike Hikma’s defensive form, Rem’s style was all about zoning, the basic, and strategic response weaved into combat. The boy was simply to slow to match Muriel. The tendril of cloth cut him in the leg, and then the blast of fire sent him flying into the wall. Rem gasped as the snake-woman came in for a follow-up without even allowing him to breathe. As for his weapon, it already flew off to who-know-where. In a desperate gamble, Rem ripped off his cloak and flung it at her, Muriel cut through the fabric in a second, but it was enough for Rem to unsheathe his remaining knives. Muriel knew what was coming. She threw a fireball, shattering the knife in Rem’s hand, and readied herself for Rem to explode. But the boy smiled, she should have disarmed him instead of exploding Burning Sunshine in his face. His [Clairvoyance] already told him the future; the entire brawl led up to this moment. “[Burn the Witch]” The fire did roast his hand, but the Arcane’s activation saved the rest of his arm. [Burn the Witch] was a fire Arcane that burned every medium conducting supernatural phenomenons in the entire target area. Rem studied many texts with Hikma, but he picked this particular Arcane to meditate on because of his hatred for enchantment. There was nothing Rem hated more than a U/W in Magic the Gathering. The sacred flame containing the frustration of every Magic and Gathering who fell to the enchantment control deck surged, searing the entire area in flames. The flame didn’t hurt Muriel, but it went for her clothing. The Arcane’s flames licked the legging enhancing and turned them into ash. Her linen clothing wove with a protective spell did not do anything to stop the burning. Even the annoying scarf disappeared in the fire. The Arcane also went for her underwear with an auto-cleaning function. In a second, Muriel was naked in her birthday-suit against a boy with a massive shit-eating grin. “Wait!” The snake-woman tried to cover herself embarrassingly. Her face turned tomato from raw humiliation. “Let me get something to wear!” Rem booted her in the face. “Sorry, as a true believer in true feminism. I punch every gender, clothed or naked, equally. Plus, I prefer a 2D angel over thot.” … Upon the spectator seat, everyone turned silent. “Scum,” Shyme said. “Trash,” said the remaining assassin. “Brute,” said Waiter. “Monster,” said the knight. “Just which century does this bastard come from!?” said the duelist with a hint of admiration. “Great!” Luxinna said while Cytortia buried her face in her palm. “Can I take all three of you at once. I need to one-up Rem, or else I will never live this down.”

Chuang Tianshang woke, facing a familiar man in a mask. Shoe found herself tied to the chair, clasped with several Mana suppressor and high-grade shackle likely loaned from a disgruntled badger. “Hal Jordan.” “Sorry,” Rem replied. “But today I go by Jay Garrick.” Chuang snorted. “Just how many fake names do you have?” “Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Bruce Wayne, John Jones, Scott Summers, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Wally West, Damian Al Ghul, Tim Drake, Nathan Summers, Arthur Curry, and—I hate this one the most—James Howlett,” Rem lifted his eyebrows. “Trust me. I won’t run out of made up names soon.” Chuang stared at the weirdo. “Why Cytortia?” Rem looked at Chuang, pulled a bad crisped from his paper bag and began munching. After several minutes of crunching noises — together with Chuang’s patience — lost to the wind, Rem emptied every bit of crisp, went to his bag and get another pack. Chuang snapped. “Answer my bloody question!?” She screeched. “Why on Earth did you pick her!? WHY?” Rem opened the packet. “Sour-cream,” Rem rejoiced longingly. “My favorite flavors right from home. My hero’s perfection is him hanging out with his pa. Me? It is me peacefully eating these chips in a free and happy world. Want some?” Chuang wanted to bite this jesting bastard. “Answer the question! Dammit!” “I already answer the question,” Rem said. “You just don’t understand it.” Chuang bit her lip. Again? Cytortia said she wouldn’t understand. This guy said she wouldn’t understand. What high and mighty mystery was beyond her understanding? Chuang glared at Rem, her teeth clenched so hard she could sense them breaking. “Then help me understand, oh almighty [Clairvoyance],” Chuang mocked him. “What is so special about the girl who can’t fight, that make you guys flock to her.” “Simple. She is not you.” Chuang tried to bite off Rem’s nose with a leap, but a potato chip nailed her in the eye. “Down girl,” Rem calmly brushed the chip dust from his hand. “I already said my idea of perfection is eating this potato chip in a world where everyone is free. But if you—or anyone else in the 33 Crap-sacks—put your ass on that throne, happiness will be the furthest place from where I get to enjoy this chip. And I can’t have that.” Chuang stopped in her track. “You want the Cytortia in charge because you want peace.” Rem shrugged. “I can give you that,” Chuang promised. “Every 33 Stars want to end these conflicts. We are fighting for peace.” “That is true,” Rem admitted. “You are fighting for a new world order under your command—a stable world order. Sadly, stability does not equate to freedom. I want the world where everyone is happy and free, not the one where people who disagreed with me and my great overlord end up in gulags.” It was that explanation that finally convinced Chuang she didn’t understand the entity in front of her. “You want your detractor to be happy?” Chuang said. “You want to give them a chance? Are you sure Velnia is not possessing you?” “Velnia’s version of the world build itself on naivety,” Rem felt tired at the mere mention of the Starland’s princess. “The girl refuse to acknowledge life innate evil. You can’t stop people from being a jerk. Refusal to stand up against blatant evil because it act nice to you is another kind of evil. I know people will disagree with me. I understand some will hate me. Even then I value their life as a fellow man. I want to wake up in the morning knowing people realize someone still cares.” Chuang’s brain broke as she tried to comprehend Remus Breaker, the Alien from Planet Earth. Superman’s heat-vision melted the Heavenly Daughter of Fire without ever being real. “I can’t understand you.” “Told you so,” Rem said. “Your ultimate weakness is the fact your absolute power distance you from the rest of humanity. The all-powerful jerks duking it out in the sky without realizing that your shit is raining down below to the people who can’t defend themselves. And you ask me why people flock to Cytortia? Cy is a caring girl first and goddess second. She has zero ambition to rule, which is good because I don’t want to rule.” “For someone who glimpses into the future, that ambition is downright pathetic.” Rem smiled. “Many men see what I become when I aim to achieve something. All of them regret it,” Rem said. “Now please tell me about the future.” Chuang paused. “What are you talking about?” Rem made a tutting sound. “You are not even hiding it,” Rem replied. “Many things make little sense during our fight. You noticed who Melody is. You foresaw hat she can become, and it rightfully terrify you. The real telltale is Luxinna. You directly call her the Monster of Lightwell.” Rem stretched. “Cytortia also said you know about the World Enemy invasion and somehow convinced that she would join Alchemical Society. Popular guess is you have [Clairvoyance], but you don’t. If you do, you would aim for Hikma the entire fight. I run the simulation 25 times with different inputs and the only way you survive the fight after losing your ring is taking out Hikma before making a full retreat. Melody cannot catch you with her poor mobility. My predictions show that you have a 44% chance of making it out of the forest safely with only Luxinna on the trail and me on the sniper.” Rem noticed how Chuang stared at him. “What?” “What are you talking about?” Chuang looked at Rem like he arrived from space. “[Clairvoyance], duh.” Rem replied. At that moment, Chuang realized the ocean of depth hidden beneath the man before her. “Do you know how [Clairvoyance] work?” Chuang’s lip quivered uncomfortably as Remus Breaker took a crow-bar to her common sense. “The skill allows a person to peer through the thread of fate and calculate the future.” “Boring.” “Boring?” Chuang raged. “Every god and living-thing have unchangeable fate. All destinies are unmovable, and [Clairvoyance] acted like a compass that navigate the water. It delivers the right decision to navigate to a proper destiny.” Rem huffed. “Bullshit,” Rem called. “No mysterious power is carving destiny on a tablet of unbreakable diamond. It is all probability. [Clairvoyance] is not future predicting ability. It is the modelling device designed to predict an outcome base on data accessible from Consciousness of the Multiverse.” Chuang blinked. “What?” “Well, telling you won’t matter much,” Rem sadistically explained. “Plus, I love to see that pretty face scrunch up in agony, it isn’t every day I get to talk down on gods.” Rem pulled out a map. “[Clairvoyance] forecast the future using available data in real-time. But because it is in real-time, it is vulnerable to the butterfly effect. Enough tipping from that domino and even destiny will eat bullets. Let us say I try to read the future of an apple, [Clairvoyance] will malfunction because it perceive whatever the outcome, I will do something different to defy its prediction. It is impossible to predict the apple future, because a variable—me—exist to defy it.” Chuang listened to that lecture, eyes widened. “Impossible!” Chuang refused to accept that theory. “The Holy Church ascend to power with the Pope’s [Clairvoyance]! If subverting [Clairvoyance] is that easy, how can they hold their power. Thalia Holyworth is the No. 10 of the 33 Stars for a reason. Even I and Chuang barely come out ahead against her!” “Automatic Selection.” “Eh,” Chuang blinked. “What?” “[Clairvoyance] focuses on the likeliest data and screens out the rest in its default mode,” Rem said “Thalia Holyworth and Pope-chan is invincible because they forecast events that have 99.9999999% chance of occurring. But here a dirty secret: the screening is a clutch. Let me guess, the Pope’s [Clairvoyance] never progress beyond ‘A’, right?” Chuang speechlessly nodded  Rem chuckled. The board-state just tipped massively in his favor. “You have me worrying for a second. Don’t tell me you guys believe in [Clairvoyance] so much you never trying to study it. Do you experiment with it at all? Do you understand how it worked? Are there any counter measure when its malfunction or do you brush it under the rug and pretend the mistake is a fluke?” Chuang’s silence told Rem everything. “Fucking unbelievable,” Rem facepalmed in a mixture of disappointment and amusement. “How are you still alive? The World Enemy must sleep for the last millennia given how happily ignorant you are. Now that I finally have an actual goddess I don’t like tied up and accountable—I have a question—why is everyone of your technology outside Isle of Knowledge look like it got source from middle age. What with the licensing law and trade secret that one organization steamrolled your civilization progress?” Chuang’s voice turned deceptively quiet. “No organization is sane enough to spread their secret into the public domain,” Chaung said. “Not everyone is a naive as Arden Christy.” Rem blinked, and he lost it. “OH MY GOD! THIS IS GREAT! NO WONDER THOSE BUFFOONS IN THE WHITEHOUSE GLUED THEIR TRAP SHUT FOR ONCE. YOU CALL YOURSELF A GOD. EVEN THE MOTHER FUCKING SURRENDER LAND OF FRENCH TOAST COME OUT BETTER. HOW CUCK ARE YOU PLANNING TO GET!?” Rem wiped his tears. “This explains everything. It totally explain why the Earth suddenly become hermit kingdom whose trade deal so far have been mineral resources, third-world children and fucking New Zealand's wool,” Rem said. “No wonder they asked Athena to keep the private economy partially isolated from Phantasia for two mother-fucking decades, while exporting the best of the generation to Balperia.” Chuang thought Rem suddenly gone crazy. “What the hell are you talking about?!” Chuang shouted. “How could a Mana-less civilization like Earth hide anything from the gods?” “They are not hiding it,” Rem slammed his fist on the table in a fit of laughter. “Hiding a law is impossible. We only succeed because of disinterest. That godly arrogance is a hell of a pit to fall into.” “Arrogance?” Chuang said in confusion. “Let me demonstrate my planet’s hidden trump-card,” Rem explained. “I call this invention: Breaker’s Consciousness Convergence Calculation or Breaker’s CCC. Base on assumption [Clairvoyance] is an ability to predict the future by accounting by present variable, I discover that those inputs is adjustable and the resulting future isn’t unchangeable.” Rem grabbed a paper and write his method. “CCC is an ability to model the future and the past by inputting variables and manually run it using [Clairvoyance]. To successfully use CCC a practitioner must use several techniques and overcome 3 problems. First, the accessibility of the information depend on the level of [Clairvoyance] compared to the target’s importance. A deep meditation using Astral Tracing patented by Remus Breaker and Hikma De Darwin will solve the first problem as long as the information already existed. While the risk of backlash remained, it is minimizable by the exercise of self-regulation and caution. Second, the information must sort out properly. An altered version of combat conditioning method taught and supervised by goddess Scathach can resolve this stage. Third is manually inputting and altering [Clairvoyance]. The third problem represent the most arduous part of CCC because the requirement for the user to create a subconscious routine using self-imposed hypnosis in combination with Scathach’s mental conditioning technique. To satisfy the condition, I used the [Mentalism] Arcane compiled by Hikma De Darwin from the Astral Conciousness under the catalyzation of Art of Hypnotism by Arya’s Academy, Legend of Zeniji from Oolongo of Elypt, House of Mentalism by D. C. Tanmar and Hundred Year Myth by Yuliman.” Chuang lost count of how many times her mouth dropped open that day. “What the hell is that?” “Nothing much,” Rem showed her the piece of scribbled paper he signed. “It entail how I altered my [Clairvoyance] from forecasting skill to strategic model. Essentially, instead of following the hand of fate like a blind man, I demand fate to tell me how to win. It is what put you in that chair after losing the battle your precious Pope would predict your victory. With this paper in hand and access to the source material I listed, anyone with [Clairvoyance] can also use CCC to change fate itself.” Rem waved the paper in front of her. “I am a simple man, so I will ask a simple question.” Rem said. “How much do you think this is worth?” Chuang named no price—no one could. The technique that explored [Clairvoyance] on that level never existed in the history of Phantasia. No one in their history even came close to that. Convention dictated [Clairvoyance]’s vision occurred when witnessing an object or a person. A selected few understood that prayers helped raised the chance of the vision. The height of the rank also influenced the vision quality and frequency. As a few who fought Thalia Holysworth, Chuang considered herself to be more knowledgeable on [Clairvoyance] than most 33 Stars. But she was nothing comparable to this enigmatic pioneer. How could a monster like this exist? Who would think of activating [Clairvoyance] by self-hypnotism or forcefully altering the variable to change the vision? The piece of paper in his hand detailed a formula to turn certain defeat to an absolute victory. The Holy Church alone would pay their fortune to get it. “The licensing profit,” Rem declared his price. “Licensing?” Chuang’s brain drawn a blank yet again. “What?” “Well, it a nice little concept from home,” Rem answered proudly. “The founding fathers of my country is tad concern with freedom since they just kicked the British from our dirt. In 1790, they created the copyright act. Inventor can apply to the government to secure the right of an intellectual property for exclusive use or distribution. Essentially, if you try to copy my work, I can sue you. This process also put the value to my work after it have publicly published, allowing me to license it out for production and replication. Sure, you can’t copy my work, but you can extrapolate and marketed it out to make bucks.” “You are telling me you share your foundation?” Chuang’s perspective did a somersault. “You let your invention get used by someone else and fueling your enemy? What a joke? If everyone learn the secret to your foundation, then your organisation and family will suffer?” “Yes, if suffering equate to their creativity gear running,” Rem mocked the Heavenly Daughter. “Idea is like currency. It is at its most powerful when circulate. The innovative idea in my chest will only degrade in value or lost to time. An innovation in the free market will generate me — the original author — hell of profit. Because the patent is leasable, multiple folks can build on my hard work and patent their shit. Maybe an enchantment to predict climate with [Clairvoyance] or an artificial [Clairvoyance]. Unlike you, stingy small-minded goddess, I view imitation as greatest flattery and will happily buy those licenses to innovate more shit. I can go from climate prediction to space-flight simulator. That is how my Mana-less world achieve space-flight with no magic. Meanwhile, you gods still crawl under the stratosphere, worrying about a Joe getting ahead, hoarding your knowledge like a petty little doggy born with the platinum spoon.” Rem derided. “And here you are the valuable chest of immense extrapolatable knowledge,” Rem suddenly realized something. “You know what, I should talk to Cy about licensing. We have come up with insane ideas so far and patenting act will be a helpful catalyst for internal industrial revolution. Anyway, would you mind tell me your secret, or should I use this opportunity to test my newly invent interrogation technique on you.” Chuang often looked back to that day and cursed herself for not giving Rem the ball.

Milian was burning while its guardian argued over what to do with one girl. Melody couldn’t even bring herself to get angry. It was too pathetic. Then she realized she put herself through pain and brutal lacerations to save these idiots. Now she simply sad. “I don’t get it!” One adventurer argued. “Why don’t we just kill her?” “That would be a waste,” one bearded adventurer said. “Look at her body. She should fetch quite a handsome prices from the slave market after a little cleaning.” “Oh, shut up!” An eye-patch woman slinging a broken arm jabbed at one man. “I’m the one this bitch rob! Only I have the right to sell her!” “Don’t you dare!” Another man yelled at the eye-patch woman. “It took all of us to bring her down! The share should get divided equally between all of us!” “You did nothing!” One unkemptly dressed man called out. “How about this! We divide the share by contributions. My team suffers the most casualty taking her down. We should receive the lion share.” “Don’t try to sneak your way in this! Ours did the most damage!” Melody listened to the sad comedic skid with depressive amusement. This torture was simultaneously pathetic and sad. It was like watching a person getting maul to death by a goat. “Just shut up and kill me already,” the young demoness groaned. “Death is better than this.” “SHUT UP! You think you are in the position to act like a smart-mouth right now?” “You know boss; why don't we strip her down and make her our-“ “Shut up all of you.” The voice was cold and chilling. Everyone turned to see the old man glaring reproachfully at them. Silence immediately came to the area courtesy of the threatening air oozing out of the old man like sun rays. “You all need to respond to the Emergency Charter. Illma Zoldia Road isn’t the type who let you get away with retarding.” “What about this little bitch?” An adventurer swung a kick at Melody’s face. The kick connected squarely in her face. However, exhausted and beaten as she were, Melody's superior toughness still showed. The girl tanked the blow without flinching while glaring back at the kicker so intensely that he backed away. “Enough,” the old man said. “I'll be keeping watch over her.” “Like hell, we know you plan to take her for yourself?” “Isn’t the fact that I'm one of the widely known adventurers in this town enough for you?” The old man replied. “You all know where I live. If I break this deal, you can find me anytime. Moreover, I am the one who dealt her the most damage. I got the most say in what we should do with her. Right now, you are wasting time while a dragon continues to rampage.” “But-“ “Do you think you have a connection to survive Illma Zoldia Road’s punishment after delaying her order?” The adventurers said nothing. “Fine! We’re leaving guys!” One by one, the adventurers left. Some threw back a curse at the young girl before walking away, some part of the crowd glanced back angrily, but most departed without saying a word. At long last, the girl and the old man was left alone. “Why are you doing this?” Melody started. “For profit, mostly,” the old man said. “This is the best way for me to get out of this alive.” “What?!” Melody spoke in shock. The old man sat cross leg before liting his cigarette. “It is a tactical decision,” the old man said. “But if this is a Sicilian Ghost Dragon, then fighting its head-on is suicide. Meanwhile, I need to protect my position in the adventurer’s guide, so this is the best option I have. Send those stupid youngsters to die in the fire first, then came in later when the victor is clear. Hopefully, Illma will get kill by the dragon, and everything will go back to normal. If the dragon lost, I can say I am guarding you. Either way, I survive.” “Then why are you telling me all of this?” “Because you are a thief and an annoyance. Between your words and mine who would take yours seriously. Plus, if I cu-“  BANG! A pillar of rock sent the old man crashing into a house. He tried to climb up, but a second pillar smashed his consciousness into the ground. “Geez, basic forms of cowardice truly plague all ages.” A stuffy voice spoke from behind Melody’s back. “And I think I would get to retire in peace after all those stupid wars.” The pillory locking the young demoness in place magically dissolved into muds, leaving Melody sitting on the ground, blinking at her rescuer. “Who are you?” “My name is Obi-wan Kenobi,” said an old-dwarf. “Should we get you a drink and a patch-up, Princess of Demonic Continent?” … On the other side of the town, another decisive battle raged. An explosion blasted Luxinna off a roof and lighted few of the remaining building on fire. The elf landed on a nearby house, sending pieces of red tiles flying from her landing. Luxinna picked herself up and ran as another lance of fire turned the ground she stood on to rubble.  Without a doubt, the fight went disastrously for the elf. On the roof behind her, Illma Zoldia Road stepped into the moonlight. The full moon cast a black, ominous figure, towering above the fleeing elf. Despite holding the high ground, Illma was resisting the urge to tear her hair out. The elf was fast, almost too fast. She couldn’t land a solid hit on her at all. Illma clenched her teeth; time to go all-out. The Untouchable called upon her Skill. A red pool of ominous light flowed from below her feet like an ocean corruption.  Then she cast her spell. “[Sacrificial Rite: Bloodstain Blossom].” Seven crimsons orbs materialized behind Illma and lashed toward Luxinna in a blaze of dark-red trails. The elf leaped back, preparing for a counter-attack until her body shook. A chilling, blood-curling pain in her stomach shuddered through her body as if her intestine was burning.  Luxinna bit off the scream, but that pause was enough for an orb to come close enough. The orb's power completely overshadowed the previous attack. It nearly collapsed the house below her in one collision before exploding, blowing the building and Luxinna herself into the sky. The elf grimaced from damage before quickly realizing she had six more attacks to fight off.  Luxinna landed on a roof nearby, tossing three knives into those orbs, setting-off three crimson explosions. However, the elf underestimated the explosions that, despite being a good 20 meters away, was powerful enough to send her flying. Luxinna bounced across the roof with her ears ringing. Nevertheless, she managed to intercept a few more orbs with her knives before falling off the roof. Luckily, she caught its edge in time and hung on with all her strength.  But the resulting blast didn't stop. It overcame the barrier of distance, rocking the house and knocking the windows off their hinge. The elf huffed, blinking out her tears as the pain in her stomach light her nerves on fire. What the heck was that? Then the entire house blew up, blasting Luxinna into the street below. Then, around her, everything exploded. In the distance, Illma watched the orbs rendered entire blocks to ash and smiled. The little freak must be dead at this point. … Luxinna wasn’t dead. With luck and speed, the elf survived the explosion, albeit barely, mostly due to her golden armor dampening the blast.  Exhausted, Luxinna dragged herself from the carnage, discretely making her way across a dampened alley. She hoped to find a place to hide, but instead, a light of a busy street met her. She blinked. Then a dreadful realization struck. In her battle with Illma, Luxinna didn’t stay in a particular area. Given that her only ace over Illma was her superior agility, honed from years venturing the Lightwell forest, the elf used it to the very fullest. She Leaped roof-to-roof, dodging lances and columns of flames, hoping to trick Illma into over-spending her mana. But she didn’t notice the direction the battle was taking her. The constant movement took her from the North-East side of the town down to the South East. Right in the middle of an unevacuated area. “This is bad,” she talked to herself.  “No,” said the voice above her. “This is excellent. With you annoyingly refuse to die, murdering those plebian will be an excellent stress relief.”  Luxinna’s heart sank. Illma Zoldia Road stood on the roof above before gliding down on the cloud of fire. The Untouchable landed with only Luxinna between her and innocent civilian. “You know, this isn’t the first time I do this,” Illma said cheerily. “Lure trashes into the plebian then blow 'em all up. Those screaming are excellent for my mental health.” Illma’s hand glowed red as an ominous crimson light pooled beneath her. “[Sacrificial Rite: Bloodstain Edge],” Illma laughed. “Run as you want bitch! My [Blossom] marked anyone who survived its barrage with a locator curse. There are nowhere you can hide!” Luxinna glanced behind her. A bar stood behind her. Inside it, a woman was being cat-called by a cheerful-looking man. One bartender called his friend out for being a pain, while two customers laughed at the mundanely of it all. Among the outdoors tables, two kids were pretending to be an adventurer. One, in particular, was a boy holding a toy staff, playing as a mage. Despite the chaos blowing up a block nearby, these people still believed everything would be fine. For them, the dragon and explosion were just like a random hurricane. They thought, wholeheartedly, that after tonight everything would go back to normal. The area might get crowded from the evacuees, but they faced the challenge with a welcoming attitude; ignorantly continuing their lives despite a mass-murderer visited. Luxinna couldn’t dodge; her moral wouldn’t stand her letting those innocent people taking these blows for her. “Die,” Illma Zoldia Road slashed her hand, unleashing a crimson blade. The elf gritted her teeth and let loose magic of her own. The two light, gold, and crimson lit up the entire block. … In another part of Millian, a certain goddess was losing her mind. “What do we do?!” Cytortia screamed at the sky. “F-U3 fails! And Lux is fighting that monster one-on-one. Scathach, what do we do?” Scathach was biting her nail nervously. It was the first time Cytortia saw Scathach this afraid. “Launch F-U3,” Scathach ordered, sweating with nervousness. “Seven syringes is still better than zero.” “What about Luxinna?” Scathach didn’t answer that question. She didn’t want to tell the goddess that this wasn’t the first time someone tried to put a pointy object into Illma’s heart. She didn’t want to tell Cytortia that all of those hopeful assassins ended up dead. Worse was even those double-digit body-count failed to reveal any useful information on Illma’s ability. Scathach wouldn't even give Luxinna 14% percent chance of survival. But, still, she wished for a miracle. … Outside Millain, a tower of fire started to die down. A crafter, dressed in ceremonial garb, started dancing; calling upon the spirits to bless the weapon of the heart of the paladin. ...  It was a calm night when the two men chatted over a drink. “Is the business that gloomy?” One man asked. Another man pinched the bridge of his nose. “The Untouchable ruins the business,” he replied. “People won’t visit when they felt their life hanging on the line. It gets worse this month. Everyone tried to keep it normal, but it was like we are under a steel grip.” “Hah, I know the solution for you, my man. A trip to the brothel can fix any-“  Suddenly a crimson glow bathed them. “What is th-“ Without warning, something cannonballed into the bar with speed barely visible to the eyes. The object sped past the men and embedded itself into the wall with a force of the canon, splintering the impact zone into smithereens. It was a shambling body of Luxinna. The elf was breathing, but the crashed of power left her battered. Blood seeped from multiple scratches across her body. The right sleeve of reinforced uniform had been torn away from the blast, revealing a new bleeding slash-wound on her arm. The men stared. The crowd gathered to see what was happening until they heard the voice that sent a chill down their spine. “I have to say I am annoyed,” Illma Zoldia Road walked out from the dark alley. “Do you happen to share a gene with a cockroach, you bitch?" The crowd barely believed their eyes. “Il-Illma,” a bartender pointed at the Untouchable monster. “ILLMA ZOLDIA ROAD! EVERYONE RUN!” All of a sudden, the crowd ran, screaming and crying for their lives. The two chatting men tried to find a way of the pub, but the only exit brought them in front of Illma’s firing range. The two children playing outside the bar shrank to the nearest corner, one burst into tear. The waitress screamed and dove for cover, while the bartender hunkered down and started prying. They knew it was hopeless. That was the fate of the weak in the jaw of the strong. “Annoying,” Illma turned and pointed at crying children, her finger bright with flames. “I always hate the brat’s crying noise.” The children cried, but the older one still mustered up the courage to shield the younger boy from the flame. He closed his eyes, feeling the flash of red and gold cut by, but he felt nothing. “Get inside the bar and find a place to hide. I’ll handle her.” The boy opened up his eyes to see himself shielded by a beautiful glass flower while everything around him burns. A tattered figure that wasn't there the moment before held the golden light. She was bleeding, leaning on her knee, but her voice was far from defeat. “Handle me?” Illma laughed. “Look at you! You can’t even land a scratch!” Behind her mask, Luxinna's teeth clenched as she gathered the strength to stand up. Her mind was spinning. She knew an animal's body language. Heartbeat and muscle never lied to her. Years surviving and hunting predator in the forest with only senses and smart taught her to rely on all her instinct. She needed to focus. Rem beat her because she got distracted and she can’t let that happened here. That last taunt was a bluff. Luxinna landed a hit, but Illma tried to convince her she failed to do a single thing. Why? The elf mentally revised the entire fight for a hint. Those weird sense of pain in her stomach, the same agony ripping her arm apart even now, then the electric shock before any of those; those must be a core of Illma ability. Wait. Electric shock? How did she get shocked? Isn’t its Illma who got tasered? And isn’t those previous attacks too powerful? If Illma could demolish the entire block in the beginning, how did one agile elf survive this long? Those special attacks must take something out of Illma. Then it hit Luxinna. Maybe those sense of pain was the magic's recoil, and the reason she felt it was the same as the reason she got the electric shock. “Oh, I think I land something,” Luxinna tested the water. “Only I’m feeling it instead of you.” Illma’s eyes widened. “Oh, you think you work out something!” She quickly countered. “Too bad! You are dead wrong.” Bingo, Luxinna thought. Illma was lying. The Untouchable’s ability was pain transmission. Illma could transmit the sense of pain to her opponent. Given how Illma used the [Sacrificail Rite] special attack sparingly, she couldn’t send the actual injury just the pain. Now the elf only needed to ask herself one more question. How does she beat a sociopath armed with an automatic magic shield, pain transmitting ability, and an over-power attack that exploit the full-force of pain transmission?

If anybody asked, Rem would declare the concept of sin to be nonsensical. Lust prevented species from going deep-sixes as the third-wave feminist would eventually do. Pride might be redundant, but it tied with professionalism and morals. Without the concept of greed, the world economy would be the world's largest graveyard. Believe that the seven deadly sins were as reliable as a mailman traveling through a tropical hurricane was a few things Rem shared with his atheistic family. Yet, Remus Breaker couldn't help but felt the ancient monk of antiquity might have a point upon witnessing the scene in front of him. Plates stacked on top of another like layer of the Alp. Clanking resounded as one more porcelain disk join its brethren on that white mountain. Noodle, steak, fried rice, and bow of salads vanished into the mouth of the beast of calamity. Despite her shabby cloth and thin frame, the elf was more than qualified to be a vessel for the sin of gluttony.  Wordlessly, she swallowed another grilled chicken breast. Rem stared, he could barely see her fork moved. "Another!" Luxinna Drakokia shouted, her cheek puffing from the food in her mouth. Scathach also stared. "Yes!" Cytortia--who had recovered from the collision hours ago--slid a plate of succulently grilled fish down the table with a smile. "You look too happy," Scathach said to the young goddess. "No one ever ate my food like this," the goddess wiped her tears in gratitude. "Those bitches always call cooking plebeian jobs, so I never have to cook like this." Rem chewed the fried rice. The food was good. Too good even. The meat was succulently spiced, and the steam rice was fresh and sweet. The goddess must have done something to the oil because the mixture just went together too well. Woe betides the other Heavenly Daughters. Morale, regardless of power-level, was proportional to the food-quality; take Scathach munching on the fried rice enthusiastically as proof. Finally, the beast of hunger was satiated when the plate-count hit twenty-nine. "This is so good," Luxinna squirmed in delight while swallowing another homemade pudding. "So did my sister sent you here?" Rem perked up. "What makes you think that?" Luxinna looked longingly toward Lightwell. Dusk already started settling, but even in the crimson sky, the city was dazzling with rays of emerald blue aura. "So she didn't send you," Luxinna realized and sighed without any care in the world. "Well, I should have expected that. She has more to worry about than a reject." Cytortia, who stared collecting dishes, heard that and frowned. "You believe you are a reject?" Luxinna leaned back lazily on her chair, swaying to and fro playfully while giving Cytortia a sad Cheshire smile. "Yes, just look at me," Luxinna stretched her cramped body. "The only thing I can do is electrocuting people. Every time I try spirit magic, the spirit either tries to kill me or run. Hell, everything tries to kill me. Even my father gave it a go once, and my kind threw me into the wood and prayed the wildlife would finish me off." Luxinna leaned backed and glanced at the cloud, contemplating dejectedly at the contrasting colors above. "And after all these years of waiting and hoping even my friend and sister walk out on me," Luxinna faked a yawn. "I won't be surprised if the world wants me gone." Cytortia slammed her hand onto the table. Her face incensed with frustration. "That isn't true," she yelled at the elf who ignored her. "Eva writes to ask about you every week! Uncle Avar still cares about you even now!" Luxinna flashed Cytortia an angry scowl. Thin neutral lips replaced her smile, and her blue eyes hardened harder than ice. "Where are they then?" Cytortia's answer stifled in her throat. "You can say anything you want, but your words won't amount to anything," Luxinna said bitterly. "Eva wasn't there when uncle Avar exiled me. Everyone I know walked out on me when I was revealed to be a freak. If they care, then why don't they come to me and say this is all a massive misunderstanding?" With that, the goddess pitch capsized. Now, the honey badger stepped up to the bat. "I heard about you from Avar," Scathach said. "He spoke highly of you, and I agreed with him. I can teach you more than the Drakokia ever could. Girl, you deserve much better than to rot like this." "Really, what are you going to teach me? How to use magic I never wanted?" Luxinna snorted indignantly.  "Do you think the elf knows what they wasted?" Scathach raised her voice. "Your ability isn't a curse. It is a gift, Luxinna. The idiotic loser is your family, not you.  Your raw stats mix with your one-of-the-kind magic would put you up at the top of Phantasia's best with almost no effort. If you walk out of this forest-" Luxinna stood up with a force that sent her chair sprawling. "I won't," Luxinna angrily replied. "I am perfectly content in this forest--thank you very much. Do you think I want to return the favor against my people for throwing me out here? Sorry, but blood is thicker than water. There is no deal in the world that you can give to turn me against Lightwell. So quit it. I like it here and won't be moving." Luxinna's eyes were unshakable. Scathach's feature scrunched as she contemplated whether or not to drag the elf out of the forest by force. But Luxinna didn't know about the devil--luckily a trustworthy one--in their midst. "Oh, but that is a lie, isn't it?" said the emotionless whispers of Rem Breaker. "Quite a fickle one, aren't you? One moment you gave up, saying everything hates you. But when we offered you that acceptance, you pushed it away. Why is that?" Rem took out a bottle he prepared and poured the elf a glass of cider.  Both the badger and the goddess looked blasphemously at the bottle Rem stole with their permission. "Need a drink?" "Why should I take it?" Luxinna said with indignations. "Did you spike the drink or something? Look, I thank you for the meal, but I will stay in this forest. So take your bottle and leave me alone." "Yep," Rem took that glass of cider and swigged it all down his throat. "Shame that you don't want it. By the way, it is from elder Avar." "Wh-" Luxinna looked covetingly at the empty glass. "That is that uncle Avar's apple cider?" "Why should I tell you?" Rem poured himself another drink and teased it in front of Luxinna. "But since you are that pitiful, I will say yes." Then Rem cocked his head to aside. He lifted that glass of elven's apple cider high and tossed it way. All pairs of eyes but one widened in panic and disbelief. The glass never landed. None of its content tipped or spilled over either. The reason was obvious. At the moment the glass flew, a person moved. Her reaction and speed took even Scathach by surprised.  Luxinna dove for that glass with the speed Cytortia couldn't believe, and her peers were Chunag and Tie Hua. No, Cytortia corrected herself. Her senior sister was much faster, but Luxinna's movement was more driven. It was almost animalistic as if that pale beverage was everything to her.  Luxinna laid prone to the ground. In her hand held the glass of cider that rippled like a nearly forgotten memory. Then Rem started narrating. "You said you hate your power. Yes, that might sound reasonable, lightning brought you nothing but trouble. But that doesn't explain why you spent time in the forest half-starving yourself. That can't explain why you reject our offer the way you did." Rem continued his analysis without a pause. His voice was mercilessly was cutting at her without any sympathy. "Let look at our conversation, you try acting dismissive and lazy, but that could be a lie--or a defense mechanism. Let ignore every claim you made and focus on your action. Only two consistent things were clear: you get pissed off when your folk got trash-talk, and you keep looking back at Lightwell City like it is your long-lost childhood." Rem twisted the knife in further, leaving the elf trembling on the ground. "So I make a theory. You never left this forest because you want to be as close as possible to your home. You wish, despite how impossible, that everything can go back to when you were ten. Maybe a miracle will happen, and your sentence will overturn. The fact that you thought Magnolia sent us gave it away. Disappoint must suck hard, given how crusty you get after discovering that your expectation is still in an imaginary land. But I must admit I am happy that is the case. If the loyal girl the elder talked so highly about already changed, we would have wasted a trip." Cytortia and Scathach looked solemnly at the haggard girl who treasured that glass of cider with the care reserved for a wish-granting lamp. "That glass must feel warm, isn't it, Luxinna? It must be aged ago when you, your sister, and Eva crash into old uncle Avar place, sharing a glass of apple cider. It is that pleasant nostalgia you can't abandon." Rem stopped talking. His facial expression never changed, but for a second, he heard an internal voice of hesitation. Remus Breaker ignored that voice. Empathy was unnecessary to do what he must,  "Am I right, Luxinna Drakokia? Is that what you truly want?" Luxinna looked back at him. A single line of tears ran down her face. Her face sagged from lack of sleep, dirt, and stress. Miserably, her eyes welled up in sadness. "What if that is true?" The broken girl cried. "Is it wrong to have faith in your family? I only want to go home! Is there anything wrong with that? Is that too much to ask? I am holding out here for the day Mag finally convince father. I know she might already forget about me. But Mag never let me down! Not even once!" Rem looked at her with the eyes fill with space where the light went to die. That false-memory she created was the only thing propping up her shoulder. They had no doubt the elf went to sleep every night, dreaming about the trees city of canals and cedars. Maybe she imagined herself back on Lightwell, under the shade of a massive tree with everyone back home welcoming her back with open arms. Then perhaps she would finally get to enjoy the cider she longed for three years with her family.  Cytortia refused to meet the girl watering eyes. "That won't happen," Rem said, cruelly plunging a sword down into the heart of that weakly beating dream. "Your sister told me herself. If I remember correctly, we talked about how your exile was an elder's decision, a ruling far from help." Luxinna's eyes widened as her mind began to crack. The edge of that sunny dream started to fume. "That's a lie," Luxinna's hand spasm like she was vainly grabbing to that impossible fantasy. "Scathach," Rem said airily. "You had a habit of secretly recording stuff to explore later so-" With speed surpassing Rem's expectation, the badger whipped up a black metal-plate and lighted the rune engraved on the device dejectedly. Even the Scathach wasn't enthusiastic about this. 'What happened to Luxinna Drakokia was simply an unfortunate necessity to preserve the Drakokia's reputation.' The voice of Magnolia from the recorder shattered Luxinna completely. The girl sank on her knees. Every hope she carried broke like glasses.  The tears she held back gushed out amidst the crush pieces of that tragic wishes. Images she kept in her heart for the last thousand days smashed into smithereens and fell like snow together with the stream of teardrops. Her face, pale and blank, twitched weakly in horror as her worst fear finally realized itself and struck her down. "I am sorry," Scathach mouthed toward the watering girl. "But you needed to accept this... they are not coming for you." However, Rem didn't stop there; crushing people's dreams was not his mission. Doing something like this without purpose would be vain cruelty. Rem wasn't cruel. That was the reason he must follow through and crushed those shattered hope some more. "Here you are, crying hopelessly like a reject from reality TV's audition," Rem stared apathetically at the girl. "I will let you cry for a while, but you better hurry up. Your dad and sister are on the warpath. As a daughter and a sister, it's your job to be there at their deathbed." Luxinna's cry stifled. Her blue eyes widened as she barely comprehended what she was hearing. Rem smiled creepily. His figure cast a dark highlight in a pleasant light of the sunset. "Oh, you are interested? Do you know your dad is planning to invade the rest of the world for the sake of Drakokia's glory? I don't know about your sister, but given how our conversation went, your old man has her wrapped in his finger. I wonder how many will die from the conflict. Would your little sister join the battlefield? Would she kill? Cross that, maybe she already did. Ever wonder how many innocent civilians will die by your sister's order? Maybe dear old Mag would get lucky and die a pointless death in the battlefield without killing single women and children." With every word progressed in that speech, Luxinna's malnourished face grew more enraged. Her fist clenched tighter and her teeth ground in rage as she looked at the hateful shadow who casually slashed her wishes to piece. "Shut up," Luxinna growled at him. "Mag isn't that kind of person! You don't know her at all!" "And you do?" Luxinna opened her mouth to retort, but she replied died in her throat. "Yes, you don't know your sister anymore," Rem pointed causally at the sword resting on the leg of the plastic table. "Given who I work for, maybe the day I have to kill her might arrive. Rest assured, I would do it without any hesitation. Maybe it would even be with that sword over there." Luxinna remained silent, tear still trickling down her cheek. Cytortia itched away from the boiling atmosphere. She knew this couldn't end well. "Infact, let cut the rope today, " Rem lied as he leisurely walked toward his sword. "That's far cheaper for my wallet and effort, not that it won't make any difference. It doesn't matter when the wild animal get slaughtered, all that counts is that it is dead. Want to give your sister some last good-bye?" Rem stopped walking, his blade within hand reach. The boy ignored the dissipating sobs and rising pressure from an elf girl who glared at him with murderous intent. "Seriously," Rem gave Luxinna a jesting smile founded only on the devil's face. "I can pass it along when I slide this sword through her ribs. So-" The sword Rem was reaching for vanished. An elf appeared in front of him. Her body bent low. The sword flashed beautifully from her hand. Its sharpened edge raced quickly toward Rem's eyes. Luxinna whispered. "Die..."  Rem smiled.

Cytortia held her new almanac tightly. She should feel happy, but happiness was the opposite of what she felt when she saw the exhausted Luxinna. “Let me guess: the negotiation went south.” Rem didn’t even try to act sad. “Let be honest here. We all know the negotiation would go south.” Luxinna stifled back her urge to scream. “But you don’t have to make it worse!” Luxinna yelled at Rem. “You pretty much pissed her off within the first five minutes.” “Because I need a confirmation,” Rem grinned sinisterly. “No worry. I have a secret plan to make Shyme tell us everything she knows.” “How?” Luxinna demanded. Rem handed Cytortia a piece of paper. “Cy, please read the paper,” Rem said. “I will give you a clue about what to do next. Remember what I said to you about politicking.” … Cytortia held her breath, opened the door, and met her friend one on one. “I hope you are not planning to persuade me to change my mind,” Shyme Enma combed her luxurious black hair. “Where did you find someone that annoying anyway?” “Oh please, I fell onto Rem, literally,” Cytortia said. “The longer I stay with him, the more I am sure I exist to keep him under control. Do you know he already came up with eight plans to remove your cousins?” “Do you mean that idiot?” “No, I mean both that idiot and Grustav.” Shyme giggled for a solid minute until she realized Cytortia wasn’t joking. “Are you serious?” Cytortia tossed Shyme a stack of papers. “Does this feel like joking to you?” Shyme skimmed the papers. They dictated several known abilities Grustav had and a lot more speculation. Shyme must admit the person who wrote this was good. He got everything from date-of-birth to body-weight. There was also a detailed analysis of Grustav’s habit from a recorded fight. Wait, what did the approximated his penis get to do with anything. Finally, Shyme reached the Nightmare fuel-station.  The list included but not limited to: Trick Grustav into eating Burning Sunshine Desecrate the Enma clan's ancestral grave and blow up the area when that distract him Mindwipe his competitor (Shyme or Sorin Enma) and turn them into a suicide bomber Drop an invisible grand-class airship on his head The paper even noted the tool, resource, and parameter needed to execute the plan. By the time Shyme went through the redundancy and escape measure, she was in awe. People had to put effort into being this evil. “You should see the plan he reserved for LinLey,” Cytortia cracked a dark joke. “I don’t know whether to feel horrible or satisfy.” “Cy,” Shyme said. “I think this man is insane.” “I know,” Cytortia replied. “But do you think you have a chance against him?” “I can smack him easily,” Shyme huffed. “No matter how good he planned, it will be useless if he got caught by surprise." “He wants me to tell you that it will be easier for my senior sisters to kill me with him gone.” Shyme bit back a curse. “Okay, what is the point of bringing this up, Cy. I am quite busy, and talking about your new psychotic buddy isn’t a great use of our time.” “Because he doesn’t have a plan.” Shyme turned toward her best friend in the world. “What?” Cytortia picked up the paper and waved it in front of Shyme. “The man who wrote this admit we are doom. Someone in this city has a weapon that makes Rem threw the towel. I don’t know how that makes you feel, but the prospect of Rem running out of idea terrifies me.” Shyme indignation responded. “Why should I care about Rem—” Shyme suddenly stopped as she realized something. “Isn’t his name Dream?” “It is a fake,” Cytortia said. “His name is Rem Breaker. Rem isn’t a type who trusts anyone with his identity.” Shyme could only think one thing. “Isn’t this excessive?” Then she realized another obvious. “Wait, what about the elf?” “Luxinna Latoria,” Cytortia replied honestly. “She is Magnolia’s older sister.” Shyme did a spit-take. “Magnolia has a sister! How?! Why did I never hear about this?” “Because no one in Lightwell wants to acknowledge she existed. Don’t talk to Luxinna about Magnolia. It is still a sore spot for her.” Shyme clutched her head. Suddenly, life looked way too complicated. “Who is stronger between the two?” Shyme asked out of curiosity. “Is Luxinna anywhere close to her sister?” “Luxinna only received a proper training a few months ago,” Cytortia said. “The Drakokia pretty much tossed her into the wood after her awakening.” “Wait,” Shyme said. “Don’t tell me you are picking up strays.” The fox girl’s expression softened a little. “Cy, you know I admire your compassion, but picking up Luxinna means adding Magnolia as your enemy. Don’t you already have enough enemies on the 33 Stars? I can’t protect you from everything.” “I know, but let me finish,” Cytortia said. “The current Luxinna is a solid B-rank with potential to fight a low A. I don’t know who will win, but Magnolia needs to come at Lux with all she has to survive the fight.” “What? Are you serious?” “I ain't the one who claims that,” Cytortia said. “Scathach did. I don’t what do you think, but from what I have seen, Luxinna is one of the greatest combat prodigies of this generation. And Rem is the only human in equal rank who won several fights with her.” Shyme shrunk down on her chair. The statistic she heard was absurd. She did a quick estimate. If the elf could reach a B-rank in a few months, it was highly likely that she would surpass even her by the end of the year. That was terrifying. But even more terrible was the fact that such a monster could remain under the radar without anyone knowing. Shyme knew she would still be underestimating the elf unless her best friend spelled it out for her. “Why do you tell me any of this?” Shyme said. “The elf and that human is your secret weapon to win the fight between the 33 Stars. Why let me know?” Cytortia showed her another piece of paper. Shyme skimmed past several tips written on the note on how the conversation would go. But what shock her was at the end of the page. IF YOU GOING TO JUMP, I TRUST YOUR LEAP OF FAITH. “I wouldn’t tell you any of this without their permission,” Cytortia said. “Rem believes in my judgment, and I trust you more than anyone, Shyme. So I want you to trust me when I said we are all in danger.” Shyme didn’t how she felt. Despite her popularity, Shyme Enma didn’t have friends. She only had employees, admirers, and tools. All of them treated her like a divine existence, and given how the Enma clan descended from the divine beast, they should. However, that kind of reverence wasn’t what she wanted. What she wanted was a friend she could open up to--someone who accepted her as a regular person, not an heir to a worlds-spanning enterprise. She only got Cy as that friend, and it took a very unlucky circumstance for that to happen. Cy trusted her with information that her comrade never would. Shyme trembled. Yes, this was indeed a leap of fate, and it hit hard. “Your comrade said something about summoning ritual,” Shyme mentioned. “My patron said that someone is summoning a beast from beyond to power his plan. If this beast get lose, there will be no one who can defeat it--not my master, not the Enma clan, not the five guardians. I know that sounds outlandish, but she was never wrong before.” “And you are planning to fight this monster?” “Hopefully, no,” Cytortia said. “But I can’t abandon an entire city to die, and you know that, Shyme.” Shyme took the breath. She finally worked out what was that man's angle. He decided to put up a proposition she couldn’t refuse. That bastard let Cytortia be Cytortia; trusting, faithful, and loyal. He knew her friend's genuineness would convince her, and it presented her with an ultimatum: give them the information or let Cytortia fight a hopeless battle to the death alongside them. Shyme exhaled. That human already won the moment Cytortia's honesty convinced her the threat was real. Shyme flicked a switch in her drawer. A sound of sliding mechanism followed. The bookcase in the wall on her right opened to reveal a secret room. “Follow me,” Shyme said mirthlessly. … Cytortia’s jaw dropped. Shyme collection was impressive. Rows of display cases lined both sides of the wall. Each display case held a tome. Every document she passed by must be an ancient artifact costing at least several million. Cytortia flinched when she saw a text made out of human skin sitting next to a book with pure gold-cover. Who in the world would write that book? “The author of that book is a shaman from the Senile Islands,” Shyme explained the question running through her head. “Try not to stand next to it for too long. It drives people insane just by standing next to it.” Cytortia took ten steps back. “This is an impressive collection, Shyme,” Cytortia glanced at a ruby-color diary; she recognized that book. It was a diary of an ancient king from another world. Shyme bought it in an auction for 180 million credit. “But why did you bring me here.” “Because of that,” Shyme pointed to an empty display case. “Someone stole a scroll from my collection a few months ago.” Cytortia blinked. “What? How!? You have the best security in the damn city! Enma clan’s barrier is impenetrable.” “Yes,” Shyme said. “But someone proved that isn’t true anymore. My father recovered that tome from a ruin of an ancient death-cult a decade ago. Nobody could decipher that ancient language, so he gave it to my personal collection. It disappeared a few months ago.” Cytortia might not be as good as Rem, but she did learn the fine art of spotting coincidences. It all made sense. The timing of Satholia's contact and the tome theft coincided. It also answered their question of why the user was only putting his ritual in motion now. Finally, everything started to match. “So, the thief who stole the tome is the ritual master,” Cytortia said. “He must discover that you the tome a month ago and stole it. Given the expertise requires to infiltrate your barrier, he must be an incredible mage. Do you have any idea?” “I don’t,” Shyme said. “The only mage who can pull this off is a high-ranking government official or someone above the high A-rank. Even Tai Hua couldn’t do this without breaking the barrier, and we know that bitch is a monster.” “Rem might be able to work it out with his [Clairvoyance].” Shyme raised her eyebrows. “The guys who made plans to kill us all can look into the future?” “Yeah,” Cytortia admitted. “I guess you should know who to blame when someone you know fell out of the sky in a ball of fire.” Shyme glanced at the brick ceiling. Suddenly, the world seemed to be less candy-cane and rainbow and more of a hellish zombie-land. “That is fuck up, Cy.” “I know.” Shyme silently decided to cut to the chase. She strolled toward the display case before knocking on it twice. The metal panel flipped, revealing a stack of papers. “This is the copy of the stolen tome,” Shyme handed Cytortia the paper. “I know it will be a long shot given that my entire family failed to interpret it, but I hope this will help.” “Thank, Shyme,” Cytortia accepted the paper and finally understood why even the Enma clan failed. What was on that tome wasn’t letters but patterns of dots. Cytortia had no idea how to deal with this, but she was sure a combination of Rem, Hikma, and Melody would break any magical language barrier. “I will also provide you with a letter of recommendation if you want to find any accommodation in the city,” Shyme said. “I will even ask Waiter to update you with any information source you request.” “Wow,” Cytortia couldn’t help but beam. “That is incredible, Shyme.” “Yes, but I have one condition.” … Outside of Shyme’s office, the elf was looking at Rem strangely. “Are you sure Cy can pull it off?” Rem looked at her leisurely. “Are you doubting our fearless leader?” The elf snorted. “Of course not, but I want to know why you of all people let Cytortia tell Shyme about us.” Rem sighed. “Because we don’t have leverage over Shyme. Moreover, alienating her would only make things more difficult in the long run. When going in with a disadvantage, not making concessions is impossible. We must show the evidence of trustworthiness and accountability by letting our mask down. Shyme knows Cy, so she would likely trust her word. Us putting our information up first is a sign of goodwill, which will only sweeten the deal. Right now, we need Shyme Enma more than she needs us, and she know it.” The door opened. “That is right, you lunatic,” Shyme eyed Rem with suspicion. “Your existence will make me sleep pretty hard tonight.” “Cy told you about my redundancies.”    “I did,” Cytortia looked at Rem with annoyance. “I told you I don’t appreciate you making a plan to off my best friend.” “I already give you what you want, but I need something more from your bargain.” “A plan to deal with LinLey and Grustav, right?” “Yes,” Shyme said. “But I also have one more opportunity for you. There will be a ball hosted by a Duke Lamington next week. Everyone with status will be there.” “Why should I be interested in getting on the radar?” “Because I recognize the way you operate.” Rem turned stiffed. “You are logical and know how to compromise,” Shyme explained. “I can see it from the way you hold yourself. You must be born in quite a high society, no matter how much you try to pretend otherwise. Trust me. It takes one noble to know another. That is why I know you know the benefit of having a connection.” Rem’s eyes sharpened. “It seems someone is rejecting his root,” Shyme felt a bit satisfied with this small victory. “I recommend you embrace it, fellow noble. I understand the joy of being free from obligation, but you can’t escape your blood. I am saying this for your benefit, Mr. Breaker. Your issue aside, I am also confident that our little thief will also be there.” “What is your price?” “Cytortia sold both of your ability to a very high standard,” Shyme said. “I want to see it for myself. How about you two fight three opponents of my choosing? I hope you do well, or else I might tag some of my employees with you. I hate to left my best friend safety in the hand of an incompetent.”

“DIIEEEE!!!” Trimegal’s scream remained Sol Grandy’s signature universal irritant. More annoying was the falling ice-beam it fired from the sky. In a symbolic gesture of her draining patience, Melody conjured tower of flames, stopping those attacks in clashes of ice and fires. Luxinna appeared on a random debris with a grunt. It was obvious half-measure won’t murder the artificial dragon. Swarms of [Assault Flora] peppered the dragon with blades of [Serene Glass] and accomplished nothing against those frozen armor. Melody’s attack barely dented it. Thankfully, times spent fighting against Hikma had a taught the girls patience. Luxinna swung [Historia], decapitating a draconic minion without sparing a glance. A spatial wave from Trimegal nearly broke her footing as it sent Melody crash-landed beside her. “Infodump?” Luxinna asked. “Yep, got everything,” Melody dusted herself, barely fazed by her high velocity trips. “It can operate up to a maximum of 124 minions. The ice out-put was about 25 kilotons TNT — relegated as nuclear level. The optic laser operated at a similar intensity to its ice. Rem was right. Those flesh emitted similar radiation to Sol Grandy. Worst, its regeneration rate is 134% of Cytortia.” “Great,” Luxinna groaned. Cytortia’s 2nd Legend lent her almost legendary stamina and regeneration. If Trimegal healed faster than the former goddess, beating it would be a headache. “Weaknesses?” “Its space defense and optic-blast have three-seconds cooldown. Limit power source meant it can’t activate ice-spells and corrosion radiation simultaneously. The most glaring of all is its energy got sourced directly from the Spiritium crystal buried in its chest.” Kree! The girls quickly annihilated the attacking minions. Luxinna promptly decapitated three with [Historia] and transformed her weapon to spear the last creature. Melody went with more barbaric approach, grabbing a draconic minion by its wing and ripping it to pieces. “Can you pierce the armor with [Dravritra]?” “Yes, but I saw an emergency surprises in its coding. Luxinna, we need [Edge of ADA] to finish it.” Luxinna cringed, but sighed after three solid seconds. “Fine,” Luxinna groaned. “Why?” “Its final redundancies channel the power of that stupid moon. Only [ADA] can penetrate that gap.” “Get me an opening,” Luxinna summoned her [Serene Glass]. Melody cracked her fingers and activated her EAPS. She pressed a start button on her homemade timer. [Burning Asura: Dragon Dance] … Ever wonder where Dragons came from? Lore time! Multiverse had no shortage of dragon, but their ancestry was unordinary. It was a tale originating from the Multiversal Genesis — a primordial Big Bang that birthed the Multiverse. Astral realm recorded the Genesis gave birth to the forces governing realities: Prime Worlds; Dimension so massively powerful in Mana (one of them eventually becomes Phantasia), Imaginary Heritages; countless celestial treasures — living or dead — in rank of its own, and finally the two mega powers of the Multiverse; the Center Force and Malice. Both Dragons and gods decent from these Imaginary Heritages. While the Primordial gods’ [Divine Core] originated as a reaction by-product of Imaginary Heritage [CHAOS], the Dragon-species were the brood of [Dravritra] in a war against its rival [Zen Long] in the early multiverse. Such biblical conflict carved the entire infantile multiverse into inhospitable Mana soup until [Zen Long] activated an Imaginary Heritage — [Edge of ADA] — to kill [Dravritra]. However, Imaginary Heritage of such magnitude self-destructed and butchered [Zen Long] who lacked qualities to wield the almighty [Edge of ADA]. The brood borne from blood of [Dravritra] and [Zen Long] scattered throughout Multiverse. [Zen Long]’s children ultimately sired the serpentine Flood Dragon and Wurms. Meanwhile, species of Hydras and Western Dragon originated from [Dravritra]. Despite their death, the strength of [Dravritra] and [Zen Long] qualified them for the throne of Primal Arcane as a series of techniques. … Rem estimated it would take centuries to master Primal Arcane with mild flavors like [Tenshou] and [Gift]. Meanwhile, volatile cocktail like [Edge of ADA] and [Dravritra] enhanced user overall performance as inactive Skill and roasted user’s physical and mental state at full activation. Horizon Dawn’s Primal Arcane was essentially endgame nuke adjusted to level LV1, treating them carelessly was suicidal. Such danger forced Melody and Luxinna to spend an entire year inventing a route to activate the nerfed version of their Primal Arcane without KO-ing themselves. Periods Melody spent to adapt her [Burning Asura Sky] into [Burning Asura: Dragon Dance]. While [Sky] converted her blood into a supercharged explosive crystal, [Dragon Dance] converted her entire body into energy reactor jumpstarted by her Mana. Unlike typical reactor that produced energy, Melody’s [Dragon Dance] existed to prime the gargantuan output of [Dravritra], minimizing her reliance on the Primal Energy that short-circuited her body. Even then, two years of fainting from over-timing [Dragon Dance] seared the risk into Melody’s psyche, hence her invention of personal Mana meter. Melody’s blood intensified with raw energy. Unstoppable power filtered through her arteries, jumpstarted by her Mana, crimson aura erupted as her power surged. Melody’s golden eyes erupted with sunset glowed as the power of her spiritual progenitor responded to her call.  “Cover me,” Luxinna created a lance of [Serene Glass] and began the summoning ritual. “No problem.” Trimegal’s six pairs of eyes glowed and released optic lasers, blowing the wreckage below the two with yields worth 24 kilotons of TNT total in six separate explosions. But a wave of flames countered the blast, efficiently dissipating the forces of those optic detonations. Fires swirled into a pair of fiery draconic wings, glittering with shinning spot of decorative solar fires. [Dravritra: Wing] Melody leapt. The replica of the forefather’s wing flapped, billowing flames and cosmic winds, rending the very earth asunder. Trimegal responded with a breath of lightning from its right head, but Melody vanished in a wing-beat before the lightning hit. As prime ancestor of dragon, [Dravritra] remained an unsurpassable wall of mystical marvel. Even as a replica wielded by a novice, its proud wings proved superior against lightning coming at 100,000 Kilometer per second. Melody outmaneuvers the torrent of lightning in a burning comet. Toxic breath from Trimegal’s left-head burnt into clean-air before the beat on the plasma wing. The demoness expertly maneuvered mid-air, U-turning into a dive-bomb at Trimegal, dispelling its tornado breadth with a single flap of her wing. The air-waved spread throughout the city as a shock-wave with such intensity it nearly blew Luxinna’s into a building. … The gust of wind didn’t stop at the corpse of Fire-quarter. No, it penetrated to the Earth-quarter. Andries reached to catch her friend from floating away like balloons meeting a monsoon. Even distance didn’t dissipate the intensity of the fight? She found it unbelievable to think these people were under S-rank. Then her eyes caught a spectacular display of magical fire-power. Was that a crimson claw-mark scarring the sky? … [Dravritra: Claw] The draconian claw severed Trimegal’s neck, searing blood-red wound into the atmosphere. A click of Solarmaria’s fingers detonated the floating mark, blowing Trimegal’s attempt to regenerate its left head to glib. Flames rained from the sky, contesting with the blizzard summoned by the artificial dragon. The scene resembled icy landscape Jotunheim mashed with the fiery hell of Muspell.  Trimegal fell to the earth, raising rock and dirt in the collision. It growled and flung a building at Melody. The demoness carved the flying multi-ton rock to reveal Trimegal’s ginormous fist. The Dragon hid a surprise attack behind the building. [Ice Punch] Normal [Ice Punch] could shatter steel and organs with a sudden temperature drop. Trimegal’s [Ice Punch] was enough to destroy military-grade flying cruiser. Melody noted the incoming punch and responded with appropriate force. [Dravritra: Scale] Melody met the punch with her ultimate defence. Trimegal’s first sent Melody, shielded by translucent crimson scale, tumbling. However, the icy crawl of the dragon pretender melted in contact with the primal ancestor’s scale. Spell-scaffolds holding Trimegal’s attack unrivaled under the majesty of [Dravritra]’s superior armor. “DIEE!!” Trimegal grabbed Melody with it crawl, radiating with corroding light, before blasting her with all its optic-lasers. However, the [Scale] tanked the damage, giving the girl opening for a counter. Melody’s hand flew. A crimson slice flashed twice. The first cut removed two fingers from the massive golem, and the second incision blinded its eyes. Melody sternly detonated the crimson wound, removing Trimegal’s middle-head and claw. The young Solarmaria grimaced at her chipped replica. What up those bones? Then she caught the image of Trimegal’s stump. It was an ancient bone laced with spell-crafting circuitry. Melody worked out Orwell’s construction method in an instant. That smart bastard must have discovered a skeleton of an ancient dragon inside the catacomb. Then, using advance Amalgam and genetic manipulation, he remodeled the organic material with World Enemy's DNA, culturing Trimegal’s body by using the bony corpses of a long dead Dragon and boatload power sourced from Spiritium crystal. Melody must give Orwell the credit. That guy was absurdly smart at exploiting a lucky windfall. DING! Melody cursed. Timer hit the warning of [Dragon Dance] over-expenditures. At least she needed to whack the crystal before she deactivated. [Breath] would likely knock her body into a permanent coma. Fine. A full power [Claw]? No. Her finger still aching from repeatedly cutting through those reinforce Ice Armor and skeleton. Melody estimated the base-dragon must be around S-rank. What a lucky bastard. Melody lifted her leg. [Dravritra: Tail] It was drop-kick landed with the force of a meteorite. The attack that pushed even Chronicler’s legendary [Trinity] to its limit.  Trimegal sensed the danger and unleashed its space-wave. The wall of fluctuation barely altered the trajectory of the earth-rending kick, but failed to slow the blow. Melody’s leg smashed into Trimegal’s shoulder, crushing the blend of gravity. Like Guillotine through meat, the kick carved through Trimegal’s armor and crimson flesh — burning the Amalgam cells before it could react with the corroding radiation — and bulldozed the ancient bones beneath to ash. Melody missed the crystal, but the attack was too broken for failures. The girl punched through Trimegal like executioner axe and annihilated the ground in a minor earthquake. Behind her, Trimegal’s right-side parted from its body — damaged beyond its regeneration to fix. “DIEEE!!!” [Ice Create: Glacial] Trimegal dropped a series of ice boulders the size of the house. The artificial dragon threw away its attempt to regenerate in favor of burying Melody Solarmaria under ice. As [Dragon Dance] faded, Melody switched to forging. The girl who only got one attack to rely on during her battle with Orwell was dead. Three years of training gave the Empress plentiful time to develop new EAPS. [Burning Asura: Nuclear Forge] Using the combination of [Heavenly Eyes], [Forging] and [Anima Enchanting], Melody developed a technique to reforge her surrounding into enchanted weapon power by consumption of matter. … Rem watched the light-show and contemplated how it developed to this point. “[Nuclear Forge]. An ability to reforge the surrounding material into a disposable enchanted weapon. Who would expect that lunatic to take my random rambling about Fullmetal Alchemist and blow invent a method to forge a Nuclear Power consumables out of brick? What can I say? Eat your heart out, Edward?” … Rocks beneath Melody reassembled into a pike decorated with orange enchanted line. Melody kicked her creation into her hand and threw it at those falling ice-bergs. The pike impaled the ice thousand times its mass. Matter combusted into energy and consumed the barrages in a super fireball. Poor Trimegal failed to escape the explosion. In a desperate gamble, it regathered its minion and meld them into a magical circle hanging overhead. Now that Trimegal lost two-heads, right-side of its body and consigned the fact its various arsenal produced no result to speak; it activated Orwell’s emergency measures. Merit where it was due, Orwell was unbelievably imaginative with the creation he slapped together on the fly. Among Orwell’s various installations, his use-this-when-you-are-screwed option took the desperate cake. It was a magical circle of Amalgam/World Enemy’s flesh — specially designed to amplify the World Enemy’s power on the scale even Melody couldn’t destroy. On this occasion, the circle was connected to the Primordial World Enemy. Once activated, an immense gravitational pulse would strike the entire area with the power to squash an S-rank. Being one of the most desperate invention Orwell ever birthed, Mehest himself hoped to never see it used. Nobody wished to directly grabbed the attention of world-consuming entity from the Malice for an instant win card. Thankfully, Orwell didn’t need to worry, because Luxinna was finally ready. There on the roof, an elf held a copy of ultimate lightning — the most destructive Imaginary Heritage ever birthed in Multiversal Genesis. [Edge of ADA] — the slayer of [Dravritra] and [Zen Long] — graced the battlefield. Yeah, poor Trimegal had an even lower survival ratios than Shyme did. … “What the hell?” Andries frightfully cowered at the five ominous, crimson magic circles floating in the sky faraway. The Inky blackness gathered at the circle like a hovering hammer of death lording her fate. Then it happened. The light. … Mjonir Zeus’s Master bolt Vajra Xiucoalt Those are infamous weapon associated with lightning. Truth was the god mass-manufactured lightning weapon for ages. Its spark of supremacy permanently seduced the god’s [Divine Core] at genetic depth. They subconsciously forged their divine superweapon in the image of the original [Edge of ADA]. [ADA] weren’t like any Primal Arcane. As Imaginary Heritages of the most absurd order—the supreme force of conceptual destruction — no half-bake catalyst could channel [Edge of ADA]. Even Hikma’s [Conceptual Seal] only produced its fragment. How could mere ceramic, glass, steel or Mana reach the forefather of lightning — the destroyer crystalized?  Wait… Isn’t there are one True Magic that created miracle material that symbolized crystalized lightning?  Yes, again, the elves were fools. Luxinna and her [Static Glass] was the only combination in the Multiverse able to master [Edge of ADA] and endured its raw power. But, the sixteen-year-old Luxinna using [ADA] was like an LV13 character equipping LV1000 weapon. She got [ADA] in her inventory, but she was too under-level to pull its power out. Good news, unlike [Dravritra], [ADA] was a weapon. Luxinna didn’t need to channel it, only activate and swing. However, activating [ADA] opened the floodgate of power Luxinna couldn’t even tolerate with her [Overdrive]. Hence, the elf spent three years developing her [Overdrive] into a new technique — [Overflow] [Overflow] removed her natural limiter quick burst, unlike [Overdrive]’s enhanced state. If [Overdrive] is a marathon [Overflow] was a jump. While this evolution didn’t increase her raw-power, it allowed the elf to instantly shifted her attack gear and physical ability in split-semi seconds. This sudden acceleration could throw the fight’s rhythm in her favors. To an outsider, the elf will disappear mid-combat in a flash of lightning and reappeared instantaneously with an impaled opponent. Luxinna’s caliber with limit break reached the point where she could rapid-fire [Overflow] back-to-back with the speed of Cow-boy’s quick-drawing and Iai-practitioner’s precision. [Overflow] allowed Luxinna to plan all her action pre-activation and executed faster than even [Overdrive]. For [ADA], the elf essentially used the LV1000 overkiller within split-seconds between activation and forced unequip. A single attack with [ADA] would utterly exhaust Luxinna, but the result was spectacular. 5 circles of doomed floated in the sky. The cloud of darkness inside hymned ominously. For the elf holding the shattering staff of glass, those creations of corrupted flesh seemed like a target. Finally, after an agonizing wait, the staff in her hand cracked into an indescribable white bolt brighter than Relativistic Jets of a Blackhole. The bolt arced with white celestial sparks as she lifted the fluid instrument of devastation. The elf’s brain telegraphed the order the moment Luxinna’s limit broke. The attack would execute no matter what happened to her. Her arm already swung the weapon with pre-activated order as her mind and body blanked out. Trimegal wailed as it witnessed the dimension cracking, unleashing the wrath of Dawn. [Edge of ADA] Six lightning bolts fell from the sky as ordered by the supreme ruler of thunder. Lightning large enough to reduce an entire Taipei 101 into a smoking carbon fell on Orwell’s kit-bash doomsday magic and the false Dragon. The circles of World Enemy’s fleshed burnt to fundamental particles — its Eldritch power annihilated at the bond holding them together. Trimegal’s towering height ate the bolt and instantly carbonized at its DNA. No armor of Ice or para-causal force could prevent its flesh from degrading beyond recognition. What remained of the perfectly dead Amalgam fell to earth in an unrecognizable charcoal. … Those lightnings knocked Andries and her fellow spectators flying. No amount of friction spell could stop the raw wind of that grand discharge. As the blinding thunder subsided, Melody lighted the flare, declaring their victory. By the time duke daughter got up, she witnessed the most wonderful of sight. That day the entire Venistalis witnessed an overkill that relighted an undying hope. The symbol of a man embracing the sun asserted its dominance on the corpse of Orwell’s dragon.

Illma climbed out of the mountain of debris to see total carnage. The crash-landing dragon reduced the left side of her brand new homes into wreckages. Evil spirits flew rampant everywhere. This situation was far worse than it sounded. At best the malevolent ghosts would inflict fatigue, at worse it could suck the life out of anyone without protection. Its mere presence docked away much more of their shaken morale. Then there was the dragon. Illma was lucky it didn’t land on top of her. Right now, the wounded beast howled in rage and set everything in sight on fire. Dark red blood painfully flowed from its wound as it set aflame any solider that wasn’t already running for their lives. Illma must admit she was getting backed into the corner. The most embarrassing thing was that she got reduced to this mess when the fight barely started. Suddenly, she heard a clattering noise. Illma looked behind her to see the struggling Port running away. Her mouth twitched into a grim smile. She wasn’t out yet. …. The dragon could barely see straight. All it could feel was heaviness and pain. The It right eye was gone, so was its sense for the richness of the skies or its mighty tails. The monster needed power. It raged, thirsting for sustenance that could prolong its life. The one-wing lizard chewed into a metallic cyborg that was too hard to be healthy. Weaken spells ricocheted of its penetrable shells. Things shouldn’t be like this. In its head, the dragon would rise from the ground, burn everything in front of it, and consume the charred corpse to sate its endless hunger. Instead, reality sent that ant with the cursed sword to drag its down from the sky. The beast roared at the moon for this injustice. As if summoned, the wrathful spirit gravitated toward the creature, diving inside it and giving it strength. If the sky wanted to pull it down, then the Ghost dragon would tear the sky asunder. … On a distant building, a certain goddess threw her triumphant fist into the sky. “We did it?” Cytortia cheered. “Rem brought it down right on top of that bitch. God, that is so satisfying.” Melody sat cross-legged behind her, meticulously assembling a pile of sophisticate looking harpoon. She handled her screwdriver with exceptional precision. The entire team spent weeks working on these artifacts. Even Rem reduced himself into the role of a chef, and drink delivering the boy to get the project done on time. Sweat trickled down her brows. If she messed this up after that annoying bastard's performance, everyone would and should murder her. Click! Melody dropped her screw-driver. It was a success. The demoness turned toward the elf in a female version of Ebony’s issued Horizon Dawn's uniform. “Everything’s ready,” The demoness tossed her ten shafts of designer-grade harpoons. “Don’t screw up.” Luxinna investigated the weapons with dread. She was there when Rem explained the plan; this was their aces in the holes. “F-U3 and F-U4 are in here right,” Luxinna said. “So I have to get close enough to the dragon and impaled the dragon right at its gaping wound.” Melody nodded. The nature of Rem’s plan was a step-by-step attack. Each step would either slay the dragon or crippled it further. Personally, Melody thought it was overkill, but seeing the dragon first-hand convinced her otherwise. With Rem successfully implementing F-U1, taking away the dragon flight, injured it, and dropped in on Illma, a victory seemed to be only a hurdle away. Sadly, that wasn’t the case. Across Millian, emergency speakers came to life with a bone-chilling voice vibrating across the air. “This is Illma Zoldia Road! I enact my authority as an Untouchable to issue an Emergency Deployment Charter! All adventurer in the town is now duty-bound to follow my mission directive. I, at this very moment, put a 50 million credit bounty on that dragon. Whoever brings its body to me in one piece will be handsomely rewarded and will personally get my endorsement for any position they so desire. Now get going!” The communication tower cut off, taking their taste of victory with it. “Okay,” Cytortia looked at her fellow accomplice. “What just happen?” It was the badger who answered that. “Illma just counterattack. She uses her authority as Seven Continental Alliance’s representative to order a compulsory command from the adventurer guide. She put a bounty on the dragon that any members in Millian the Adventurer Guide’s membership must accept.” “So she just calls back-up from all-over Millian?” Cytortia had a bad feeling. “Isn't this mean we have more people to help take down the dragon?” Scathach signed. “More like dying to take out the dragon,” Scathach explained, slumping with each word. “Even injured, fully-grown Sicilian Ghost Dragon is still A-rank. It might not be the strongest A-rank, but it’s still more than any average adventurer team can handle. Usually, the guide needs to approve this request, come up with a stage-by-stage operational plan, and delegated each step according to the member’s rank. However, this is impossible with Aion removed from his post. Instead of a well-coordinated mission, the adventure will attack in mobs.” Luxinna sulked. “It'll be a massacred,” the elf said. The badger didn't mention it, but the elf knew there was another factor. Luxinna lived in the forest for long enough to know that animals will fight each other for meats. She would gamble her left arm and say that those adventurers would backstab each other for the bounty at the first opportunity. “Hey, I know this sounds bad,” Cytortia said, looking disturbed. “But do we have to stop all of them? We're already down by one. Trying to fight Illma, the dragon, and the adventurer isn’t part of the plan. I can’t risk you guys over that.” The nation isn't you, or the land or the stupid throne, but the people. “No,” Melody could barely recognize her voice. “We are here to defend Millian. This town is not the buildings around us or the land, but its people, its culture. And also the adventurers who don't know any better." Melody got up. “We split up. The elf goes with the plan, and I will try to stop those idiots.” “Do you think they will listen?” Luxinna stood, fully intend to go all-in for the cause. “Probably not, but I have to try.” “But with Rem went down?” Cytortia said. “Who's in command now?” Everyone looked at the goddess. “Rem said it would be you,” Scathach said. “I originally thought he was high when he said it, but it technically made sense. Horizon Dawn is your faction above all.” “Are you serious?” “Sadly, yes.” Cytortia cried. They were so screwed. … Rem would agree with Cytortia’s line of thinking. The crash-landing hurt, but the voice took the cake. [Eas End]'s curses attacked the boy's head so badly he got reduced exhausted, confused wreckage. Thankfully, he was still conscious; in pain but conscious. Rem hobbled from the wreckage and helped himself to an abandoned inn. Noticing the liquor lined up on the shelves, he opened his Cytortia’s issue wallet, slammed a banknote on the table, and took a non-alcoholic cider from the shelves. He turned to find a familiar man in an annoying white suit. “Sups loser,” REM said. “You look like a mess.” Rem didn’t reply. Instead, he stumbled to his imaginary nemesis and lost his lunch on said bastard shoes. REM stood speechless at that offense. “Holding that back for a while,” said the nauseated Rem, who quickly slumped down on the nearest chair and popped a healing-tablet into his mouth. “Thank you, Captain Obvious, for telling me that I am a mess. Now what? Do you want to sing me a eulogy?” REM’s mouth twitched. He already got physically reduced to a Ping-Pong ball by this man for an entire month. He sure as hell won’t tolerate a verbal beating on top of that. “Well, congratulation, I believe you are smart enough to know that I can use any weapon you summoned with [Arrival of Dream]. Now I have [Eas End] and [Desolator Blade], and you, my boy, got a healthy dose of Center Force gnawing on your cell. How does it feel to be slowly converted to an executioner of justice, Remus?" Rem drank the cider down maliciously and brutally committed verbal murder on his counterpart. “Well, congratulation, you won jack-all. Do you think I am as stupid as you are? What you get today is an overspecialized meat cleaver that will reduce you to this mentally constipated mess insulting you right now. Good luck using it. It's practically unusable against anything that isn’t a dragon. I'm pleased that you think I am a flying, fire-breathing lizard, but I recommend you pick a more useful degree than Gender Studies.” REM’s mouth twitched, but he couldn’t refute the facts, so he decided to ignore it and refocused another attack avenue. “Yes, but you heard the announcement, right?” Rem spoke as he disappeared. “As incompatible as we are, I also fought for justice. Things aren’t looking good, you know. [Eas End] completely demolished your brain’s chemistry; no need to mention the state of your Magic and coordination. With Illma Road sending the entire Millian on a suicide mission, how do you plan to get out of this?” Rem stayed silent. “Wait,” REM suddenly realized something as he faded to nothingness. “You didn’t expect Illma to launch Emergency Charter?” Rem sighed.  “Sadly, no,” Rem admitted. “Illma completely blindsided me on that one.” REM disappeared with an ugly frown. A second later, the boy slammed his fist on the table. The situation was turning bleak. Illma threw the battle side-ways. The battlefield about to be turned into a free-for-all. The dragon, although crippled, was still loose. Meanwhile, he couldn’t do anything but hope that Cytortia could hold the fort together until he got back to the board. Rem groaned. This gonna suck. … The dragon bashed a leopard-like robot into another brick house. Its mouth opened, releasing the fire that sent several heavy-weight X-cution units up in flame. Although the fire-resistant armors and magical shielding blocked the flame's heat, the soul attack still killed the shell of the children inside, leaving a decommission pile of burning metal wherever the fire brushed past. Illma took the loss badly. How could her father's life-work fell this quickly? Why hadn’t the fire-proofing countermeasure activated? The girl stood on behind the ruin of her base, screaming and throwing a fit at everyone in sight. “I want that useless trash to assemble as fast as they can!” She screeched. “Double the speed and shove that dragon to the town center! Tell them to surround this dragon on all side and bring it down!" “Erm, Lady Road,” Mayor Port trembled under pressure. “The center of the town is our most populated area, and we didn't evacuate it yet. The damage will be horrific!” Illma was furious. “Do you think I care!” Illma screamed hysterically. “Move it this instant!” … Cytoritia nervously watched the X-cution threw themselves at the dragon only to get obliterated. Most of the Illma's men were already fleeing for their lives. She couldn't blame them since both her and Scathach were also hunkering down and weighing the situation. Cytortia gulped. The dragon walked through all the attack like it was walking through a shower. So far, only Rem alone did some lasting damage. Scathach's instinct rang. Something wasn't right; then it hit her. “Shit,” the badger watched the dragon squashed another cyborg to smithereens, and tanked a swarm of missiles from a flying X-cution model. “Illma's pushing the dragon toward the town's center. Even by an Untouchable's standard, this is a massive breach of etiquette." Cytortia turned grimed and took out a compact little ball. Horizon Dawn spent three-day and two-night working on this little thing for one purpose extinguishing the dragon's fire but was it the time. “F-U2?” She asked the badger. The badger took account of the damage while the dragon burned the flying X-cution into a ball of flame. Illma bought about 36 X-cution units with her. The Sicilian Ghost Dragon decommissioned at least 15 of them in this last thirty minutes. They originally planned to launch F-U2 when the number dropped under a half. However, with the situation spinning out of control, Scathach believed an alteration must commence. “Yes,” Scathach agreed. “But we need to get in position.” “Position?” Cytortia looked puzzled. “What position?” Scathach looked at the shopping mall in the distance, particularly at its incredibly tall and ornate spires. “Oh, I have a perfect place in mind.” Cytortia didn’t like her tone one bit. … An army of adventurers slowly amassed in the distance as they hurriedly marched into the carnage. Not many of them were used to this predicament. Older mercenary recalled the fact that there should be several instructions from the guide by this time. The newer blood, on the other hand, suspected nothing with the reward of glory and riches clouding their brain. “Hey old man, why are we teaming up with these clowns?” One random young man said to his elderly leader. “Isn’t it better for us to hog the dragon for ourselves?” “Are you an idiot?” The old man whispered. “Do you think you can take a dragon alone? This operation is a mob crusade. You guys have one job, conserving your strength for the actual fight. I don’t believe there is a dragon that can handle this many attackers. It’s dead for sure. The real problem is who would be left alive to take the glory.” Behind them, another group of adventurers finalized their plan. “When the dragon dies, we have to turn on the other groups as fast as possible. Make sure to save yourself first, okay,” A young man with a battle-scars across his face said to his too companion. “Cheer up, dude,” said a scantily cladded woman next to him. “We’re going to kill the other anyway, at least let have fun until then.” The youngest member of the trio couldn’t help but felt disturbed by her companion flippant attitude about the entire fiasco. “Aren’t you two afraid?” The fourteenth years-old boy said in confusion. “We are about to fight a dragon, and then backstab everyone here! Isn’t this sound like a massively terrible idea?” The scantily cladded woman snorted. “You are new to this, aren’t you bro?” The woman explained. “This kind of thing happens every day. People are going to die. We're going to get rich. It’s the way of the world.” Suddenly, a wall of fire rose to obstruct the group. A scarlet-hair woman walked through the flame, facing the mob with the face sterner than a brick wall. “Sorry,” Melody said. “None of you is going to die today. You won’t get paid for killing the dragon because Illma will be in no position to pay you. And the way of the world can go and hang itself.”

"This is bad," Rem flopped down--defeated. Night had fallen. Any semblance of sunlight had long disappeared. The tint of the forest's magical light suspended above the ground like glowing snow. These little illuminations were the only leverage the boy had among the bothersome darkness. Rem already suffered for a straight one kilometer, and he was never good at running. "This operation is a party of clusterfucks," Rem leaned against a trunk of a moss-cover tree, complaining to himself. "What am I thinking? No planning. No back-up. No risk-assessment. It's a miracle I make it this far." With only throwing blades and swizz-army knife as his resource, Rem knew he was a brink from eating dirt. If he survived, this crappy piece of adventure would make quite a cautionary tale. In that state of loss, Rem considered his option. He could wait and hope, or struggle in vain to look for his lost back-ups. The stoic boy took one second to decide. He would rest here until his feet stop its unending grievance before flipping the bird at the ugly face of defeat. After all, that would be what Superman does. "HELP!" Scream a familiar voice. "Help me!" Rem was tempted to shriek Eureka. It appeared Murphy finally decided to take pity on him. Now he needed her attention. Rem took out his swizz-army knife. It was rectangular, decently weight and perfectly balanced as all things should be. He tossed the black plastic-clad tool up and down playfully. Then he threw it at the goddess who was running around like a headless chicken. One of the first things Rem learn from his short time with Scathach was the difference between Skill and Magic. Magic was the power to convert Mana to work depending on the user attribute, while skill was a crystallization in the mastery of their art. Rem's skill, [Knife Throwing (D)], was the evidence Rem's ability to throw sharp-object was graduating from the realm of humanity. Days spent under Scathach's brutality scribed raw precision and technique into his muscle's memory, creating the skill within his subconscious itself. Under its influence, Rem could predict a moving target path and nailed it with a knife. While Cytortia was fast, she was as equally predictable. The mass of plastic and metal flew in a long arc and landed on the flailing goddess with a successful clang. The goddess fell over, clutching her head in tears. That wasn't the end. The goddess's momentum wouldn't allow the girl to stop gracefully. Cytortia inevitably toppled into a wheel of pain and rising dust cloud before ramming into a tree and coming to rest. Cytortia twitched twice and went rabid. Today ordeal reduced her clothing into a shabby mess. Her moderately pretty face was dirty and puffy from all the tripping and crying. "What the hell, Rem?!" The goddess yelled. "I need to get your attention." "You have a better way than throwing stuff at me, right!?" "Would you stop and listened otherwise?" Cytortia clenched her hand in rage and punched Rem in the face with all the strength she could muster. Rem did not see that coming. ... Finally, at long last, and few punches, the goddess and her buddy came with a practical strategy. Finding Luxinna again with the World Enemy on the loose was impossible, Rem suggested they should locate and took out the World Enemy first. It was a plan which sent a shiver down Cytortia's spine. Cytortia protested for a solid thirty minutes, but after calling elder Avar only to hit a voice message, the goddess was desperate. The fact that the livelihood of one certain elf girl was still up in the air only increased her stress-level. However, the deal-breaker would be the eyes of Rem that sent an invisible pressure crushing on her head. In the end, the goddess moaned out a frustrated cry to heaven and surrendered. Both Rem and Cytortia drank from the Cleanser the goddess kept. Using her skill, the goddess directed toward the two-man team toward the highest mana concentration in the area. Meanwhile, Rem was reading the goddess Status ID. ... Cytortia Heavenly daughter of Wood  Stat Str: 120 [E] End: 300 [D] Magic: 375 [C] Wisdom: 240 [D] Dexterity: 120 [E] Skill Active Nature Magic [C] Healing Master [A] Alchemy [S]  Tactical Retreat [A] Animal Communication [B] Passive Goddess Origin [SS] Divinity [A] Wood Affinity [SSS] ... Rem felt the silver of doubt crept upon him. His power-level, the sum of his stat, was only 1000. The cowardly goddess in front of him had a power-level of 1155. Cytortia was a solid 155 point above him, and she still ran like a bitch against the World Enemy. Rem looked ahead. Now that he got time to think. Is this worth it? He was about to pick a fight with a monster who took an entire nation three tries and sky-high price to defeat. Every result Rem foresaw told him, he was in to get painfully tore apart limbs from limbs in a messy death. Even if he survived, there was a price he had to pay to defeat such a monster. The prospect of that price sent a cold, wet touch of fear trickling down his collarbone. In front of him, the goddess sensed his hesitation. She knew this would be her last chance to get out of this disaster. She would not let this go. It was a battle for survival, and Cytortia wanted to live. "Chuang's and Tai Hua's power-level when at their awakening was 1500 and 1600 respectively," Cytortia said, clinging desperately for survival while looking hopelessly at the ground. "Their current power is at least quadruple that value. We are puppies in front of them, yet, even they won't fight against a World Enemy under these circumstances!" Rem listened. He admitted Cytortia had a point even with fear choppily coated her reasoning. Of course, a girl who was a bully-victim all her life would cow away from adversity. It was an ingrained survival instinct to run from a predator. "Do you understand how hopeless this is now?" Cytortia looked at Rem. The white of panic was transparent in her eyes. "Rem, you must see that worm fighting Scathach, right? That's nothing compared to World Enemy! They are a monster so powerful we have to assemble an army to win! Rem, nobody asked you to do this, and even then, it is not worth it. We will die! Both of us!" Rem breathed, summoning a single image into his mind and put his foot forward with all his will power. Someone did ask him to do this. Cytortia bit her lips at her plea ineffectiveness. She needed to try harder. The air tensed against the cocktail of emotion as the goddess's face turn dark before she spoke with trembling lips. "Don't you get it? I know Luxinna might fall into their palm already. But it is only a chance? Are we walking to die for a tiny possibility? J...Just wait for Scathach! She will fix everything! The elves already assembled an army! I am sure of it. Isn't it better to fight when every back-up has arrived." In a land of black sky and red poppies, a ten-year-old version of Rem Breaker agreed with that statement. Rem stood stiffly, the balls of light in the celestial forest reflected from his eyes. The animalistic instinct to glee fought with his courage under the act of calmness. He breathed gradually, slowly forcing his foot to move. Rem thought about an old elf waiting and hoping that everything would work out. That possibility fueled his willpower. Rem moved another foot past the goddess. He noticed how the speck of white-bark managed to sneak past the moss cover trees. Strangely, he couldn't help but compare that image to his heart. Just how much emotion he had to cover up until he got everything done.  Cytortia was right. He had no chance. The probability of him living through this mess was as likely as high as the chance of an ordinary man trying to stop a train barehanded. Another imagination surfaced--a sad incarnation of good looking dejectedly over the burning multiverse. That pushed him one more step.  "Rem! Listen to me! What you are doing was not bravery?! It is the height of stupidity! You think you are a hero! Heroes are the lapdogs who join Chuang and Tie Hua and murder for them! Please come back! Let those lunatics take the glory! Our life was not worth it!" That wasn't true. Rem thought, soldiering against the enticement to surrender.  'Heroes' would join them, but 'he' wouldn't. He would be there at the impasse between the two armies--the greatest bulwark against total anarchy. A figure of hope who flew in the blue sky. A fictional hero created during men's darkest hour to never let us down.   What would he say in this situation? There a right and a wrong in this universe. And that distinction is not hard to make. The boy took three steps forward. He glanced at the sky. The night was dark and overwhelming, but maybe tomorrow would better. The sun would always break the darkness. Perhaps that light of dream and freedom would shatter the veil of hopelessness and opened up a new future. Rem gave a content smile. His emotion wasn't wholly there, but he didn't need it. Everyone deserved to be free, including that idiot elf. Luxinna Drakokia might be perfectly safe. But what if she wasn't? Ignoring that possibility wasn't something he would have done. Reality was a bitch, but that didn't give him the entitlement to pity party. If a girl got pinned under a fallen building, her resue is the priority. The consequence came later. Rem was not the hero he wanted to be. That hero was the highest aspiration of hope in human form. But, unlike most of humanity, Rem understood the difficulty of that code chose to follow it anyway. Now, it was time to prove he meant it. Cytortia could only look in awe as the hesitating boy took a step to steady himself and marched fearlessly to his doom.  Everything she was seeing defy her understanding. Rem was afraid. He knew the possibilities were uncheatable and irreversible. Despite that, he was willing to risk it all for a girl he met today. No one in her life would do this, not without expecting any reward. "How are you doing this?" Throughout Cytortia's life, she retreated from obstacles. A part of her even agreed with Magnolia that justice was a deadman's path. The existence of four senior sisters with too much power influenced her to prioritize survival above all else.  "Because it is the right thing," Rem said. "I only ask myself what would Superman do, that's all. Even if she is not there, I still have to be sure." The mission was suicidal, but the spine of that boy was not that of a fool. Mortality fell both naive and cruel, but real optimism stood proud against it. The boy, armed with nothing but throwing blades, swizz-army knife, and the ideal of the Superhero marched to face a monster meant to fight with an army. "Who or what is Superman?" Cytortia muttered as she blindly stumbled after him. .... "Oh my god, " Cytortia said when the two finally arrived at the target area. Rem breathed a sigh of relief; he made the right choice. Rem reaffirmed his resolved. Like it or not, his time finally arrived. The place was hell. Toxic green canal divided the two from floors of purple thorn and army of corrupted creatures. The Paracis Corrupter--a bubbling, disgusting lotus--sat above the green waterfall. Tentacles spread around the World Enemy's purple petal and pointed at the two invading. Its black maw and teeth opened wide, exuding a stench and pressure that choked the life out of the air. Beneath the monster lotus was Luxinna herself.  The elf's clothing now resembled burnt rags. Red and purple electrical current boiled across her skin. Her eyes were animalistic white, devoided of pupil or rationality. Green infested flesh covered her back like a cloak of rashes. The infestation also spread down her arms, coating a layer of nauseous armor over her arm, growing demonic claws from her fingers, and cladding her legs and feet in spikes. Black tentacle brandished from her back, ready to strike at any moment. "Rem, this is bad," Cytortia hid behind Rem. "The infestation on her was already past halfway toward the first stage." Rem nodded. The time constraint meant that calling for Scathach's help wasn't possible. "Cy, please hand me the cure," Rem said, suppressing the terror from his voice. The army of creatures-- a twisted gathering of bears, wolves, and deers malformed by the black tentacles--growled as Rem accepted the vial on hope. It was a bottle symbolizing the hopelessness of the fight against the world. Rem smiled thinly. In the face of life and death, this vail seemed to shine a little lighter. The creature inched forward. "Rem you had a plan, right?" Cytortia said, panicking. Rem did not answer. His mind was too busy elsewhere. ... A manifestation of Remus Breaker walked among the chalk-color ground. Petal of poppies rose around him in a harmonious crescendo. The black still air sky was as calm and resolute as his resolved. In front of him stood a majestic white tower and two figures barring his way. 'Go back,' the younger Rem clenched his fist in fear, mustering all his courage to face against the older Rem. 'You should know what going through with this means.' "I know." 'This is insanity!' "We will die if we don't," Rem expression was both resolved and resigned as he came face-to-face with his terrified younger version.   'That is better than what would happen to us if you cut the deal!' The younger self cried, punching Rem with all the power he had. It was the vain attempt of reality trying to reject hope. Such a bubble could only fight against the dream and determination of mankind for so long. It was like how wishes to reach the star led to the invention of the space shuttle. Rem caught the boy by the wrist and threw him to the side. The younger Rem helplessly sprawled and glared back at him. With an anguished scream, he roared. 'Are you even a human? Where is your self-preservation? Where is your intelligence? Are you willing to burn forever for the people you don't even know? There has to be a limit to your delusion!" Rem turned to look toward the boy. "What separate you from an animal if not for that delusion?" Rem replied. The boy immediately stopped talking. "Homo-Sapiens can talk and communicate, unlike animals," Rem looked down at his younger self, and for once, he was angry. "Aside from that, what part of you is better than pig or cockroach if you prioritize your happiness and ego to the point you are willing to forsake your ideal and duty as human-being? Doing the right thing is hard and unrewarding, but if you think you can have free stuff while letting evil reign, then the barrier separating society from a jungle will come crashing down. My patience is running low, so let me be clear. We are not bitches. So shut that speech from the entitled dog-ate-dog part of your brain. Are we clear?" The boy stared dejectedly at the ground, shivering from fear. Rem turned to face the second person blocking him. A girl with rainbow-color hair, a sharply angled face, and the dress made of white fires looked at him with the eyes of awe and concern. She had told him the only way forward, but she had never believed he had the strength to follow through with this. 'Are you sure?' She whispered eyes widen with both admiration and grudging respect. 'There is no known way to undo this contract.' Rem reminiscent back toward to the time the girl in front of him told him the only method for him to wield his mightiest power. It was the path toward [Arrival of Dream]. ... Note: Cytortia's Alchemy was derived from Poison-Concoction [C], Phase Manipulation [A], Identification [A], Substances Processing [S]

It was dark. There wasn't any shed of light in this place. An elf girl laid submerged in the darkness. Her sky-blue eyes had faded into a color of brittle of ice. "My little Luxinna, you will accomplish great things and bring pride to our name." That was what her father used to say. She could barely imagine how his prideful smile could twist into such a sneer of disgust. The time she wanted to make him proud--to be recognized as his daughter--was now a broken tragic memory. It was a gravestone in the derelict of the past. That day, inside the jade hall with the gathering elven lords, was the day she lost everything. 'May the council adjourned, and judge of spirit gathers. Five out of Seven hands raised. The sentence has passed. Luxinna Drakokia, by the council's will, for the crime of heresy, you are stripped of your inheritance and title. You shall never set a foot into Lightwell again on pain of death. You are now dead in our eyes.' 'Why? Father! What have I done?! Please...' said the ghost of twelve-year-old Luxinna. 'Silence,' said the ghostly voice of Lucian. 'No child of mine is a witch.' ... The forest was burning. Rem blocked another lightning bolt. Internal pain rippled through his body. Still, he gritted his teeth and cut off one of Luxinna's tentacles with a flick of his blade using all the training Scathach drilled into him. The corrupted girl growled. Two more tentacles sprouted from her back. Rem steadied his breathing; the mutation was getting worse. They either finish this or sank like Titanic. The cure in his hand sparkled. The fire behind him highlighted his declining stamina emptied for the final exchange. Electricity charged the elf's tentacles before striking out at the boy. Rem returned the fire with a conical blast of sandstorms. The clashes between the two sent the tentacles smashed into the ground in a cloud of dust and purple vapor.  'Master, your body can't support this much overexertion,' Central cried. 'Your delirium is approaching a critical level. If you go beyond this, it won't end with a simple coma.' Rem ignored the warning as he fought back the electrified tentacles with his conical barrier. The desperation of a man with his back against the wall dangerously pushed Rem's tolerance past its limit for a shot at survival. Rem batted waved more bolts out of his way. His vision turned blurry, but he was able to time his charge. It was a shaky and pathetic dash, but in a small miracle, he successfully weaved past the animalistic tentacles to Luxinna.  Rem fueled a final burst of strength to land a tackle. The blow broke Luxinna's barrier of ionized air and finally reached the elf. But after that act, Rem's leg nearly folded as his stamina depleted. His world lost its color, and his weapon started to fade. The corrupted grinned in triumph as she plunged her talon in his shoulder. Talon pierced Rem's chainmail and drew his blood. Luxinna crackled with glee, but she then noticed the boy's satisfied smile. His blade was sticking out of the girl's thigh. The [Desolator Blade] vanished a second later, but the wound created by an imaginary dagger remained in reality as the mark of triumph. Finally, using the strength he shouldn't have, Rem brought the bottle of cleanser down on the corrupted elf's head. The act shattered the bottle and let the content out all over the corrupted girl. He fainted where he stood after that final blow. His eyes closed as he passed the baton over to his matron. Hopefully, she would finish what he started. ... This place was even darker now. "Older Sister, you want to be a knight?" said the smiling elven girl. What did I answer her? Why did I think about this? It should be significant, so why couldn't I remember. The girl was asking herself these questions as the stake of darkness impaled her body. Yes, it wasn't important now. It was not necessary anymore, not since that day. "At least let me see Mag before I go!" "I am sorry," said the guard. "Lady Magnolia cannot--" "Escort her out at once," said the cold voice of her father. "She has wasted enough of my food and effort for this lifetime." She remembered getting dragged and thrown out with nothing behind her back. The rage. The regret. The shame. What had she done to deserve this? There was no fairness or justice. Why did she even cling to this memory in the first place? Living in this painful world wasn't worth it. A sweet voice whispered in her ear. It told her to let it go. Just burn it all. This evil world didn't deserve to exist. If those monsters refused her right to exist, then they should all suffer for their sins. She had nothing to lose anyway. Luxinna's hand crept toward the voice, but out of nowhere, a hand clad in light caught her by the wrist. "Whew," said a voice that was kind and wise but incredibly sad. "Right in the nick of time." ... Cytortia couldn't take it anymore. She bought all the time she could, but the Paracis finally wrestled all the authority over the area from her. Rem fainted on the floor like a broken doll and left a rabid Luxinna for the goddess. On the waterfall, the Paracis flexed its control over the massive natural Mana. An accountable number of tentacles emerged from the ground and the toxic spring like a curtain of hell. Every limb dripped with the purple toxin. Meanwhile, the monster's maw glowed red with an energy blast aiming directly at the goddess. With tears in her eyes, the young goddess mustered her courage to stare at the face of death. Thankfully for her, death was forced to take the vacation. ... The darkness screamed as it burned from Satholia's presence. Slowly, the queen of Center Force helped the elf up from the nightmare. "Who are you?" The elf looked blankly at the white entity. "I am Satholia. Nice to meet you," she smiled warmly. " I come to get you out of here." "Why?" The elf looked confused as she stared back to the ground dejectedly. Luxinna tearfully tucked herself into a ball. Her voice wearied from loss and betrayal. She couldn't hold onto anything--a black-hole of wishes that would never clam too. "Everyone betrayed me?" Luxinna cried. "My sister walked out on me. My father tried to get me executed. Everyone threw me away ever since I got these powers. Now I got to watch powerlessly as my father and sister burnt everything else. What do I have to live for at this point?" "Are you sure you have nothing?" "Stop it with the pep talk. I already have enough loss this entire life. I don't want to fight anymore! Get out!"  Satholia bent down and hugged the lashing elf. "What you saw is a heavily edited illusion. Trust me, Luxinna, the world is not as bad as you think it is?" The elf slowly broke down on the shoulder of the embodiment of all good this world had to offer. "What should I do now?" The girl closed her eyes tight as tears trickled down. "Why I am even doing this?" "Because you haven't given up," the goddess gave her a sad yet understanding smile. "Here, let me show you the real deal." Satholia's eyes turned red as she cast her spell, showing the elf the hope that defined her. The world turned into a rainbow milky-way. ... A vibrant image coalesced. It was a nine years old Luxinna and her sister Magnolia. The two children sat under a massive tree, The Evergreen. Around them, elves children were playing tag among the green grasses of the Paradise of Light. Massive cedar-city surrounded the little paradise, separated by a ring of pure, sparkling water. Butterflies fluttered above the two elves children looking up at the open sky. "Sis, you want to be a knight?" Said the girl with lilac color eyes, her head cocked in confusion. "But aren't you the heiress?" "Come on, Mag," the young Luxinna laughed. "Do you think I can succeed father? You must know I hate that office. My place is right here, looking at the skies and playing with everyone in the sun. Hey, do you remember the stories Eva told us? The one about the adventuring knight rescuing a princess from a dragon. Maybe I will be that knight someday. How cool do you think I will look, Mag?" "Father said those stories are ridiculous, sis." Magnolia interrupted at the starry eyes Luxinna with a deadly serious one. "But I agree, if you take over, it will be the death of us." "That's why I will be a knight," Luxinna yelled toward the sky. "Just wait for my Awakening. My magic will be so awesome even Dragons and Vampires will tremble in my wake! One day, I will even save the entire world!" The young Magnolia smiled thinly as she look-up at the sister who never lost her optimism. "Hey sis, if I am in danger, would you come to save me too." The adorable little sister broke the silence. "Of course, a real hero will save everyone!" little girl declared, raising her fist toward the sun. "And I will be the greatest one ever!" ... Witnessing the memory, the fifteen years' old Luxinna blinked. The battered darkness screamed, flailing powerlessly in the light of hope. "Was I...really like that?" "Everyone was like that once, but we grew out of it," Satholia nodded sadly. "But did we grow up? Or did we actually degrade? Is it time to look back at our more hopeful younger self with pride instead of shame? In my humble opinion, that old-fashion big dream is the greatest thing we ever created. The world only needed a reminder of why it is great to dream big." "I am abandoned by everyone?" Luxinna muttered, her tears were welling up. "I am sorry to let you down, but the girl with that dream is already long gone." "Still want to take a bet with me?" Satholia smiled teasingly. "Sorry, but you are wrong, not everyone cast you out." A light surged to kick the darkness in the face again. ... It was a trial held in the balcony of white wood overlooking the stage like a sacred judge's stand. The jade-color light illuminated alcoves circling the girl inside the wooden cage. Multiple blue and white banners of historical testament adorned this proud court. The elf behind a white banner of tree and river addressed the jury. "I, Lucian Drakokia, hereby announce the trail of Luxinna of House Drakokia under the charge of-" "Shut up, Lucian!" sniped the elderly elves inside an alcove to the right. "This trial is a farce, and you know it. I won't permit you to execute my grandniece." "She is born into my house with deadly magic never seen before among our kind, Lord Balder," Lucian said. "As Lord of Lightwell, We are duty-bound to protect the elven-kind against any potential threat--even if it is my flesh and blood." Balder outrageous glared around the room. "Potential threat!" He slammed his fist into the wall. "Shame on all of you! A political enemy, I understand! Executing a rogue agent is still acceptable. But this! Calling a twelve years old girl a threat! How can you reach such a new level of low, Lucian!?"  "May I speak Lord Balder." Another elderly elf spoke up. "Oh go on, Alusto," Balder said, fed-up with the whole affair. "I know what you are going to say, but entertain me anyway." Alusto straightened himself, pumping-up for a speech. "It's true that the state won't benefit from the execution of Luxinna Drakokia," Alusto announced. "But the girl, the devil before us, possess destructive magic alien to the creative ability of our kind. It is the power of a demon and-" "The power of demons?" Balder snorted, throwing a copper coin at Alusto's head. "That is how much I gave to your pathetic excuses. I don't care if she could summon abomination from the void, much less a bolt of lightning. She is my brother's granddaughter. I will protect her as an elf-lord and her grandfather. Screw your excuses, this trail is a sham, and I will not see it pass if I can help it." The little Luxinna choke back a sob. "About that, Lord Balder," said one female elf on another podium. "Elves, especially the nobles, are gifted with spirit-art talent and natural affinity to Nature or Water. Luxinna Drakokia has none of this thing." "I don't think I make it clear enough, Selina. So let me repeat. I. Don't. Care." "There is no point, Balder," Lucian announced. "We have already validated the evidence in advance, and the verdict already passed a long time ago. You alone can't stop the execution." "Pass in a secret trail rigged by this sham court!" Balder bristled in a poorly kept rage. "Just why are you going this far to kill your daughter, Lucian?" "It is none of your business," Lucian waved the argument off with his hand. "If not for the fact that our law forbade us to conduct a private execution, I wouldn't bother troubling an entire council with this announcement." Silence. "Ah, I see," Balder grimaced as he finally pieced Lucian's motive. "You are afraid. After all these years, Artorax still terrifies the Drakokia. Your mother will truly be disappointed by your cowardice, Luck." Lucian lost his temper--fear and trauma surfacing in his eyes. "Don't you dare! You've never fought Artorax and her ilks. Never watch our spirits and comrades fell from by her bolt. I lost many brothers at the hand of that monster. No child of mine will wield such heresy!" Lucian ranted. "What do you expect me to say to the bereft families if I let this monster continue existing?" "Enough," said another elderly elf. "Master Avar..." the elf woman, Selina, said in shock. "Please don't-" Avar silenced his protege with a wave and spoke. "Lucian, I know what you are planning," Avar said threateningly. "But to honor a benefactor of mine, I am willing to risk it." Avar cleared his throat. "To all my dear compatriot, by the authority of my house and Julius's, I veto the execution order. Instead, I want us to lower the sentence on the ground of the defendant's age. Instead of death, I suggested that Luxxinna Drakokia faced a life-banishment." Aver glared at Lucian. "Are you satisfy yet, Drakokia? Or let it all of Lightwell known that the Drakokia are savages and killers." Lucian looked at Avar in annoyance. "Fine," he grumbled. "May those who found the defendant guilty raise their hand." Lucian and three other elves, including Alusto, raised theirs. The female elf threw a conflicted look at Avar before sadly raising hers. Despite the pressure, Avar and Balder didn't budge an inch. "May the council adjourned, and judge of spirit gathers. Five out of Seven hands raised. The sentence has passed. Luxinna Drakokia, by the council's will, for the crime of heresy, you are stripped of your inheritance and title. You shall never set a foot into Lightwell again on pain of death. You are now dead in our eyes." ... "Grandpa..." Luxxina looked at her surrogate grandfather's rage-filled face. "Uncle..." 'Yes, despite your father having half the council under his wallet. They are still willing to stand by you. And it's not only them.' The light blossomed from the goddess, laying the burning corpse of despair to rest. ... A guard walked the crying Luxinna out of the city gate and into the forest. In the wood, out of sight, he reached down and hugged her. "Don't cry, Lux. It is not over yet." "But I will never see Mag again. Or you. Or big sis Eva." "There is no such thing as never," the man tried his best to comfort the girl. "Let me tell you a secret, do remember the time you asked me to teach you swordsmanship?" "You said I was too young." "But you keep coming over and over. The rest of the guards and I were so fed-up we finally relented. We decided to teach you only the basics, but none of us believe how hard you practiced. The big secret is you actually make some of us practice even harder not to get left behind." The young guard cherishingly rubbed Luxinna's head. "So promised me. Don't give up hope. Be strong. I am looking forward to seeing how much you improve. Promise me that you will be the greatest knight the world ever know, prove that Lord Drakakia are wrong about you."

Cytortia hated tension. Tai Hua and Chuang already gave her enough anxiety for a lifetime. The World War Three between Melody Solarmaria and Remus Breaker was the last thing on her wish-list. The house wouldn’t survive. Hell, forget the house, she would get carted out in a box before the first punch. “Guys stop,” Cytortia wailed. “Rem! Apologize right now!” “Yes,” Rem sarcastically abided. “I apologize that my insignificant opinion hurt your feeling. Do you want a safe space? If so, go upstairs. And please don’t expect me to throw a pity party.” “The hut doesn’t have a second floor,” Luxinna pointed out innocently. “It’s a metaphor, Lux,” Rem grimaced. Melody tried to retort, but she couldn’t. She had experienced dealing with arrogant hypocrite and making those people look like fools. Today was different. There wasn’t a trace of hypocrisy in Rem’s word. The boy truly believed what he preached. “You dare criticize my method,” Melody tried another avenue of attack. “What would you do in my position? Beg and cried as everything goes to hell.” “Simple,” Rem said. “I will calm the fuck down and read the situation. Not that it matters. Here is a thing, Princess; I never want to be a ruler. I am so sick of the concept of might make right I make it my life mission to prove that your almighty ‘power’ meant as much CNN’s trustworthiness. Which — in layman’s term — is zero.” “You lack ambition,” Ebony commented. “A man should aim for greatness.” “With that sentence, you prove you know nothing,” Rem returned fire. “Do you know how hard is it to shatter the abuse of power and sustain peace? You only have to win and sit on a very uncomfortable chair. I must inspire people to believe not in the throne, but in their own integrity. Something which requires more patience than you have in your entire body.” Rem walked to the door, paying no attention to Melody’s accusing eyes. “You claim to be courageous and run away,” Melody growled, “how hypocritical?” “Arguing with you is a waste of time,” Rem replied. “But mark my word. Step an inch out of the line, not even Death will stop me from burying you alive.” “How cool. Why not try it now,” Melody stood trembling with rage. She walked toward Rem slowly; each of her footsteps was haunting. Ebony watched the scene with fascination. Melody was at it again; the girl had immense pride and quick-temper. She smirked. Well, she couldn’t lie that she liked this. That boy overstretched philosophy irked her. Melody needed to smack some sense into him. Before a punch got thrown, an elf stepped between the demoness and her friend. “Sorry, Mel,” Luxinna said, “can I call you Mel?” “No,” Mel replied through gritted teeth. “Okay, Melody,” Lux stated. “This bad-mouthing bastard is my friend. If there is anyone who can shut his loud mouth, it is me, not you.” “Who gives you right over his mouth?” Melody bit back. “Is it the traitor or the goddess?” Outside the house, the unfolding scenario tempted Scathach to throw a spear down the demoness’s throat, but Rem’s aura silenced that thought. She could handle Rem in a semi-second, but the last time she did that got her roped into the god’s Public Enemy #1 plan. A plan whose continual found her in this disaster. Yeah, better safe than sorry. Unluckily for her, Melody lacked Scathach’s experience. “Let take this outside,” Melody challenged. “If you lost, shut up and let me squash the bastard.” “Deal,” Luxinna said. “If you lost, I want a favor from your mother.” Melody looked at her mother. “Go ahead,” Ebony said, sipping a glass of lemonade. “I have a 100% confidence in you.” “Thanks, Ma,” Melody grinned with expectation. “But it wouldn’t be a fair transaction. I want one favor for Scathach if I win.” “Fine,” Scathach replied enthusiastically. “Where do we begin?” … That was how the carnage started. Both young women stood in the backyard, glaring at each other. They eyed each other like hungry beasts thirsting for bloodshed. The air tensed with a storm of danger creeping the audience’s spine. Whirlwind of violence craned for its grand unleash. Hands clenched, and bright red-hair blew. One girl closed her eyes and absorbed herself into the fight. Another young woman knocked her sandals into place, assessing the battlefield, and planned her moves. “This is a knock-out match. Any lethal moves will be a ground for instant loss, understand!” The badger raised her voice to begin the battles. “Fight!” Golden gauntlets cladded Luxinna’s arms, while a pair of greaves form on her legs as she rushed toward Melody. The elf opened the fight with a full-body blow of electricity. “Too predictable,” Rem grimaced. The boy was right. Melody skipped past the punch and countered with her flaming fist. Fortunately, Luxinna was faster, way faster. The elf already inched out of the attack’s range and countered with a roundhouse kick. It was a perfect blow in posture, balance, and timing. The lightning-charge kick from such a narrow-angle would launch Melody over the house and end the battle. Crash! Melody blocked the kick with both her hands. The ground crumbled beneath the force, but the girl was more than fine. She was grinning savagely, reveling in her victory. Then Luxinna noticed the faint tattoo on the demon girl’s forehead. … “You must be kidding me,” Scathach said in disbelief. “My daughter is impressive, isn’t she?” Ebony smirked, watching Melody’s flaming fist crashing against the gauntlet of glass. “You know, if a certain someone arrived when I needed her the most a decade ago, maybe you would have that ultimate warrior you want to create so bad. Regret it much, Scathach?” “Oh hell,” Scathach’s face turned green. “Luxinna will lose this one.” Rem suddenly sensed a terrible omen. “What am I looking at?” Rem said. “You see that golden hue between her forehead?” Rem nodded, in the middle of Melody’s forehead was a golden pattern of a vertically shaped oval — an eye. “It’s called the [Heavenly Eye],” Scathach explained. “It’s an ability that rarely appeared in the Asura of the Demon-race. Dammit, if the Aztellic will explode if they know that Majesty’s blood inherits the eyes,” “Explanation please,” Rem spoke. “[Heavenly Eye] is a rare trait among the Asuras-race like my late husband.” Ebony explained. “It’s a prestigious innate ability gifted at birth, and can’t gain through training. Your goddess can explain this better than anyone; she has that kind of innate power too.” “That’s right,” Cytortia nodded. “We call its Inherited Skill. A skill belongs solely to a race. For the gods, we are born with [Origin]. It is the divine core that gave the gods peerless capability in magic and combat. You could say that every major power in Phantasia has an Inherited Skill to give them an edge.” Rem sensed he was becoming a butt of a joke. “The elf has their gift as a [Child of Nature],” Scathach added. “For the demons, it’s differ per species. Meanwhile, the beast-men have animal’s sense and great potential for atavism. Even then, [Heavenly Eye] was another league entirely. It is one of the strongest visual power in Phantasia.” “Guys,” Rem said. “I am new here. What could it do?” “Aura-sight, Far-sight, Telescopic vision, Illusion penetration, X-ray vision, and vector prediction. It can also allow the user to read Mana and grant higher magical-processing power.” Cytortia’s face fell with every word. Ebony smugly grinned as a cross-countered sent Luxinna rolling across the floor. After losing the battle of reason, the succubus couldn’t help but enjoyed this minor victory. “For all your bravado, all your kind have is numbers,” Ebony rubbed her victory at the young man. “Do you know how many human’s civilization my Continent have driven into submission? Don’t be so high and mighty, boy. A race forsakes by fate like yours with no unique power of its own have no right to question mine.” Rem said nothing. He had no energy to do it. All of his power, his calories, and his wisdom were honed to prepare himself to do what he must. They might lose the battle, but he would win the war. … Luxinna crashed into the floor, raising clouds of sand and dirt. The pain from the last kick vibrated in her throat and staggered her. The disparity in strength and magic power was too much. Her opponent either matched or surpassed her punch-to-punch in all categories. Speed is the only chance she had. Melody dropped from above, bringing in a fire-infused kick down on Luxinna’s head. The elf gritted her teeth and rolled away. Luxinna painfully breathed as she dragged herself up for another round of exchanges. Each trade drew its strength from the countless sparring session the elf had with Scathach. Attacks with the speed invisible to the human’s eyes rained from the exhausted elf. A lightning-coated fist missed. The spin-kick following it hit nothing. A haymaker aimed after the combo got dodged effortlessly. Finally, Luxinna poured her momentum into a roundhouse kick, only for the pair of hands coated in fires to block it and torpedoed her effort. Luxinna gritted her teeth in frustration. How was this happening? To Luxinna’s condolence, Melody’s overwhelming strength had limits. Although she nullified those barrages, the lightning from the last kick sent the demoness’ inside reeling. The injury nearly drove Melody to her knees. Sadly, the red fiery energies inside the demoness’ body boiled and began healing her internal wound. In a few breaths, she was more or less stable. The development left Luxinna with only one move. [Static Glass: Savage Lotus] In the distance, two glass lotus formed above Luxinna. … “[Demonic Blood Cultivation],” Scathach said in shock after witnessing Melody’s recovery speed. “That is a long-lost cultivation technique! So the rumor that the Aztellic found it in the Forbidden Zone is true! No, there’s more, that’s the [Sunfire Fist]! It was Majesty’s cultivation technique. But how? The Aztellic reported it lost after his death.” Cytortia shook at the techniques’ name. “You have it all along,” Scathach accused the smug Ebony. “And you never told me!?” “Why should I tell you?” Ebony replied with disdain. “Would you come and help me escape fifteen years ago if I give it to you?” “Of course,” Scathach sounded offend. “Those are treasures from the Forbidden Zone. Who wouldn’t want it?” Unsurprisingly, that last reply tempted Ebony to kill this goddess of fair-weather friend right where she stood. “I wouldn’t want it,” Rem announced. “I don’t want it either,” Cytortia said, looking at the battle with a hurt expression on her face. “I have too many terrible memories with cultivation techniques.” “Are you serious?” Ebony looked at the two of them in disbelief. The disbelief transmigrated to shock the moment she realized both of them weren’t joking. “Why?” “Shuang and Tie Hua often fight over cultivation resources, and master let them get away with it to hone their skills,” the goddess looked downcast and becoming more depressed with every word. “It was total carnage. My labs and research notes often got caught on fire during the fight.” The goddess drove into the PTSD territory as she narrated her tale. “They wouldn’t stop. Whenever I try to interfere, they will beat the hell out of me with no hesitation. And the request. God, those requests are too much. They would ask me to refine material after material, and when I refuse to cooperate, they would tell master. Master always sided with those two.” Ebony and Scathach felt like a total scumbag as the goddess decent into a waterfall of tears. Rem didn’t waste the opportunity to make them feel worse. “Absolute power corrupts absolutely — how old are you not to realize it? What do you think this is? A dick measuring contest? Shove your ego in your pant and look at the damage you are causing. Scathach, congratulation, remind me not to trust you with anything more valuable than sandpapers. You sold your principle like a whore selling her body. Do the world a favor and jam those spears down your throat. Ebony, keep your smug smile and genetic dick to yourself, or I will chop it off and feed it to a cock. Stop wanking that non-existent dick in front of children, you retrograde pedo. Both of you are adult, grow some fucking responsibilities retards.” Ebony and Scathach inched away from Rem. That was the first time they received such toxicity, forget about a returning fire at the boy, their mind was blank for a second. “Wow, kid, who taught you how to throw insult?” Scathach asked. Even gods didn’t have Rems burning disdain. “Scathach, something is better left buried,” Rem stated. “That is polite by my standard.” “Why is he this angry?” Ebony inched closer to Scathach. “What did I do to deserve this?” Rem ignored them, as far as he concerned, the normies better at knowing nothing. … Luxinna received a flaming punch that sent her rolling across the ground again. In the distance, Melody grinned triumphantly. Even with her clothes singed in multiple places, this was worth it. The demoness held two golden lotuses in her hand and crushed it with her raw strength. “Your magic is powerful,” she taunted. “Hell, it even surpasses mine completely, but it’s not enough.” Luxinna got up. Her eyes sagged as exhaustion caught up to her. Even with all its strength, True Magic was far from invincible. Unlike other systems that burnt one Mana, True Magic channeled magical energy from the universe by using Mana as a conducting wire. While this method came with no backlash commonly found from Mana combustion, it still overheated the user and taxed their stamina. Luxinna couldn’t believe what happened. She had opened fire at Melody with twin beams of electricity, but the demoness predicted the attack’s vector and exploited the beam’s blind spot. It only took an instant to close the distance. And what happened next was downright ridiculous. Crushing the lotus charged with that much electricity should be impossible, but Melody’s toughness, with an addition of her fire energy and healing factor, realized that possibility. Luxinna took out a knife, and pure all her remaining energy into it, turning the glass-covered knife into a red-fiery blade glowering with electricity. Here was her last chance; the attack that brought down Bruno. “Here is a trade secret: you shouldn’t do that,” Melody said, inspecting the knife thoughtfully. Luxinna ignored the girl’s warning and charged with all the strength she could muster. The elf lunged, putting all her remaining stamina into one desperate thrust fueled with intense lightning. Melody took five steps back. The demoness didn’t even bother blocking. Midway through the attack, the knifes melted, turning into molten slag, vaporizing into nothingness right in front of the bewildered elf. Melody exploited that opening to launch a punch. The haymaker hit the shocked and unprepared elf right under her chin. Luxinna flew across the air and smashed into the ground with a painful crunch. She gritted her teeth and tried to get up, but her body remained unmoved like a dead lead. “Your magic is too powerful,” Melody boastfully explained. “Even a finely forged steel will melt if you aren’t careful. With such sloppy control, that kind of piss-poor knife will melt before it even hit me. Quite a pathetic ending isn’t it.” Luxinna ground her teeth. Melody turned toward Scathach. “As for my request, I want to see the textbook for her magic. That lightning glass interests me very much.”

Luxinna gaped at how much had progressed since she left for reconnaissance. “Ebony, do we have enough data on the dragon to develop countermeasures?” “Yes,” Ebony replied, drawing a draft on the blackboard along with some calculations. “Given its abilities and size, we have a problem. It wings--“ “Don’t worry about the wings, I have a countermeasure,” Rem answered with a sour frown. “We need that thing immobilized before we kill it. Horisearch, what do we have on your side?” The Horisearch, namely Cytortia, was copying the quote from a book and onto the blackboard. By her side, an exhausted Melody stuck one post-it notes after another on the badly drawn dragon. “We have a problem,” Cytortia yelled. “The dragon's shield will block-“ Luxinna had enough. “Stop!” She put up a pause sign. “Halt! What the heck did I miss?!” “I want to ask the same question,” Scathach was equally stunned. “I never expect you guys to identify the dragon in less than a day.” Cytortia stuck her chest out proudly, while Rem glanced at the sky longingly in the background. “I don’t expect it either, but Rem was incredible.” Rem said nothing. “Rem suggested the dragon is likely from Smu’ag. That ruled out every dragon save for twenty-five species,” Cytortia continued. ”Given that Illma and the X-cution come here; the dragon must be enough of a threat that Milian can’t handle, but not rewarding enough for someone stronger than Illma to come.” ”Using these criteria, we rounded down to five dragons,” Melody concluded. ”Then we started looking historical legend around Smu’ag.” ”We caught another break from folklore about a black flying lizard who haunted all who live near the black land,” Cytortia said. ”Adding the color criteria eliminated three of the dragons, leaving us with two.” ”We listed down the strange phenomenon around Milian since its foundation and cross-referenced it to our suspects. Which is this one.” Rem grabbed a stick, pointed at the picture on Ebony's blackboard, and gave the final stretch of the explanation. ”Sicilian Ghost Dragon,” Rem declared. ”It feast on the energy of the damned spirit. This dragon is infamous for its scarlet fire that destroys soul, scales impenetrable to magic below B-Rank, and Dark-attribute blood that nullifies any poison in its bloodstream.” ”It also has an aura made from the damned spirits which also double as a super magnet for ghost,” Ebony looked annoyed. ”To think I have to annually burn my money on anti-ghost incense because of this thing." Ebony vengefully snapped a piece of chalk. "I will tear it to pieces!” The rest of the gang silently decided to avoid ghosts' defenses at all cost. ”So it is like Cytortia’s Black Despair, ” Scathach concluded. ”Except it flies and burns people soul,” Rem stated. "Yeah, you could say that." Luxinna stood and picked up her suggestion book. The longer she listened, the more this felt like an opening to a massive disaster. She needed to get stronger. That was a promise to herself. Luxinna wouldn't let anyone in front of her die if she could help it. ”Guys, I am off to train,” she left for the camp entrance. ”I am outside if you need me.” … Rem grimaced at Scathach’s debrief. The first thing he needed to do was admitting this was a total disaster. The world sucked seven-front to hell and saying otherwise was an escape to that non-existent utopia. Only idiots like the politician and his schoolmate did that. Rem sighed. It was a vicious cycle. Those clowns tried to make a utopia in hell of finite resources. Soon they would wake up one day and realized they lived in a traveling circus-planet orbiting the sun. Rem detested clown. He rathered fight a nihilistic clown armed with a laughing gas than lived in the circus. Now that he admitted the odds were laughing at them, it was time to feed the odds its own laughing gas. ”Okay, let me get it straight, ” Rem said. ”Illma Zoldia Road planned to deal with a dragon by way of artillery bombardment. Now, how realistic is this?” Melody finished her calculation. ”It won’t work.” ”It won’t?” Cytortia looked at the demoness incredulously. ”That artillery is cutting-edge magical technology.” ”Signum-S4 have a yield of an A-Rank Attack Magic,” Ebony explained. ”I will leave the number out, but we need more power to kill it. From our estimate, the dragon’s defensive aura will cut the projectile power by a rank. Yes, B-Rank magic will hurt it, but the dragon won't stay still a let you bombard it to death." ”Yes, Ma is right,” Melody explained. ”Illma likely thinks she is dealing with an average dragon, not a Sicilian Ghost. The initial of bombardment will only give it a bruise or a nasty cut at most. Unless she has a solid defense, the dragon will survive long enough to roast everyone." ”What about the X-cution?” Cytortia said. "Scathach reported more than two dozens." ”They are a variable,” Melody admitted. ”But mom’s note on the X-cution makes it pretty clear the robotic doesn’t have a defense for soul attack.” ”So it will be a fight between soul-destroying fire against psychologically mutilated children?” Scathach face-palmed. ”This will fair as well as Satholia's raid on Olympus.” Rem should be happy. Karma was coming after Ms. Untouchable for once, but he only felt dread. For every good fortune, there was a but. “Can Millian survives the battle?” Rem asked. “No,” Scathach said. “No,” Ebony agreed. “Illma's bombardment will likely take out 25% of Millian,” Melody added. “The dragon will render another 75% to a wasteland, so I think that will be a no.” “It’s a no Rem,” Cytortia said sheepishly. “Sorry.” Rem sighed. He was never an overachiever, but now he must climb over his pay grade. It was frustrating to deal with the problem he never had a stake in for the people who he never knew. But it is the right thing, Superman would do this, and so would Rem. His moral compass wouldn’t allow him to abandon them and run. The trick was to find the right solution that saw everyone emerging a winner. “We have to take out Illma and the dragon.” Everyone froze. “Both of them?” Cytortia twitched. “I know it sucks,” Rem said, walking over to the backboard and starting to put in several markers. “But for the town's sake, we have to lure the dragon toward Illma and contain them for as long as possible." No one interrupted him. They recognized his tone. The Remus Breaker who defeated Paracis Corruptor and the Princess of Demonic Continent was back. “Firstly, we need to lure a dragon,” Rem said. “Anyone have any idea?” Cytortia raised her hand. “Sicilian Dragon feast on the spirit of the damned,” Cytortia volunteered. “I believe I can modify the Black Despair to lure in the dragon.” “““Hell no!””” Scathach, Melody, and Ebony yelled. The ghost hoard trauma resurfaced like an erupting volcano. “Do you stooges have a better idea?” Asked Satan Rem. Silence. “Cy, you are hired,” Rem steely concluded. “Melody go and help her.” “Why?” “Do you want Cy to fuck-up and unleash another ghost hoard?” Melody shut up. The two adults waited for the two girls to exit before saying what was on their mind. “Rem,” Scathach said. “You must know I can’t help you deal with the dragon directly.” “I know,” Rem said, grabbing a piece of chalk. “I don’t expect you to throw away your standing with the gods. We still need a connection with them. You don’t have to worry about the dragon or the X-cution.” Rem started writing on the board. “I already have a plan to deal with both.” … Hours after Rem’s announcement, in a desert plain nearby, an elf collapsed to the ground. The sand around her was black with scorch marks. Debris scattered amidst the charred sand and crushed rocks. Luxinna's clothing was shredded and burnt. Her skin was raw and bleeding. Rings and shackles of bruise adorned the elves' wrist and ankles. Luxinna laid there; spent of her entire energy. That was how Scathach found her. The badger looked around, taking in the sight of burning trenches of glass, the sour smell of molten rock, and crackling sound of rock fracturing apart. She turned toward a nearby rock formation. The originally whole stone now resembled a hornet-nest. Scathach recognized the smoke wafting from the holes. They were a sign of impact from high-temperature projectiles. Scathach looked at the half-conscious elf. Many factors existed to measure a warrior's testament. Personally, Scathach believed the most annoying type were those who didn't know how to quit. Luxinna was, without a doubt, that type of warrior. As for the most fearsome: they were the type who only in it to get the last laugh; the Rem of this world. Any fight they threw in was a living nightmare for everyone else. They laughed when they win and laughed harder when someone was stupid enough to waste precious time and energy to make them lose. “Hey,” Scathach hurried toward the downed elf. “Are you okay?” “Scathach,” the elf said in a tiny voice, her face dirtied with soot. “I did it.” Luxinna lifted her arm, showing the product of her hard work. It was a gracefully glided armor. The original bulky gauntlet got trimmed down to only cover the back the hand, knuckles, and arms while living the rest of the joint free to move. Instead of the original glass plate, diagonally crisscrossed golden loops sophisticatedly crafted the armguard. The designed was bold but feminine; emphasizing on grace and precision overpower. Scathach’s mouth hung open. “These patterns...” Scathach looked at the tattered elf. “You need to be very precise to create this. Just how many time did you explode while trying!?" “I don’t know,” Luxinna replied, her body too exhaust to move an inch. “I lost count after 59, so about 150 times, I think." That explained the bruise and the scorch mark. Those prototypes must have exploded on her. But how did the elf turn the rock formation to a sponge? “What about that?” Scathach gestured at the disfigure rock. Luxinna's face twitched into a smile, and she lifted her bleeding and bruised right arms. “But I think it is still far from perfect,” the elf flinched at the random pulse of pain running up her spine. “Oww, it hurt.” Scathach was pissed. “Of course it hurt,” She yelled, picking Luxinna up by her shoulder and dragged her back to the camp. “You may be immune to lighting, but that doesn’t give you invincibility. Don't try to overexert yourself too much or that idiot will cry again.” “Okay, but what's up?” Scathach sighed. “Rem's plans,” Scathach answered. “We need a weapon that can contain as much energy as possible while being virtually indestructible. Since you also have a weapon issue, we decided to shoot two birds with one stone.” “Wait... Don’t tell me.” “Yes, Lux,” Scathach said. “Ebony is making a schematic right now. Tomorrow we will start forging your weapon, among other things.” … Meanwhile in Millian... The entire block was burning; people cried in pain and panic in the flame of hell. Guildmaster Aion picked himself up from the debris. Everything went wrong in the first minute. How did Illma know that he was coming? Nevertheless, he underestimated her. He would never think that Illma would launch an ambush right in the civilian area. A familiar figure flew past him and smashed into a house. Aion grimaced, another friend gone. How many had it been today? Allowing Enma to come here was a mistake. Aion turned to face the lumbering mass of machine that sent his friend flying. The X-cution responded, the barrels of canon on its' shoulder glowed orange and fired a torrent of burning flames. Aion eyes' widened, and he raised the shield of yellow energy to block the brunt of the attack. With a guttural growled, he shouldered into the fire, shield first, and closed the distance. A shield bash followed the moment he got in range, knocking the lumbering hulk of metal off-balance and a stab through the cyborg's heart ended the fight. But Aion couldn't get a rest. He turned back and cut the feline looking cyborg in half. Gut, blood, and metal spilled everywhere as a blue blade bisect the enemy. However, the victory was short-lived. Sound waves he didn't saw coming punched into him. Aion fell from the sound pressure, blood leaking his ears. The X-cution hoisting sound-blaster didn't give him a chance. Its chest opened to reveal a fully-charge magic circle. Aion’s face sank. A pillar of earth shoot from below, punching him in the stomach and carrying him through a wall of a wrecked inn. There he met the perpetrator of this mess. Illma Zoldia Road sat in the room splattered with blood; her black nightgown was spotless. Mayor Port and Taku stood in the corner, sweating with fright. Illma grinned, toying with a man drench in blood. Aion recognized him; it was his secretary. The secretary's right eye had been gouged out, leaving a bloody hole behind. Meanwhile, the left half of his body was a burnt mess. Illma joyfully snapped the secretary's neck, stood up and did a stretch. Aion gathered himself up for an attack that would end his hated enemy. A stab through the heart would be all it took. “Oh don’t look at me that way,” Illma clapped, summoning a crimson magic circle. “This is all self-defense.” Aion couldn’t hear her through his busted eardrum, not that he wanted to listen to her excuse. Instead, he launched himself up at Illma. The Untouchable gleefully lighted the crimson circle, sending a powerful wave of pain to all who bathed in its light. Taku and Port dropped to their knees as their nerve crawled with pure agony. Aion dropped to the floor screaming, his muscle cramped up and his eyes turned bloodshot. Illma, immune to her magic, walked up to the struggling Aion and kicked him in the face. “Oh, Aion, you try so hard, but you lost before the fight even began,” Illma sighed. “You should thank your friend Port. He told me everything about your little insubordination. But I am curious, why do you risk everything to stop me from blowing up half this dump." Port screamed in pain, clearly regretting his decision. “Lady Illma,” Taku gasped, struggling beside Port. “Please disabled the [Field of Pain].” “Why should I?” Illma yawned. Aion roared “You won’t get away Illma,” Aion fought back through the red light of agony, leaning heavily on his sword but far from defeat. “You think you can do anything because you are an Untouchable!? I won't allow it!" “Yes,” Illma replied. “ That is what Untouchable mean. Of course, you can’t hear me. Why not use your eyes instead?" Illma clapped. "Boys, bring her in.” The wall next to Aion exploded. An X-cution walked in with a little girl in its' grip. The little girl was tearing. Her face was puffy from crying, and her pigtail coated with soot. The bruises on her body dictated too well how she got hauled to this very room. Aion stared at the girl, horrified. The girl's mother worked as a receptionist in the Adventurer Guild, and the girl herself hang out in the guild as a server. Despite being rough place in general, even the most hardcore of the adventurer felt a bit of kinship with this girl. Aion, personally, was very close to her. “Guildmaster,” the girl said. “Help!” Illma walked to the girl and caressed her in the cheek. She glanced at Aion; the message was clear. The guildmaster dropped his sword in surrender, a torrent of lightning hit him squarely in the chest, followed by the viciously haunting laughter of the woman who knew she won. It was a solid five minutes of traumatizing screams, until Taku, the obnoxious Catman, decided it was too much. “Milady!” Taku screeched. “He is close to Grandmaster Oz! We can still use him as a bargaining chip.” The lightning stopped. “Why don’t you say earlier?” Illma kicked Aion’s body with the pointy end of her heel. “Is he dead? No, he still breathing… good. Lock him in the dungeon, try to make it as uncomfortable as possible.” Illma walked out with a crying little girl who was clenching her eyes tight. “My lady, may I ask what do you want with the girl?” Port asked in a mixture of concern and fear. “Your Guildmaster, excuse me, 'former' Guildmaster cost me some of my toys,” Illma gleefully explained. “I'm entitled to a little replacement, aren’t I?” Illma walked out of the room. Her laughter sent a bucket of ice down Port’s spine.

"That was an incredibly bad move," Avar said, looking at the door the three elves walked out. "A backstabbing ally is more dangerous than a competent enemy," Rem commented in a flat voice. "Getting rid of them is a good plan from a certain point of view." Cytortia finally took off the Hero armor before breathing deeply. Her voice strained. "Now we have to find Luxinna," she said, visibly folding on her leg in. "Uncle Avar, is she still in the forest?" Scathach and Avar looked at each other. Somehow Rem knew the task would be more complicated than he expected. "How large is the forest?" Rem asked, dreading the answer. "Several hundred times the size of this city," Avar said tiredly. "Don't worry about her. Luxinna is still wandering around in that forest somewhere. She never left." Avar sagged, looking into the distant light of the better days. "That girl dearly loves her home," Avar said, looking out of the window. "Before Lucian tore them apart, Magnolia, Eva, and Luxinna were inseparable. They were the best of friends, yet, they couldn't be more different. Eva is an adventurous girl. Magnolia sincerely wants to help her clan. But Luxinna, she's the one who loves her home the most. She is incredibly grateful for this place. What a joke; she never deserves to be one of us. She is too good for that." Hearing that, Cytortia struck her fist on the table. For once, she looked furious. Her earth-color eyes burnt with emerald energy. "Inseparable?" Cytortia said to Avar, trying not to elevate her voice into a shout, but she was failing. "Are you telling me this is the reason you never write back to Eva for years? Something this stupid is a reason for that? Every day she checked her post and wrote to you, asking about what is happening back at home for two years solids! Do you even know that?" Avar displayed the answer by refusing to meet her eyes. As for Rem, he walked toward the window, looking unusually more melancholic. "Understand him a bit Cy," Rem said without any trace of emotion. "I listen to the conversation for about two minutes and can already guess this Eva would go overboard for Luxinna. Do you consider the implication of someone from Ava's clan lending an exile heretic aid? You will only be giving Lucian political ammo with this. Am I right, elder Avar?" Avar nodded in shame. Cytortia pointed at Rem accusingly. "What with your attitude?" Cytortia yelled at him. "You stick with me for a week, and I can barely understand you at all? You sound bothered, but do you feel anything at all?" "I don't," Rem replied. Cytortia's wind fell out of her sail. "Slavery, kidnapping, cannibalism, and genocide." Rem listed, looking at the sky without any attachment. "If you think about the most terrible thing humanity had ever done for long enough, I can guarantee you will barely feel the horror anymore. I don't think I even understand what I am at this point..." Cytortia was too shocked to say anything, but Scathach entered the ring in her stead. "Then why would you do this if you didn't care?" Scathach said. "Humanity and elves are not that different. You must know his. They are all selfish power-obsess bastards who don't deserve my sympathy or yours. I am doing this because I pretty much can't let the girl's potential go to waste, but what about you?" Rem closed his eyes. ... Inside the world of poppies and starless black sky, a younger version of Rem yelled at from a man who brutally defeated him in their last encounter. Despite his rage, he was staying as far away from Rem as possible. "You know the badger has a point," the crystallization of Rem's hatred shouted at the self he couldn't surpass. The boy went on ranting in desperation with tears of fear in his eyes. "They kill their kind. They sell their children. They abuse others. They destroy dreams without any regret. Their wins create losses. Those losses cause misery. They never accept their mistake nor learn to accept the fault of others. Humans are terrible beings that made the universe worse just by existing. Why are you even considering what that girl said about [Arrival of Dream]? What makes you think it is worth sacrificing us for those self-destructing monkies? They deserve every condemnation aiming for them. So why..." ... The teenage Rem Breaker opened his eyes in the real world, looking at the hopeful sky and the splendid sun of Phantasia. "You are right," Rem said to himself as much as to Scathach. "Yet, despite that selfishness, humanity is nevertheless capable of empathy. We're capable of aiding others. We're capable of sacrificing for each other. Humans can spread dreams that lift each other from despair. We are capable of charity. We know right and wrong, and try to seek a world that is both happy and fair no matter how impossible." The rest of the room was stunned at the turn of the conversation. Meanwhile, inside the quiet world, a certain young boy was being pressed into a white ground by a waterfall of red petals. "How can such people be weak? They are a species that never cease to amaze," Rem continued. "We are such a flawed race, but within us is something more. You can blame humanity for everything wrong with the world. But you could never help but admire the struggle they put against the power of entropy." Rem turned toward the group. "Despite our stumble, we finally abolish slavery and even willing to battle to the death to see it through. If humanity is truly evil incarnated, why for a solid hundred years and counting does five different countries mourn for the dead who died in the greats wars. Isn't it to honor those sacrifices by not repeating those mistakes? If we are such an immature being, then we would already wipe ourselves during the cold war. Yet, we have managed, after a thousand years, to learn to compromise enough not to do that." Rem moved toward the group, touching the helm of the man he would become one day. "So if you want to know why I am bothering to save those idiots, here is the answer: the entity called humanity has produced acts of kindness impossible for other species. Innovation, integrity, charity, fairness; these acts shine in fog absolute darkness like a miraculous jewel. Even if I am never understood, I can die happy knowing that the core of a boy who was enchanted by of those ideas survived." Rem walked to the table. "Are we going to complain about the meaningless things that already happened or a girl we need to save?" Rem said, tapping the rigid surface. "Let get started by bringing me the map." ... Rem spent that entire afternoon in the Black Mercy looking at a map, contemplating whether or not to set the paper on fire to end the pain. Scathach was patrolling outside to escape the paperwork. Rem couldn't blame the traitor for committing a high-treason; this mess was a trainwreck in motion. Their target moved like a dust particle, and Brownian-motion, as a rule, couldn't be predicted. Thankfully, Remus Breaker was too hollow to give up, but his teammate was not as dead inside as him. "This is impossible!" Cytortia banged her hand on the table in frustration. "We won't even find her." "Nothing is impossible," Rem declared. "Everything leaves a trace. We have to be smart enough to find it." The room turned silent for a few hours. Cytortia didn't move nor say anything, but her muteness sucked the air out of the room. Finally, resolving herself, the goddess opened her mouth and spoke in a voice choked with depression. "Do you remember what you said about humanity?" Cytortia began. "You said they're a wonderful race, right?" "Humanity is more like a concept every race has inside of them," Rem explained. "Gods, Humans, elves. The only different things are your DNA, but that gift and curse that humanity could bring are just the same." Cytortia looked at him. "I don't get it. What makes me so wonderful?" "You are you," Rem said matter-of-factly. "Everyone is special in a certain point of view. I am not the one who can tell what makes you special. Only you can do that." "Examples?" Cytortia said. "I can't think of any." Rem looked at her in dismay. "You pick the worst person to do this," Rem denied but lost to the goddess puppy's eyes. He sighed. "You are a disciple of a Queen of the Gods, had an amazing connection and born a goddess, is that not enough of..." Rem barely dodged a protractor flying at his face. "You think I am happy about that garbage!?" Cytortia suddenly lost her temper. "No one get it! Not you! Not Scathach! No one understands anything!" "You ask me, and I tell you what I know," Rem replied calmly. "Are you expecting me to sing praises without knowing anything? Who are you again? Ishtar?" But Cytortia was already delivering her hell. "No one ever understands. After all those talks, humanity couldn't stop Zeus from being an ass. It certainly didn't stop grandmother from having a hair-brain idea that a clone of his mother, born with her aspect, could counter him. Born a goddess!? I am supposed to be a replica of Rhea, Mother of the Olympians, amplified with Gaia's power. Look at what a disappointment I am!" "You are pretty capable. Alchemy and research skills should not be underrated." "Oh, but grandma doesn't want that!" the goddess sniffled. "Don't you get it? I am supposed to stand above the King of Olympian!" Cytortia thrust a fist at the table. "It only took three days for grandma to ship me off to Nu Wa and called the experiment a failure. Do you know how that felt? Being born to do one thing and fail right before you start!" Cytortia began to cry. Any composure she has started breaking down as she poured her heart out for anyone who cared to listen. "You think being Nuwa's disciple was all sunshine and parades every day? Do you know how much I suffer? Every visitor my master ever invited laughed when Chuang set me on fire! You heard how everyone talk about Tie Hua. Do you know that bitch is my master's favorite? Kar'Dia and other servants praise that witch over and over without ever realizing what she is becoming. The only one who ever approached me is LinLey. For a while, I thought I finally have a friend. Guess what she said to those bitches when she thought no one was listening?" Rem had an idea. He was used to this kind of thing. "'A commoner orphan and two immature idiots. As useless as you are, I had to thank you for driving that loser into my arms. All it took us a few kind words later, and I already have a free Alchemist." The goddess's eyes watered. "That is what she said," Cytortia bitterly vented her frustration. "Every time she patched me up after training, every time she encouraged me to keep going, it is all a lie. I was only nine back then! NINE! What did I do to deserve any of that?" Rem remained silent. If the quarter of this was genuine, the Heavenly Daughters were beyond fixing at this point. But that girl, LinLey, must be shifted as a priority target. If she employed such backstabbing as a child, there was no telling what she would do as an adult." "I came crying to my master that night," Cytortia trembled harder. "She said I misunderstood them. She insisted that they will change and asked me to give them a chance. But I couldn't take it. After LinLey gave them that tip, all of them try to force me into their camp. It was an ultimatum. Either pick a side or suffer, but I knew it would never end either way, so I packed my bag and ran." Cytortia's tears ran over her cheek and dripped onto the table in an unstoppable downpour of misery. "I went to my aunt. Artio was the only one who would help me. She told me to find myself; to start doing what I love. So I started helping people, curing the sick, building homes for endangered animals, and researching agriculture. Before I knew it, I began traveling, using what I learned from Nuwa to support people in trouble like uncle Avar. I even manage to make a real friend for once." A hint of a smile crept up her lips. "Those people thanked me, you know. I finally found the one thing I want for so long. Everyone says it is my talent that allows me to be an S-Rank Alchemist, but I know better. All I did is getting a license to be a doctor, research a new medicine to cure a parasitic disease, and concocted pill after pill for the sick kids. They only gave me a thank-you card or a crude artwork, but that is all I want. I didn't even care my name got registered as a youngest S-rank Alchemist; those gratitudes were all I want." Rem feared another sob story was coming. He wasn't disappointed. "Of course I can't have that," Cytortia muttered angrily. "Happiness isn't meant to be mine. My master had to call me back to that hell. Those monsters didn't change one bit! Queen of Heaven, my ass!" Cytortia continued her mournful rant. "It's time to spread your wing? Venture out to the world and compete for accomplishment? Hone your skills and gain experience? Did she know what she unleashed? Kar'Dia still follows Tie Hua around like a lovesick puppy. Chuang is downright maniacal. And none of those ass-kissers bothered to stop Tie Hua when she declared all of Phantasia would be hers. Hell, they started cheering for that bitch when I got blasted into the wall for calling her out. After all these years, no one bothers to set her straight." Cytortia thought back to how a fist sent her crashing into the wall and the ensuing pain. "And LinLey, she already knows me. She announced in that room how many things I have to lose and offered her support as she left me lying there. Do you know what that would..." Rem decided to interrupt. "She set your other competitors after you. If I am right, she expects Tie Hua and Chuang to drive you into the corner, forcing you to bend over for her help. Cytortia gave herself a mocking smile. "Pathetic, isn't it?" Cytortia said, looking up to the ceiling in melancholy. "If I keep my mouth shut, I might be able to go back to aunt Artio and continue my life in peace. But because I spoke out, they are going after anything that can force me to join them.  Aunty had to call Scathach to drag me out of her palace to protect those I helped from being a target. In the end, after all these years, being good got me nothing." She stopped crying but instead despaired. "No matter how many I help, there will always be another tragedy, isn't it? People like Luxinna and me who want to live a happy life, but-" Rem reached and grasped her hand. Cytortia looked into Rem's eyes. Somehow, in that serene apathy, a weak lantern of kindness still flickered. "Being good won't get you any jackpot," Rem said kindy. "In a certain sense, speaking out or trying to save everything is mightily stupid. Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, those people suffered for doing right when the world remained content on being evil. And that is what makes you special as they are." Rem looked at the map with renewing determination. "Cy, your grandmother is right for the wrong reason. Zeus is powerful enough to do terrible deeds and get away with it until Satholia castrated him as an example to all evil. You suffered for doing the right thing, and Satholia put you on a pedestal as a beacon of good. So you are indeed his counter as an example for the world. Be proud Cy, the arc of history is long, but it's curved toward a better world." Rem offered the goddess a smile as fake as it was reassuring. Cy noticed the inauthenticity of that smile, but it did not contain malice. The boy didn't know to understand emotion, but that didn't prevent him from doing the right thing.

Woodland Animal Report $$/%%/XX Q1) Did you see a cute female elf with charcoal black hair passing here these past few months. Pigeon 1: You dare ask me! I am- Pigeon 2: He is a loser! Ask me! I am the Balteford of Flowing River. Cheh! Those lesser being. Woodpecker: Demons! Begone! Carp: They died. $#@$. Serve them right. Trout: Go to hell. Salmon: I need a wife. Can you find me a woman? Q2) How often did you see her in a month. Pigeon1: You think I will answer? Replying to a mere mortal!? I am the King who seals Heaven, Master of Thousand Wonders! All heavenly god serve me! Now bow to my feet! Balteford of Flowing River: Balteford 360 worlds 1000 tonnes kick! Woodpecker: You shall not get anything from me! Begone Demons! Carp: (Swam away) Trout: (A Pelican ate it) Salmon: Please, I need to talk to someone. Q3) Where do you think I can find her? Pigeon1: You dare question me I am-ack Balteford of Flowing River: (eaten by a minx) Woodpecker: Go back to the depth of hell, Servant of Malufa! I Woodstantine commands you! Salmon: My wife left, my children died, my parents are now skeleton at the bottom of this pool. All I want is to die. Kill me and carve me up to sate your appetite, please, I beg you. .. Rem read the report calmly. His face was unchanging, but his stiff posture suggested that all trace of his remaining emotion was clamping down his desire to set the forest on fire. It was nearly late morning in the forest. Aromas of nature filled the air as sunlight broke melancholically through the leaves above the boy. Balls of light the size of marble floated in the air like snows suspended in the land without time, creating an image of a heavenly winter. Despite the serene, relaxing aura of Lightwell Forest, the rabid noise behind him was anything but calm. "What the heck did you say about me?! Answer me, you damn bird!!!" A blonde goddess was strangling a foaming woodpecker. It was bullying in all its glory. The unfortunate thing already lost half its feather as the goddess squeezed any traces of life out of the bird. Rem sighed. He had rejoiced when Cytortia told him she could communicate with the wildlife. He thought the if the bumbling squad of a badger, human and goddess couldn't find an elf, maybe the wise and peaceful animal of Lightwell Forest could give them much-needed counsel. Alas, such a thing was too good to be true. Cytortia finally let the bird dropped into a twitching heap and approached Rem with a sparkling smirk. "Rem, I finally get a clue! The girl often wander near a nearby lake to hunt!" Cytortia shouted happily. Rem nodded. Someone landed behind him in a thump, knocking the leaves up with the impact. Cytortia screamed like she saw a ghost. "We have a problem!" Said a familiar voice of a honey badger. Rem turned toward a concerned wild animal, dragging something tied-up in a rope with her. Scathach threw a corpse at the gang's feet. It was the body of a goat, but there was a problem. Goat's body wasn't supposed to be toxic green and reeked month old roadkill at this time of death. Purple-black sour-smelling liquid also dried the corpse's gum. Rem automatically flagged the black liquid on the goat's fur as a problem. Another red alert was that the white of its eyes somehow turns purple. But what truly made sent Cytorita scampering away as fast as possible was the purple appendage resembling a bramble sprouting from its spine. The strange limb was leaking with sickly sweetsmelling fluid that spelled trouble. Rem was new to Phantasia, but even he knew that these features shouldn't be on a goat. "Kiddo," Scathach said worriedly. "We have a problem--a World Enemy problem." ... It took the gang two hours and three rounds of equipment-hauling, but Dr. Cytortia finally completed her analysis. Her conclusion: "This isn't good," Cytortia, in her green safety glasses and face-protector, held the beaker containing black liquid against the sunlight. Inside the container, the green thermometer rose. "Cross that," She said, taking a closer look at the reading. "This is not only bad. It is a full-blown disaster." Rem glanced at the dissected body of a goat. He gulped. Despite feeling almost no sympathy for the dead mammals, looking at its glistening organ like this was just queasy. Once again, the goddess surpassed his expectation when she put on a pair of rubber gloves and autopsied the thing without a single complaint. Hell, Cytortia barely batted an eye when the organ unnaturally transfigured into chalk and crumble away. "What is its Mana Activity reading?" Scathach asked. Cytortia faced her. Scathach's eyes widened at the young goddess's scowl. "You don't have to tell me if it is that bad." She raised her hand in a placating gesture. Cytortia turned away and looked over her workspace. "The concentration of its fluid, the Mana reading..." She listed. "Everything points toward this thing, whatever it is, sitting on top a fountain of magical source with ample nutrients to support supply itself." Rem investigated the corpse of the goat with the same numbness he observed the world around him. "Autopsy report," Rem calmly said. "Please tell me you got something that can be used to kill whatever this is." Cytortia took out a sheet of paper and handed it at Rem while explaining in a soft voice. "The corpse displays a late stage of corruption matching a signature found in a corrupted Grand Empire's knight who died fighting a World Enemy thirty-years ago. Evidence suggested the same beast appeared in a Demonic Continent once, but due to the Continent's totalitarian authority, the data is uncertain. In both case studies, the World Enemy took root in the water sources and corrupted the entire area. The Demonic Continent managed to repel the world enemy by firebombing the area, killing the target, and 78% of the local civilians. Meanwhile, the Grand Empire attacked the site three times, losing thousands of conscripted soldiers to corruption before finally managing to derive the cure for the early stage of the corruption, and scored a victory in that incident." Rem nodded grimly. The loss of life in both cases was horrendous. "Any exploitable weaknesses," Rem said. "In case we ran into it." "Officially, the World Enemy's name is Paracis Corrupter." Cytortia sighed, spraying a gallon of disinfectant onto the table. "The previous record from the database said it is a plant species in general, so fire works. Multiple researchers I know talked against using herbicide on it." Scathach nodded. "Yes, I heard about that World Enemy. When it corrupts a person, the root will take three hours to take full-control but once it did, it-" Cytortia finished the sentence. "-It seeps into your muscle and colonizes the cells," Cytortia nodded. "This is only something known among the doctors, but the Corrupter first infects you by dousing your brain with its hormone. It was a hot research topic back when I visited the Grand Empire. Their supersoldier research branches show interest in augmenting that mechanism." Rem nodded. "You said something about the cure," Rem said. "Can you made it?" Cy and Scathach eyed him with a shocked look on their faces. "You think we will be running into a World Enemy!?" Cytortia asked incredulously. "Rem, this is serious. It is something that we need to notify the elves!" "Yes, you would die. There is no means you could cheat your way out of that," Scathach nodded. Rem sighed. "Notify the elves, but given how the Drakokia is against us, they will likely drag out the responses to rub it in our face," Rem said emotionlessly. For him, that was how society works; a disgusting place where money and power rule everything. It's just like how a particular CEO of a distinguished company said. The aim was not to create art or to make a statement. No, the goal was to produce as much money as possible. Substitute money with power, and the true nature of humanity revealed itself.  Was it any wonder the boy who got pressed into the mold of evil against his better judgment lost the ability to care? Was it any wonder that he worshipped the incarnation of hope in that cynical world? Rem sighed. In a certain way, he was no different from a fanatic or a weapon. "Just prepare it," said the boy who was more weapon than man. "We might run into that thing in this forest. Murphy's law existed for a reason." ... Cytortia's mana surged. Jasmine's essence, an Angel Tear stone, and 350 ml of water from a consecrated ground age 100 years upward all laid in front of her; the water in a transparent vial, the pale-blue tear-shape stone with smooth ivory texture and a miniature bottle of sweet-smelling liquid. The goddess, much to her witness's awe, swirled her mana into a whirlpool.  Most Alchemists would use flames for refining, but Cytortia's disagreed. Fires would destroy the quality of the ingredient. Sudden temperature alteration might affect the material's microstructure, forcing unnecessary aging processes for metallic raw material. The best method was to distill the natural property in the ingredient directly, but that required a massive level of practice, which most Alchemists didn't have due to their laziness. Cytortia might be many things from tad naive to overactive, but she was diligent. She uncapped the bottle and the vial, throwing its content into the whirlpool with a practiced motion. The mixture merged to form a smooth glittering fluid spinning in the whirlpool. The main challenge of this formula was the Angel Tear Stone. Common alchemists would grind it into powder for a faster diffusion rate, at the cost of wasting 80% of the stone content to the background. Thankfully, through trial and error, Cytortia developed another method. She saved the stone preparation for last, wrapping it in Jasmine+water solution before using her mana and [Phase Manipulation] to breach the stone and combine the mixture. Inside the whirlpool, invisible energy coiled around the stone and fragmented the object a suppressed flash. From her sleeve, Cytortia produced a glass vail the size of an average thermos and guided the whirlpool inside it with a wave of her hand. While stainless steel is an okayish container, a cure like these would require an especially forge crystalline glass to maintain the product quality. The goddess in green smiled smugly. "Tadah! The Corruption Cleanser is complete," She turned toward her audience with a smile. "95% purity cure that could be used to treat at least a hundreds of people once diluted. Most of those money-grubbers would only manage something half as good." Scathach gave a smile like a cat finding her prey. Rem shivered. He knew this aura. It was the same aura that the honey badger emitted when he won that game of Monopoly. As for the goddess, her cheerfulness shrunk into a pitiful tremble. A forbidden memory of a pitiful goddess carried off to a slaughter resurfaced with a roar.  Between the cleanly disinfected table and the carcass smoldering in the background, the honey badger looked almost like a tiny innocent animal about to get dissected. It was a facade. The badger's eyes sharpened with killing intent. Spear of fire blazed into her hand. Scathach spun around, frightening the duo into near-death and stomp one foot firmly on the ground. "YOU FOOL HAD BEEN SPYING ON THIS IDIOT FOR AN HOUR!" the badger gave a war cry, shocking the birds above into a panic flight. "IF YOU WANT TO WATCH, COME OUT OF THE TREE LIKE TRUE MEN!" The badger's posture was perfect, inspite of her diminutive height only reaching up to Cytortia's knee. Her leg lent the strength to her arm, which launched the spear of flames. The spell signed the air and grasses around her to a cinder. The spear pierced a thick branch of a tree, cleaving it from the trunk and leaving behind a trail of fire. "HEEEEEEEEEEELP!" The branch and wood fell with a certain girl with a bow slung behind her shoulder. Rem stared in fascination, but Cytortia was faster. Her volunteer spirit pushed her body to catch the girl in distress. Yet, Cy was never good at timing or catching heavy objects, and thus, instead of a beautiful princess carry, the goddess received the girl with her back in impact painful enough to make Scathach winced.  The impact which would kill a mortal wasn't lethal to a goddess, but it was, without a doubt, going to sting. Cytortia's body twitched like a dying cockroach before laying dead still, sandwiched between a dazed elf and hard, unforgiving ground. Rem took this a moment to grab a piece of towel and used it to choke out the fire. He didn't want the elf to go to war with Scathach. His selfless moral-code wouldn't allow the pointy ear prick to suffer as he did. As for Scathach, she investigated her newest victim. The elf had jet black hair and eyes as blue as the summer sky. She wore an old tatter tunic that was beginning to resemble a rag. It was clothing that was getting too small for her. Her hair was raw and dirtied with twig and leaves. A black ring was fully visible under that eyes. Yet, despite the wild dragging her down, the elf was beautiful. Her face was dazzling. Her lush lip and refined nose fit her perfectly. Pair of long elf ears fanned celestially within that hair. Her feature caused Rem to pause. Yesterday, he rubbed the hair very similar to the one before him. But unlike that little heiress, this girl looked a bit more down to Earth--a feat that shouldn't be too hard with how thin she was. "Magnolia Drakokia?" Rem said, stunned. The girl's eyes widened. "You know my sister," the elf said quietly. "How is she doing?" It's appeared Murphy's law got abolished because their target just landed on them--literally.

Unlike Luxinna, who soloed her way to innovation, Melody and Hikma teamed together in their journey of self-discovery. The majestic reason for such a combo: they were clueless. Yes, the duo drew a blank. They mulligan on creativity. Inventiveness in the cerebral cortex of both demon/human buddies curled up and died. Any aspect of innovation ceased to exist the moment they picked up the pen. “My ability is transforming into a bloody dragon!” Melody screeched to the uncaring sky. “How the fuck does he expect me to take that forward.” “He won’t ask us the impossible,” Hikma calmly assessed the situation. “What on earth with his convolution?” Melody’s complaint flowed out of the crack dam. “Just tell us the damn direction. At least Scathach have the clue how to guide people. Rem tosses us to the wood and expects us to make it back.” “I believe that was his point,” Hikma stated. “Rem is a staunch believer in MTG black. He wants us to be self-sufficient above all. I think Rem wants our answer to be ours, not his.” “Wow, thanks for a vote of confidence, Rem! Didn’t stop me from getting smack around by — OWW!” Melody made the wrong turn during her rant and ended up re-opening her internal injuries. She fell on the floor clutching her abdomen in pain. Hikma reacted immediately and cast a healing Arcane. “Don’t move too much. You are still healing.” “Oww,” Melody mumbled. “You and your flexibility—cheaters.” “Yeah,” Hikma agreed. “Hey, Mel, why did our mages are so gob smack about my Arcane? I heard they say something about affinities behind my back.” Melody snorted. “First, don’t call me Mel. Second, most mages only few element affinities they excel. Shyme, for example, excelled in Wind and Fire. Some like Chuang Tianshang have overpowering strength in one element. But in rare cases like Lux’s sister, Magnolia Drakokia, they hit as high as four or five. No one but you — Hikma — in the history of Phantasia uses over six. I saw you used Holy, Dark, Fire, Ice, Water, Wind, Earth, Nature, some weird mind stuff and you keep pulling out more. Those mages are thankful you are on our side because they are afraid of a monster with no upper limit on attributes range.” Hikma blinked. He didn’t realize how impressive he was until Melody spelled it out loud. “What about you?” Hikma asked. “Fire and Dragon?” Melody laughed. “Hikma, dragon is not an element. They are freaking monsters.” It was at that moment Hikma’s metaphorical foot stubbed the treasure chest. “Mel, listen to me,” Hikma chose his words with care. “Dragon is a separate universe of affinities?” “What?” Mel blinked. “Mel,” Hikma treaded on the path Rem waited for them to discover. “What species of dragon do you transform into?” … Enma Shyme stood flabbergasted.  Earth-quarter burnt around her. Shyme’s barely existing conscience ached at the thought of leaving Chamomile and Kruger to rally the Fire-quarter. But she needed to be sure. She must know what happened to Cytortia. Shyme’s mission was simple — find whoever caused Cytortia’s life-stele to break and tore him apart. No one hurt her friend and escaped in a single piece. Shyme seated firmly on her warpath with Orwell Mehest right on top of her hit-list. Hence, Shyme fought her way past an army of undead, constructs and abominations Orwell deployed across the Earth-quarter to reach her mansion and her entire arsenal of magical tools. Hours for future consideration vanished the moment Cytortia’s life was in danger. The divine fox-girl hurled a burning Amalgam War-machine into a pack of hunting hounds made of Spiritium, sank every flying unit Orwell deployed, and fought past enough Skeleton to build a mountain. Her designer clothes were dirty, ragged from her battle across the urban war-zone. But to her shock, her house was pristine. Charon Sol — her brainwash maid — greeted her with a smile. “Welcome home, Mistress,” Charon bowed. “You look exhausted. Do you need the change of cloth?” Shyme could never get used to an accommodating Chuang Tianshang. “Yes, why is the house not burning,” Shyme cried. Charon blinked. “I don’t exactly remember, Mistress, but I believe a certain mage arrived to defend the house. She burns the invaders down and left.” Shyme blinked. “What?” That was the moment Waiter arrived. “Lady Shyme!” Waiter huffed. “What a relief to see you safe and sound.” “Lancaster,” Shyme asked her Waiter. “What the hell is going on?” Lancaster sighed. “To sum its short, I believe our friend gave Chuang Tianshang more than a mind-wipe. They gave her something ridiculous.” … Melody was inside a pitch-dark corridor. She slashed her finger before the void, creating a gate of fire in the bleak blackness. Melody Solarmaria walked past the door of majestic flames and into another world she was so familiar with. The town of Millian was in flames. Her childhood home was aflame, washed in the smell of soot and arid inferno. “This aesthetic sucks.” “Dragons are not famous for pretty buildings or majestic architecture,” said a familiar woman. “Deal with it, Melody Solarmaria.” “You are my Legend,” Melody turned toward the woman she was expecting to see. “From Luxinna's account, you choose the form of the significant event in our life. I can’t remember my father and I had a decent childhood — that left my mother as the only form you can take.” The visage of Ebony Solarmaria clapped. “That is my girl. Smart. But sadly, as your friend Rem can attest, intelligence isn’t an indicator of wisdom. I mean, you only reach this local thank to your bro Hikma.” “To the business,” Melody sternly brought forth the issue. “My trail. That is the reason you cut my access to the Multiverse Consciousness.” False Ebony shrugged. “Yep, guilty as charge. But in fairness, your mind will collapse if you access the Astral Realm at your mental capacity. You don’t have the WIS of your friends to navigate the memories. Worst, your affinity is far too difficult to handle compare to that elves’ lightning. The lore of dragon — of our royal-blood — isn't for the faint of heart.” Melody cut to the chase. “But it can give me a boost, right?” “Totally,” Ebony clapped. “With that perception you receive through this trail, you might finally get rid of Ma’s Skill-blocker.” Melody recalled the tattoo on her back and growled. Her mother ultimate technique was a sore spot for her. “You mean [Anima Enchanting] is on the table.” “Who knows?” Ebony grinned. “But we both know you won’t back down. Not after getting your ass kick by Mr. Broken. Your draconic spirit loathes defeat. We thirst for victory. You will not rest until you crush that humiliation.” “Come.” “Very well,” Ebony transformed into a wall of flames. “Bare it well, Solarmaria.” The flames engulfed her. … Melody Solarmaria floated in the ashen void. The grey ashes surrounding her alighted with million sparks. She witnessed the various sizes of glowing embers shone like kindle of hope in that grey space. Behold, our histories, each kindle of fires represent our past, present and futures. From the lowest worm to the king of the sky, the dragon’s blood remembers it all. Now, choose which branches in our grand heritage will you climb. Pick well, Melody Solarmaria. This choice decides your destiny. You must navigate through the trap and lies and learn the lesson of the World. Melody floated in that space. She gazed into the flames. In that glow of sparks, she witnessed a behemoth rising out of the ocean. She glimpsed the unrivaled king of the sky, whose speed surpassed the sound barrier. In one spark, a massive winged serpentine emerged from the depth of a planet’s molten core and roared, shattering the landscape. By witnessing these grand images first hand, Melody understood how badly she underestimated her True Magic. Never once did she ask what type of dragon she was transforming into. The term dragon covered so many myths, species and genome that grouping them in a generic subcategory was a display of unbelievable ignorance. “This isn’t a test I can fail, is it?” Melody asked Bingo. No matter what happens, you will walk away with something, but your draconic pride won’t bear with regret. This might not be the test you fail, but it is the one you can regret. Regret is a worst blemish compares to a measly failure for us who stand at the apex. Melody looked among the floating embers. The Melody few months ago would already elected the most powerful dragon of the bunch, but the current Melody was sharper. That response was too obvious. It was a trap weaved for the restless Princess’ lust for power. However, this Melody learned the virtue of patience. She couldn’t fail this test, but that meant that the World was confident in stifling the result. From what she gathered, the lesson of the World focused around humility and self-growth. Satiating lust for power was the last objective of this test. “It is a trick,” Melody stated her guess. “You said branches. This means the dragon’s species exists as a family tree. The question isn’t which species I pick, but the genome — my evolution path. These selections are a smoke-trick. The more powerful the dragon shown in the ember, the weaker its potential growth.” Melody delivered the truth. “The lesson you want to teach is to never judge the object by its current value, but in what it can be.” Silence… All accomplishment is a fruit of failures. Communities built metropolis on flat earth. Dragon ruling the sky was once an egg. Those who only see the surface and mock weakness should wield only surface shallow power. Only through growth an effort can one wisely use an awe-inspiring might. You have grasped the simple test of vision, but what do you plan to do with it. Melody reached out with her mind and searched through all the embers. She needed o go beyond her predecessor. If she were to triumph in her rematch with Wayward, she must set her goal higher than the throne of Demonic Continent. She needed to aim higher than the sky and mastered the heritage her mother left behind. Melody filtered out every option, leaving her only one choice. Flames around her extinguished, leaving only one plume of glowing ember behind. My lord. Among all our heritage you pick that, do you? Do you realize how arduous it is to grow that baby to adulthood and attain atavism? “I understand the price is steep,” Melody replied. “The climb must be immense, but I am certain I won’t regret this.” Spoken like a true Dragon. Very well. You pass Melody Solarmaria. The glowing ember in Melody’s palm transformed into a black dragon the size of a poodle. Its scales were blacker than night with a speck of white, as if the very cosmos clocked the dragon. The dragon breathed an azure glowed of raw plasma. ... Melody woke up from her meditation in her [Dragon Manifestation]. The illusory scale around her body faded, replaced with armor of black scale. Her eyes changed color from golden to fiery orange. Two black-wings spanned from her back and bladed tail materialized in a glowed of flames. Melody’s demon horn fused and shifted into a crown of bones. It was a final merging of True Magic with Melody. Her [Heavenly Eyes] gazed at the World’s Mana. Her Dragon's blood allowed her to comprehend the world like ever before. She immersed herself, absorbing the aspect of that unknown world to her soul and submerged her mind to the movement of light spectrum, Mana, and atomic makeup of materials — committing them to her heart. After a full hour of intense submersion, the demoness reached for the wiry armband she had with her ever since she learned how to forge and ripped off the Skill-blocker Ebony put on her. The time had arrived to claim her birthright. She focused herself on that light-spectrum. Her mother blocked her ability to master [Enchanting] or [Advance Enchanting] for one reason. It will slow down her ability to learn Ebony Solarmaria’s signature technique and Magnum opus — [Anima-Enchanting]. The special enchanting technique invented by Ebony, earning her the title of Duchess of the Craft. Enchanting requires knowledge of spells, sigils and raw material, but [Anima Enchanting] takes the comprehension of soul. You need to interact with the material Mana to the point you can recall its internal signature and composition to augment them with your own. To master my theory, I have to train alone in the wild for years for a result to bear fruit. But I believe that your [Heavenly Eyes] will be big enough of a catalyst. Until your eyes reached the level where it comprehend those ‘souls’ of enchanting, do not take this Skill-blocker off and learn [Enchanting]. That skill will only tempt you to use it as a crutch to stifle your learning.  That was what her mother said when she forbade Melody from learning [Enchanting]. From that day forward, Melody Solarmaria made enchanted weapon by hand. She painstakingly carved each enchantment line when normal forger used Mana to draw the line for them. Her struggle of the last decade — the sweat, toils, blisters and enormous self-control — they all paid off at this last moment. In that form of humanoid dragon, the second Duchess of the Craft emerged. From that moment, none in her generation had qualifications to match her in crafting. Even ancient monsters in the craft needed to give her the same respect they gave her mother. Melody flipped back to her base-form. Her scale, wing and tail vanished, shifting Melody back into a demoness. … Melody Solarmaria Star Forger Str: 1520 [A] End: 1700 [A] Mag: 850 [B] Wis: 200 [D] Dex: 420 [C] Skill Active  Void Surfer Manifestation [A] Radioactive Fire [B] Heavenly Eye [A] Forging [A] Passive Draconic Essence [B] Martial Art [A] Anima Enchanting [D] … Melody’s skill underwent a change. Aside from minor stat increase, [Material Sensory] was no longer necessary for those who attained an instinctive understanding of materials’ soul. But most of her change stemmed from her new ancestry with Void Surfer Dragon. Void Surfer was a rarely seen a dragon in the Multiverse — attribute to its habitat being the void of outer space. From all the history of dragons, Melody picked a space faring species infamous for their aloofness, mystery and illusiveness. Her self-healing [Regeneration] passive and active Mana refilling [Recovery] merged into [Draconic Essence], granting her even greater regenerative power, physical and magical resistance. Her flames transformed into a radioactive plasma found at the heart of stars. It was the largest increase in power of the last four hours of training.

The octopus came toward them, like an ocean tide bringing forth new hope. “Za Wa…” Melody stared. “How are you here?”  “Boss says evil is as strong as ya believe it to be, yano,” the octopus stated. “It is just easier, not better.” “Well, quite an interesting pet you have,” Obi-wan chuckled. “So you said I’m wrong.” “No, yano,” Za Wa replied. “I said don’t claim victory until the war is over.” The octopus crawled toward Melody.  “Follow me, yano,” the octopus asked the demoness. “Boss need ya to follow me, yano.” “You mean Rem?” “Not the paladin, yano,” Za Wa crossed his arm. “It is the Boss, yano!” … Luxinna woke up in a familiar misty jade-color hall. “You again?” Luxinna exasperatedly sighed. “What is it this time?”  “You lost,” a younger version of Luxinna stepped out of the trees. “Illma knocked you out.” Luxinna forced down her headache. She couldn’t afford to stay here. That bitch would level the entire block to smithereens if given a chance. Her friend was counting on her to stop Illma. “Why bother?” A younger elf asked, reading her train of thought like an exam paper. “Why bother trying when you have no chance?” “Because she will kill everyone.” “True, but people die every day. Those that die today are barely a trickle in the bucket of time. Can you save all of them? What arrogance pushes you to interfere in pre-ordained fate?” Luxinna looked at the girl. There was something more to this than a simple conversation. What was the purpose of all this? In fact, why did she chose now of all time? “What do you want?” Luxinna decided to cut to the chase. “There must be a reason you are asking these questions?” “I just want to know why you are so invested in stopping other people's misery,” the girl replied. “All of them are fated to go out eventually. Illma will die to the mortal coil without you doing anything?" The girl shrugged. "And even if you get up, you won't stand a chance against her. Isn’t this a time for you to run? Fighting against Illma Zoldia Road will give you nothing but suffering and blood, do you truly want that?” Luxinna thought for a moment. Weeks ago, she made a promise to herself. No matter what happened, she won’t break that vow. She would keep her word, even if it killed her. “I don’t know what I should do,” Luxinna answered honestly. “Hell, it took me a long time to accept my entire existence is a cosmic joke of epic proportion. After what I have been through, I’m not even sure being a knight is right for me. The world is such a tangled mess that not even the gods could fix it. But I do know one thing: I don’t want to see people cry in front of me.” Luxinna sighed. “Maybe everything will end, maybe it won’t, but I don’t want to see anyone in front of me suffer as long as I can still fight,” the elf said. “Rem put it better than anyone. I don't want to see my history repeating on someone else, so I will be the hero I never had. Someone who leaps in and shows them everything will be fine." “You can’t do that,” the girl replied flatly. “You are powerless.” “I know.” To the girl's surprise, Luxinna offered her hand. “That why I am asking you to lend me that power,” Luxinna said. “As a knight, no, as a powerless mortal, I ask you to give me the power to avert those tragedies. You're an aspect my True Magic, aren't you? If you are my Legend, then you must have that answer. Please, give me that miracle; the power to save everyone in front of me.” The girl blinked, mouth agape with surprise. A moment passed before she started laughing. “How shameless!” the younger Luxinna guffawed, her charcoal hair shaking with laughter. “You believe I will lend you power just because you say so!? What arrogance!?” “It sounds selfish,” Luxinna laughed, her golden highlight contrasted with her twin's pure black-hair. “But I sign on to fight the world, so yeah, I’m arrogant enough to believe I can save everyone. Only now, I want it to be we.” “This is magnificently idiotic,” the younger Luxinna concluded in a deeper voice. “But if you dare ask, I shall dare to answer. Be proud, young one, you have surpassed my trail. You truly believe what you sell.” The girl took Luxinna's hand, and the shower of gold obliterate the misty jade court in one blast. … Ebony felt the presence before she saw it. A falling star of multicolor light rocketed from the sky. The ceremonial blessing succeeded, but this power wasn’t like any elemental forces or high-ranking spirits. It was something much more powerful, so powerful that its collision created a gravitational singularity. Such an event would usually crack the continent in half, but instead of shattering the earth, the excess energy flew to the sky in a storm of flying stars. Inside the singularity, a woman dressed in rainbows was giving the sword its finishing touch. Ebony wouldn’t like it this. The demoness hated it when someone butted in when she was working, but Satholia didn’t have a choice. Horizon Dawn was on a timer. It took her many subterfuges to infiltrate the world as a blessing and finished the blade, grinding and shaping it to the ideal quality. “Your name is [Historia],” the goddess of Center told the blade. “Now, do what you must.” The blade righted itself and flew toward its target much to Ebony’s chagrin. Meanwhile, inside the fading singularity, Satholia smiled. Let see how evil dealt with her counterattack. … Illma breathed a sigh of relief. That roach just ate her strongest attack head-on. Even if she somehow survived, that masked cockroach would be too injured to move. Illma eyed the screaming kid with a grin. Now it was time to continue with her business. That was the moment a wave of cold wind sent a shiver down her neck. Out from the row of flattened houses, an elf stepped into view. The girl's mask had broken off, revealing the sky-blue eyes laced with golden light. Blood tainted her hair, turning her golden highlight copper. Her clothing ravaged with slash marks and blood. The elf looked like a blood-spattered walking dead. Nobody should be alive after that much punishment. Illma stared and subtly changed her mind.  That bitch couldn't be related to cockroaches. She was probably their distant, time-traveling ancestor. “Wow,” Illma feigned her confidence, trying to stop her opponent undying resilience from freaking her out. “You survive. Excellent! I will be damned if you aren't here when I reduce these trash to burnable garbage.” Luxinna stepped closer. “Be careful. You are inside my [Field of Pain]. It would be boring if you died from brain death rather than my direct attack!"  Then Luxinna disappeared, and Illma’s shield sparked from the collision with the elf's fist. The blow sent the Untouchable rocketing into the building behind her, demolishing it into a pile of wood. Illma was unharmed, but she couldn't help blanching. That punch was a league above the elf’s original power-level. Then she realized a more distressing fact: the elf was inside the [Field of Pain], and she was still standing. “Impossible,” for the first time in the fight, Illma’s confidence broke. “You should be screaming on the ground right now? What type of trick is this?” “Sorry, the pain dispenser won’t work on me anymore,” Luxinna said. Glass weaved around her body, creating her shining combat gear; arm-guard, tiara, breast-plate, and greave. All the instruments shone with grace and refinement from the enhanced gliding. “Shut up!” Illma yelled, raising her hand toward a man groaning in pain. Crimson ribbons of light whipped across the air and churned around her palm, creating the spiral of red energy as the blood-red pool beneath her surged to life. [Sacrificial Rite: Bloodstain Judgment] Luxinna disappeared, much faster this time. The spiral of destruction fired true at its target. But contrary to Illma’s expectation, the destination wasn’t the crying civilian. Something yanked her hand away at the last possible moment, diverting the spellwork toward the wide-open sky.  Illma barely registered what happened until the current coursed through her body. “Well, it appears the table has turned,” Luxinna said, gripping Illma's arm and glaring at her with a chilling eye. “Are you planning to knock yourself out, Illma? Or should I do it for you?” Illma didn’t even register the question. Pain immunity didn't mean her body wasn't scorching from the discharge. Several questions flashed into her head as her brain attempted to cope with the elf sudden transformation. How did the elf pierce her barrier? How did she move so fast? So many questions, yet no helpful answer. “What the hell are you?" Luxinna said nothing. She was a horrendous lair. The truth was the recent developments were the result new subset of her True Magic: [Serene Glass]. True Magic could evolve into a higher form. If [Static Glass] was the power to create electricity-generating glass, then [Serene Glass] is an ability to take the material further beyond. With property ranging from impossibly high tensile-strength, ridiculous biocompatibility, and electrical superconductivity, [Serene Glass] was the ideal electrical-fiber engineer could only see in their dream. To an untrained eye, this might not sound like much. However, the [Serene Glass]'s practical usage already turned a hopeless fight into a definite victory. Bundles of microscopic [Serene Glass] wires could be weaved into armor boasting the durability, strength, and power output that left Luxina's original [Static Glass] armor in the dust. Furthermore, [Serene Glass: Armor] also magically replicated computing functions in CPU, increasing Luxinna's processing ability to the level a mortal being shouldn’t reach. But the real death bell sealing Illma’s fate was the [Serene Glass]'s control over Central-Nervous-System. Due to its biocompatibility, Luxinna could augment her nervous system with [Serene Glass] as magical super neurons she could control at will. Luxinna named this technique [Overdrive].  [Overdrive] in all intense and purpose was a broken ability. With it, Luxinna could overclock her muscle, linked with her armor to perform complex calculations, accelerated her reflex to the point the world practically stop and much more. One of these new perks allowed her to tune her sensory input, and thus dampened her pain. It all translated to simple math, Illma's [Pain Transfer] wouldn't work if her opponent could disable the pain function in her nervous impulse. Illma's confident facade broke as she realized her pain transmission could no longer work, but she still refused to surrender. “[Sacrificial Rite: Bloodpulse]!” Illma glowed red as an epicenter of a crimson explosion emerged from her chest. In Luxinna's mind, the world slowed. She registered a groaning man behind her. Two houses away in front of her, on the ruin of a second-floor building, was an injured woman. The children she pushed away from harm during Illma's initial attack was still in the red. The explosion barely moved as she solved each problem with [Overdrive] elevating her precision, and speed, to the realm of absurdity.  A triple-stacked [Savage Lotus] emerged to protect the man. Another [Savage Lotus] formed behind the children for quick mobility. Luxinna also put two more [Savage Lotus] as a stepping stone in the sky to finish the job. Time resumed.  Illma's explosion burst out at high-speed, but Luxinna's overclocked muscle was faster. She grabbed the two kids in the blast proximity and burst out of range. The elf bounced across the two loti for extra speed, landing right in front of the woman before casting another triple-stacked lotus. The explosion shook the surrounding area, wiping several buildings in the South-East side of the town. Illma surveyed the damage with a crestfallen expression. She saw an unharmed man shielded by the lotus, her worse nemesis standing tall, protecting an unconscious woman and two children. There were no casualties despite the demolished building. How could the battle turn this absurd? That last spell should kill something despite people fleeing this area in drove. Illma procured a healing potion and drank it greedily. The situation was catastrophic. She already chewed out 5 out of 18 [Sacrificial Rite] in her arsenal. Even with those attacks, the elf was still walking. With only thirteen shots left against a monster that shrugged off everything she threw at her, she only had one way out. “You should be proud, you stupid cockroach!” Illma spread her hands, and out of her high-grand storage device, eight spherical, flying drones appeared. Each of them started glowing with Illma's signature crimson light. The Untouchable tried to hide her grimace. She usually avoided this particular weapon if she had a choice. Experimental prototypes were too risky even for her. “These robots are cutting-edge spell-casting aid,” Illma proudly boasted. “They are fully armed with my shield and capable of casting my spell! Use any trick you want! You insignificant worm only have yourself to blame for challenging an Untouchable. Luxinna smiled. Insignificant worm, these words once stung her. But from a mouth a cornered, spoiled brat, it just sounded corny. With her eyes shining gold, Luxinna brought forth her performance. [Serene Glass: Overdrive I (Nerve)] Luxinna’s CNS went nova. Every neuron, every impulse, every mental threshold leaped over its limit. Luxinna’s power level doubled, and the world slowed to a stop. There were two flaws in Illma’s shield. An error in its design that allowed her to bypass its defense. Those same flaws also exist in the drone. Firstly, the barrier must open up to launch an attack. A fast enough pre-emptive counter would be able to strike past the defense. And Luxinna exploited said flaw with her brand new attack. [Static Glass: Octuple Serene Lotuses] Eight lotuses instantaneously appeared in front of each drone. Such precise and fast pre-emptive counter was within the power of Luxinna's newest attack series: [Serene Lotus]. Luxinna groaned. She needed to update all her [Savage Lotus] moveset when this was over, so troublesome. The lotuses detonated, reducing the drones to smithereens moment the shield switched-off for firing. It was a feat that should be impossible without a transcendent level of timing. Sadly for Illma, Luxinna had that in spade. Before Illma could react, Luxinna threw her last throwing-knife. Her overclocked muscle sent the projectile flying at sub-sonic speed. Illma, her nerve flayed from the development, panicked. Thankfully for the Untouchable, her automatic shield sprung up in time. But that brought up its second weaknesses: the shield focused its energy to block the first attack before cycling the matrix toward the next one. This cycling time ranged in a microsecond. If an attack stuck beneath the micro-second window, the shield blocking strength would drop significantly. Normally, launching multiple attacks in microsecond apart would impossible for most living beings, but Luxinna already surpassed the requirement. The elf followed the knife, her muscle overclocking, her posture bent to perform the moves she perfected during her intense precision-control training. It was a super speed thrust channeling her power into a single point, a penetrator attack that shattered even steel. [Serene Glass: Overload Blade] Crash! Illma looked as at knife ricocheting from her shield, then at the armored hand crackling with electricity. The hand severed her arm by the wrist, slicing her shield generator into two sparkling halves, and left behind a cauterized stump. Illma screamed, but her misery was far from over. Luxinna’s free hand clenched into a ball. Her nervous-system overrode all survival limits, lifting her strength's stats above its written value. “Grit your teeth, Illma.” A punch slammed into the Untouchable. The force involved broke three of her ribs and sent flying at the speed of a cannonball. Illma Zoldia Road crashed into a random roof which barely stopped her momentum, and tumbled across the sky before falling out of sight. After a massive blood loss and agony, Luxinna Latoria of Horizon Dawn stood victorious.

Horizon Dawn’s prized F-U3 could be summed up as glorified blood-sucking. The gang, spearhead by the Horisearch division, modified ten high-grade harpoons with an improvised suction system created by Ebony and linked it to a spare purified Space Stone. Once activated by the remote switch, the devices would begin sucking blood from the dragon and stored in the storage device remotely connected to the system. A simple quote from Rem summed it up better than anything. It might be an impenetrable god from beyond, but as long as it needs oxygen, it will die without its blood. As the Sicilian Ghost Dragon continued dragging itself to its feast, unstable anemic dizziness caught up to it. In combination with the grievous injuries it received, this mounting damage had swayed the beast immensely. The final phase of the battle was approaching fast. … Meanwhile, at the South East section of Milian, a battle resumed. “[Sacrificial Rite: Bloodstain Edge],” Illma Zoldia Road flicked her finger, sending a burning light striking through the air like a strip of extendable saw-blade. Luxinna faced the attack with controlled calmness. An impressive feat considering the distraction from panicking innocent bystander. The last time Illma fired this attack, she flew into a bar, but she lived. Her defense worked. She only needed to double its power. “[Static Glass: Double Savage Lotus],” Luxinna raised her hand. Magic weaved to create two glass lotuses stacked on top of each other. The crimson cutter shredded the first lotus layer, and the second lotus barely slowed it down. Still, that slight decrease in its speed allowed Luxinna shifted her defense enough to deflect the crimson ray. The light veered left, slicing off the restaurant's roof in the crashing sound of dust and brick. “You survive that?” Illma mocked. “How is the arm, bitch?” “Oh, it hurt like hell,” Luxinna replied honestly, blinking out tears as her arms went soft with pain. “But isn’t it bad for your body to spam those attacks?” Illma clenched her teeth. The roach had a point.[Sacrificail Rite] had an incredible attack power, but the recoil did take its toll; used it too much and her body would pay the price. Although enough healing potion could remedy its effect, it still limited her to 18 more [Sacrificail Rite] at most until she blackout. As far as she knew it, the elf couldn’t get past her shield. In conclusion, the roach only shot a winning meant outlasting at least 18 more attacks. Illma barely contained her laughter. The elf barely stood after three doses. Gave her eighteen more, and no matter how much of a cockroach she was, there would be nothing left. However, with the last two moves to go by, a one-directional attack like [Bloodstain Edge] wouldn’t do the trick; not even when boosted by her [Sacrificial Mastery (C)] skill. It appeared another [Blossom] was in order. A pool of red light oozed under Illma as she resumed her attack. “[Sacrificial Rite: Bloodstain Blossom]!” Seven orbs of crimson light materialized behind Illma. Luxinna’s eyes shone. Here come the opening she was waiting. The elf spread her arm and started the counter-attack she bounced around in her head for quite a while. Time had come to use her weeks of magical control training to good used. [Static Glass: Hextuple Savage Lotus] Luxinna flared with a golden aura. In that golden light, three pairs of double-stacked lotuses bloomed around Illma, trapping her in a rectangle formation. Each flower began to glow, dueling its light-intensity with Illma’s crimson orbs. The Untouchable wasn't amused. “Another laser blast?” Illma jeered, ignoring her predicament. “Didn’t you already try to fire those during our little chase? If I remember correctly, it fell flat, isn’t it?” “Yeah,” Luxinna confirmed. After her smoke bomb trick failed, she tried every gimmick at her disposal to disable Illma’s shield. Everything from exploding [Savage Lotus], direct brute force, and the electrical laser. All of her attacks fell flat in its place. “Luckily, I’m not aiming at you.” Illma blinked, then the lotuses fired the golden beam. The beam landed directly on its target: the crimson orbs of immense destructive power behind Illma. Three blood-red energy orbs warped unstably from the attack before swelling up in the explosion, triggering a chain-reaction and ignited the rest of the [Blossom] simultaneously with Illma at its epicenter. The Untouchable barely had time to scream. As for Luxinna, she held out her hand and poured her heart and soul into the lotus formation. The girl’s body rippled from nausea and fatigue. But she stood, emptying all her effort into the cracking lotus, trying to redirect the explosion that could render an entire city-block to rubble. The burst of red light blew into the sky, shattering every window and flattened the second stories nearby. The force chipped away the golden lotus' inner layer before breaking them, unleashing a dampened but devastating shockwave that tossed Luxinna across the floor and sent all the bystander flying. The explosion rocked the entire Milian. …  At the other side of Milian “What is that noise?” A young demoness asked an old dwarf. “Don’t move,” The dwarf hit her lightly on the head while performing first-aid. “Geez, kid these days doesn't know how to play quietly, do they? Given the power-output, that must be the Road brat fighting against someone.” “Someone is fighting Illma Zoldia Road?” Melody’s mouth hung open. “That’s suicide.” “Suicide?” The dwarf, Obi-wan, raised his eyebrows. “Like taking the entire adventurer population of Milian alone?” Melody suddenly went quiet. The dwarf laughed. “You do remind me of your old man.” “You knew my father?” “Yes, quite an interesting guy,” Obi-wan said. “Ridiculously good at accounting. He used to hire my team when he was alive. Given how much mess the Demonic Continent produced yearly, I was his regular janitor.” Melody stayed silent. “How long have you known I am his daughter?” “From the beginning,” the dwarf said. “I was one of your father regular client. Of course, I can recognize his wife; not to mention the name Majestia. Ebony lighted neon-sign right on top of you for 15 years straight. You two are lucky people this part never see your mother without a bob-cut or else your identity will be blown up to smithereens.” “Ma use to have a bob-cut?” Melody said in surprise. “Majesty liked it,” Obi-wan explained. “I miss him. He was a flawed person, but a good man.” Melody suddenly turned downcast. “Then why don’t you save him?” The girl started to tear-up. “You two are good friends, right? Why couldn't you save my dad?” The old-dwarf sighed. “Majesty had many of hidden secrets; many of which are still loose in the world,” Obi-wan mysteriously explained. “I was there, you know. He already sent your mother away and burnt his home down when I found him. I couldn’t do anything about the poison he took, but he still able to leave his last word. Your father begged me to leave his corpse to be defiled by Jekyll, saying that this is what he deserved.” “You are lying,” Melody started. “My father would never say that?” “Do you know the pain of ruling, Melody?” Obi-wan depressively explained. Melody thought back to Rem’s speech. “A guy told me being a ruler is the worse job in the world,” Melody quietly recited. “He said that it only brought suffering to you and your family. He said no one, not even the best of us, can succeed in it.” “Your friend was spot on,” Obi-wan said. “There is an old idiom: heavy is the head that wore a crown. Being a ruler, especially a war-like nation such as Demonic Continent, requires compromises. Compromises that make a good man balked if he is smart enough. Your father needed to compete with an amoral nincompoop backed by catalogs of nobles who ran your nation into the swamp for generations. To combat them, Majesty made many horrific compromises to even the odds, and those choices took its toll. In the end, what truly defeated him wasn’t Jekyll but his guilt." Melody felt her fantasy shattered like smithereens. “You mean he gave up the fight?” “More like the fight broke him,” Obi-wan said. “Your mother didn’t tell you that. I’m not surprised. It's hard to make Majesty look like a scorn hero who needs avenging when it was his life choices that done him in.” Melody remained silent.  “Is it possible to be a good king and a good person?” Obi-wan laughed. “Yes, it’s possible,” he said. “But here is a thing: dynasty always ended up falling apart. A good king might come, but it is nearly impossible to stop the later generations from losing some screw. Evil and greed are corruptive and insidious. That is a natural state of the world. Bad is far stronger than good.” … Luxinna couldn’t believe what she was seeing.  Out of the smoke, slowly stepping across the powdered pavement like an injured hound, was a bleeding and tattered Illma Zoldia Road. The Untouchable walked unnaturally toward Luxinna; skin red with burnt and clothing burnt black from the fire. The Untouchable laughed; blood-freezing malice replaced all trace of sanity she had in her voice. “I can’t believe this!” Illma screamed. “You nearly got me right through the shield! I had to blow myself up with a fire-magic to escape the worse of the explosion in time! I change my mind. I won’t kill you. I will drag you back alive, and slowly broke you into my fucking dog before separating you organ-by-organ!” Luxinna got up. “No chance, bitch!” Illma screeched. “[Sacrificial Rite: Field of Pain]!” Luxinna suddenly felt something crashing down on her. It was a pain. Raw unbearable agony ran amok in all her limbs like her muscle just spontaneously ignited. Tears clouded her eyes as her vision turned dimly red. Luxinna screamed as every part of her body, from her throat to her toes, sang the discord of pure suffering. She wasn’t the only one. All around her, the innocent bystander started falling to the ground, screeching in agony. Luxinna angrily glared at Illma. The screaming around her lighted a fire more intense than anything she ever felt. “Love it! My favorite magic. It hit everything, me included, but I don’t feel a thing!” Illma derangely laughed. “Do you know why? Because you are taking my pain for me! Here, look!” The Untouchable showed the screaming Luxinna a bulky wrist-watch. The device clicked open and ejected a charred empty cylinder. “The shield generator you work so hard to deplete!” Illma evilly crackled as she took out a cylinder filled with blue liquid and waved it in front of the elf. “All you did is waste a battery! Here look!” Illma slotted the cylinder into the watch and locked it in place. A shimmering sphere enveloped her before going transparent as the shield rebooted. “Good as new,” Illma laughed. “How it feels to see your hard work erase just by replacing a battery. That is how much of an insignificant joke you are!” Luxinna growled. Golden electricity crackled around her body as her golden armor sparked to life. The elf fought herself through her pain and got up, glaring at Illma with undying determination. “Wow,” Illma mockingly congratulated her nemesis. “You last longer than dear old Aion! Well, I know exactly how to finish you off. You both are practically the same species.” Blood Red light pooled under Illma’s feat as her skill activated, but instead of aiming at Luxinna, the Untouchable raised her hand to the left. Her finger directed at two screaming children crying in pain outside of the bar. Luxinna bit back a curse. “Be quick,” Illma winked. “[Sacrificial Rite: Bloodstain Judgment]!” A torrent of spiraling crimson ribbon wove into a spinning drill of light, digging its way toward the two children. Strand of lights scarred the ground, dragging trenches of devastation, as the spellwork barreled toward its target. Luxinna accelerated her magic to her limit, and move, pushing the children out of the blender. The elf barely had enough time to register the vortex. In that split second, her survival instinct kicked in. [Static Glass: Hextuple Savage Lotus] A shield created from stacking six [Savage Lotus] materialized in front of Luxinna. Initial four-layer got crushed in less than a second as the drill of red-light crashed Luxinna into the building behind her. The elf felt the impact full-force. The shock, compounded with all the pain Illma piled on her, shattered the fifth lotus. Still, she held on as the attack sent her past two more houses, and into a brick building that must be the bank. That was when her final lotus gave out. Then tendril warped, exploding in the tower of light.  Luxinna’s armor shattered, as the debris of the building rain down on her. … Meanwhile, on the other side of the town, Cytortia’s mouth hung open. “This isn’t supposed to happen!” “Yes,” Scathach agreed, sweat trickled down her brows. “There is nothing I can do now.” The Sicilian Ghost finally stopped moving. Severe blood loss ensured that certainty. The dragon's glassy, vacant eye gazed to oblivion. But It won’t go down like this; not even when its brain started dying from oxygen deprivation. An embedded instinct forced itself out of the dragon’s mind in its final moment. The aura of the ghost clouded the dragon, entering its mouth and depleting arteries. The dragon’s dying flesh blacken as the dead began to reanimate the beast. It fleshes lighted up with purple fires as the spirit's hatred and wrath dyed its eyes red. In less than a minute, the colossal monster transformed into an ethereal creature shielded by the dragon's scales. A beast hanging between life and death growled to the sky as purple flames seeped past the gap in its scale. “What is happening?” Cytortia said, ducking behind the ruin of collapse building outside the range of the dragon. “I don’t know,” Scathach said. “The dragon is merging with the ghost hoard. Probably an instinctual last-ditch effort to preserve its life. I believe it can be qualified as a Litch at this point.” “Not with that kind of aura,” Cytortia argued. “The mana inside it is too unstable for a successful transformation! It will blow up.” Scathach breathed slowly. They both knew the explosion of such scale would take half of Milian with the dragon. “Release F-U4,” Scathach sighed. “We need to kill the spirit reanimating the dragon’s dying cells.” “Scathach, the potion is designed to only work on living flesh, not spirits. At most, it will just delay the detonation.” “Yes, but delaying it is the only thing we could do right now.” Cytortia stifled a replied and silently pressed the trigger, causing the seven harpoons still impaling the dragon to release her invention. …   Round ‘s result: 1) Luxinna lost consciousness. Illma remains unchallenged. 2) Melody semi-recovering. 3) The dragon was going critical. No countermeasure can stop the imminent explosion. 4) F-U3 and F-U4 is unlikely to work at the current development. 5) Rem’s status unknown. Horizon lost this round hard.  … “So you are telling me evil is stronger than good,” Melody talked to the old dwarf. “Yes, sadly,” Obi-wan said. “Evil people can do what good couldn’t, and because of that, they had an overwhelming advantage.” “That isn’t true, yano,” said a small voice. Both of them turned to see the talking octopus.

Rem, decked out in his new gear, stepped out to meet the morning sun. Truthfully, he thought the protection was excessive. What was he wearing again? Long-sleeve chain-mail, a leather vest, and pant that was way too tight. On the bright side, Scathach's taste on boot was okay; black and silver-studded for the win. Sighing tiredly, Rem flipped a belt equipped with an array of throwing knives over his waist and covered his face white Venetian mask. "Someone looks like a video game character today," the badger commented wryly. "Are you trying to be the final boss's henchman?" "Oh," Rem shook his head dejectedly as he humorlessly fastened a white cape over his shoulder. "Once upon the time, I was the general of the demon lord's army. However, the hero convinced me that talent has better use elsewhere. How tragic to think a monster like me deserves such forgiveness. Miss Scathach, now I turned over a new leaf and dedicated my life as a hero secretary." "Is this a joke?" Scathach observed Rem, fearing that he must be. Then she heard the clanking of metal. Cytortia came decked in a green suit of armor from the helmet to greaves. A sword hung by her yellow leather belt while an oversized shield hiked behind her back for an extra hero point. "Ahoy, my gallant comrade!" Our goddess proclaimed heroically. "The elf lord is asking for our audience, and we shall answer! By our goddess's will, we will bring justice back to this land!" Scathach's jaw dropped to the floor. Rem smirked. ... "Welcome back to Lightwell Forest, Hero!" A smiling pudgy elf with blond hair and a goatee proclaimed. "The demon lord has invaded our realm! With our army destroyed, you are our only hope to repel this great evil! Please save us!" Rem could have sworn he heard Scathach's jaw hit the floor. Cytortia humbly knelt. "Of course," she said in a dignified voice. "We will overcome the demons and restore peace to this land! Your sacrifice won't go down in vain, my friend!" The badger's knee hit the floor a moment later. "How did this happen?" She screamed into the expanse of outer space. "When did this world become Dragon Quest!" ... Earth was not the first planet to join Phantasia. Even to this day, the first race assimilated into Phantasia was one of its greatest mystery. Multiple experts throughout Phantasia's long history regularly fought each other via angry emails about these taboo subjects. Although the fights often turned immature, resulting in many dead mascots, the expert agreed on one thing.  After the gods, it was the elves who trump the rest in antiquity. The Northland of the Elves was equal in size to the Earth's surface area. Politically, few Elven lords administered the woodland superpower. Its foundation laid on a massive mana-imbued underground water-network feeding the nation. It was a network so complicated that more than over 60% of it remained unexplored. Such closeness to the mystical water gifted the elves with a natural affinity for water and nature spell-craft. Its impact reflected in elves' culture. Every season, the elves celebrated the gift of water and life. The ruling clans would hold a massive party celebrating the generosity of the water-spirit every start of the new year, ending with a tournament contesting the ancestral art of spiritual familiar. Northland's capital of Lightwell epitomized this spiritual way. Familiar and spirit guarded the staunched magically enhanced borders. An interconnected network of red, white, and brown grove of magical cedars made the city. The system of water bridges and canals powered by the forest's natural magic created the city's connection.  At Lightwell's epicenter stood the Paradise of Light, home to a historic garden housing a gigantic ancestral tree, The Evergreen. It was a tree scraping the very heaven with a height over one kilometer. The Evergreen's root covered the Paradise of Light, providing a relaxing refuge for both young and old elves alike. That was the place the gang founded themselves. Inside a spacious cedar abode, sipping Lightwell's trademark cider with one of the city's leaders. ... In that room, Cytortia, still dressed in hero's armor, waved her hand over Scathach's blank face, checking for any reaction. Doctor Cy turned toward her audience. "She shut down," Cytortia sounded concern. "Uncle Avar, I think the practical joke broke her too much. Rem, do you have any idea how to cure her?" "Toss her into the river," Rem suggested and finished a cup of apple cider. "Wow, this stuff is good. Way too good to exist." "Thank you, young man," replied the elderly elf, Avar, as he poured Rem another glass. "It is from my orchard. I save it for a special occasion like this. Little Cy is often too busy to visit these days." The elf leaned on his intricately carved chair and enjoyed the show. "Never think I would live to see the warrior maid lost her mind," the elf said amusingly. "I might not survive this, but I won't regret it." Rem nodded, pouring a glass of cider for the fellow member of the death-seeking clan. "The stress had not been kind to her this week," Cytortia commented. She promptly left Scathach's soulless body and joined the rest in cedar sipping. After a gracious amount of time of drinking amidst the chirping squirrel, the conversation resumed. "How do you know Elder Avar anyway, Cytortia?" Rem asked. "It was quite a story," Cytortia blushed, her cheek bulging with apple.  “Indeed," Avar said, reminiscing about that hour with a faraway expression. "A few years ago, my daughter was poisoned with a lethal toxin. She would die within three days, and I couldn't find anyone to treat it. Luckily, lady Cytortia was there. Who would have thought an eleven-year-old goddess is an S-rank Alchemist studying under the queen of heaven herself?" Rem sipped his cider. It appeared the goddess had an incredibly hidden depth under the useless veneered. Maybe she was hiding- The goddess turned redder and tried to hide under the table. Scratch that, she was useless in almost everything aside from Alchemy. Avar continued his tale. "I was not always a good man. When my daughter laid within an inch of death, I begged heaven for someone, anyone, to save her. I was ready to do anything. Who would know that a tiny, little goddess would come up to ask me why I am crying?" "I wasn't doing much," said the bashful voice of Cytortia. "I am just doing the right thing." "Most people find doing the right thing difficult," Avar gave her a reassuring smile. "Yet, you never hesitated. Do you know we threw a quiet celebration last year when you became an S-Rank Alchemist?" Rem gave a small smile of agreement. Inside that world of poppy and the black sky, a tiny semblance of humanity was still glowing no matter how steeped into insanity its host becomes. "You are too soft," Scathach chose that moment to wake up from her shock and ruin everything. "Other Heavenly Daughters would demand a steep price for that boon. You asked nothing but a meal or fresh produce. That was an opportunity burned for nothing." Rem's eyebrows ticked; someone needed to beat some idealism into the badger's mind. "I don't know Scathach," Rem said, biting into an apple and looked at Scathach with the intent for murder. "I don't think exploiting that opportunity will help do anything when the World Enemy invaded. It will only persuade a certain someone to give you another [Space Crush Impact]." Scathach went pale and decided that shutting up and avoided pissing the all-powerful Satholia was an excellent life choice. With Scathach defeated, Rem mentally put the other Heavenly Daughter on the enemy list. But before he got them, he must accomplish his mission first. "Lord Avar, to tell you the truth. We are after someone you might know." "Yes, Uncle Avar," Cy added with a hint of concern. "A certain goddess recommended me to find someone called the Exile Lighting." Avar's face lost several shades of color, seemingly aging several years in a few seconds.  The elderly elf rubbed his chin in contemplation and sighed. "Exile Lightning... this is a truly fitting name for her," he said, slumping into the chair. "That day moment wasn't my proudest moment," Avar poured himself a cider to chase away his depression. "Before she left to join Lady Artio, my daughter had asked me to adopt that girl, but I couldn't. The Drakokia is already looking for an excuse to control Lightwell, taking her into Avar Clan would cause a political crisis. The best I could do was discouraging my peers from a more-" He paused. "Lethal approach." Scathach dropped her fork. "The Drakokia want her dead?" Scathach said in shock. "Who or what made them go that far?" "Are you honor-bound not to disclose her existence?" Rem asked. His tone was silent and contemplating. Scathach shivered. The boy's imagination was the stuff of nightmares. And she knew him for only a week. Rem contemplating was a sign to flee to the hill. "Technically, I had been forced to take an oath not to lend her any aid," Avar admitted, but a sheepish smirk sneaked past his sourness. "But if she finds aid by coincidence, it won’t count as helping." Scathach and Rem smiled. Those two loved abusing loopholes. Avar went on. "If anybody asks, I am just confessing my shame to a family's friend and asking for her advice. What that said family's friend did with this information is something above my control. Isn't that right lady Cytortia?" Cytortia clapped with excitement. "Oh, so you are pretending you are not helping us while helping us!" Everybody else rolled their eyes. Scathach dropped her fork and groan. Rem looked as if he wanted to complain to heaven, and Avar reconsidered whether this was a good idea. "I will pretend I never hear that," Avar replied, fed up with living. "Do you ever heard of the Drakokia clan?" "One of, if not, the most powerful Elven clan in Lightwell," Scathach answered. "Their clansmen excel in ice and holy spell-work. They are also ridiculously good with nature familiars. Their most powerful ancestor and matriarch is a former-priestess in the Isle of Prophecy. Quite a feat if I may say so." "Yes, that would be it," Avar nodded. "Originally, the clan was to be inherited by the eldest daughter Luxinna Drakokia but her awakening, pardon my word, was regarded as a terrible omen." "How bad can it be?" Scathach asked in disbelieve. "How bad could her skill be for the clan to order a death sentence?!" Avar stood up and walked over to the window in grief. "Why do you think she is called Exile Lighting?" Scathach stunningly dropped her folk again. "No freaking way," Cytortia's jaw drop. "An elf with bloody lightning magic? B-But you guys are terrified of lightning!" "Yes, lightning," Avar dreadfully stated. "Overwhelming against water, and the best counter against our familiar-art. Even those of us that dabble with flames and Alchemy cowers before lightning raw destructiveness. Luxinna Drakokia's power is our bane. None of us believe one of our children would be gifted with such an all-destroying beast until we saw with our own eyes. To make it worse, Luxinna has the worse talent in familiar-art of our generation." Avar sighed. "It is as if Luxinna Drakokia is as a punishment for her father, Lucian, for his ambition and brutality. He always wants to expand the Drakokia's influence outside of Lightwell. Ever since I had known him, Lucian only lost his composure twice. First, when he returned from the Forbidden Zone defeated, and the second time was the moment Luxinna's awaken with lighting aptitude. The daughter of the clan was all but disowned that day." "Your daughter took pity on her," Rem said emotionlessly. Cytortia could hear an echo of yearnings in that voice. A hope that at least there was some good left to defend in this world. It was sad, looking at the boy who treated such a minor act of kindness with reverence. Avar answered the boy. "Eva and Luxinna are an old friend. Those two are practically sisters. Alas, things only got worse. It happened three years ago when Luxinna's younger sister, Magnolia, reached the age to awaken." "Drakokia got their golden girl." Rem guessed with no anger but a disappointment. "Ice, wind, water, and nature," Avar nodded. "Even among the elves, to have an aptitude for four different attributes is incredible. It took less than a day for the Lightwell council, led by Lucian himself, to convict the poor girl under a charge of heresy."  He looked visibly ashamed. "As a member of the council, I managed to persuade them to give her some room. In the end, we banished a twelve-year-old girl with no formal training of any kind into the wild and never to return upon pain of death." Rem nodded, accepting the result. The case wasn't a total loss from his point of view. However, that acceptance didn't apply to Cytortia. She wasn't disappointed. Seething was undoubtedly a better term to describe her temper. "It isn't your fault! You did the best you could?" Cytortia said, gritting her teeth as she smashed her fist on the table. "In every religion, the coming of lightning was a punishment of heaven against those who commit evil," Rem said airily. "What do you think, Scathach?" Scathach spent some time considering deeply before giving her replies. "How high is her MAG when awakened?" Scathach's eyes open up. "Are there other noticeable stats?" "290," Avar said. "Her dexterity is 295, which is absurd even among the elves." "Incredible," Scathach whispered dangerously. "What the hell got into Lucian Drakokia? The matriarch will murder him the moment she comes out of seclusion." The badger murmured in regret, rage, and disbelieve. Knowing Scathach, Cytortia dreadfully feared the coming of the badger's mass-murdering season. Beside her, Rem regretted that he didn't have some popcorn. "What do you mean, Scathach?" Cytortia asked. She didn't remember seeing the badger getting this angry before. "Luxinna Drakokia is practically a demi-god," Scathach clenched her teeth in outrage. "Her reflexes and magic potential are top class even among the elves. Combine with her lightning aptitude, and she would be nigh-unstoppable in live combat. If I properly trained as a child, even Tie Hua would be hard-pressed to match her." Scathach volcanically exploded from rage. "What the fuck is wrong with the Drakokia? They gave birth to a golden goose and tossed her into a garbage compactor! I would kill to train her, and they threw that privilege away like that. Are they insulting me?! Wasting a natural resource like this is unforgivable!" She grabbed Rem and Cytortia and dragged them to the door like a carry-bag. "Err..." Rem put up a half-hearted resistance. "What do I get to do with this?" "My arm!" Cytortia cried as her body slid ungracefully across the floor. "It is coming out of my socket." "Shut up, both of you!" The badger yelled back. "If you two still had any semblance of honor, then come with me to avenge your future kouhai as good sempai should! Fuck the Drakokia! Fuck the political fallout! Someone will pay today! I will drag the matriarch out of her seclusion if I have to!" Thankfully, a maid rushed into the room in time to prevent the mass murder. "Elder Avar," The maid bowed. "Lord Artos Sevar and Lady Magnolia are right outside. Lord Lucian is also with them. They are demanding an audience with lady Cytortia." "This is outrag-" "Good!" Scathach savagely grinned. "I loved it when the prey delivered itself gift-wrapped like this." The badger lifted the rag-dolled Rem by the neck. "Kid, you are one of the worst cheaters I have ever known, and likely the most vengeful. So listen to me. I want them humiliated before I come to get them. And I don't mean losing face. I want history to note down that I am doing the world a favor when I blast these multiversal garbages out of the water. Do you have a plan?" Rem smirked insidiously and started the whispering of doom. Rem might accept the cruelty, but that didn't mean he wasn't pissed. That calmness was just a veneer to insulate his sadism. Cytortia heard the entire plan. She nodded and stood up regally for the first time in the known memory. "Uncle Avar, please told them to come."

An hour earlier "Ok, useless goddesses, we just got reported about some lost guy during the world merging," the badger said as she dispassionately dragged the tied-up goddess down the inclined pathway. "We will launch ourselves there using a flight pad, so prepare yourself." Epithet aside, the goddess looked far from useless. She resembled a homely tanned girl wearing a green sun-dress fastened with the yellow sashes. Her sunflower-yellow hair stretched straight with an erratic bang, fanning to her right over a pair of round earth-color eyes. Despite her ordinariness, she held herself with remarkable gentle posture even when getting carried off like a sack of potatoes. Unlike what her down-to-earth beauty may suggest, she was determined. The thought about giving up struggling never crossed her mind, even when being embarrassingly pulled down the stair. Around them, joyous cheers from the forest animals and people resounded. Several rabbits and rats waved many colorful flags in celebration.  In the background, the elderlies adoringly cheered, wishing happiness for the distressed girl. A group of children puts up the sign read 'Be Well Cytortia' while another group hoisted a banner wrote: 'Have a Good Journey! We are waiting to hear from you!' The encouragements were loaded with optimism, even though their goddess was being carried away against her will. "Cytortia, please take care of yourself!" "Please write back!" "We are waiting to hear from you!" "Crush LinLey and Tie Hua like a piece of chocolate, lady Cy," shouted a girl, waving her green flags. Despite all the support, the girl receiving them was anything but grateful. “Help me!” The girl screamed ungracefully. “Aunty Artio! The badger will kill me! Please reconsider this?! Why are you guys sending me to a chopping block? Stop cheering like some stupid mortals! Anybody help!” On the podium above, a massive bear conversed with a man in a Chinese robe. The picturesque scenery of the mountainous forest stood as a background for the sandstone balcony. The bear and the man oversaw the majestic garden packed to the brim with the forest denizen. Mellow sunlight filtered past the canopy, lighting up the carving of flowers stretching across the behemoth of an abode. The bear nostalgically witnessed the path linking her to the goddess slowly lengthened. "Do you think it is a good idea?" The man in a royal-blue Chinese robe asked. "She is already on the losing end of the war between Heavenly Daughters. Steel and Earth are gearing up for their conflict with Fire. The forces they gathers are enough to warrant Odin's attention. Ra has even shown an interest in LinLey. Meanwhile, Cytortia has nothing on her." The bear looked wistfully at the beautiful and forever bright sky, then at her beloved niece getting hauled onto the stone podium overlooking the glorious mountains. "What about the Ultimate One?" The assistant paled. The bear gave him a chastised look. Down on the distant stadium, the badger threw the goddess onto a mountain bike parked over the vast, misty, mountainous forest. Several assistants came out of the crowd to help the badger tied the trantrumming goddess to the vehicle. "Traitors!" The goddess looked accusingly at several assistants in green uniforms. "What had I done to you? Are you helping this stupid badger skewer me with a spear too?!" "No lady Cytortia," The female assistant in lush green cloth tightened the knot as she gave the goddess an apologetic smile. "It is the least we could have done to repay you." "What have I done to deserve this!?" The badger frowned with concern. "Are you sure about this?" The honey badger asked the women in a plaided green uniform. "Yes," the young woman bowed toward the girl. It was a gesture of gratitude. "A year ago, you saved my son's life. I will never forget what you did for us! Thank you for all these years! W-We, all of us here, will pray for your victory!" The woman could not hold her tears any longer. "Why are you crying?" Cytortia replied, bitterly blinking back her feeling. "Why are you all so eager to get rid of me? What have I done to any of you?" "You helped us," the female assistant wiped her moist eyes with her sleeve and stepped off the podium. "You treated us the best you could during this past two years, but after your master's decrees, you can't afford to do that anymore." Tears of gratitude trickled down the assistant's cheek despite her best attempt to stop it. She hurriedly wiped it away and gave the helpless girl the biggest smile possible. The dawn broke through the misty mountain, bathing the forest and the cheering crowd in the blessing of light.  The green light charged up the podium, blasting the shining emerald tower into the sky. Sensing the uncertian future, the badger swallowed her doubt and hopped on the mountain bike to perform her duty. "Wait! You don't have to do this! I-I don't need any of your encouragement. You don't know what they will do if they found out! Wait!" The green lights slowly engulfed the two and launched them toward the horizon. On that stone manor, the bear looked down at the assistant from the altar she lazily watched on. "You lot are trying to pretend the Olympus End Incident never happened," the bear said roughly. "Do you think she cares about four little girls fighting pointlessly for marginal rule over Phantasia? No! We both know her aim and who among the Heavenly Daughter is her favorite." The assistant looked at the golden dawn with an ill omen. "That shouldn't be possible," the old man replied in denial. "Why would someone so mighty bet on Cytortia? Against Chuang and Tie Hua, she is ordinary in every sense." The bear smiled with pride. The man couldn't help but feel insulted. The carnage he witnessed when the Olympian fell stump any retort he had. No matter what he did, the image of a beaten and broken king of the gods dangling from the hand of that Armageddon incarnated would scar his mind for the rest of eternity. "Look at the people below," the bear said. "Do they look like a toy of an uncaring god or a grateful community united to bid farewell to their benefactor and friend?" The man gave no replies as the emerald comet rocketed away. He tried to wrap this foreign concept of power around his head. A miraculous scene where people treated a goddess not as superior, but a guide and a friend made little sense in his mind. The cheer didn’t stem from reverence or terror, but the closeness and genuine love. "They know her," the bear explained. "They know their goddess is flawed, but they also see her caring side. They understand and accept who she is, and she cherishes that bond. In this savage world, that phenomenon is quite a rare treasure, don't you think?" The old man looked toward the bright horizon as the goddess flew toward her new beginning. He couldn't help but dread the war between the daughter of Heavens. Cytortia didn't have a hope to win, but the existence of the Ultimate One changed everything. The mere hour of that carnages remained the gravest crisis the gods ever experience. Olympus End Crisis would have surpassed the severity of Ragnarok or the full unleashing of Apophis if the Ultimate One didn't settle for negotiation. If the Ultimate One had a plan for Cytortia, all the gods would burn in a fire. He was right for the wrong reason. ... And that was how the goddess crash-landed. “I see,” the honey badger said, plucking up the square dices and throwing them onto the board. “Kid these days got it rough too, huh?” "Yeah," Rem answered, looking at his deed. "I lost," the goddess sobbed. "You two are demons... monsters. You heartless beast." The trio sat around a small but cozy little table amid the sizzling desert. The sun was beating hard, but the beach umbrella and cold drinks made the heat irreverent. On the table was a game of monopoly. This ridiculous turn of the event began after a few minutes of conversations spiraled unpredictably. It began when the honey badger declared her boredom. The boy, out of total sarcasm, suggested they play a game. The goddess's protest went unheard as the honey badger combed her satchel and discovered two games. A) Go Fish B) Phantasia Monopoly The decision was cast by voting. The boy threw his lot with the money game, while the goddess picked Go Fish. Finally, the tie-breaking badger siding with Rem to maximize the goddess suffering. Rem stayed silent throughout the game. The badger was a dangerous opponent. She packed her moves with an intense desire for blood, and her luck was too good. The only reason he lasted this long was that the badger spent most of the war destroying Cytortia's asset over his. Rem smiled perniciously; time to spring the reverse-card. "Hey, badger," Rem called. "Don't you find it strange that you never land on a rent that costs you more than $200?" The badger's jaw dropped, and her eyes bulged like an over-inflated balloon. Both her ears stood up on end and quivered like jelly. Despite being a wild animal, her breath smelled like tulips and eucalyptus.  “Are you claiming that I cheat?” The badger replied. “Kid, maybe I am only having a lucky day.” “Not with those throws,” the boy said. “And your method acting is terrible.” The badger smiled. “You can’t prove that.” “I can’t,” Rem admitted without blinking, then stoically pointed at the goddess. “Then let her make your throw if you are so innocent.” “Heh, you know she will try to make me lose, right?” The badger replied. “Already way ahead of you,” Rem crossed his arms with confidence. “Why don’t we put a blindfold on her?” The badger looked at him with fascination before she burst out laughing. “Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” The badger wiped her tears. “Go ahead, kid. With the amount of money you lost so far, there is no way you could change the situation by only replacing the roller.” Rem didn’t reply. He just gave the badger the spiked candy for Halloween. Now, he only had to wait for the cute little animal to take the L. ... Ten turns later. “$380,” Rem said. “Pay up.” “Eh,” the goddess cried. She looked around pointlessly, but the black cloth tied across her eyes guaranteed she wouldn't see a thing. “Scathach got screwed again? But isn’t this the fifth time this last ten minutes?” “Ahhh,” Rem stroked his chin in consideration. “So you are a warrior’s maid of Ulster and teacher of Cu Cuchulain;  Scathach of the Isle of Shadow. I should be surprised, but given that Athena is real, I guess other myths are also valid.” Rem smiled at Scathach. His lifeless eyes were as empty of mercy as nothingness itself. Scathach, the honey badger, shivered. When did a game of monopoly turn this creepy? “Now, what’s your plan?” Rem gave her the devil's whisper. “You are losing so badly. Ninety percent of your deeds already ate the mortgage. But maybe you might have a fighting chance, assuming you reach [Go]. But that would take a roll of twelve. Can you do it?” Scathach looked at her monies, wondering how was this happening. Last she checked, there were enough bills to build a mountain. Rem ate lost after lost, yet he mysteriously dangled on the game despite losing as terribly as Cytortia. Scathach reached for a $100 orange bill but only found a ten. The yellow bill was now orange. She curiously ran her fingers over the paper and felt the grain of the coarse, brown desert's sand darkening the note orange. A flash of lightning struck as the revelation shone the truth into her face in the most painful way imaginable. “You cheated!” Scathach screeched. “All this time, you have been forking the $10 bills you disguised as $100! You fucking cheater!” “Oh, I won't deny or accept that.” Rem said without a hint of remorse. “You never take the game seriously. Maybe you underestimate a pitiful human from Earth way too much. Don’t you know that human is one of the most bloodthirsty and crafty animals ever exist?” “Give me what you owe!” The badger demanded. “I can’t,” Rem stated politely. “The rule of monopoly emphasizes on the fact that you manage your own money. You can’t complain over spilled milk, Ms. Scathach. And where is my $380?” Scathach gritted her teeth as she shoved her bills to Rem, who continue rolling with no repercussions. She could get out alive. She only needed to score 12, 8, 7, 5, and 2. The badger did a quick calculation. Those odds were exactly- “17 out of 36, around 50/50,” Rem said coldly with an emotionlessly coy smile. “Not a bad odd for gambling, isn’t it?” Scathach gritted her teeth. “Cytortia! Toss it!” The two cubes flew into the air and suspended by hope and expectation before rattling down on the board. They clattered. One die ultimately rested on the face with six dots. The second dice bounced a few more times before it rested at... five. “Wow,” Rem said. “That's a grand total of eleven. You landed on Mt. Olympus and had to pay me $900. Game over, Scathach. Even I am surprised. That dice is the worse roll out of 6 possibilities.” Silence “Scathach?” The goddess took off her blindfold. “Are you-” “Cheated then beaten by a brat,” ominous red aura steamed as the honey badger's fur stood up. She rose like a zombie out for brains. Her razor blade teeth opened up for a bite. “Kid, you won’t get away that easily!” Scathach of the Ulster cycle declared to the sky. “You are now one of my students! I will have to thrash you to erase this humiliation.” Scathach lept on top of Rem and began wrangling him furiously. “You will either become a legend deserving of outsmarting me or die! I will beat that legendries quality into you physically if I have to!” At that moment, realization dawned on Rem.  He fucked up.

Luxinna watched Rem gradually woke up. “How long have I been out?” Rem rubbed his eyes and stretched with exhaustion. “Four hours,” Cytortia closed her copy of Alchemist Today and glanced at him with concern. “Seriously Rem, your sleeping issue is getting worse.” “I will manage,” Rem massaged his neck, before catching sight of the magazine his friend was holding. “So Alchemists have a magazine?” “Heh,” Cytortia distastefully tossed the magazine to the side. Luxinna whistled. “It’s that bad?” “What do you expect?” Cytortia replied with disdain. “This crap publisher is licking the boot of the Isle of Knowledge and Enma Enterprise for a hundred pages straight — bunch of sellout.” “The Isle of Knowledge?” Luxinna asked. “Of course, you two don’t know them,” Cytortia rolled her eyes. Cytortia then entered a thirty-minutes crash course on the Isle of Knowledge. To sum it short, Isle of Knowledge was supposedly at the forefront of all research on Phantasia. With almost unlimited wealth and armies of researcher under their wings, Isle of Knowledge, or IK, successfully got a near monopoly of technological advance in Phantasia. A feat Rem couldn’t help but dread. Having one organization, and a ruthless one for that, holding this kind of death grip on technological progress only spelled disaster. However, what the goddess’ opinion on Enma Enterprise was more intriguing. Luxinna knew nothing about them. Rem only recognized how many chunks of Earth they carved over and not much else. But Cytortia fixed that. “Emma Clan found Enma Enterprises several generations ago,” Cytortia said. “They are the clan of beast-men whose ancestor interbreed with gods. This heritage gives the clan’s offspring massive magical and physical abilities. Abilities they used to carve out a trade and military empire that spans continents.” “What do they want?” Luxinna said. “I don’t know,” Cy answered, glancing longingly out into the windows. “My friend... She never tell me. I don’t think she even tries to understand.” Rem nodded. The boy was neither nobility, nor elf, nor god or beast-men with a divine bloodline. He was a simple boy with too much time to question the surrounding insanity. That was why he noticed the reason. Or the closest Enma had to one. The reason was peace of mind. A state free from all worries; namely happiness. Every living being chase after happiness but the meaning of that so-call happiness rarely got questioned. Most believed status and wealth filled that hole, but that mindset was suicidal. The only things such system led was a cannibalistic march of greed for wealth and power to satiate an infinite void. Not to mention the wrath and savagery that born to protect that veneer of peace. It was akin to a drug — a high forever chased with blood from themselves and others. But the most tragic fact about the story was the peace of mind they chased wasn’t even real. “Your friend, is she a member of Enma Clan?” Rem asked. Cytortia nodded. “Is she happy?” Rem said. “Is she ever at peace or satisfy?” Silence. “No,” Cytortia said sadly. “I don’t think those two words can describe Shyme.” The gloomy mood of the room reminded the elf girl of the insurmountable task she must face. She desired to be the greatest knight the world had ever seen. However, in that jade-color court, the ten-year-old girl was branded a monster. People like Rem cared not for labels but not Luxinna. She set her collision course in stone the moment she picked Satholia — nothing she can alter that. The battle between a family wanting an empire in their image and the daughter wanting to protect the powerless was inevitable. If the elves were chain by fate, fate seemed to decide she must be the beast who destroyed everything she wanted to protect. “Hey Rem,” Luxinna said. “Why do we destroy to protect?” “Why do you ask me that out of the blue?” Luxinna refused to meet Rem’s eyes. “I don’t want to fight them,” the elf replied. “I see my father is a dick and my sister is an idiot. But I never want to hurt them. I never want to be a monster.” Rem looked at her. Then his body shook as he tried to stifle his laughter. Cytortia’s annoyance swelled as she witnessed this unexpected, tasteless behavior. “Rem!” She yelled. Meanwhile, Za Wa the golden Octopus emerged from her handbag and leaped at Luxinna for comfort. “Sorry!” Rem guffawed, trying to control his laughter. “That is impossible. They will call us monster no matter what.” Luxinna shrunk with depression as Rem gradually calmed down. “Lux, this is something you will eventually realize yourself, but before you look at your enemies, look at the people you saved.” And then it happened. ... The takeover began with smokescreen. Sleeping gas filled all twenty Hyper-channel’s carriages. Half the guards went down within the first minute. Another half prepared themselves and their weapons, only to fall to the surprise attack from the assailant disguised as the passenger. Simultaneously, any passengers that remain conscious despite the initial assault were taken prisoner and herded into the middle of the carriage. The assailants took half of the train in less than a mere minute,. Nobody noticed three particular passengers and the golden octopus that had escaped up their carriage’s roof. ... In one carriage, the guard Captain’s back was against the wall, facing his last stand. In front of him stood a bald man mountain with a sword as big as he was. The guard gulped. He had seen that muscle snapping a steel sword to pieces with his own eyes. However, what scared him were the battle scars. Many from blades, some caused by acid, and some burns. How did anyone receive these much injuries in his lifetime and remain standing? The guard recognized this man as the terrorist’s leaders. He didn’t even need to wear the gear. The presence he brought already negated the need for distinction. Sadly, the guard was only half-correct. The tan mass of muscle moved toward him in a split second — an attempt to finish a battle that had delayed too far. The guard grunted, returning fire with a wind-blast that got easily deflected in a single boom. Before he could do anything, the massive man lifted him by the neck and slammed him into the ceiling with enough force to crack steel. The young man dropped from the roof, barely conscious. The giant grunted with impatient satisfaction and threw the man out through the carriage window. The glass broke thunderously as the Captain’s battered torso sailed out of the window. He glanced at the pristine ocean speeding below him and grasped a locket he held since the attack begun with his willpower. The welcoming arm of ocean below was not his final memory. A hand snatched guard’s leg from the embrace of death. Behind that arm, a sandy-hair man pulled an unconscious man back to safety with all the strength he mustered. On his shoulder, a tiny magpie joyfully chirped, cheering for the save made in the nick of time. The sandy-hair man nested the guard on the seat and opened the locker in his grasp. It contained the image of a family — a man he saved standing with a beast-men wife and a daughter holding a teddy bear. Marley was not happy. “One second,” Marley jabbed his finger at the two meters tall giant. “A second too late and this man will become fish-food. I will give you two seconds to give me an excuse, Bruno.” “He is an enemy!” The giant yelled back. “He got paid by the enemy!” Marley reproached. “You are not killing a soldier on the battlefield. You are killing a father with a wife and a daughter to support for doing his job. Fighting them is inevitable, but at least put yourself in their shoes.” “But he is an enemy,” Bruno repeated, actively avoiding Marley’s eyes. Marley rolled his eyes. That was the problem. Too much energy in obnoxious direction. Oh, they agreed the nobility had to go, but the how and why remained a big issue. “We will talk over this later,” Marley said, calming himself down. “First, we must secure the train. Remember what we came here for.” “I don’t understand this,” the Bruno replied. “What is Chalivier thinking? We already have a transporter. You!” “Contrary to what you expect, I can’t be everywhere at once,” Marley replied. “Yeah, but why do we have to get the core,” Bruno scratched his non-existent hair. “I mean we already have several teleporters in our group. You trained them yourself!” “It’s politic Bruno,” Marley face-palmed. “You know how the alliance worked.” “Oh right,” Bruno’s face scrunched with sympathy. “Sorry I ask?” ... Commonly known fact stated most organizations were lumbering beasts perpetually half a step away from collapsing. Such was a reason nine in ten company imploded after the first year, while another ninety percent of the survivor kicked the bucket by the second. The organization known as the Liberator was one such case. A machine of many pieces from all over Phantasia fitted together in ways that shouldn’t possibly work, but did so miraculously. It was a zombie alliance of personal and paramilitary forces held together by a single glue. To destroy the noble of Aurorin and restored freedom to the world! Despite not even knowing what that freedom would look like, despite teeming with enough agenda to satisfied the world’s salt demand, despite having enough internal animosity to turned the Liberator HQ into the syrup of negativity, the organization continued to limp on toward that romance called liberation. Until they hit a snag; the snag called logistic. Technically, several S-rank allied with the Liberator. You could even say that the skill level in the Liberator camp tripled those in the noble’s faction. However, strength breed ego and those egos breed friction. This result in internal conflict within the Liberator about who got to control what. A dispute that substantially crippled the organization for decades. That was until the recent activity of Tai Hua Tianshang and her charisma. As the previously fragmented charters of Liberator coalesced, questions such as ‘How do we transport our troop around the area the size of several planets?’ and ‘Can we fight a prolonged war against an upper class that had been hoarding wealth for millennia?’ suddenly got asked openly. That was how the Chevalier charter of Liberator got its new mission. Secure a transport method for the organization. ... “And that is likely what is happening,” the badger explained as winds blew over the group. “Marley aims to take this train to help the Liberator’s cause.” “It is not the train,” Rem slipped on his mask. “Taking this train is unfeasible — a total waste of time and effort. If it’s me, I will take what makes this train work. Then again, estimating from what your story, the Liberator rarely run on logic.” “For simplicity's sake, let assume he is after the thingy warping the space around the train,” Luxinna buttoned up her cloak. “What is it again, Cy?” “The time stabilization core,” Cytortia explained, a golden octopus sat on her head. “They already know how the train’s mechanism work. Its inventor, Arden Christy, published the papers years ago. But Enma Enterprise and Isle of Knowledge have a death grip on the stabilization core secret. Liberator only chance of getting it is stealing the core and studying its schematic.” The young goddess bit her laps. “Marley the Magpie — this will be painful” Luxinna frowned. Did she hear the name correctly? Who the hell called themselves the Magpie. “Who is he?” Rem said. “And what should I be expecting?” “He is the best Space specialist in the world,” Scathach explained. Rem groaned. The opening alone was bad enough. Alas, as expected, it got worse. “Marley’s aptitude in teleportation spells and Space-Alteration spells is second to none,” Scathach’s words amped up the difficulty-level to insanity. “He is a master of scouting and wet work. These skills allowed him to stop an invasion by Demonic Continent single handedly.” Not satisfied with the difficulty setting, the goddess pushed the mode further into the divine. “That campaign got so bad the Demonic Continent had ordered the army to fall back on the very sight of Marley,” Cytortia said. “Not that its matter. Marley is infamous for remaining undetected when he is sabotaging you to death. It said that by the time you notice him, you already lost the battle.” Luxinna looked like she was about to roll over and emptied her lunch from stress. Rem could sympathize. First the Paracis, and now Marley. What type of shit luck was this? Why was the world so obsess with making them suffer? Rem gritted his teeth. Every battle was by itself a puzzle that needed solving. Here, said puzzle was frankly sadistic. They had to rescue hostages from both ends of the train, secured the objective and outwitted an opponent who could mobilize instantly. Take into account they didn’t know the opponent’s resource and training, and what they got was a tightrope of disaster. Not counting being outnumbered twenty-four to four. Being detected in this condition meant instant defeat; the stake of failing meant that their journey would get delay infinitely. But despite the hellish difficulty, Rem had a plan. The Horizon Dawn stood, dressed in black. Their robes and capes fluttered behind them. It was a bizarre scene for anyone in Phantasia. The elf with a gold highlight slung the sword behind her back, wishing for any cover to lay an ambush. The golden octopus wearing a shade flexed on top of the goddess who was shaking in her legs. Meanwhile, the badger glared accusingly at heaven. Finally, the boy with near chronic insomnia put on a fedora and listed the mission statement. “Marley is the biggest problem,” Rem said. “We have to delay him while cutting out his manpower at lightning speed. Here, a simultaneous attack is the best option to divert his concentration.” “Er, Rem, I have an idea,” a certain cheeky elf raised her hand.

Once again, Rem found himself sitting on the edge multicolor platform. The night skies twinkled above, filled with more stars than humanities' hope and dream. He nodded, satisfied. After much pain and blood, they were victorious.  However, the embodiment of all good was still frowning disapprovingly at Rem. Satholia held a stern look that would be fitting as a national flag for the Federation of Angry Moms. Upon seeing that, Rem was terrified. Deep down, he was begging for another Paracis, facing a brain-jacking plant was more comfortable than whatever this is. Lamentably, no Paracis came to save him from the scolding. "Tell me what you did wrong, young man," Sathalia clicked her tongue with disapproval. Her brilliant eyes stabbed deep into his chest like a harpoon. Rem contemplated for a second. He had no plan, so the truth it was. "I sold my soul," Rem confessed. "Yes," Satholia nodded sternly. "Sold. Your. Soul. I know you did it for a good reason, but I never order you to risk your life AND afterlife."  Satholia closed her eyes and let out a tired sigh. "To be honest, I am glad you did. We wouldn't win otherwise, but your life is precious too, Rem. Please take proper care of it." Rem breathed in deeply, and he asked. "Do you know how to stop the Center Force from taking over?" Rem looked at his hand and imagined it fading to nothingness. How would the corruption end? Would he become an immortal zombie, traveling mindlessly like a suicide bomber? Or would he function as a white-blood-cell? An immune system programmed to destroy a threat and self-destructed in the aftermath. Rem grimaced. It was a perfect end for an idiot who cut a deal with the unfeeling angel. But the fool had no regret, given the same choice he would do it again. "I accept what happened," Rem looked toward Satholia. The smile wiped from his face. "Like you said. I will treasure my life, but I can't guarantee I won't resort to [Arrival of Dream] again if worse come to worse."  Satholia looked down at the platform, contemplating the problem. "I might work something out," Satholia said after a moment. "Even now, I barely reorganize 15% of the Center Force. There might be some hope." "I think a 'but' is coming." Rem asserted. "But by the time I find something, you will be long gone." Satholia shook her head. "I believe I might find something in ten years, but you have at most five years without additional usage of [Arrival of Dream]." "No way," Rem resigned to the reality. "Given what I am up against, the best I can do is limit its uses." "Don't worry about me," Rem said, mentally shoving down his stress. "I made the purchase, and I know the price. It's not your fault." Satholia threw a motherly look at Rem as the young man's body started to glow white. "Is it painful?" Satholia said. "I know what your life is like, but I am never in that position myself, so I can never relate. But do you want to talk about it?" Rem's glowing body went still as a corpse. His hands stilled as the loneliness resurfaced. "It was lonely at first, but after a while, I am just disappointed." Rem nodded in acceptance. "Let put the past aside and focus on the future. Whom do we recruit next?" Satholia responded sadly at the young man glowing with light. He looked tired--too tired for sixteen-year-old. The mirthless attitude could either mean calmness or indifference. She was willing to bet the later was seeping in. It wouldn't be right to burden him, but this was his redemption--an apology to the ideal he worshipped. A final debt he could repay to the world. "Go to Millian," Satholia requested, cursing her clairvoyance and herself for this entire catastrophe. "Find the Hidden Princess and the Duchess of the Craft. Scathach will know who I am referring too." Rem glanced up at his patron in horror. "Another girl?" He said, "Are you setting me up for a harem? Is my lifespan doesn't have enough time limit? The--" Before Rem could finish his sentence, he got transported away from the platform. Satholia muttered apologetically to the thin air. "Sorry, Rem, but I need you to cope with the 3:1 ratio for a few months." ... Rem woke up in the bed in a very familiar room; it was his room abroad the Black Mercy.  The room was a little shoebox with shelves abundant with empty air, a moderately comfortable bed, and a cupboard packed with a series of black yukata. Thankfully, Rem was used to Japan. His family went there once a year until his mother got a divorce. The young man dragged himself off the bed and put on one of the yukata. He tied the sash up into an untidy knot, before putting on a black badger's shaped slipper (Scathach had one strange taste). Rem walked out of the room to find the weirdest scene in his life. An elf and a goddess in maid costumes were hosting the badger. Scathach was sitting on the sofa, drinking tea as two girls in maid uniforms attended her. Rem arrived just in time to find Luxinna pouring coffee and bowing politely. Meanwhile, Cytortia finished preparing a fish-fillet, served with succulent red-wine-sauce, on a plate neatly adorned with neatly oriented marsh potato and charcoal-grilled vegetables. The two maids finally notice him, and they were horrified. Luxinna's chaotic hair was unnaturally smooth. Rem needed to admit the new look mixed too well with her lily-pattern apron and Navy Blue uniform. Cytortia's costume, on the other hand, was themed around sunflower and yellow-green fabrics. Although Luxinna beat her in the weaponry, Cytortia made up for her assets with glasses, high-heels, and extravagant earrings. "We can explain this?!" Luxinna tried to hide behind the silvers platter she was holding. "Yes! We--" Cytortia began, and then the realization hit home. "Wait! When did you wake up? You have been sleeping for an entire day. Are you okay?" Rem ignored all of that. "I am perfectly fine; just finished the maid training," Rem winked. "Scathach! You had an excellent business choice! Keep it up!" The young man walked back into his room, leaving the girls horrified. Unbeknownst to them, he was screaming internally about all the harem-inflicted damage he was about to suffer. ... The gang met up again on the table. It was a small table which was now overly crowded. Rem remained silent. Scathach was meditating and smirking. Luxinna, still in her maid uniform, fiddled uncomfortably. Cytortia looked at the assembled cast and finally decided to speak up. But someone, still wearing her maid dress, beat her to it. "I thank everyone for saving me," Luxinna bowed her head down. Rem glance at the windows. He forced himself to remain as natural as possible. The elf didn't need to know about the strand of white invading into his hair. "It's the right thing; think nothing of it," Rem's dead eyes flashed rainbow for an instant. After that short exchange, the goddess finally mustered her courage. "Okay, now that we got Luxinna and left the elves behind-" Luxinna sulked subtlely. "Are you okay with that?" Scathach said in a rare gesture of concern. The elf sighed. "I don't know," Luxinna said, looking back at the forest that was already out of her sight. "I try not to think about it. There is nothing left for me in the forest or Lightwell, but it was my home for a long time. I am going to miss it." "And you come anyway," Rem concluded. Luxinna glared at him. "Because you owe me a punch in the face. Plus, I need to make sure that a bastard like you ever step near my sister or anyone else," with that, she triumphantly smiled at the emotionless young's man. "Protecting others is the duty of a knight. Do you think I would let a walking time-bomb like you go easily?" Luxinna announced. Her voice was still shaky, but the prior bitterness had vanished. She was no longer slouching but instead held her head proud and high. Finally, after three years inside the labyrinth of broken wishes, Luxinna was free. Rem witnessed that smiled sparkled like lightning bolt, and he let out a tiny smirk of his own. All his sacrifice was worth it. Finally, the Exile Lighting had a home. Sadly, the recruitment drive wasn't over. "Yes, about that," Rem said. "We had a problem." He told them about Millian and their newest mission. When he finished, the reaction was worrying. Cytortia shoved her head in a pillow and screamed. Their organization's chef and unofficial leader must know something. Meanwhile, Luxinna looked lost. It wasn't surprising given that she never left Lightwell all her life. Much to everyone's surprise, Scathach lost her mind. "The Duchess of the Craft?" Scathach barely believed her own words. "Are you sure Satholia said that?" "Positive," Rem answered. "I believe she is dead," Scathach blanked out. "She is alive? After all this time..." "Who is she?" Luxinna asked. "Ebony Solarmaria," Cytortia answered with a traumatic sob. "She is Kar'Dia's idol and one of the greatest blacksmith in known history. That love-struck stuck-up wouldn't shut up about her. Oh god, this is horrific." The goddess shoved her head further into the pillow. "She isn't that bad," Scathach moaned. "Are you sure it is Millian? That place was on the opposite end of the continent. It will take us a while to get there." "I am sure," Rem nodded, looking at everyone. "But right now, we need a re-structure. The only two reasons all of us are sitting happily right now are pure luck and divine intervention. We can't afford to do this every time." Cytortia glanced at the sun-roof dejectedly. Meanwhile, Luxina's expression faltered. The mission was a resounding success, but the brush with death was too close for comfort. Beside him, Scathach agreed. "Yes, you are lucky," The badger said. "Too Lucky. If Luxinna got taken over earlier, or if you failed to regroup with Cytortia, you would be screwed. It took a manifestation of good bailing you out to call a victory. You guys cannot depend on plot-armor to rescue you forever." "We need a re-org," Rem said. "No, we don't even have an organization in the first place." Cytortia looked like she was about to crawl into a hole. The poor maiden was handling too much pressure. "How do we build an organization," Luxinna looked around. "There are only three of us here. My father alone can end us all. How can we expect to fight him and then the world?" With that phrase, Cytortia's head perked up. A particular speech flashed into her head and brought clarity to her world. "Rem, do you remember what you said about ideal?" Cytortia proposed. "Why don't we start with that?" Rem looked confused, but Luxinna excitedly clapped her hand with approval. "Yeah!" She shouted. "That could work! That is how we won in the end, right? That is how Satholia did it. She proved the Paracis wrong and showed me there's still hope. I think we can use that as a guideline." Scathach shivered; this was not going well. Cytortia nodded. She kept playing specific images in her mind. A man knew what he was walking into, terrified by it, but still marched to face certain death without wanting any reward or glory. He looked at the world with disappointment, but because of that, he appreciated all the good it could give. Nearby her, the elf was also reminiscing. She couldn't remember the event clearly from her time as corrupted, but she recalled how fear replaced her glee. Luxinna finally deduced how that happened.  Rem very existence terrified the Paracis to its core. "Rem, what is your ideal?" Luxinna said. "You have one, right?" Rem pondered about the twelve-year-old Rem Breaker. He was someone who once saw only the worse in people, and it left him with no one. In that loneliness, he discovered the ideal that made him who he was today. It was naive and outdated but still more beautiful in any gems in the world. Is it fitting that a boy who stared into the abyss got rescued by the Superhero? "It is childish," Rem said tonelessly. "But if you want to hear it, I can tell you." Luxinna opened the drawer and produced a pack of popcorn. She ripped the bag opened and inhaled greedily. "Earth is never great," Rem narrated with nostalgia. "The economy randomly tanks from time-to-time. Several families hold enough political power to get away with anything. Ethic become secondary to chasing profit. People wages a political agenda without caring about the consequence." Rem's eyes began to tear a little as he thought about the moment of his life. "Unlike me, other people ignored the sign of the disaster and continued the idiocy. After realizing that fact, I started to hate humanity. I was only ten when I started to stop caring, but I didn't want to make my life meaningless, so I began searching for an answer. What makes life worth living? Can there be some light behind that abyss?" Cytortia and Scathach studied the boy who looked happy for the first time they had known him. "After a year, I found the answer," Rem cheerfully chuckled. "In the great economic depression, everything is even worse than what it is today. Who would have thought that a teenager who lost his father in a robbery would create the answer for nihilism? " Rem gave a sad smiled. "That man and his friend created the first Superhero: Superman. It's only a guess, but I believe that loss led him to create a being who could save his father--the man with the strength to bench press planet, nigh-impenetrable skin, and speed that will make your gods look slow. But unlike the gods, Superman never thought himself above humanity. A pair of humble farmers raised him, and it shows. Instead of being arrogant and self-center, humility and compassion define Superman. I never believe in gods. They are selfish, hypocritical, and cruel. Who would want to look up to them? But Superman..." Rem dejectedly blinked back his depression. "Imagine the worst moment of your life," Rem said. "Let say at that moment when everything is going to hell, the symbol of hope fly down from the sky, tell you everything is going to be fine, and he makes everything alright again. Think about that for a second and ask yourself: can you laugh at that hope off as something childish?" Cytortia stood stiffly, while Luxinna stopped eating her popcorn and sulked. Rem was right. They couldn't laugh at it. It was a childish fantasy, and yet, thinking about how their life would different had the Man of Steel been real was heartwrenching. They would have a home, peace, and happier childhoods. Who could laugh at that? Rem continued. "In that darkest moment, a comic book character reminded one twelve-year-old kid that the world is not going to end. How could the race that is pure evil created something so beautiful? The abyss can be defeated. We just have to fight for a meaningful future despite the futility. Humanity built enterprises and supported each-other in spite of our nature because we want that better world. Every day we got to choose whether we surrender to the evil of the world, or follow the ideal of the greatest hero humanity ever conceived and find another way. Superman is walking embodiment that nihilism and cynism are for underachieving losers; doing what is right is hard and required a massive personal sacrifice. But I would rather fight to my death than live in the world without hope. You can call me naive, but with the power I have, I want to make Superman real. Then maybe those idiots will finally learn." Silence. Finally, the soundless void broke. "You are not the only one," Luxinna looked outside dreamily. "I will gladly be called an idiot for that symbol of hope." Cytortia nodded. "Well, Tie Hua always called me naive," She amusingly said. "I agreed with her, but I would rather die naive than live as a loser." On the sofa, Scathach shivered. The gravity was too intense. "Kids, this is not charity," she said. " You should be fighting for control-" """Are you crazy?!""" Everyone looked at her incredulously. "I will say this only once," Rem said. "Scathach, my ego is already healthy. No blood-drenched land will help it." "NO FREAKING WAY!" Luxinna added. "Do you think I can rule anything properly?!" "Scathach, we just went over how we want to be a symbol of hope!" Cytortia exclaimed in horror. "What part of a tyrannical invasion is hopeful!" Against that unshakable united front, Scathach decided discretion was better than honor. "So what should we call ourselves," Luxinna suggested. "Order of Tomorrow?" "Too lame, but I like the theme," Cytortia said and grinned. "What about Horizon Dawn."

Scathach and Cytortia walked out of the auction houses and into the afternoon skies. The young goddess toiled away from the entire ordeal. Beside her, the warrior maid in her furry form lectured her student on accounting. “We get the money, right?” Cytortia stretched lazily. “Those pills sold for millions. We are already out of the red!” Scathach nearly choked on that naivete. “Didn’t Rem warn you about accounting?” Scathach said. “What happened to investment check and capital booking?” Cytortia cringed. “Let be honest here. Rem is way better at the job.” “Yeah,” Scathach said. “And you are doing great at pushing him to an early grave.” Cytortia stood still for a second. The badger’s comment was an understatement. Ever since the Paracis, Rem was a walking bag of exhaustion. He smiled and said everything was fine, but nobody bought it. She admitted Rem was an adept liar, but his poker-face fell when he was being selfless. Here she was, complaining about balance-sheet while her friend worked himself to death. “Hey,” Cytortia quietly spoke. “How do I balance the account?” Scathach paused in shock. Suddenly, she sensed a familiar presence. The badger looked around the corner in a split-second of panic. “What?” “An old friend,” Scathach whispered. “Go to the train. I will catch up with you later.” Cytortia hesitated, but the badger’s glare sent her away. Scathach waited for a few minutes for Cytortia to fade from her sight before starting a conversation with no one. “Come out, Marley,” Scathach said in annoyance. “Your bloody magpie already gave you away.” Behind a column to her left, a sandy-hair man in a tattered tunic and worn-out cloaked stepped out of the shadow. On his shoulder, a tiny magpie blew a small flute in greeting. “Hello, old friend,” the man named Marley began. “Care for a drink?” ... Phantasia is big enough to contain several Earths. This truth got registered, accepted, and proven. Tragically, this results in one major logistical problems: transportation. People need to move from A to B for society to function, and vast distance suddenly made societal maintenance much harder. The answers come in many shapes and sizes: magical airship, teleportation network, and flying magical creature. Anything drifting was set to soar is the rule of the game. Given Horizon Dawn’s cash-flow crisis, the substantial range separating Millian and Northland Forest, and Rem Breaker’s immense paranoia about World Enemy watching them from wherever World Enemy set-up their Hobble Telescope. The gang had narrowed down the only method to reach Millian. Go to the train-station. Hyper-channal was a train which used a series of gateways to shorten travel-time. When the train passed through the station’s gate, the spell enchanted on the train’s body generated a time-fluctuation, reducing the time for the passenger to reach travel from point A and B. Essentially, this spell enabled the train to travel at a higher velocity, not by accelerating the vehicle but by creating a bubble of space which moved faster compared to the surrounding. It was the gang nest setting. ... It was a peaceful scene. Shadow framed Rem’s face as he slumbered. It was a guise, a mirage concealing the intense battle erupting in his mind. Through minor miracles and human’s spirit, the boy again emerged victorious. But every victory came with a price, a price he couldn’t afford to pay forever. Beside him, the elf also slumbered. And she was having a conversation. ... Luxinna never forgot this place. The balconies of whitewood stood high and suffocating. From above, the jade-color light illuminated the court of the elf-lords sickly green. The girl crumbled down on all four as her trauma resurface. She breathed roughly, suppressing the urge to throw up with all her might. Unlike that fateful day, there was no elf-lord here; only a helpless girl, a trauma, and golden mist. A girl walked out of the golden mist. “A knight who will save everyone,” recited a girl. “Are you serious? You can’t even save yourself.” Luxinna spun to a familiar 10-years-old elf. “You are me,” Luxinna said, blinking in surprise. “Me from back then.” The younger Luxinna sighed. “No, I am the representation of this moment,” the younger Luxinna replied, conjured a wooden chair, sat and distastefully stared at the older version. “I am sure not crying for uncle and grandpa to save me. Even then, what a bang-up job they accomplished? Well, exile is better than death, I guess.” “Shut up,” Luxinna scolded furiously. “They tried their best!” “I know,” younger Luxinna raised her hand in a gesture of surrender. “I am grateful we still have our neck. What about the elephant in the corner: dear daddy?” “H-He has his reason.” “For executing us!?” The younger version threw her arms to the sky. “You must be kidding. I think you already stop deluding yourself when Rem — who is by-the-way a better friend than our sister — talked that fantasy out of you.” The girl continued. “What did dad often say? It is a duty of the chosen to lead those below them. Isn’t that sound plain wrong to you? Guess what? It’s our family’s motto. We call Mia Alusto an egotistical ass! Guess what hon? She’s our great-great aunt and Magnolia sure as hell think the bitch is an embodiment of virtue. Our blood is mud, accept it!” The younger Luxinna spat to the ground. “No wonder the Threshold exists,” she groaned. “Reality might be a whiny ass, but it does exceptional work keeping power from the hand of egomaniacs.” “What Threshold?” Luxinna suddenly felt terrible about that word. “What does any of this even mean? Is this a part of my Mana Core?” The girl snorted. “Yes, this is all about True Magic,” the younger Luxinna frowned to the heaven. “True Magic isn’t like those fancy spell-casting and cultivation. Those so-call practitioners only stick with the easy-stuff: learn some law, train your physique, maybe hone your mental voodoo, and hopefully become powerful to blow up the planet. Us? We don’t do kiddies’ stuff.” “Kiddies’ stuff,” Luxinna’s comprehension killed itself. “Are you telling me that my parent arranges marriage and grandma’s obsession for a cultivation technique is all for kiddies’s stuff? You can’t be serious?” “Yes, kiddies’ stuff,” the younger girl shrugged. “You can also substitute some words with useless, inadequate, and weak.” Luxinna flopped down to the floor with tears in her eyes. “What does that even mean? How does that even work?” “Mana stocking is only that, adding more power,” the younger Luxinna explained. “Same with honing muscle and spirit. You just add more numbers to a Status ID, but do numbers conclude everything when you move it out of context. It will be just a plain number. Hence, the World let those counterfeiters walked with only a wrist-slap.” “They don’t get away with it! Heavenly Tribulation exists!” The younger Luxinna face switched from annoy to solemn. “Lux, do you seriously think the nigh-impotent entity who foresee all reality in 4-Dimension and perceive past, present and all futures will only fling a few bolts of lightning at a puny crow despite knowing that in a hundred years that bird will be a threat. Instead of lightning and life-endangering phenomenon, why not directly stop it heart or separate the soul into tiny pieces and scatter it throughout cosmos? Those ‘Heavenly Tribulation’ are the universe laughing at how stupid you are for following the stick and carrot in the reality TV-show featuring your stupidity.” Luxinna tried to protest, but she couldn’t. It made sense. If the universe had the pre-cognition to perceive who could reach level 10000, why not went with the one-hit-kill when your opponent was a lv 10? “You mean the reason I was born — my grandmother’s pursues of the ultimate technique — is a huge joke by the universe?” “Yeah,” younger Luxinna answered flatly from her chair. “Hilarious. The World has one mean humor.” Luxinna felt a part of her died. “Then who I am?” Luxinna asked in her stone-cold shock. “Why am I even born?” “Finally, you get it,” the younger Luxinna cheered, deliberately missing the point. “That is the crux of True Magic. It’s not a pursuit of power, but meaning!” “Meaning?” “Ding! Ding!” the young Luxinna excitedly declared. “True Magic replicates the process that created the Satholia you know today. It is the act of using the power generated by the clashing of the Center Force and Malice to create a conceptual entity; the Supra Mayaa.” “Supra Mayaa?” “Yes, that what we called the being like Satholia,” younger Luxinna said wistfully. “Entity which embodied ideal and story. A living concept unbound by rules. The World Enemy might have the potential to destroy the multiverse, but a Mayaa operated at a higher level. Here is a comparison: you have a glass of water. Now, how to make it the purest glass of water possible?” “Clean the glass.” “How about making the glass cease to exist?” The younger Luxinna raised her eyebrows. “There is nothing purer than emptiness. That is the crux of a Mayaa. You operate out of an impossible to quantify matrixes. You are powerful as you need. The universe can’t deal with the Mayaa’s haxing, so it collapses when a Mayaa arrived.” “How does this solve my problem?” Luxinna said. “What this has to do with me?” “I am arriving there,” the younger Luxinna explained. “Right now, you are rife with conflict; an identity crisis, a traumatic memory, and cluelessness about how you should feel about your family. Those are component you have to overcome. Each challenges defeated transforms into an ability under your True Magic. Those abilities are Legends.” “Legends,” Luxinna repeated. “How does that work?” “You will learn when the time arrives,” the younger self faded away. “We will meet again when you are ready, but beware. The World learned about True Magic and Supra Mayaa when Satholia ascended. In response to such unstoppable force of nature, it placed a Threshold to block your progress if it is not happy with your direction. Reality is pulling all stop to make sure all Mayaa got its seal of approval. The higher your Natural Hierachy, the tougher the Threshold.” Luxinna looked at the fading girl strangely. “You mean those Mia Alusto’s crap dad sprouted is-” “Is backfiring on our entire race,” The girl vanished as she finished the sentence. “Apparently being the bless children of Heaven get you kicks by the World now.” The jade light swallowed the world. But despite that, Luxinna giggled happily. Despite all that happened, the truth that Lucian Drakokia got kicked hard by the heaven he praised filled her with euphoria. ... Scathach and Marley finally came face-to-face under the station’s shadow. “No,” Scathach said. “Continue dreaming, Marley. It will never happen.” “That girl is our best chance,” Marley pleaded somberly. A magpie chirped on his shoulder, oblivious to the tense mood. “If Tai Hua Tianshang is your best chance, quit.” Marley facepalmed. “You never see her fight, Scathach,” he said to the Badger. “Her potential surpasses anyone I have ever met. Given time, she will bring balance back to Phantasia.” “Then what do you do next?” Scathach said. “Submit to her as our all new overlord.” “She gives freedom to the people,” Marley sighed. “Look Scathach. You don’t understand how bad it is around here.” “I do,” Scathach said calmly Marley slammed his fist to the wall and glared at the badger in anger. Scathach didn’t budge. Her eyes were uncaring. For her, this was another day. People prayed to gods like her for salvation, but it was not her business to give any. Their plight was none of her concern. “You don’t even care, do you!?” Marley screamed. “Yes, I don’t,” Scathach said. “This is reality, Marley. Injustice happens, people die, and the culprit get away. Accept it and move on.” Marley gritted his teeth. “That was not the reason I become S-Rank,” Marley twitched dangerously in a barely suppressed rage. “Why can’t you see it? You, Olympus, Asgard, the gods, how can you be so blind.” With that, Marley began an unstoppable triad. “Yesterday, the Grand Empire just doubled their slave demand. Do you realize where they are getting them?” “The Mergia Trade Federation or Enma Enterprise,” Scathach answered. “That’s it!” Marley asked. “That’s all you have to say! Do you know how many wars they orchestrated to fill that demand? The smaller states are turning to hell! The Demonic Continent’s forces pillages and rapes their way across Solovar. Hundreds of colonies in the buffer state fell to the Vampire’s attack last week. You know full well what those parasites do to their prisoner.” “I can’t take care of one million strangers, Marley,” Scathach said. “What I care about is the fact that you have the nerve to ask me to join the Liberator.” “You rather side of the bastard who forces the war refugee to sell themselves to slavery over the person who tries to free them.” “I am not taking any side, Marley,” Scathach sighed. “My stance in this is neutral. Without those major powers, the world’s balance will crumble.” “Hell with the balance!” Marley screamed. “Balance didn’t save my father or brought those evil sacks of shit gorging on their golden throne to face justice. Do you understand why so many rallies under Tai Hua?!” The magpie chirped in panic as Marley’s fist slammed into the wall for the second time. “This is the reason.” he ranted resentfully. “As myriad different factions burned Phantasia on the back of the powerless, you, the gods, do nothing to stop any of that.” Marley’s breathing turned rough. “Do something Scathach?” he pleaded. “Tai Hua will pull Aurorin to the ground. If you don’t pick side now, the gods will fall next. You are my friend, Scathach. Please don’t do this.” Scathach closed her eyes and answered. “I can’t. What’s happening is not my business.” Scathach left without looking back. Marley’s eyes flashed dangerously, but the fire of rage soon faded to reveal only sadness. “Where are you going?” “A vacation,” the badger lied. “Are you using the Hyper-Channel?” “No,” she lied again. “I could shorten the trip.” “I don’t want your help, Marley,” Scathach said. “Now go.” Marley left dejectedly.

Scathach tried to stop it, but not even the gods could stump momentum Rem created. Instead of halting the train, Scathach found herself hoisted along the ride of doom with no brakes. … Phase One of Rem’s plan was researching. “How the hell do you get all this book?” Scathach cried as she witnessed the metaphorical train wreck in progress. The camp got a do-over. The chair was gone, and so was the campfire. Horizon Dawn was on the warpath. Foldable table positioned strategically inside the base with books stacked high. Blackboards and message boards stood tall, with the mission’s objectives written in bold. For three hours, Scathach was on a deathwatch as she watched the Mission Impossible in-progress. “A gift from a Jedi Master,” Rem said, gesturing at the girl working on overtime amidst the pile of books. “The Horisearch will handle it.” “Horisearch?” Scathach said. “Cytortia’s division,” Rem said. “She is digging any usable data. We need to know what we are dealing with before further planning.” “You can’t be serious?” Scathach said. “You know who you are fighting, right?” “Illma,” Cytortia answered. It appeared Rem wasn’t the only one fed up with Scathach’s attitude. “If we win, Chuang will come after us eventually. Not that I mind, we are already enemy.” “You will never beat her!” Scathach spoke, flabbergasted. Where was that cowardly goddess when she needed her. “It’s too soon for you two to clash.” “Don’t know, don’t care,” Cytortia replied, tossing one more book onto the discarded pile and grabbing another one. “I am tired of running away to cry in the corner Scathach. I am putting my foot down this time. You can either help or go back to my aunt and say you quit.” Scathach knew this was a disaster. Two options stood before her: the rule of the gods or her promise. It was a hard one. Despite her mercenary approach to life, she never broke a vow. In the end, she picked the third option: find an ally to put a stop to this madness. Maybe Luxinna would work. “Lux, Can you please tell these two to quit?” “No. Freaking. Way.” Luxinna was helping Ebony unpacking. “Fighting against a force of evil to save an innocent town from a bloody dragon? I am practically living my childhood dream. Where do I put this box?” “Left counter, loser,” Melody answered, and wrote something about nerve gases on the blackboard. “Shut up, bandage-face,” Luxinna stuck her tongue in defiance, but nonetheless followed her instruction. Scathach looked for more option. “Ebony...” “Shut up, traitor,” Ebony snapped. “I am concentrating. If you don’t want to help, dig yourself a grave, and set yourself on fire.” “Melody, talk some sense to your mother. You hate Rem, right?” “Miss Scathach, please drown yourself. I might hate that idiot, but I won’t let my home burn for it.” The warrior maid’s mouth twitched. That was it. Screw everything; she had to stop this disaster with violence. Scathach conjured up her spear and readied to take them all out in seconds. Sadly, Rem happened. “Are you sure, Scathach?” Rem, the manifestation of carnage, appeared behind her. “Let plays a game of what if before we get violent, shall we?” Scathach’s stomach sank. Rem loved winning before playing. “If you beat all of us,” Rem said. “Then the dragon will land on Chuang’s hand. That will be bad if we have to fight her later, right?” Scathach nodded. Oh shit, she was so screwed. “Am I right to say this is the best chance we will have to stop Illma Road for good and removed the X-cution from Chuang’s arsenal?” Scathach nodded. “Now imagine how piss Satholia will be if we don’t take this opportunity,” Rem whispered sinisterly. “Not only we fail to cripple one of our contenders, but we also hand her a weapon to use. What if the X-cution and the dragon prolong the Heavenly Daughter’s conflict and weaken Phantasia enough that the World Enemy got us?” Scathach turned pale. “For your safety, I hope we succeed,” Rem delivered more dosage of the red-pill. “If not, it’s lost and lost. Assuming Phantasia survives — which I doubt it — the boss will gun you down for ruining this mission the moment she has her chance. Phantasia dies; the boss will strangle you to death for running away while we valiantly fight to the last. We must succeed or else you are screwed.” “Tai Hua can beat that dragon,” Scathach said. “She might,” Rem admitted. “But are you willing to entrust your livelihood in the hand of a tyrant on warpaths, or your hand and skill? You can make that choice right now.” Scathach dropped her spear. “What do I need to do?” The badger cried. “Excellent,” Rem grinned sinisterly. “To win a war, we need to know ourselves and our enemy. We need to understand how Illma plans to deal with a dragon. You should take Luxinna and do reconnaissance on Illma. Try not to get detected we need all the advantages we can get.” “That’s it?” Scathach asked. “Nope, there’s another thing,” Rem handed her a stack of paper. “Please look at this.” “What is it?” Scathach took the papers. “The experiment results on Luxinna’s True Magic,” Rem said. “I suggest some modification, but given you are more knowledgeable in the combat department, I want you to talk to her about this.” Scathach looked at the note; this would be interesting. … Crack! “Ouch!” Luxinna grunted. The glass gauntlet on her arm blew up, leaving her arms scorching with bruise and welt. The elf painfully gasped. Cramping numbness ran up her arms and haunted her sense. A notebook dropped from her lap. “What? Are you about to give up?” Scathach said, without looking away from her binocular. “Dream on,” Luxinna replied angrily. “I will nail this technique.” Both women were on the roof of a random warehouse. They were trespassing, but as long as the sound canceling rune was still in effect, no one would mind. Luxinna picked up the notes and reread the part about magic control and manipulation. She needed to forge her glass armor in a way that has more magic capacitance and less weight. Sadly, she was failing the entire morning. Ebony’s and Rem’s theory that Mayor Port would be sacrificing the slums to satisfy Illma and the X-cution squad checked out. Everything in the area; from the hidden black market to Ebony’s house, got either charcoaled and dusted. People were being pulled from their home and man-handled. They were the lucky one. Scathach could identify patches of blood where several people got crushed to death. She could even see a torso connected to a pile of blood that was a leg. Luxinna looked away from her binocular and nearly puked. “Why are they doing this?” Scathach looked at the elf with sympathy. The young girl never saw the scene of bloodshed before, none of them did. The warrior maid dreaded the day that her wards had to enter the battlefield. In her point of view, none of them were ready for this bloodshed. They should start the blood-stain path with a chicken, not a crying and begging human. “Get back to the training,” Scathach replied. “You don’t have to look at this if you don’t want to.” Luxinna wasn’t having any of that. In these last few months, she had gone from a hermit to learning she was born as a joke from heaven. Last week alone got a demon princess to punch her in the face. She had enough of this stupid downward spiral. It was time she got back up. “No, we are going to have a conversation right now,” Luxinna said. “I don’t get you. Scathach, you are like the mother I never had. My mom left when my sister was born. My father disowned me. All of my friends turned my back on me! My home kicked me out. Then you guys came along. Cy and Rem feel more like family than my family ever did, and I owe you everything. You were there checking on me every training session. You taught me how to do maths, how to use a spear, and even helped me pick out my clothes.” “And you are a great student,” Scathach nodded somberly. “It’s a shame that I am the one teaching you everything your parents should have.” Scathach meant it. These kids were annoying to deal with, but they were the brightest bunch she ever taught. Rem was a rebelling contrarian, but his unpredictability was impressive. Despite all the disasters she caused, Scathach would be lying if she said she wasn’t proud of the goddess’ dangerous concoction. But the elf was her favorite; diligent and eager to learn; who wouldn’t want that kind of student. “Yeah, but there is one problem with that?” Luxinna said. “Why did you do all those stuff?” “What are you talking about?” “You know what I am talking about?” Luxinna pleaded. “Ebony, Marley, this entire town, why don’t you do anything? For heaven’s sake, you are an S-Ranker. I don’t get it. Why are you so obstinate to the point Rem had to threaten you into cooperating?” Scathach sighed. She didn’t want to talk about this. However, she knew. Sooner or later, she must tell this to her favorite student. It was painful to dock her expectation, but beggar couldn’t be a chooser. “Lux, there are many fucks up things in this world,” Scathach said. “If I help one person for free, then everyone will ask why I don’t help them all. It is impossible to help everyone. Even if I can pull that miracle off, aiding one person will be offending another. Do you think I can survive, provoking the like of the Isle of Knowledge or the gods on my lonesome?” “Is that why you abandon Ebony?” Scathach laughed sarcastically. “Did Ebony tell you she only contact me when it was clear Majesty would lose the fight for the Demonic Continent’s throne?” Scathach said. “She was counting on me to disrupt the entire nation’s stability for the sake of her husband!? Would you prefer I throw an entire country into chaos for a friend?” Luxinna hesitated, but she had another point. “But you knew she was pregnant with Melody,” Luxinna said. “You prepare to let an unborn child die.” Scathach threw her head to the ground. “What do you expect me to do?” Scathach said. “Help them escape, and Jekyll would know it was me in an instant. The friends Ebony has can call on can be counted in one hand. The moment he felt anything funny, he would call my enemies for aid, and the situation will be even worse.” “You could call the rest of the gods!?” “They won’t help,” Scathach explained. “The gods won’t help anyone unless they felt like it or get some compensation; a compensation the Solarmaria couldn’t give.” Luxinna sat there, depressed. “Then why did you take me in,” Luxinna said after a long silence. “Why are you willing to piss off my family and not the Aztellic?” “Because you have potential,” Scathach answered. “I admit I care little about casualties and the random joe on the street. They are going to die anyway. But I respect something that would bear fruit. I am a great warrior, so is my sister, but we have limits. Having old legend like us around won’t turn the world, so I want to invest in a warrior who will bear fruit and surpass me.” “Surpass you?” Luxinna struggled to find an answer. “I don’t even know what to do next? How can I become a knight who can save everyone when saving everyone is impossible?” “I don’t know,” Scathach admitted. “But you deserve credit for at least trying to be something. That is why I am so angry at the Drakokia. Your potential could accomplish so much, watching you grow will be a wonder. Imagine how insulted I felt when they threw away something I wish for so long like garbage.” Luxinna looked at the burning region of screams and tears. The X-cution, the lumbering suit of metal, tore apart another house as the elf watch in silence. “Scathach, what should I do?” Luxinna said. Scathach sighed and picked up her binocular. “Lux, your reason for living is something only you can tell?” the badger tiredly said. “Right now, unlike most people, I can say you will surpass me one day. I suggest you took a step forward. That is how the impossible got disprove. People see a possibility others can’t and move toward it a step at a time until they got there.” Luxinna watched the distant scene of the tragedy in silence. Her entire being was a cosmic joke; her history was a complete sham-in-making. All she ever wanted was to be a knight who would save everyone. It was a dream of a tomboyish girl who never met the difficulty of real life. Now things become complicated; reality and dream weren’t meant to coexist. The elf looked at the sky, wishing for a godly savior to come down, and stopped Illma. At least, she wanted the ghastly scene of children's tears and mechanical menace tearing down houses to break. The elf saw one girl searching for her mother. “I want to make it stop.” “What?” Scathach asked the young elf. “I know I can’t save everyone!” The elf stood up. “But I don’t want to see anyone in front of me suffer! I am fine if it was just a person, but want to save as many people as I can.” Scathach stared at her, amused. “You know you will eventually end up having to fight the entire world with that attitude,” the badger said, excitedly waiting for the answer. “Even Rem don’t dare do that. That is why he is playing this like a stealth game.” “That’s true,” Luxinna stood tall. “As long as nobody in front of me is crying is enough. I want to do at least that much.” “You are talking like Marley,” Scathach pointed out, observing the troops through her binoculars. “You can’t save everyone, Lux. You have to choose who to save.” “Yes,” Luxinna said. “But that is why I have these powers! If I can’t help everyone at once, I will save them one at a time. If I am too slow to protect all of them, then I have to be smarter and faster the next time. You said impossible happens by taking one step forward until you reach the goal. Then I will be that. I refuse to believe I can’t save every in my sight, so I will keep searching, keep innovating, and keep getting better so that no one can be hurt in front of me ever again. One day, I believe I will reach it, the knight who fast enough to save everyone.” “Not everyone has what it takes, you know?” Scathach got up. She couldn’t help but smile a little as she watched the young elf. “Yes,” Luxinna said. “That’s why I have Rem and the rest. I alone may not be enough, but together we will end the tragedy of the world.” Scathach laughed. “Good, but don’t act rashly now. You are nowhere near ready,” Scathach pointed to the distance. “We have to report that to the idiot?” Luxinna looked in the direction the badger was pointing; several levitating vehicles carrying a set of mechanical parts such as a long metal cylinder or a complicated-looking engine. Luxinna couldn’t help but have a bad feeling looking at those metal objects. “What is that?” “The Isle of knowledge’s issued Signum-S4,” Scathach answered. “It was a high-power magic cannon fuel by a high-grade power-core for Strategic Plasma Battery. Given enough time and fuel, one of them has enough output to wipe Millian of the map. I guess Illma plans to assemble that artillery on site and kill the dragon with mass bombardment. And she doesn’t bring one of them.” Luxinna looked at the Binocular and counted the transport. “There are seven of them.”

A loud chuckle echoed beyond the field of red poppies. Rem and Central were not joining the laugh. Central's rainbow hair ignited, burning hotter than all the time Rem had known her. "I can't believe an asshat like you think you have a chance!" The white-hair newcomer spoke. He appeared as a grown-up version of Rem in a pure white business suit and platinum silk shirt. Both his shoes and necktie were the colors sparkling golden sun while the pair of silver eyes glinted with all-consuming lunacy. The man beamed, and Rem grimaced. "No matter what age it is, you are still as preachy as Captian Planet," Rem commented. "So the little kid who often complain about how much humanity suck is gone. Huzzah all around, but as expected, he got an equally whiney replacement." The man cackled for a full minute. Then the laughter erupted into a furious raving. "You still treat me like a kid!" The man's face twisted with anger. "You never change, do you!? Do you think you can still punt me around like a ten-year-old?" Rem decided to answer the question with brutal honesty. "Yes," Rem rolled his eyes. "Look at yourself! You got yourself a suit, a necktie, and new shoes. Great! What is the point? The only thing you accomplish is overcompensating like dear old dad. Can you name anyone more insecure than our old man?" Silence "Yeah, I guess not," Rem continued. "The suit, the trash talk, the nihilism, everything tell the story of a man who is overcompensating. I know you love Dr. No, but I am not James Bond, and you are too lame to be Blofeld.” "SHUT UP!" The white-hair man's eyes bulged in rage. "You think you are above me-" "Yes," Rem cut the sentence in half. "Because I do not monologue." "Fine!" The white-hair man said. "But don't expect to win like last time. I am now the agent of Center Force you fated to become. I. AM. REM." Central groaned. "Central, tell Satholia to update the Center Force's naming convention," Rem raised his eyebrow. "So REM, what is your new gimmick? Infinite Mana? Seven lives? Bullshit overpower cheat code from another world's god?" "Got none of those," REM smirked. "Instead, I have this." A familiar short-sword appeared in REM's hand, and with a swipe, he unleashed the desert storm. To call the blast large was an understatement; it was downright lethal. The funnel of destruction sliced through the air. Red bolts of lightning accompanying the bellow of the desert sundered apart the field of poppies, desiccating everything it touched into sands. Rem finally realized he screwed up big-time. "Fuck." The funnel of a sandstorm--towering over three-storied building--engulfed him. The wind shredded his skin down to the muscle, spraying his blood, mangling his flesh into mush as it carried him away. The blast also destroyed half his face, including his left eye, as a final insult. Finally, after a kilometer of hell, the storm dissipated and sent the bloodied Rem skipping across the field of crimson poppies. He came to a stop in a bloody wreck of skin and muscle.  But his hearing still worked fine [Stop it already,] said the voice of Central. [What do you gain from doing this?] "Do you even pay an iota of attention when we talk?' REM replied with annoyance. 'We have zero goodwill between us. Seriously, it is annoying to listen to the crap he spoused. Superman? That is just a fictional character for children, you moron." Unable to find any counterpoint, Central could only avert her eyes. Rem's body refused to move. He knew a half-cook steak looked livelier alive than him right now. The light of consciousness started to dissipate like water on a hotplate. What a pathetic ending. REM, growing impatient, personally started to sand away Rem's morale. "You know this world is riddled with problems and self-righteous assholes!" REM said to the dying corpse. "Your hero never exists. Even if they do, they are always lairs. You should start separating dreams from realities and accept the truth. What the world needs is a good wipe and a hard reset!" REM spat angrily. "You should listen to that old liberal broke on TV a bit more. Give up and let it burns. The world doesn't deserve saving. There is no sky daddy to save humanity, and nothing matters. Get up with time, loser." Now at death's door, Rem had to admit that the white-hair bastard had a point. Real-world examples were flawed. People were natural-born babies scared to death of pain--the sin of comparison. People would rather chug down bleach than accept that thier righteousness could be an illusion that bred misery. The world was a cycle of prosperity, arrogance, and reset. Why should he even hope when karma will reset everything anyway? In the misty doubt, Rem felt something strange about that argument. REM was wrong. Humanity never accepted reality. After all, they were creatures who told a story about Leprechaun's gold despite knowing there was nothing at the end of the rainbow. Wait a minute, Rem's dying fingers twitched. There was a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow: the optical theory of light refraction. It was the discovery that eventually shaped the telescope and microscope.  Humanity built the stars and antibiotic from fantasy duct-taped to curiosity. That fantasy was not worthless. It was a cornerstone of human achievement. In Rem's heart, he was snickering at an idiot singing snake-oil. It was so funny it almost made him cried. Rem got it now. REM was the worst aspect of himself pumped up by the Center Force's programing to reset civilization once it got too evil. As an entity who believed in the cycle of fate, it was utterly incompatible with him. REM was a cynic who believed the repeat of the past was inevitable, while he was the optimist who fought for the future free from fate. It was hilarious how they existed in one body-- guess this must be what it meant to be multifaceted. "And what is your solution?" Rem summoned his strength and fought past his pain. "Accept the world is trash before applying to become a glorified garbage collector?"  "Stop with the hero talk," The cynic dusted his hand in disdain. "Changing the world? What a joke! Are you going to shove your garbage down people's throat and demand they accept it? Look at the result and tell me!" Rem punched the ground to lift himself off the floor. "Berlin Wall," Rem looked up, his missing skin and left eye didn't dampen his resolve one bit. "Gorbachev did change the world." "Gorbachev got booted!" REM argued furiously. "And you seriously using motherfucking Russia as an example for mankind?" "East and West Germany did unite." Rem got up on his foot and grimaced. Only his right leg was functional. The left was a mass of shattered bones held together by shredded tissues. "Germany survived its fall and communism lose." "A fluke!" REM replied as familiar short-sword reappeared in his hand. "2016 election." "OH FUCK NO!" REM yelled like he saw hell itself. "YOU WILL NOT TALK ABOUT 2016. WE WILL NOT TALK ABOUT THAT MAN! FUCK YOU! FUCK THAT ENTIRE YEAR! AND FUCK THE MOTHERFUCKING 4CHAN FOR MAKING IT HAPPENED." "Your tears are delicious," Rem smirked. The God-Emperor never disappointed. Poppies petal gathered at his injury in the last-ditch effort to keep to him standing. "Even now, he still cast a huge specter over you." "WIPE THAT SMIRK OF YOUR FACE!" "Brexit." "WHAT DID I TELL ABOUT 2016!?" "2020." "Please don't," REM begged. "I don't want to remember that year." Rem sighed. "Do you know what criticizing without raising a solution is?" Rem replied. "It's called complaining. If you cannot counter my message, then don't act like a smart ass and devalue the messenger. Come on! Fight back at me! What is so mighty about talking down on dream? Would it benefit anyone? Would the world run on self-defeating nihilism helps any sentient life? Come on! Don't run away from the question and answer me?!" "Mothe--" "Ad-hominem?" Rem sneered, standing up taller than his opponent. "Are you that desperate? Keep this in mind: who is the bigger fool? The fool who makes a pathetic argument or a fool who can't counter said argument." REM mirthlessly blasted Rem with another storm of sand. The white-hair man's face scrunched up in rage. His skin glowed with flaring light as he unleashed the might of [Desolator Blade]. However, after facing that attack once, Rem was ready. He charged up his muscle and lept away. "Any help, Central!?" Rem cried out, narrowly dodging a threatening torrent of sands. [Can't do it!] Central cried out, ducking under a rock to hide away from the carnage. [The Center Force cannot act against itself unless it on our queen's direction.] REM ignored her and ran after the fleeing Rem with murder in his eyes. A crash of sand sent Rem sprawling as he struggled to dodge one more attack. "You think you can beat me!?" REM screamed, unleashing a wall of sandstorms which formed a tornado tall enough to touch the sky. "I have unlimited power supplies from Center Force. Unlike you, I don't have a stack of nerfs. All my weapon's function is unlocked. I have the most powerful True Magic in the world at its maximum potential while you only have a lite version. Do you think you still have a chance?" Rem scrambled away, gritting his teeth as he soldiered past the pain from his injured legs. The magical poppies were the only thing holding his body together. "Yeah," Rem replied, getting up on his knee and summoned a similar weapon to his opponent. "Then why only uses [Desolator Blade]? If you have with all its arsenal, why don't you pull a weapon that turned the entire area into lava? Why is a man missing an eye and half his muscle mass have enough stamina to dodge your attack and talk shit back at you?" "ENOUGH!!!!!" REM swung his sword and sent the desiccative jet of sand at Rem. The blast dried the poppies and dug the trench of destruction in its path toward Rem. With a wave of [Desolator Blade], Rem conjured up a wall of sand with all his power. But despite his best effort, his meager defense barely disrupted the attack. Rem rolled across the ground. His hair and face coated with blood. The stench of iron kicked up his nose, but he still endured and got up. His legs never gave in, and he continued talking. "I guess it all makes sense since this is in my head. I can't die here, and even if I do, you are coming right along with me for a ride." Rem straightened himself and wiped the blood from his lip. "You can't kill me. That's why you resort to breaking me with those half-ass speech a cockroach won't swallow. You are the one at my whim here. That is the reason you can only use [Desolater Blade], isn't it? You can only use the weapon I had used. How does it feel to dog the heel of the man you hate?" REM gritted his teeth, screamed, and flicked another massive funnel of sandstorms at Rem. It took Rem everything ounce of focus to dodge, but his opponent's reaction gave him all the confirmations he needed. "Enough!" REM screeched. "We might have the same kit, but let me show you how out-gunned you are. Let me show you a real Anti-army attack." REM raised his blade. Sand swirled up from the ground and gathered at the short-sword. Wind and dust grew into a storming twister that reached the cloud. A sword of desert extended toward the sky like a knife of a god. "This is true power!" REM declared, his white hair fluttered in the wind, and his eyes widened in madness. "Behold [All-Creation]! I hold half of the greatest True Magic in my hand. With it, I wield authority over divinity and concept. Do you realize how pathetic you are? The greatest True Magic in the multiverse is only a glorified reality filler in your hand." Rem looked grimly.  Reality filler.  At least that explained how he couldn't use it as projectiles. He grimaced. Insulting someone's ability because they lost the argument was downright petty. But, if world-view created the foundation for True Magic, could it be possible that REM's cynical mindset misunderstood [All-Creation]. An extremist often lacked patience. REM would likely jump to the conclusion rather than optimize each component of the question. Now, how to best use this power? Against the tower of sand higher than the sky, Rem reached deep within himself to find an answer. He thought back about his source of hope. Doing the right thing was hard, and the symbol of good need power to inspire. Rem had the ideal, but now he needed that power. At that moment, facing against an inevitable, a slapdash idea suddenly flashed to his mind. Rem gave a wry hopeful look at the sky. He was going to get sued by DC comic for this. But what did they say again? Imitation was the sincerest form of flattery. REM finally finished charging his attack and brought it down. "Take this!" The mad-man screamed. "[Desolation]!" The all-consuming pillar slashed down to the ground. The area underneath the falling sandstorm was worn down by the abrasive sand. Such horrific wearing reduced the solid white surface into a kilometer meters deep ravine. Moisture around the blast range vanished, reducing the poppy to dust and turning the wind arid. The devastation transformed the area ten kilometers in length and four kilometers in width into an inhospitable desert. Rem's True Magic diffused throughout his body. It was a do or die moment. The attack was too massive to evade. He had no other choice left except blocking with every drop of strength he had. With that thought in mind, Rem dumped all his effort into this endeavor. It was the only shot to deploy the best defenses in his arsenal. Globe of sandstorm surrounded him in as a barrier and received the brunt of the force strong enough to wipe out a city. Invincible will VS overwhelming power? There was no contest. [Desolation] trumped Rem's defenses easily. The blade of sand scattered the sandstorm barrier by untame power and hammered Rem into the ground. His blood dried up as the sand reduced his body into a thin dried husk. The sandstorm sword severed his only functioning arms. Battered and defeated, the remains of his body couldn't be called a corpse. With a mighty roared, REM buried the mummified body into the newly created ravine with the full weight of the city-killing blade. All that remained of Rem Breaker was a mummified arm so withered it didn't even bleed. Central dropped on her knees, horrified. REM froze for solid three seconds, barely believing in his victory. He smiled and laughed madly. "Ideal!? Is this the power of hope and dream? Utterly pathetic! Accept reality, kid! It is a real-life logic that no half-baked barrier can block a nuke. You might not die, but how do you expect to get out of this. Learn your place, imbecile! Where is your retort? Oh right! You couldn't talk, aren't you punk!" The only thing answering him was the cold and shallow wind.

Rem climbed to the roof of the Hyper-channel’s carriages with Cytortia tailing behind him. He stood up handsomely before dropping to the floor face-first. Cytortia observed Rem’s stumbled — stunned. “Oh my god,” the goddess hurried to his aid. “Are you okay? Did they land a hit on you?” “No,” Rem muttered. “Just feeling lightheaded.” “You must be joking,” Cytortia said in disbelief. Remus Breaker was a man who defeated a World Enemy despite being a mere mortal. No eleven random crooks could reduce him to such a state. She needed an answer. Something happened. Cytortia glanced at her friend sweating on the floor — something horrible happened. But the resolve in his eyes silenced her. “Why are you trying this hard?” The goddess let the [Sage Force] flowed into him, lifting his Natural Hierarchy to stimulate his recovery. “You must hit your limit after that fight!” Rem sighed. “I couldn’t let them down,” Rem propped himself up and caught his breath. “The kid. That old man. It is unacceptable for their heroes to collapse in that room? The responsibility of stepping to the plate means I can’t let myself bleed until the fight is over.” That was when an explosion rocked the Control Chamber. … Seven seconds earlier. Marley immediately noticed something went wrong. Noises squeaking through his communicator tipped him the gist of the situation. The echo of gunshot and the screaming confirmed his suspicion. Then his instinct — sense honed from his experience in espionage and grueling life in combat — sounded the alarm. The girl felt suspicious. Her acting was good, animalistic even, but Marley excelled at spotting a liar. It took five seconds for him to realize the game. Had he reacted in time, Marley would end Luxinna scot-free. Sadly, he made a fatal miscalculation. He never thought an elf could use lightning. Biology class often stressed how the Central Nervous System managed active reflex. Marley wasn’t exempt from the rule. The elf realized this — and with her wild instinct — she exploited it to the fullest. Electrical sparked from her and up Marley’s leg before he teleported away. Those precious seconds were enough for Scathach to sprung into the room and attacked Marley in her true glory. The actions started so fast all combatant got the head or tail of its direction. Marley gritted his teeth. The brunette hair and punkish clothing confirmed what he suspected. Scathach lied. Now he either fight or received a new breathing hole through his abdomen. In that single second, three things transpired to spell disaster. First, Scathach, dual-wielding two spears, threw the implements at the two suckers. Meanwhile, Bruno launched an explosive fist at the attack like a brain-dead tool. Marley, being the smartest man in that room, decided he wanted none of this shit and skedaddled out via teleportation. Space fluctuation, explosive punch and the fake honey badger’s killer moved didn’t mix well. The octopus and the elf sensed the oncoming tragedy and dove out the window for dear life. The Control Chamber exploded. ... The explosion sent a char-grilled octopus smacking into the face of the unluckiest person on the train. Namely, the nature goddess. Smack! “Mmmf,” Cytortia cried, trying to pry the panic octopus from her face. It was a good attempt, but Za Wa wrapped itself around her head with a force to make duct tape proud. Then Cytortia tripped on her shoelaces and rolled toward the edge of the roof — fighting the octopus all the way. Being a smart man, Rem dragged her back before she fell to her doom. Rem suspected that their newly minted organization might just bite off more than it could chew. “Ummm,” Cytortia said, trying to yank off the golden invertebrate. “Get im off.” Rem’s sadistic streak tempted him to leave her to struggle like adorable kittens. However, things happened. Scathach and Marley landed on the carriage next to him and the goddess. The two master warriors looked furious. Their weapons brandished for carnage. Between them stood a fortunely-challenged goddess and her friends. A boy picked the microcosm to develop a kinship with a plate of sashimi. Rem sighed. Next time they need to kill an army, he must send Cytortia gift-wrapped to the commander. It won’t surprise him if lightning arrived to murder the E-rank luck goddess. It was worthless to argue against heaven, so at least he should weaponise shit luck. Let us say Rem barely survived the first salvo. … Luxinna was lucky. While her teammates had two frying pans teleported into their face, Luxinna survived her jump by latching to the edge of another carriage. With a huffed, she heaved herself to the roof and gaze at the burning wreck. She breathed a sighed of relief. Thankfully, the hostage already fled from the VIP room to ends of the train, or else the result would be horrific. Alas, Lady fortune’s favor wasn’t free. Bruno’s body slammed onto the roof, smoking like a burnt turkey and smelling even worse. He groaned. This hurt. It hurt even worse than his first bar-fight, and he got beaten over five-on-one in that brawl. Then he turned to see the culprit. “This is all your fault,” he complained to the elf. “Yes,” Luxinna proudly admitted. “The damsel in distress was my idea by the ways.” “What did they teach kid these days,” Bruno rolled onto his feet, swaying like he just drank a dodgy moonshine. “Do you guys realize there are twenty of us on the train?” Luxinna raised an eyebrow in a practice manner. “Where are they then?” At last current situation dawned in Bruno’s simple mind. To his credit, instead of melting down and screaming about how his destiny had abandoned him, Bruno hunched over and sulked. “You guys do them in?” Bruno facepalmed. “Please tell me they are not dead? The insurance won’t cover this.” “I cannot answer for Scathach,” Luxinna spoke cordially. “But Rem is too sappy to murder a kitten. Your men are fine. Maybe.” “Did you mention Scathach?” Bruno’s face fell. Bruno wasn’t stupid despite his size leading many to believe. Politics might not be his forte, but growing up in the hostile environment of the slave fighting ring shaped his survival know-how to an absurd degree. This know-how allowed him to the rise in the Liberator’s rank, surviving all the backstabbings to the late twenty, and he sure won’t abandon it. The operation had gone South West. The core vanished. All their men MIA, and that she-devil was here. Scathach’s presence ranked worse than an entire team of Grand Empire’s enforcer warping on top of him. Bruno believed in his ability to run away from enforcers, but not the scary-spear-lady. Even a man of Marley’s caliber resorted to buying time against Scathach. No mortal triumphed over that she-devil, not even in a game of Monopoly — no one was that skilled or evil. Bruno drew his massive claymore — time to fight for his life He needed the elf as leverage. Luxinna grimaced and took out a concealed dagger. It looked tiny. That was how the battle began. … Luxinna flew, straggling on the roof in barely a minute The elf gathered herself, but an explosive wave of energy send her dodging for survival yet again. The attack carved the roof below her to shred, taking away her footing, cornering the elf slowly toward her eventual defeat. Bruno strode forward. His claymore glowed with orange energy as he swung it, unleashing another wave of attack. This time Luxinna ran out of dodging space. Clenching her teeth, Luxinna summoned her True Magic, coating her knife in [Static Glass] and threw it at the energy wave. It was a competition between spell-casting and the prototype of True Magic. Electricity met the orange explosion, erupting in a blast of gold and orange, but the victor was clear. Luxinna’s knife — surging with lightning and force — hollowed out Bruno’s explosion. The backlash from having his attack detonating in his face sent Bruno flying and gave Luxinna a brief breathing room. Sadly, the cost of victory clanked to the ground. Her untamed power and the impact warped the dagger beyond repair. The situation improved from checkmate to severe material deficiency. Now the elf was fighting an opponent above her level without a weapon. Bruno got up more confused than hurt. He had [Steel Skin] skill to survive this punishment. Still, backfiring attack stung his ego in the worst avenue. To his credit, the giant man wasn’t mad. “Impressive,” Bruno admired his opponent. “But Lighting? Those pointy ear pricks would never teach you how to use that sore-spot. It must be harsh in Lightwell.” “They kicked me out when I was twelve,” Luxinna tried to find the ground for attack. She was running out of option. Bruno’s eyes softened. He knew abandonment. He saw a ghost of himself in the girl. She got the same steel as that boy who — once upon the time — struggled to survive in the slave fighting pit. Bruno respected that. Perhaps, if the circumstances were different, he might take the girl out for a drink. But sometime you couldn’t have what you wanted. “Your relative is mightily stupid.” “Yes,” Luxinna agreed with no hesitation. “But even then they are still family.” Bruno sighed. Maybe it time he shared his aged wisdom to the girl. “Stop pretending to be stupid,” Bruno stated, readying his sword. “What is wrong with my answer?” “You are not one of them, kiddo,” Bruno made his face. He had too much experience dealing with elves. “Those sanctimonious assholes are perpetually high on their ego for centuries, but not you. Hear from a man who never receives those parental love. Family is the people who watch your back and will claw over the battlefield to save your ass no matter what.” Those words hit Luxinna like a brick. And Bruno didn’t finish. “Your action spoke louder than words, kiddo,” Bruno waited patiently for the fight to continue. “No high and mighty elf would humiliate themselves as you did for the sake of someone they never met. Those tears might be false, but the resolve held. So tell me who you are, kiddo, because pretending with those holier-than-thou smartass isn’t cut out for you.” Luxinna stood stoic. Indescribable emotion flooded into her. Finally, her hand slipped into view with a white masked. She put the white disguise on, facing Bruno as who she truly became. Her blood’s judgment was not the be-all and end-all. Bruno was right. She had a family counting on her. “Nothing important,” she bought out a red flask. “Just a random knight passing by.” “Good, come and get me, Ms. Knight.” Bruno and Luxinna charged at each other. Two ornate glass work weaved into reality above Luxinna. It was a leaf-shape glass sculpture she created inside of her mind. As Luxinna moved to accept who she had to become, her True Magic evolved. The leaf split and conformed into two glass lotus. A new skill was born. [Static Glass: Savage Lotus] Meanwhile, the globules of golden glass formed around her body, wrapping her in golden gauntlets and greaves. Her mind tapped into a once flimsy grasped enlightenment and forged it into armor. While far from perfect, but it marked the choice she subconsciously chose and her path to greatness. [Static Glass: Serene Armor] Relying on her countless sparing with Scathach, Luxinna dodged the blow that would take her off head. She slid below Bruno’s blade and launched a counter-attack. That was how the blow traded. It was a battle between an opponent who ended the fight in the single blow versus the nimble warrior cladded in the armor of lightning and glass. Bruno’s swing created explosions with every hit, but Luxinna’s movement was too sharp to stop with his speed. Meanwhile, Luxinna struggled to pierce his defense in close combat. The elf still had other trick — the electrical-laser mode of [Savage Lotus] — but she needed an excellent timing to pull the closing shot. Luxinna grimaced. She envied Magnolia’s familiar and ice spells. That versatility provided so many options it was unfair. The entire Lightwell ceaselessly claimed it was a noble magic, fitting for Drakokia’s heir. Meanwhile, she got armor and lotuses. Then she remembered a friend who fought with nothing but tricks, smokes, and mirror. Luxinna let an out a wry smile. Bruno was right. She had a family—one who preferred intellect over flashy fireworks. A bottle of red liquid appeared in her hand. It was time she borrowed Rem’s rulebook. Luxinna dodged the next blow like she always had and smashed the bottle in front of Bruno’s face. The vial burst open, sending clouds of crimson gas into the giant’s eyes. Bruno was still smart enough to unleash the wave of energy to create some distance between him and Luxinna, but the damage had already been done. Bruno felt like someone had pure a tub of acid over his eyes. He swatted the air and cried out in pain. His balance was all over the place. However, despite that sudden disadvantage, Bruno was a seasoned combatant. He may lose his vision and suffer the agony of one thousand ants crawling his eyes, but his ear still work. Bruno heard a single tap of a footstep. Suddenly coming up with a new idea, he started flailing, acting like the pain drove him mad. That tapping footstep swiftly broke into a sprint. Bruno grinned. With practice motion, he veered toward the sound. His eyes shut from the gas, but his stance was perfect. The claymore swung. Explosive orange energy glowed, ready to explode whatever it hit to smithereens. Clang! “As expect, you are pretending,” said a girl’s voice, muffled by a mask. “I would have done the same. But hearing me coming isn’t the same as seeing me. So let me tell you, I win.” What the claymore collided with is a glass lotus oozing with power. The orange energy met with the beam of gold, and for the second time that day, Bruno’s attack backfired on him. The blast knocked Bruno backward, his weapon flew out of his hand. Bruno gritted his teeth. He was in a pinch for countless of times in his life, and he always prevail. He was a survivor who climbed from nothing to the warrior he was today. But at that moment, Bruno forgot that Luxinna had two lotus. Blinded, in pain and off-balance, Bruno was in a bind. His steel skin, sword, and explosive energy that made him almost invincible, couldn’t help him now. In Luxinna’s hand was her second lotus, charging with energy. She unleashed a lotus powered palm-strike that sent Bruno flying. His chest smoked from the damage, but combinations of his hardened skin and explosive energy nullified the worse of the blast. But the attack wasn’t over. Luxinna leaped up, [Serene armor] boosting her strength several folds. In a perfectly smooth movement, she grabbed Bruno’s claymore from the air. Coating the sword in golden glass, she plunged it toward the giant man. Bruno was out of option. He lost his sword, and the last blow had taken a toll on his body. The elf attack was too fast and too consistent that it was impossible for him to regenerate the orange energy surrounding his body. It didn’t take a genius to know that the claymore charged with such energy would cut through his [Steel Skin]. His only choice was to blast Luxinna with all the power in his reach and stopped her from landing the blow. BANG! It failed. Luxinna dodged the blast in mid-air and plunged the sword down with a power that broke the carriage roof to smithereens, taking both combatants smashing into the cabin below. Silence. Bruno looked at the sword impaling his shoulder. The girl’s magic left the blade partially melted into fragments. Still, having a piece of molten metal jabbed through his body was painful, but he would survive this. He glanced at the girl. “Why don’t aim for the head?” Luxinna stumbled to the nearest couch. “Don’t want too,” she replied softly. “You are not a bad person.” Bruno sigh. His heart had admitted defeat.

Chuang stared down the army in front of her. Not good. She hadn't recovered enough to deal with the entire army. Chuang doubted she could run away in this state. Surprisingly, Tai Hua raised her hand and issued a surprising instruction. "All commanders! Pursue the enemy!" she shouted. "I will stay to occupy my fellow student." Many A-rank generals frowned at that order. ”But Grand leader,” the swordsman commander stepped forward. ”You are injured, and she is alone. We can easily defeat her together. Why bother to challenge her one-on-one.” Tai Hua miffedly looked at her friend before announcing her explanation. ”Because she risks her life for the sake of victory and draws my blood. That is a sign of a worthy enemy. I won’t allow such an opponent to be surrounded and beaten up like a dog. Only an honorable duel is what she deserves.” ”But Grand leader,” the man glanced at the grievous wound on her stomach. ”Your condition-” ”Something this pathetic won’t stop me,” Tai Hua met Chuang murderous gazed with a cold grin. ”I would never lose to her, Akard. Now Go.” Akard nodded and signaled his troops to move. One-by-one, the army marched away hurriedly. Chuang let them past. She already had a way to stop them. Moreover, the woman in front of her posed a bigger problem. Soon only two Heavenly Daughters remained to face each other. ”You will regret this,” Chuang stated, conjuring a swarm of fiery birds. ”Don’t worry about my followers,” Tai Hua drew the sword from her scabbard. ”If an abomination like the X-cution can stop their righteousness, this crusade deserves to be lost.” ”[Fire Carrion]!” ”[Steel Counter Array]!” The clashes between the two erupted in a shower of spectacles seen by all on the battlefield. ... The Iron Army witnessed the towering eruption of fire clashing against the silver light and gulped. ”Unbelievable,” a soldier gulped. ”To think there is someone in this generation who give our Grand leader this much of a fight.” ”What do you expect?” said the dark skin woman wrapped in a shawl. ”Chuang is the second strongest Heavenly Daughter for a reason. Tai Hua might have better techniques and foundations, but Chuang is a combat prodigy. Such a genius only arrives once in a thousand yea-” Suddenly, Kar’Dia collapsed onto her knee mid-sentence. 2 more commanders also hit the floor following her. ”Your majesty!” One of the commanders rushed toward her young charge. ”Quickly get us the medical supply!” ”What is happening!” Akard cradled one of the struggling commanders. ”A recoil from activating [Mercy of Land] too abruptly.” huffed the fallen female commander. ”Chuang managed to get us good with that surprise bombardment. I don’t think the Vice-leader and I will be any help after this.” Akard gritted his teeth. The skirmish barely started, and they already down to half their A-rank. He didn’t need an oracle to know the coming battle will be steep. … Royal Consort Ruho stared at the number in front of her. ”40,000 men,” she wanted to weep. ”That at least a seventh of our army in one attack!” Her eyes hollowly stared ahead. ”How do we beat this?” Migras nodded. ”So this is the infamous snow our spies witnessed before the fall of Marijane,” Migras rubbed his beard. ”Lady Chuang is right to be concerned. Just how many secrets do you hold, Tai Hua Tianshang?” ”Brother Migras,” the Royal Consort looked. ”What should I do?” ”Learn from this blunder, Ruho,” Migras said. ”This failure is expensive, and the reimbursement will be painful, but you can’t give up after a setback. You must avoid showing weakness, or else our troop will be demoralized.” That was the moment the troop rushed in to report. “Lord Migras, our scout reported the Iron Army closing on us.” … The creek trembled as two women weaved articulate exchanges of wave after wave of miracles. They were absorbed in the fight, ignoring their injuries as they poured their very soul to floor the other. Tai Hua’s tried not to let her wounds slow her down, but the reality was unignorable; charred intestines weren’t an injury she could walk off. Until she got fixed up, the wound would still be hampering her footwork. Thus, Tai Hua had to fight out of her comfort zone-- standing moderately still and dueling Chuang without the aid of her agility and speed. On the other end, Chuang didn’t get much leeway’s over her hated rival. Her body was still recovering from her near-death assault. With her stamina and Mana barely recovered, her condition ruled out most high-tier spells in her arsenal. Both sides came at each other with a severe handicap. Not that anyone would realize that from the scale of the fight. “[Whirling Fire Spire Dances]” Chuang stomps her feet on the ground, creating a whirling spiral of flames that deflected the glowing sword-shape projectiles. Tai Hua whistled. Silver light flowed around her body and twisted into thirteen knives whirling in a Mobius ring around her. Behind Chuang, three magic circles appeared. Energy condensed and squeezed inside the ring of runes and seals like a volatile fluid. “[Flame Hammer/Circle Overload]!” The fluid energy flooded into the circles, breaking them with excessive power and sending a trio of massive hammers of flame raining down on Tai Hua. Tai Hua smirked. It was beyond her that shallow invention like spell-crafting could evolve to this point. Purposefully broke the spell formula to unleash more explosive power? Such a method was wasteful but certainly profitable for a one-shot spell. Any of the doubts she had about her theory vanished. The Chuang she knew only practiced her cultivation and martial-path. However, this Chuang knew both martial-path and advanced spell-crafting -- quite an impressive array of spells at that. Tai Hua drew her sword. An opponent who came back to the past for a fight deserved no lesser than the best she could offer. “[Blade Intent],” Tai Hua said. “[Carving the Sky].” Chuang cursed and fell flat to the ground as silver light cut her flaming barrages into two. She swore silently. That bitch must never take her seriously until now. The fact that Chuang only discovered how good Tai Hua was with [Blade Intent] proved that very well. [Blade Intent] was a few cultivation-art which survived Ancient-era. It was a technique spun around weaponizing the metaphysical concept of the blade, separate into three-stage. The Beginning Blade started the path of mastering grace and sharpness of the swords, or the [Blade Intent]. The Manifestation Blade manifested that intent into the Mana projection. Then finally, the path of blade intent split off into two. The practitioner could either master of shapeless blade intent known as the Savant Blade or piercing through all the obstacles between the sword light and the target with the path of Transcendent Blade. With enough time, a talented master could even attain full mastery of both specializations. With that knowledge, Chuang spotted a massive discrepancy instantly. Tai Hua’s previous attack was a variation of Savant Blade. Given the fact that Chuang still had all of her 32 organs, Tai Hua most likely didn’t attain full mastery over her craft. But that didn’t make sense. The light motes attack contained the principle of Savant and Transcendent Blade. With that kind of power, Tai Hua could take her down in a blink even when being hampered by crippling injuries. Chuang could only arrive at one conclusion. “You already mastered [Blade Intent] to its full potential once,” Chuang stated. “But somehow, you have to remaster it.” Tai Hua stayed silent and waved her sword. “[Blade Intent: Swipe Edge].” Chuang dodged the silver light snapping toward her like a wet piece of cloth. However, the fact that she couldn’t feel the defense-piercing power from that attack told her everything she wanted to know. Tai Hua knew all [Blade Intent] had to offer, but she didn’t fully master it at this time. It meant there was a chance she could be defeated. Chuang rushed at Tai Hua. Runes and Sigils coordinated with immense Mana in her vain as the hybridized version of martial art and spell-crafting unleashed its fury, raining barrage of fire bolts at Tai Hua. The Heavenly Daughter of Steel responded by slicing all 1200 discharges of fire with a flourishing of blades. After those bolts, Tai Hua sensed an opening for a decisive blow that would catch Chuang out of the air, but unfortunately, her stomach wound acted up. That flinches were enough to delay her for a second, allowing Chuang to react. Tai Hua bit past her pain and flung the silvers slice as well as launching all the sword-creation orbiting her at Chuang. The orange-hair girl surged with power and produced a magic-circle enlarged by raw firebird projection, receiving the attack and deflecting the attack away from her and altering the creek's landscape. But before the battle reached its eventual ending, a mechanical structure in the sky blinked and rocketed itself toward the two. Chuang and Tai Hua paused in surprise as the X-cution warped and detonated in the explosion that reduced the Palma Creek into a crater. … Chuang's original battle plan was to somehow separate Tai Hua from her army before ambushing them with her puppet and X-cution unit. However, things went wrong, Ruho noticed it when the allied army remobilized to face the Iron Army for the second round. The X-cution was visible in the sky. Weird. The cloaking spell Chuang cast should shield it from normal vision. Ruho tried to issue the command through her communicator. However, what she got instead was several X-cution units peeling from the air and falling toward her with astonishing speed. The Royal Consort could barely react when the unit exploded right in front of her. She caught glimpses of familiar figures trying to shield her from the explosion, but the worse barely began. Without warning, the attack from the X-cution rained on the battlefield. … The mercenary commander felt the firepower from the X-cution roasting his fellow brothers. He looked up to saw the ball of void energy swallowing his field of vision. He cursed. The ball of void wasted no time--swallowing him whole and reducing him into the skeleton in an instant. Meanwhile, across the Frisinia’s army, the X-cution dropped from the sky and started murdering every target in sight. Its steel fist crushed the average soldiers under a second. Stronger warrior managed to put up a fight. Some were even successful in destroying and X-cution unit, but none were able to deal with the machine destructive self-destruction sequence. .. The Iron Army also suffered under this surprise attack. Akard dealt against an X-cution, severing it in half across the joint. He quickly rolled away to avoid the worst of its self-destruct sequence. The commander rose and said the prayer to the innocent broken soul in the mechanical shell. None deserved such end, but a quick death was the only mercy he could provide. The Iron Army didn’t suffer as much as the Frisnia force, but they took enough casualties to make any attempt to march further into the enemy territory a fool’s errand. The A-rank commander’s prowess, combined with the soldier’s advanced training, meant that they managed to regroup quickly and counterattack against the X-cution in the sky. However, what they didn’t expect was the X-cution descending on the Frisnia’s army. Akard determinedly screamed his order. The Frisnia’s force in disarray presented the opportunity to take them all out in one fell swoop using the chaos to its maximum effect. Sadly for the Iron Army, several puppets emerged from the ground beneath them. A humongous centipede darted from the ground, knocking several soldiers into the skies. A mechanical lion followed it and started breathing fire onto the Iron Army. A shoot of steeled shot randomly among the army and exploded, taking some of the troop of the commission. Akard bit back a curse as the X-cutions continued to generate random carnage across the battlefield. Together with the puppet, this battle was turning into a chaotic bloodbath. There were denying it now. They need Tai Hua. .... On the remain of Palma Creek, a temporary truce stood as the two injured women received their report amongst a pile of broken X-cutions. Chuang grimaced. Ruho was the only commanding officials conscious after the X-cution’s initial attacks. Migras managed to shield her at the final moment, but the explosion still left comatose him. Luckily, the medical squad reached them in time to stabilize MIgras’s condition and provided first-aid to Ruho. The rest of the army wasn’t so lucky. The X-cution’s rebellion had caught them blind, and a third of the allied army suffered because of it. With this kind of damage, Frisnia would likely cross the border back to lick their wounds, and there was no way she could persuade them to pre-emptively attack Tai Hua’s stronghold in Starland until it was too late. Her opportunity to destroy her rival before she fully matured was dead. Tai Hua’s face was an indistinguishable mixture of calm and disgusted. The result just came in. The Iron Army suffered less damage compared to Frisnia, but any hope of her taking Frisnia was gone. She lost over 4,573 men in this battle with trice the number injured. Those numbers might be only a fraction of her total forces, but each of her troops was an indispensable investment. Any attempt to push into Frisinia after that deficit would turn into an overextension. She had to readjust her plan into recovering her forces inside Starland instead of progressing. And both of them knew who exactly to blame for this debacle. “It is your fault,” Tai Hua stated sternly. “The bloodshed both of us suffer today is on your hand.” “Excuse me?!” Chuang replied with incredulous outrage. “You are blaming me? You start this invasion!” “Yes, and it only turned this bloody because you get in my way. Isn’t your X-cution did this damage? What are you idiots thinking in allying with the Church and lunatic like Illma Zoldia Road? Nobles like you are always the same--blind to everything outside your lawn.” Chuang raged filled the air with flames that further melt the rock in this broken crater. “What about you!? Keep calling the world unfair, acting like you are entitled to all the world's greatness. You walk around like you know best for everyone! You know, I used to think you are annoying, but you are worse. You will be a bane that destroys us all. If you think you are dealing with a reckless child fighting against her rival, you are wrong. I am here turn everything you live for to hell. Know your place, trash.” Tai Hua growled, refusing to comprehend a word her rival. “You might sound a bit more convincing if you manage to hide your jealousy,” Tai Hua spitefully replied. “You lot made friends with murderers and tyrant to oppress the weak from your Ivory Tower. Isn’t it right for me to return the favor? The system is broken. Your refusal to accept the replacement is costing more lives every day. Just how many futures must you trample to suit that ego of yours, milady.” Both women glared at each other across the unhealable scar of hypocrisy. Without a word of farewell, both of them turned and left. While they could spend more time fighting each other, both of them knew any further fighting was a waste of time. Today was already pyrrhic enough. Chuang glanced at the sky. She delayed Tai Hua for now, but against two Heavenly Daughters, she had no chance. As hard as it was to admit it, she needed help, and there was only one candidate in mind to counter Kar’Dia’s support. The only counter for the Heavenly Daughter of Earth was a girl who would become an assistant director of the Alchemist Association in the future. Chuang needed to recruit Cytortia.

The portal opened with a soft hiss. Luxinna and Cytortia walked through the glowing portal, their face warped with emotion. Cytortia broke down crying. The trip had been hard for the group’s financial strength. “That is one long journey,” Luxinna stretched. Behind them, Scathach oversaw her worst nightmare. “This is yours,” Rem handed the Core to Marley. He nodded at twenty-four groaning haphazard bodies. “Give those clowns a stricter training. Their behavior and response on that train are pathetic.” Marley glanced at his bleeding men in distaste. Today, he had to bow his head to the victim and apologize. It was humiliating, but given the harm those idiots cause, it warranted. Even Bruno — known for his crudeness — couldn’t help but vented his frustration on those undisciplined idiots the moment he witnesses the injury on the elderly. Bruno might not show it, but he had a soft spot on hurting those who couldn’t defend themselves. It was one thing to fight a guy holding who knew what he was going into — hurting grandpa was another story. “Boss, it hurt,” the man groaned from the bullet wound. “Sure, it hurt,” Bruno scowled, holding his messily dressed shoulder. “You won’t die, so man up!” Marley handed Rem a plate of metal. “This is a communicator.” “How secure is it?” Rem asked. “Secure enough,” Marley walked into the portal. “Don’t mind informing me if something interesting comes. You can contact me in Grand Empire, kid.” “The name is Dream,” Rem gave him a codename. “Well,” Marley said, walking through the portal. “Let hope we never met soon, Dream.” The portal shrank into nothingness. And with it, the new adventure began. ... Within the Western Continent, the Grand Empire was without a doubt the largest faction. In terms of raw power, even the united force of the elves of Northland could barely resist it. With a strict social hierarchy, advance bureaucratic army and massive military, this Empire ruled more territories than any other nations in Phantasia. Perhaps only the Tengen Alliance in the East could compete with this massive juggernaut. However, the recent uprising staged Tai Hua Tianshang, and political scheming by LinLey crippled the Alliance so severely the position as the number one faction in Phantasia fell to Grand Empire by default. Note the gods as an exception because we didn’t qualify man-children. Once upon the time, Millian was a part of the Grand Empire. However, it won an unfortunate reward of being near one of the Seven Forbidden Zone; the Desolate Swamp of Smu’ag. Each Forbidden Zone was a world assimilated by Phantasia but so infested by monster and hazards that even the gods couldn’t conquer it. Being a neighbor to such area caused Millain to suffer a multiple incursion from monsters immigrating from Smu’ag, forcing the Grand Empire to abandon Millain two decades ago. Seeing the opportunities, the adventurers — mercenaries tasked with fulfilling request and mission — colonized the area. Despite initial ineptitude and corruption, the band of misfit created a stable nation known as Millian. As a gathering place for adventurers, aiming to explore Smu’ag, Millian was the central marketplace for many Forbidden Zone’s rare and exotic good. Its disassociation from the empire and promised of free beginning attracted many craftsmen and scholar wishing for freedom toward this place. This repaid growth caused a faction to be interested in Millian as a money pit. The faction’s name — Emma Enterprise. ... Millian’s market was a soup of cultures. The teashop would be a prominent example — eastern-style wooden hut with paper window and ornate door. Another was the bazaar wrapped in hot red cloth, selling magical accessories right out of Arabian stories. A young woman with crimson hair sat outside this teashop. She was beautiful. Her face was exquisite and noble. Her golden eyes were alluring, intelligent, and that perfect nose couldn’t be replicated no matter how much plastic surgery had advanced. She curiously gazed at the pub made with white bricks and auburn tiled roof originating right from a high fantasy hamlet. Something was about to get interesting. The pub’s door next burst open as a shabby-looking man got thrown out. A burly figure with bulging muscle walked out of the door. Several lanky minions flowed out behind him, rubbing their hand with glee. The sprawling man tried to rise, but a kick from the larger man beat him back to the street. The larger man’s mouth lifted into a condescending smile. “Hey little guy,” The grinning man taunted. “I think I saw something interesting in that bag. Why don’t you show it to me again? Come on!” The smaller man tried to scamper away, but the two goons block his path. “S-Stop it,” he begged, but one minion ripped the pouch from his belt and poured the content into his hand. There were five glittering gems, sparkling like the surface of the water. The rule was plain — the loser is thieves; the winner is king. It was the unchallenged rule everyone accepted. The authority would turn a blind eye to any crime involving the strong. Phantasia was such a place. Then a royal and melodious voice resounded. “It calls Water Stone of Ptah.” Everyone turned toward the red-hair lady sipping her tea. The woman continued to behave coolly despite all the starring, but secretly she felt elated. Her golden eyes scarcely contained the enthusiasm of being basked in the limelight. “The stone is the crystallization of water and Mana,” she continued to explain, ignoring the dangling man’s silent plea for help. “It forms near the area with running water and dense mana. Research suggests that it took at least a hundred years to crystallize naturally. The stone will degrade a few years after fully forming, making it even more precious. Each gem is an excellent catalyst for water Alchemy, suppressant for fire-related art, several cultivation techniques absorb the stone to raise the practitioner Stats.” The dangling man’s heart sank. It was bad enough that his lucky find had caught attention of the mass, but this woman had to make it worse by narrating the treasure’s properties. If that woman kept talking, he would surely die. “I believe the current market price for that stone is around nine-million credit,” the woman winked. The dangling man sulked as the crowd eyed in the stones with greed. “It is mine,” the larger man yelled, tossing the dangling man aside. “Get the stones!” One woman on the market yelled at her guard. “I want that stone for my fire-golem.” “Nine million will be mine!” The mob charged to the large man for the stone. The bruise and battered man crawled from the stampede like a dying toad. He was barely holding back tears. All his treasures were gone. That stone worth forty-five million. He could have lived free for a year and retired with that kind of wealth. Then a high-heel landed in front of him. “Hey little guy,” the damned red-hair loud-mouth leaned over, smiling like a devil. “You look somewhat sad. I can help you get the stone back, you know, but I will need something to encourage me.” The man cried. “How much do you need?” He answered the devil bitterly. “Nah,” the girl smugly checked her fingernail. “Your way of asking is too crude. I’m about to put myself in danger to help here. At least address me properly.” The man gritted his teeth in bitter frustration. “Oh, noble lady,” the man forced out these words. “How much do you want for lending aid to this lowly and worthless person, great one?” The red hair demoness smiled as her ego rose a peg. “Four out of the five stones will be enough,” she clapped her hand as the fighting for the stone raged. “Cheap, don’t you think?” Cheap my ass, the man thought. That thirty-six million credit right there. But the man forced smiled and nodded. “Yes, the young lady can have everything, but please help this poor me,” he replied. His heart clenched with hatred. The lady smiled. She popped her knuckle. Black devil horn emerged from her head. From her tail bone, an elastic black tail appeared, fully revealing herself as a demon race.  The battered man stared. Hateful as the girl was, he had to admit that she was alluring to the point the sky would bleed. Her body was perfect, curvaceous and well-toned. And her chest rivaled a watermelon which became a killing combo with her waist. Then she moved. She identified the first gem held by a woman with an eyepatch. One right hook won her the prize. She spotted another mage trying to flee with two of the stone, and she leaped toward him. The mage saw the red demoness coming at him and raised a water barrier. Grinning like a maniac, the lady in red brought her fire-cladded foot smash down on the shield. The strength, speed and raw destructive heat broke the defense in one attack. The mage looked at the golden-eyed demon in fear. “B-rank,” he recognized her aura. No other explanation was plausible, but the man refused to believe his luck. To become a B-rank, a person needed the least power-level of 3000. Given that Increasing a power-level after C-rank was noticeably harder, most people didn’t break into B-rank in their life. The massive hoarding of resources and training guideline common in Phantasia further reduced the number of B-rankers. But even average noble only become B-rank at around twenty-five. The girl in front of him couldn’t be over fifteen. “Stone please?” the girl smiled. “H-here,” the mage tossed the stone and ran. The girl smiled and charged into the crowd. The chaos and greed turned the street into a mass melee. Fight and chaos broke all over the place, but that image of utter carnage only filled the girl with glee. She rushed into the brawl. Anyone blocking her met a fist in the face. The girl’s golden eyes flashed as she leaped up and kicked another man in the face, sending up a cloud of dust where he landed. Finally, she approached her last target, the large man who started it all. The large man was having a miserable time protecting the stone. He already lost two in a sneak attack and was now under assault from three adventurers who rushed at him like hyenas. Earlier in the fight, both his minions had tried to backstab him for the stones. He gritted his teeth. How the hell did this disaster exploded in his face? The answer came as a red-hair-girl with horns and tail booting one of his assailants so hard he crashed into a bazaar looted to the point nothing remained. A spin kick from the red-hair-girl sent another person smashing miserably on the prior victims. The third got thrown into a decorative tree after a knockout punch. The larger man stared at the grinning demoness. “This is all your fault,” the large pointed his sword at the demon girl. “Are you satisfied, you demon!?” “Eh, it is you who started the fight, isn’t it,” the demon girl pulled out her tongue cheekily. “I only speed it along. Now hand me the stone, uncle, or I will give you a panda-eye.” “Die you, bitch!” The man threw a first. “Hey, uncle, are you serious?” the girl chided, dodging the blow that shattered the ground next to her. “You could have hurt someone with this, you know.” “Shut up,” the uncle said. “Sword and fist don’t have eyes! In this world, strength made the rule!” The demoness smiled. Finally, the large man admitted it. She was waiting for that admission. The girl slid through it and threw a flaming punch at the man’s face. The flames and the forces behind the blow gruesomely burnt off his left eye. Three tiny stones dropped to the ground as the larger man fell and started rolling in pain. “My eyes,” he screamed, clutching his burnt face, crying. “You burnt my eye.” “Sword and fist don’t have eyes,” The girl replied, turning the word she back at him, as she collected the stones. “You only have yourself to blame for being pathetically weak!” The man gritted his teeth and fainted. The girl was right. He said the word himself. But did that alone worth his eye? He couldn’t help but felt bitter about this injustice. The girl gathered the stone, took a deep breath and shouted down the street for everyone to hear. “Here the stone! The deal is done, OK!” She threw one stone across the sky. Everyone who heard her declaration watched the object worth nine millions credit few across the air. Greed and bloodlust shimmered over their face. There was no doubt. Whoever got that stone would be damned beyond redemption. The gem landed in front of its original bruise and battered holder. The man glanced at the stones and at the crowd rushing at him like packs of hyenas. In the distance, the girl waved at him cheekily; her horn and tails faded to nothingness. “No!” he grabbed his last stone and ran away from the crowd who chased after him with blood and greed. As for the demon girl, she slinked away. No one seemed to notice her anymore. It was as if they didn’t even know she existed. … At the edge of Millian, Rem narrated the mission statement. The wind blew among the fellow Horizon Dawn members. “Okay, folks,” Rem announced. “Our mission today is to find the Duchess of the Craft, Ebony Solarmaria. And then there is the hidden princess?” “One question,” Luxinna raised her hand. “Where?” Suddenly, Scathach, in her honey badger mode, tensed up. She looked to her right, and her eyes widened in disbelief. What she saw sent multiple questions flashing through her brain, which answered immediately. The fifteen-year-old mystery was finally unfolded. She needed to admit this: Satholia deserved the title of omniscience. “Kiddos, I believe we have an answer,” Scathach grimaced and started talking to her right. “So that is why she faked her death instead of asking for asylum? Because you got the eye.” Everyone looked toward the direction Scathach was talking. To their baffling surprise, the red-hair girl stood there, curiously sifting through the gang. She didn’t bother finding a place to hide or come up with an excuse. She stared at them with her golden eyes and a curious grin. “And look what the space gate brought?” The girl mused. “So, what brings you here, Ms. Scathach? I believe no one knows Ma made it out of the Continent alive. Not even you.” “Damn,” Scathach face-palmed and growled. “I almost mistook you for your mother. That chest must be genetic. But seriously, what brought you out here in the open? Do you realize how many people want you dead?” “They can try,” The girl replied. “Assuming the aloof and uncaring warrior maid is bothering to tell the Demonic Continent’s imperial family that I am alive. No, you won’t do it. The favor from Ma would outweigh anything they could offer. Nope, you are going to ally with us. I mean, we are the greatest forger in the entire world.” Cytortia nudged at Scathach. “Okay, who is she?” The goddess said. “I feel we got left out of this conversion.” “Ditto,” Luxinna agreed. “The Hidden Princess must find,” Scathach groaned. “But I would never have guessed that your boss would send me to recruit the princess of time bombs.” “Sorry, Ms. Scathach but let me introduce myself,” The girl mischievously flashed a smiled. Rem and Lux instinctively knew the smile was anything but trustworthy. “Hello, my name is Melody Majesty Aztellic Solarmaria. The rightful heir to the throne of Demonic continent.”

Aryssa Holyworth wasn’t back at 100%. No one could after being lambasted with enchanted fire, but she was back on her feet and thirsting for vengeance. The priestess in torn and dirtied robe rose to the occasion and checked her equally battered colleagues. Artos finally done healing the bruised company. Sorin was still out cold. Amitate was back on his feet, unlike Magnolia and Emily who simply collapses after finishing the wall of ice, isolating them and the survivors from further attack. The barricade of solid ice rose from floor to ceiling like a curtain to a stage of devastation. It was a decent effort from both ends to create solid 800 tons of ice barricade. “What are you doing? We need to kill the vampire.” “Which?” Emily Aztellic asked.  “Both! Are you an idiot? We need to wipe every single vampire from this place.” “Aryssa, enough,” Artos warned. “Hate to agree with the holier-than-thou idiot, but he is right,” Amitate agreed with his archenemy. “We don’t know who sent the robot and you are suggesting we should execute a potential ally. What type of drug are you on, dimwit?” Aryssa scrunched into a bundle of outrage. But it was the traitor himself who scored the finishing blow. “She isn’t on drug, Amitate,” said Sun Senwei who remained in his crater. “The Holy Church fed their propaganda onto her for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I need to give the Church credit on their indoctrination programms. All its members, from top to bottom, believe their side of the story is correct, even when the evidence point to the contrary. Be glad we kinda outnumber her, so she can’t beat us into accepting her reality.” Aryssa trudged toward Senwei, intending to commit murder. It was then that the true test of character arrived, the ice barricade, thickness in the meters, crumpled like thin foil as the beast returned. A battered vampire skidded from amidst the flying frozen chunk. Icy mist and ice brick flew as she bounced across the floor, landing in a crumpled heap. Serina tried to rise, but fell back down. Even vampire-grade regeneration won’t fix the brutal beating she just received. “Commander,” Joshua yelled worriedly as he witnessed the monster slowly marched to finish Serina once and for all. “Come on! You guys need to help.” “Oh,” Aryssa smiled sweetly. “I will help alright.” … Serina’s vision was a blur. Her body usually regenerated by now, but the electricity she ate was doing a number on her body. Oh, she doubted her healing factor got removed. No, the likeliest explanation for her lagging recovery was the unholy minefield of damages she suffered combined with the depleted Mana. Even vampire got limited in their healing. Serina never heard of a healing factor that wouldn’t correlate with Mana supplied. Imagine being able to heal despite running empty. Yeah, that would be totally unfair. The monster picked up the vampires by the throat and squeezed. Serina resisted to her best ability, slapping that armored with ineffectual punch lacking any power. That was the moment Aryssa dropped her attack. [Holy Scripture: Sanctification Spire] A monument of holy might appeared above the two and bathed them in a ray of light. Chain of sacred energy rose from the blessed ground and restrained both Luxinna and Serina. Serina’s blood froze she heard about this spell. It was a wide area of effect spell that restrained, weakened and roasted its victim to death with holy light emanating from the spire. The power packed behind this attack was at least low level of S-rank. Sickness slowly washed over Serina. Her skin smoked. The light was slowly disabling the blood inside her body, hampering their circulation into a snail's pace. Sweat rolled from skin and evaporated into vapor from the scalding heat. Crimson glows surfaced on her skin and feebly blocked the light, but this was only delaying the inevitable. Serina glared at Aryssa in the distance. That bitch launched the attack to take out both her and the monster. It was a smart move. She would have done the same, but that knowledge didn’t aid in stopping the well of bitterness rising from her heart. She couldn’t blame anyone but bad luck for this hopeless position. Reflection won’t matter. Even knowing the result, she would still leap in to defend her subordinates. Guess she and her mother weren’t much different. However, the light of destiny had a different opinion. Serina was meant for much more than dying in a sneak attack. In a surprising twist of fate, it was her tormentor that came to the rescue. Indeed, the holy spire was strong. Its strength was enough to imprison Luxinna who was also being weakened by the light, albeit to a much lesser extent compared to Serina due to benefit of not being a vampire. The crutch which spelled the Sanctification’s inevitable failure was Aryssa Holyworth’s lack of understanding in the elf’s 2nd Legend. If Aryssa fully understood Luxinna’s arsenal, she would have grabbed all 33 Stars, ran to the nearest bunker and prepared several magical nuke and few S-rank. But she didn’t and now she would experience the True Magic which fated to grow so powerful it put fear and awe into the heart of the gods. … “Stop!” Joshua rushed toward Aryssa who fell to her knees after launching her most powerful attack. “You are killing the Commander!” “That is a bonus!” Aryssa replied was maniacal. Her eyes were widened with ecstasy. “We get both the monster and the vampire.” Joshua, knowing that force was a must, drew a knife, but was stopped by a figure. “I know how you feel,” Artos grabbed his hand and squeezed, forcing Joshua to drop his weapon. “But this is a best shot at stopping that thing.” “Heh,” Joshua fearlessly stared into the elf’s eyes. “So, this is the true face of the Lightwell. You gladly toss aside the woman who saved you from Salazar at the moment it suits you. You know I don’t really feel that guilty about being a criminal anymore, because at least I still got more honor than you lot.” “Shut up.” Magnolia Drakokia glared at the boy. “A few must be sacrificed for the greater of many. Those sacrifice is what keep the world going around. That is reality.” Joshua responded with a spit, but Artos gently stepped aside. Not even bother to retaliate. Sadly, the 33 Stars seemed to forget the mystique of magic was the defiance against reality. A spell wich wrought miracles and salvation on a hopeless impossibility. Throwing the permanence of humanity and self-respect for the brief tenure of group satisfaction was the last offering Mana would accept. True Magic represented this unbending rebellion against the physics of certainty more than anything. Life was a battle and, as the power truest to life, the miracles of soul burned unreasonably bright against the oppressiveness of reality. Under the monument of disingenuous purity, True Magics buckled in rebellion. A brief second later, a golden light brighter than a star shone, then the forest of glass erupted. Golden glass grew from the steel floor like lush flowers and ferns, a beautiful ever-expanding formation of glittering crystal grew from the construct like the rising amalgamation born from the reaction of mercury and aluminum. It was akin to watching the video of planted grow at a fast forward. “What?” Aryssa, exhausted after putting she got into that spell, gaped at the miracles. Like a reverse water fall, golden glass grew like mosses on the massive spire of light. It shouldn’t be possible for anything to find purchase on the mirage composing of spell formula and holy light converted from Mana, but the glass did it. Leaf and petal of gold sprouted from the light spires, and the spread wouldn’t stop. Like black oily ink spreading in a water, the golden fern grew at an accelerated pace, covering the spires of light from top to bottom, blocking its blinding light with the golden shade. The spectators witness the weakening light of Holy Church utterly vanished behind the veil of golden glass. The monument was no longer the shining white beacon, but softly glowing lamp of gold and petal. Beast Luxinna turned toward the culprit behind the spell. Without the Spire weakening her, she easily snapped the of glowing energy immobilizing her. The girl took a step forward. Behind her, the collective garden of glass shimmered, releasing fireflies-like dandelion from those golden flowers. The golden seed shone, charging the elf with more power. … The 33 Stars watch wide-eye. “Impossible…” Aryssa was more than wide-eye. Her brain simply switched into the deep pool of denial. The priestess’ mind refused to witness the reality that her entire Mana pool accomplished nothing against this threat. “No way… This can’t be…” “Did she just... absorb Sanctification? How?” Magnolia Drakokia barely comprehended the tearing of law of magic theory and spell crafting. [Holy Scripture: Sanctification Spire] were composed of paranormal photon created by Mana but at the frequency of radiation found in Heaven Realm. Not even the angel or light attribute magic beast could assimilate the energy because of the unique frequency the light possessed. This radiation also weakened almost every biological and pseudo-soul like existence. Yes, this spell had been blocked, interrupted and even destroyed in the Church's long history, but never absorbed. No one ever plucked one of Holy Church’s best attack and digested it like candy. Until now. Luxinna turned toward the recovering stooges. Meanwhile, the Serina fell to the floor gasping for breath, the chain of light around her shattered to shards. The development was transparent, they just wagged their finger at the tiger. “Serve you right,” Joshua sneered at Artos and Magnolia. “Guess your sacrifice for greater good doesn’t accomplish the damn thing.” “Shut up,” Aryssa yelled. “We must--” Beast Luxinna appeared at the speed of the flash, picked Aryssa with one hand and smacked her to the floor. Joshua and the girl nearby him, Yurica, prepared to run, but someone pushed them down. “Sssh,” Sun Senwei leaned over the two. “There is nothing a predator loves more than a chase, and speaking of the chase, Amitate about to show us the result first-hand.” In the background Amitate tried to leap away in black fire, but the beast was faster. She flashed above him and nailed the demon to the floor with a heel drop. Not wasting a moment, she picked the winded demon with her clawed foot and threw him toward the downed priestess in a flip. Amitate slammed into the injured Aryssa head-first like a missile. Artos Sevar attempted to counterattack by unleashing his strongest moves. He combined the spirit of light, Hermione, and water, Penelope, into a cohesive torrent of compress holy water jet. It was attack guaranteed to carve the man in half. [Harmonic: River Breath] The attack carved toward Luxinna at the speed of a fighter jet, but it was too telegraphed to defeat the instinct and speed of a monster. Luxinna easily ran past the attack and brought Sevar to a close-quarter combat. Credit to Artos, his sword was fast, landing a slash against the elf, but Luxinna’s exoskeleton easily tanked the strike. Luxinna grabbed Artos sword and ran current through the blade. Remember the relationship between elf and lighting? Artos felt his world turned upside down. Behind Luxinna, the [River Breath], guided by two-spirit, dissipated to nothingness as a torrent of electricity dismantled Artos’ control over his spirit and then his conciousness. [Devil Flame: Black Bat]  [Infernal Ice: Hell Shackle] Emily cast the shackle of aquamarine to bind the elf’s feet. Meanwhile, the staggering Amitate attempted to finish the elf with giant bats make out of black inextinguishable flames. Luxinna unleashed an ion beam from her mouth, reducing the bat to nothing. She then shed her feet’s exoskeleton and walked out of the ice shackle without caring a damn. [Ourinaros: Wind Breath] Magnolia’s lion of a storm knocked Luxinna off her feet. [Ampule: Downburst]  A floating mermaid unleased a torrent of water down on the beastly form of Luxinna. [Frost thorn: Freezing Thorn] A spiky sculpture beside Magnolia fires a dozen thorn on the waterfall pinning Luxinna, freezing her in icy popsicle a series of crackling and popping noises. Silence. “Hey, do you think we got her?” Amitate dared ask. Apparently, he was alien to the concept of tempting fate. It was then the shuddering of ice answered Amitate’s question. No, being buried under ice wouldn’t stop Luxinna Alter. The frozen tower crumbled. A figure cladded in the overcharge of electricity rose from the falling rubbles. The standing trio sensed the presences of death as the falling ice exploded. They saw a flash of lightning. They knew what was coming and threw every they could to stop it. Shards of aquamarine ice impaled the floor and ionized air blew away the black fames. The blast of wind dug the hole in the floor, but missed the demonic elf. Everything failed. The unbeatable beast cladded in an armor of doom slammed into their midst. Magnolia saw that sharpened claw and her terrified face reflected from her execution’s glass face plate. In that semi second, the young heiress time slowed as her life flashed past her eyes. She wondered why and how did she end up here. Before the grim reaper knocking at her door, one last regret lingered in her mind. She never found out how her sister is doing. It was then the miracle arrives. Torrent of flames blasted from the ceiling and hit the unbeatable avatar of destruction. The swirling flames swirled like an ocean of inferno and carried the monster away from her. A woman emerged from the fire, cladded in a mental of flames, shining like the breaking ray of sunshine. Then she heard the alluring and energetic voice which chimed like dancing sparks. “Whew, it appears I arrive just in the nick of a time.” … The remaining 33 Stars watched her arrive in full. Clad in a mantel of sun fires, the knights of Horizon Dawn stepped from out of blazing flames. Melody Solarmaria updated her clothing again. As the most fashionistas of the knight, she updated her combat gear after decently exposing herself to Earth’s culture courtesy of Rem. Melody sported a new elegant form-fitting blouse made of Aria-steel thread and Alchemically produced fiber made of ground Sicilian Ghost Dragon’s scale. She whistled, silently thanking Cytortia who spent a month researching new products from their loot during the Millian crisis and produced a thread made from crushed dragon scale in an Alchemical technique that would have won her Alchemist of the Year award. Being a recent material, Melody only finished making her own gear, but she went all in on extravagant. Melody wove a skintight legging, vermilion scarf and dark brown leather jacket not unfamiliar to a fashion magazine. She even adapt Rem’s night vision filter into a stylish goggle. Flames around the bend into the tornado, which formed into the symbol, declaring the abolishing of disaster. Emily stared at the woman who trounced both her and Aryssa in the glamorous department stepped past her to confront the monster. A familiar man in a helmet and trench coat floated down beside her on a circle of sigils. “What a flashy entrance,” the Chronicler turned toward the utterly battered 33 Stars with annoyance dripping from his voice. “I hate to be a git, but, seriously, you were warned.” “Enough shit chat,” Melody cracked her fingers as her scarves fluttered in the air. “I will handle the tree hugger on drug. You fix the deadweights.” The Hope Dawn, the symbol of Horizon Dawn, burned to announce Satholia’s knight’s arrival.

A wolf howled, signaling its pack before walking toward an innocuous clearing. Strangely enough, despite invaders trickling into its hunting ground none of those strange creatures on two legs stepped the hollowed clearing supposedly contained nothing but open field. Like many times before, the wolf rushed into the hallowed ground and entered the barrier. The seemingly untouched space rippled, revealing what hid beneath the [Paradiso] Arcane erected by the Horizon Dawn. Operation Grave Guardian was speeding along. Rem sat cross-legged, levitating a few feet from the meditation mat, marshalling [Tenshou] to stimulate wide-area battle meditation and mind-link to all operatives on the field. Inside a mental-scape, with [Clairvoyance] spun on full-blast, Rem functioned as the communication and performance booster for the entire operation. “Any update,” Rem broke his concentration to ask the tech-heads, petting his newest minion. Melody spoke from the disassembling bench. Various tools and magnification lenses aided her in gutting the microscopic robots. Horizon Dawn had captured several more samples since the operation begun, and as the sole engineers of the group, it fell to Melody to decipher their mystery and invented a countermeasure. “I have finished assembling the new batch of EMP darts,” Melody gestured at those throwing darts. “I found something about the robotics, but it is useless information.” “Go on.” Melody adjusted her lenses configuration to zoom in on the micro-drones parts. “Every sample of the drone shows a consistently clean edge. I believe they are cut by a laser cutter, but using a few tests and [Heavenly Eye], I find some strange traces of impurities. Microscopic amount of iron-oxide deposit on Silver Steel alloy isn’t detrimental in magical Metallurgy, but it is so easily preventable by regularly cleaning the machine or replacing parts. Whoever created this robotics is working with an old and barely maintain equipment. Rem, I think we can cut El Acerbia from the suspect list. There is no way in hell the esteemed Director of the Isle of Knowledge is hanging a plan this convoluted on rusting equipments.” A door to their minivan slid opened. “My findings support that conclusion. The robot’s creator mass-manufactured these sophisticate as hell robots from junks,” Cytortia replaced the jug of a Horizon Dawn’s certified liquid EMP primer on Melody’s workstation. “Whoever is behind this must be insanely smart. Too smart.” “You found something,” Rem spoke. “Yeah,” Cytortia showed him a vial full of light-blue liquid. “I extracted those things energy source. An alchemical-base Mana reactor operated using this solution. Aside from Iron Oxide there are also some trace of Sodium Chloride.” “Salt? We are pretty near the ocean, so that ought to be expected.” “Rem, our head honcho created a complex alchemical formula using sea water and rusting equipment.” “I believe you can do something similar.” “Yeah,” Cytortia shrugged sarcastically. “One time yes, but repetitively recalculating the concentration with every batch is another story.” Rem almost got knocked out of his meditation. “Cy, some explanation please.” Cytortia took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t notice it without [Bio Empathy] to read the substance concentrations, but each battery was made unique to its concentration of impurities. Someone meticulously measured out each vial, took a reading, poured specific concentration of reagent to optimize every alchemical battery — all of them” Melody gaped. “Wait, you are saying he recreated a new serum for every robot in this forest? That iws bat-shit insanity. Wouldn’t it be easier to just purify and standardize the raw material?” Rem had a terrible feeling. “There are two explanations for this behavior. Either our suspect lacked replacement equipment or they didn’t need it because they can work around the demerit.” Melody looked at Rem. “How can you work around recreating hundreds different formulas?” Rem took a moment of silence. Mixing rouge scientist with technology directed his hunch south. Phantasia’s safety protocol was almost non-existent. This meant those crackpots might actually go overboard with their invention. Rem imagined several rogue creations that warranted Satholia ringing an alarm bell. Grey goo? No, if Nano-replicator swarms went rogue they would already kiss the bucket. WMD? Pointless, Phantasia already had that in spades. Bioweapon? Nah, it wasn’t their opponent's style. No, Rem thought about another possibility. Hell, as a fan of Superman, that guy tacked behind his subconscious right after Lex Luthor. He checked all the boxes too; heavily reliant on robotics, calculation capacity high enough to model a reagent/impurity optimization graph, and skilled enough to orchestrate this entire party. But why? What could it gain by attracting idiotic kids? If Rem’s instinct was correct, his top suspect had no motive to commit this crime. Power or ransom money held no sway over that enemy. Why arrange for this convoluted competition? Rem answered sternly. “Simple. They tabulated a graph modeling the energy source effectiveness with Impurity and reagent mass. He only needed to follow the model to get all the optimal concentration and mixed accordingly.” Melody’s eyes bulged. “No fucking way. He needs to manipulate two graphs for hundreds times.” “If my hunch is correct, it won’t be a problem for that specific enemy.” Cytortia realized Rem caught the identity of their enemy. “You know who are we fighting against?” “Not who, it is what,” Rem spoke. “But I only have a hunch. Better not make assumptions until we found more pieces of the puzzle. I am likely to be wrong, because its current strategy defied everything it should have done.” Rem didn’t voice what he believed they were up against. The odds were bad enough. This specific section of enemies were serious threat to every hero ever. Rem doubted even their combine might can wing this. Rem whispered to the wolf. “Warn every squad. Tried to track all the 33 Stars. They are likely the top victim.” … Roar! A massive horned gorilla with green fur roared at the hooded elf who somersaulted from it punched and onto golden lotus appearing in the air? [Overflow] Luxinna vanished in a flash of speed and lightning, darting into sight above the green beast. New golden lotus formed, lending the elf some mid-air leverage she needed to continue her assault. [Electro Gift] The golden [Static Glass] anklet on Luxinna’s lag flashed as its electromagnetisms stacked with the Arcane. The golden lotus beneath her feet magnified its electric field, maximising the repulsive thrust and launching Luxinna like a rail gun. [Overflow] + [Electro Gift] Luxinna released her muscle limit for sudden explosive punching power. Her fist, armored with a [Static Glass] gauntlet, slammed into the beast's head and exploded with force and electricity discharge. The explosion shook the earth and several nearby trees. To tie the carnage, the elf performed a triple spin in the air and landed beautifully as the behemoth behind collapsed with a thump. Luxinna raised her hand and cast another Arcane. [Electro Lorde] Pulse of electromagnetic wave washed over the unconscious monster, frying the robotic embedded in the spine and freeing it from the parasite control. “Phew,” Luxinna breathed. Horizon Dawn split into three teams. Rem acted as a solo coordinator. Melody and Luxinna hit the research bench. Meanwhile, Lux and Hikma took to the ground with aid of befriended animals to control the perimeter and prevented a magical beast above the participant paygrade from attacking en masse. Rem’s voice spoke in her head. Luxinna. Time to reposition. The squirrels spot Sorin Enma trying to rob several participants. I doubt he plans to let them escape via the badges. I need you to persuade him otherwise. Our wolf squad also spots the Sun Senwei, Holyworth and Cocogar trying to sneak to that position. I want you to deescalate all of them. Luxinna got to give it to Rem. Who knew animal friendship was this useful? “Roger. Any progress on your end?” Only theories. Nothing solids. … On the other end of the forest, Hikma sat under a shade, cooling down from his battle. Behind the boy, a huge hydra was buried beneath the earth, leaving only its heads above ground. [Conceptual Seal] produced [Paradiso] barrier bound the serpentine head, effectivly neutralising it. As a Primal Arcane, [Paradiso] represented the boundary separating the Multiverse and alternate realities. As the first seal and all fore-father of boundary technique, its strength as a defensive technique was only surpassed by its flexibility. Other than selective barrier with of vast varieties, [Paradiso] operated as a supreme containment and sealing option only limited by the user imagination. The hydra screeched and spewed acid, but it was pointless. [Paradiso] block everything from the high-pitch screeching to toxic fumes. Hikma. We got a problem. The Drakokia is heading deeper into the forest to pursue the Aztellic. Our wolves reported A-rank monster amassing nearby. The mastermind is counting on their battle to stop it. Hikma stretched out with [Tenshou]. Rem taught him the basic basic, but Hikma instantly realized he won’t hit Rem’s mastery with that Primal Arcane. It simply the price of knowing over a dozen skills. Hikma had so many weapons he couldn’t take any of them to its limit. Meanwhile, Rem, who played only one instrument, could invest his very being to take the technique beyond its peak. Still, Hikma learned enough to sense target’s presence using [Tenshou]. The connective consciousness linking him to the gang of 33 Stars shone like starlight. “On my ways.” … Luxinna stopped on the three branches. The elf growled. Green fog. She recognized this shade of colors. “Ok, come out,” Luxinna shouted. “Your connection with us is getting stronger,” a young voice said from beside her. Luxinna eyed her younger version. The manifestation of the Legend which gave her [Static Glass]. “What bought you here?” “I need your help,” The younger elf pointed downward. Luxinna watched black mud rose, swallowing the soft earth below her. Raw fear traveled down her spine. The mud was too familiar. Then it rippled. Golden vines emerged from the black lake. Grotesque flowers began blooming along the vine, revealing a gaping maw which haunted her nightmare. Luxinna knew this enemy too well. It was the first World Enemy she ever encountered. “The Paracis Corrupter?” Luxinna trembled upon seeing the foes the nearly assimilated her. “But Rem already killed it.” Her younger self laughed dryly. “Really? Yeah, Satholia butchered the monster down to its soul, but it still possessed you for sometimes. The consequences that infection usually lay dormant for eternity, but not for True Magic user. Luxinna, every elf is aligned with nurturing element except you. Don’t you think that is strange?” “I am a one-in-million fluke.” “Yes, but truth is you have a dormant life-attribute that is utterly overpowered by your affinity for lightning. Your possession by Paracis Corrupter mutates that affinity. Originally, your life-attribute is fated to wither as your reliance on lightning increases, but your training in True Magic and exponential increased in power gave it the opportunity to grow. Predictable development given Paracis Corrupter’s ability to absorb surrounding Mana and now that thing hit critical mass to emerge from the depth of your Mana Core.” “Why am I only hearing about this now?” “I am not your nanny, Luxinna. Hell, that guy already showed himself a few times. Don’t you think your physical ability is unnatural? No elf should be able to overclock your body and brain regularly with no side-effect. And shouldn’t the fact you rival a space-faring dragon-girl in hand-to-hand combat ring alarm-bells. But most blatant of all is your first run in with the Primordial. Remember Lucas’ House?” Luxinna recalled her investigation into the murders inside Venistalis. She stumbled across the presence of the Primordial, and the rest was a blur. But she recalled the savagery and roots. “You mean those are…” “Ding! Ding!” Younger Luxinna joylessly clapped. “You got your saved by your inner parasite, and now it will break free soon. You are starring your second trail.” “My second trail?” Luxinna’s face scrunched up as realization hit. “You can’t be serious. That thing is my second Legend. It is nothing like Cytortia’s.” The younger self snorted. “All True Magic is unique and so is the trail the WORLD designed. That thing is your second trail, Luxinna. Succeed and you will obtain power that makes every elf before you impotent.” “What if I fail?” “No idea,” The younger self admitted. “The test detail is absurd. You got to see it to believe it. Our chat time is nearly over. Remember, the trail will start when your mind lulled, so be prepared.” … Artos Sevar stabbed a rabid wolf through the heart and decapitated another. Beside him, Magnolia clicked her finger, unleashing the wrath of the woods on a massive troll and slice them in half with a wind blade. Elven bodyguards gathered around the duo in various stages of fatigues. They fought their ways throughout the forest for hours, besieged from all sides by rabid magical beasts. Artos waved his sword, summoning a deer created entirely from water. “Siegfried, heal,” Artos ordered. The deer bowed and radiated soothing water to alleviate the group's fatigues. “Just how many groups of monster we fought?” Magnolia huffed. While normal B-rank wolf worth a pest at most, the countless attacks and ambushes were taxing her Mana. “I lost count at 120,” Artos replied. “Milady,” one elf came forward. “I am about to speak of turn, but I notice something strange.” “Go ahead,” Magnolia growled. “The animals attacking us is make up of disjointed group. This species of wolf never hunted with foreign rivals. I used to be a hunter so I am familiar with their habit.” Magnolia’s annoyance hit the new level. “Okay, wha…” Artos picked that moment to interjected “You mean someone is controlling them and put them into squads?” “Yes,” the elf nodded, and started adding the detail now that he realized Artos was listening. “It is also a very well-built squad. The troll served as the frontline. The giant birds acting as aerial unit to sow chaos and the wolf to exploit it.” “Do you think I am stupid to the point I can’t notice the obvious,” Magnolia scowled. The elf shrank. “Calm down, Mag. Sometimes listening to many opinions before acting isn’t a sign of weakness.” Magnolia remained silent. She doubted her father would agree with that. Suddenly, noises rang. Sensing an attack, Artos Sevar reacted immediately, unleashing the wall of water the crashed with a current of black fires. Black inferno wielded by a demon spread across the forest. From the burning earth, two demon-kin greeted the elves’ party. “Yo, 23rd, 25th, you look pretty damn tired,” Amitate Aztellic mocked the elves. “Have fun playing with those dumb mutts?” “Pathetic,” the demoness in scantily designed short and black corset added. Emily Aztellic may not have her brother’s excessive mockery. Instead, she preferred to voice her arrogance in short and concise order. “Sneak attack? As expected from scumbag,” Magnolia prepared to summon all her spirits. Taking on Amitate alone would be easy, but the existence of Emily complicated the matters. Those two were the best tag-team in Phantasia, and together they ranked as the 19th on the 33 Stars list. “Hey, you are the one setting an ambush! We just do it better!" As they spoke, black flames spread. Four superhuman and multiple underlings were about to throw in a heated fiery scape once a tranquil sanctuary. Amitate’s unextinguishable magical fired consumed the trees and set the animals fleeing. Birds and beast went aflame while bees flee their hives. The begging of defenseless forest critters went unheard by a laughing demon and two so-called Children of Nature. But someone heard the cried, and he came to lay the law. [Pyro Lorde] The wind shifted. Around them, Black flames—inextinguishable without specific magical reagent or extraction ability — weakened and sank to the Earth. In less than a split second, the hazardous forest fire vanished from the radar, leaving the blackened wood and burnt animals behind. Suddenly, a humongous monkey flew past the group like it got punched by a fist of god. They blinked. That thing was an enormous gorilla at solid A-rank. How could the magical beast with an ability to threaten them be sent flying like that. Then he appeared. A figure in a black coat and helmet stepped into the brawl. The Hope Dawn—Horizon Dawn’s coat of arm — sewn proudly on his coat, unblemished even in this hellish landscape. Silence “Who the fuck are you?” Amitate sneered at the unknown. “Nothing major, just a weakling being called to stop you four,” Hikma slid the improved PACIFIST’s hilt into his palm. “I need to heal the damage from the fire. May you please step aside peacefully?” “Hell no.” All four 33 Stars answered unanimously. “Oh dear, well, just remember that offer still stand.”

Tengen continent Phantasia's history was brutal. Its history saw nations rose and fell in unending factional conflicts. Gruesome carnage and fear of complete annihilation forced multiple factions into an alliance for the sake of growth and survival. It should not be surprising that children everywhere in Phantasia was more or less used to the scene of war. For the victor, war meant glory and, for the loser, a tragic reality. Such conflict raged on the Tengen continent of Phantasia. A hundred years in the past, three factions united under a single alliance. A massive war that followed ended with said alliance absorbing enough territories to be rank as Phantasia's global player. At least until a dispute with the neighboring Fairy Realm fractured the massive coalition into three nations. One of these countries was Starland. A kingdom ruled by royal families descending from the Starfall Order. Starland, as a country, was prime exporter textiles and agriculture produces. Despite occasional hiccups in its taxes and political status quo, the Starfall Order's nobles and royalties managed to keep the country more or less free and lawful. And that was broken by one person. ... At the border of Starland, the Starfall Order's shooting-star flag was burning in the background. It was a total disaster. Flame licked the walled fort. Weapons, pieces of the bricks, and bodies covered the ground. Men in silver armor piled the remains of the defender by the wall after stripping them of all valuables. The fort's magical barrier stood broken and depleted. The takeover was merciless. Inside the wall, more remains littered the blood-pooled street. Nearly all windows in the battle-zone were in pieces.  It was a tragedy. One street's corner hid the bodies of two lovers, impaled and left to die in each other arms. A few streets away saw one boy hugging his dying puppy with a hole through its chest. The culprit of this disaster stood on a wooden platform in the middle of the fort. Her men, dressed in black armor was rounding up all surviving citizens before their leaders. Usually, It would be shocking for a tall girl in her late teen to be responsible for such destruction, but the town folks were more afraid than surprised.  No one could blame them--the girl was an avatar of iron-cladded will. Illustrious silver armor covered her well-honed muscle. Despite its size, the Ancient Greek breastplate's enchantments and craftsmanships was a masterwork that nicely highlighted her perk. The silver greaves and white chainmail pants she wore were ergonomic war pieces. The girl's silver hair and violet eyes shone like sword-edge.  "Citizen of Ford Marijane," She declared. "You have lived in the oppression of this man and his families, but now you are free!" Behind her, two soldiers in black dragged a middle-age man in torn and tattered jacket up to the platform. A woman and her twin daughter followed in chains. The state they were in told the girl ruthlessness better than anything.  The man's body was cover in cuts. His once proud and well-trimmed beard caked with blood. A dark-red smear was all the remained of his ears. The girls and the woman only looked marginally better. Their cloth was in pieces. Black and blue bruises covered their skin. Iron collar stapled the twin's hand and neck, foreshadowing the oncoming suffering. On that stage, both girls were huddling and crying in the arms of their heartbroken mother. All three were bound and gag at the mercy of the girl in silver. The girl issued one gesture, and the man was dragged in front of the crowd, instilling even more fear into the family. The chain tugged tight and dumped the man before the girl's feet. He tried to speak, but he could only mutter an unintelligible gurgling without his tongue. The girls wordlessly cried as they witnessed their father's fate. The woman with the hair of silver steel proclaimed. "The taxation this man levied against you have ended! Today is your new beginning!" She said, stepping on the lord head int the platform's wooden floor in a storm of splinters. The masses cringed at the violence. On the stage, the younger twin flinched, while the elder averted her eyes away from what was to come. "He declared me a witch! Stood with those oppressors and barred my path. His defeat is the justice of heaven. He has squandered his chance for peace. Now let him be an example to all those who dare oppose me!" The crowd gasped in fear as the woman pulled the beaten middle-aged man out of the woods. She grabbed the former noble by his hair and hung his drooling and bloodied body for the crowd. The goddess of war then drew her sword and sliced in one movement. Behind her, the nobleman's wife covered the eyes of the twins. All three of the victims trembled like a helpless rabbit. For the mother, this was all she could to redeem her failure and protect her children. For the young girls, this was the moment that would define their life of trauma and vengeance. A headless body fell before the silver executioner. She apathetically held the severed head dripping with blood for all the citizens to see. "I am not a coy woman, so I will make myself clear!" She held up the head of a father of two.  "This is what will happen to those that let nepotism and injustice foster! We are free men and women, not a slave whose fate will be decided by the so-called royalty. Time has arrived for us to tear those oppressors down. Let our merit, steel, and blood build a new world where we are free." She waved at the shattered and sobbing family. "They do not earn the right to decide who we are. Pick up your blade and joined me as my comrade. Together we will bring them down from their ivory tower. Join me and built the greatest empire since the twilight of the Ancient!" Hidden in the audience, a young boy looked at the lord's decapitated head in horror. Fearing the worse, the nauseous mother wrapped her hand around his mouth. She glanced around, anxiously worried that someone might overhear his cries. Suddenly, a voice called out amongst the crowd. "Are you crazy? You destroy our home. Everything was peaceful until you decide to attack without any warning! Why are you doing this?" The dark-skin man in short pants and vested jacket walked out of the crowd. His eyes glanced fearfully at the armed guard who began to inch toward their weapon. Despite his outburst, the girl only eyed him with interest. "You look like you know hard work, unlike these so-called nobles," the girl waved her men to stand down. "Speak up. I am listening." The man looked around him. "Do you even look at these people? You attacked their homes and killed their lord. And now you expected them to join you? What exactly is your plan, Tai Hua Tianshang?" "Good," the Heavenly Daughter of Steel smiled. "You have a gut to speak out against me for your people. I can respect bravery. For that merit, you will become the new lord of Marijane." A ripple of surprise guzzled throughout the crowd. "I know the lies those fools spread about me," Tai Hua ignored the crying family, and focused on the people. "They call me a terrorist. They label me a warmonger and murderer. It is because they are afraid. Those fools in Aurorin are trembling at my strength, my resolve, and my vision. They are right. They should fear the world where they had no power. In my new world, there will be no prejudice in sex, age, or social background. Everyone will be free to raise their criticism and decided their fate by their merit. For that world, I will ask you this, why do you bother hearing the lies of the cowards." The speech managed to get some nods out of a fraction of the public. Most of the brigands and criminals spotted the opportunity, and they bit on it. "All hail, Tai Hua!" One lanky looking man walked out and addressed the crowd. "The lass is right? Did we ever agree to follow those laws? Those rich pigs took our monies and bought a luxury wine with it. They never care about us, so why should we care about them. I think we should follow the lass, and robbed our money back right brother and sisters." It was a spark that lighted the fire of dissatisfaction. In the citizen's mind, all the former lord's failures to keep his promise slowly outweighed the good he did. It only took a little bit of self-convincing and victim-blaming for them to create a monster. "They are right!" A certain beggar yelled first. "It was because of those politicians jacking up the food price that my wife died. We deserve payback!" The spark was the first of too many condemnations that followed. It was an unreasonable triad aimed at the only representative of nobility present: a widow and two innocent girls. It began with a jeer. Then a random stone was flung and struck the mother who used her body to shield both her children. With that, the bandwagon set sail, and there would be no stopping it. Rotten fruits and vegetables sailed together with insults. "Yeah, it is all their fault for raising the price!" A well-built man threw a pebble together with the crowd. "Yes! Without them suppressing us, we will reach the star!" One woman said. "Kick the bitches out and sent them into the brothel. That is where they belong!" One particularly fat uncle joined in with the crowd. Stone after a stone flew; most of them hit the widow who tried her best to shield her children. It was only a glimmer, but a hint of concern sneaked into Tai Hua's eyes. The goddess in silver drew her blade slashed. The resulting winds turn all the flying projectile to dust. "Enough!" She yelled. Absolute silence arrived. The Heavenly Daughter of Steel looked over her shoulder. She never once considered how that pair of eyes that will haunt the children's nightmares for the years to come. "A force of Justice will not be resort to undiscipline lynching." Tai Hua addressed the crowd. "The demerit of their father is not their crime, and they will get judged as such. Kar'Dia, please take them away." A dark-skin woman in a white robe arrived in a flash, threw one disgusted looked at the crowd before disappearing in an instant with the family. Tai Hua turned toward the dark-skin man. "Will you join me?" Tai Hua motioned toward the shattered city's gate in the distance. "Or you can leave. I won't force anyone to follow me. That is my standard." The man gritted his teeth. The crowd was looking with expectancy at him with respect and envy. He didn't like this, but he knew this was a once in the lifetime opportunity. "Fine," The man said. "As long as you hurt none of the citizens, I will join you..." Tai Hua was overjoyed. "Open the supplies!" She spread her arms out and openly addressed the crowd. "Tonight, we celebrate our success, men. The road to freedom is near!" The crowd cheered widely for their new overlord. But in that euphoria, no one even considered what would happen to the family of three. Nobody paid attention to the bleeding corpse of the twin's father--a father who was left muted and dead without any jury and trail. Why would they care when glory was waiting for them? ... At the moment of Tai Hua's triumph, the capital of Starland was in an uproar. Bureaucrats and nobles panicked at the thought at a massive invasion. Order and conscription were issued to deal with this new threat. Yet, despite the air of crises, one girl in an elegant dress and brilliant blue hair was humming playfully. The sound of danger was music to her ears. Everything was going according to plan, but still, she needed to send a message. She activated the magical broadcasting device. "This is LinLey. I am addressing all Blue Sea Core's members," announced the girl in feign sadness. "I want you to announce my vote in favor of purging Marijane's family. Suitable punishment should get dispense for losing the fort to the Public Enemy No.1. Put anyone from Marijane under collusion charges. I want them executed the moment their relatives are found guilty of joining Tai Hua. Announced that the crime for aiding Tai Hua Tianshang would be an execution of up to seven generations of kin. Tell them I wanted to see some examples on the spikes tomorrow." "Where shall I find the examples?" A voice replied from the runes. "I don't know?" She said sarcastically. "The slum, perhaps? Who would care if those trashes die anyway?" The voice hesitated, but alas, he decided to answer back. "Yes, Milady." The communication got cut off, and the Heavenly Daughter of Water sighed. Tie Hua needed to die. She was too much of a risk. Kardia was too enamored with her girlfriend; she needed to go as well. It meant that the alliance with Chuang was necessary.  And Cytortia. Linley suppressed her giggles. Cytortia was barely a threat. The report she intercepted from the Drakokia indicated she barely retained three people on her gang. Her only edge was Scathach. The Drakokia was a total idiot for failing to connect the Warrior maid's appearance with Cytortia. Who else but Artio got a gall to cash in Scathach's favor? She leaned back on her chair. The room deep ocean color was her favorite. For her, the ocean was the ultimate schemer. What else could seem so empty yet filled with depth and life? LinLey fantasized the day she reigned over everything. The victory was hers for the taking. ... On the other side of the continent, in the world of poppy and chalked earth, cracks of light symbolizing the corruption of Center-force were still visible in the sky. The girl with rainbow hair and dress of pristine fire appears to meet the boy who owned this world. 'You'd return,' The girl said sternly. 'Why?' Rem sighed. "Satholia, and you, both hinted at the true nature of Magic," Rem said. "Let be honest here. Something is suspicious from the start." Rem began to narrate. "Satholia kicked the ass of the Olympians who are a juggernaut in their own right. Scathach said she rigged up a detector during the fight, and the reading destroyed the fundamental law of Mana conservation. Scathach said that when a mage does spell, they burn Mana." Rem took in a deep breath. "Satholia's power output didn't match her power consumption. The law was fucked, and fuck-up even further when we showed Scathach Luxina's new ore. So let be honest. How do Mana and Magic work?" 'You finally notice,' Central replied. 'Historically, Mana was first discovered by the Ancient, who used it as miracle energy. The Ancient invented cultivation technique to consolidate their Mana and channel it. However, the Ancient and their cultivation technique went extinct after one thousand years of horrific war amongst themselves. This decline of arcane knowledge led to the current era where Mana was used by burning up to fuel spell-casting instead of the building block of power.' "What is the difference between cultivation and spell-casting?" Rem asked. "You said all people have Magic inside of them, so how did these techniques affect your body?" 'How? That is a good question,' Central cocked her head amusingly. 'Burning up Mana in spell-casting is, without a doubt, the least efficient. Although systematic-spells provide many options, the permanent loss of Mana for them significantly undermines the development of your True Magic. Initial training in this process might see an increase in Mana and magical stat. But those are unsustainable doping cause by the scarring of Mana Core.' "What about cultivation?" 'Stop thinking about it,' Central waved that notion away. 'You don't have any manual. Even then, you will only be replacing your natural power with another. Incompatibility between your True Magic and cultivation method will cause death. Cultivation is like synthetic Nylon to True Magic's spider silk. It is good, but using it was essentially replacing a far superior material something artificial.' She gestured at the world around them. 'I will tell you the secret unknown to even the Ancient. Mana is indeed the miracle energy holding the universe together. But it is not used to create your foundation. Your foundation is created by who you are, not by power stockpiling! That is True Magic. The ultimate form of the miracle; power as unique and more complex beyond any computing as your DNA and protein.' The girl glowed. 'Sadly, no civilization has pioneered the path of True Magic,' The girl said. 'Are you prepare to step into uncharted water, Rem Breaker?' Rem was unamused. "Well, what do I have to lose?"

Next morning found the most interesting buddy-cop duo in a thousand-mile staring headfirst at the cheerful goddess. On the table were dishes of Ravine Snapper Steak served with nan. “Sorry guys but this is the best I whip up,” the goddess cheekily cheered while washing her pan. “Oh, and that nan is our last portion of flour, so I hope you can cope with an all-meat diet for a while.” Cy’s grin suddenly turned playful. “Not that it matters,” Cy said with a grin. “I guarantee you will love my food for all eternity after this plate.” The goddess laughed to herself. Luxinna and Rem shared a glance. “She put something in the food,” Rem stated. “Obviously,” Luxinna agreed. “But let be honest, we will eat it anyway.” Scathach strolled toward the table. She yawned, her unkempt brown-hair swayed back and forth in the pendulum motion. The respected master propped down, looked at the food and sighed. “Dammit,” Scathach’s eyes were that of a dead fish, and her voice was opposite of cheerful. “Ravine Snapper Steak. Infamous for its chewy texture, toughness, and stinks. Seriously, I wouldn’t accept Artio’s request if I learn this would be my dinner for weeks.” Luxinna didn’t like the Cytortia’s reaction. Only fiends holding every metric had such smiles. Her friends Eva made that smile so often it became traumatising. Scathach detected the strange atmosphere. She suspiciously checked her food. After her spell found no weird drug in the meat, she threw a confused stare at Luxinna and Rem before grudgingly bit into that steak. To her surprises, the meat missed its dreadful infamous stink. Instead of unforgiving stiffness, Scathach discovered a heavenly firm and tender fibre. Notorious wild stench blended with several sweet medicinal herbs in its own unique aroma. Flavors sang a beautiful piece of spices merging with the steak in tapestry Scathach never encountered. This plate was a providence of divinities. Scathach bet her leg Cytortia used alchemy to play with the mixing process, but not even alchemy extracted all the substance from the meat to such caliber. Witnessing Scathach transformed into an ecstatic child, Luxinna bit into the steak. The elf chewed the tender flesh, absorbed its juice, and fawned in the world’s loveliest smile. Her eyes rolled back to her head as she fainted from happiness. Rem stared and gently sampled his cut. “Perfectly well done,” he commented, wiping his mouth with napkins as he analyzed the flavor. “You are, without a doubt, a better cook than my mother given your excellence in seasonings and spices, but it is too good. Simple cooking utensils in the back of a van isn’t enough to soften this meat. I kill it, so I know. Glad to see you enjoy your True Magic.” “Wow, are you perpetually joyless or do you want to be mean?” “The former,” Rem stalely answered. “But to think upgrading flavors is your True Magic?” Cytortia face stuck between trying to laugh and cry at the same time. “No way! Improving food is only an aftereffect. My True Magic increases Natural Hierarchy.” “Natural what?” Luxinna woke back from her trip to heaven. Cytortia looked around uncomfortably. “It’s honestly hard to explain,” Cytortia said. “Here, let put it like this.” She started writing on the paper. STRWISENDDEX MAG “This is the five stats,” she explained. “Everyone has these value on their Status ID. But do you ever question why there are only five values? Yesterday Satholia came to me and started explaining.” Suddenly, everyone was paying attention. “These five values represent our magical and physical parameter,” Cytortia explained. “True Magic either amplify or use these numbers. Lux’s [Static Glass] creates glass, which transduce her MAG into electrical current and force. Rem, your augmentation doubled or tripled his END, DEX, and STR.” “Wait a minute,” Scathach realized something. “You are telling me that True Magic is a multiplier, but...” “Most spells and techniques scale around 45% of your magic,” Cytortia explained. “This make True Magic even more terrifying.” “I don’t get it!?” Lux yelled. “How does the scaling work?” “Ditto,” Rem nodded. “Can you explain this mathematically?” “Okay,” Cytortia said grabbing a piece of paper and write the formula. “Let us assume the formula for the power of an advance lightning spell is P=400+0.5(MAG), while Luxinna’s [Static Glass]’s power output is P=2(MAG) +200.” “Numbers...” Luxinna groaned. “Too many numbers.” “Relax this is simple Algebra,” Cytortia said. “Let us say your MAG is 300, according to the formula normal lightning spell will produce the power of 550.” “Meanwhile, Luxinna will produce the power of 800,” Rem said. “And as the stat goes up, the power gap will increase. According to these formulas, normal spell-casting will beat True Magic when MAG is less than 130.” “Yep, that is our weaknesses,” Cytortia said. “Compare to the top-dog using top of the line spell, our Magic will lose in power, but after our stats surpassed a certain threshold, no spell in the world will compare against True Magic.” “Start of weaker and become overpower late game, huh,” Luxinna concluded. “But how does this explain your cooking?” “Because my magic directly manipulate the hidden stats,” Cytortia explained. “In exchange for almost no offensive ability, the Blessing-type True Magic can alter attribute outside of the five of stats It alters factors like luck, morale or intelligence.” Cytortia filled a jug with water. For a second, the water in the container glowed green before returning to normal. “My magic, [Sage Force], controls two of these hidden stats: Natural Absorbance and Natural Hierarchy.” She poured each of them a cup. “Here, take a drink.” All of them took a sip. The drink was water, but the taste was abnormal. It was like someone had condensed all the acute purity of nature into the liquid. Rem felt his accumulated fatigued melting away. Scathach and Luxinna looked at the water that completely energized them in awe. “This isn’t water anymore,” Scathach hardly believed what she was seeing. “This qualifies as a recovery potion.” “That’s right,” Cytortia leaned back to stretch. “Everything in nature has hierarchy. Some plant lives longer. Tiger is higher than the cat on the food chain. [Sage Force] throw that rule out of the window and shift the hierarchy level upward.” It was the power birthed for a goddess who only wished to help others. “Whether the object is alive, as long as it is on that natural ladder, I can move it upward. With this power, margarine can rival the highest quality butter. A common herb can reach the height comparable to the plant of the Forbidden Zone. An eighty-year-old man can recover faster than someone in their prime. The only thing I need to do is condense a [Sage Force] inside the object and unleashes its power. If it doesn’t have a stamina requirement, this magic would stand on the border of wish-granting.” “So Natural Hierarchy allowed you to alter objected properties,” Scathach said. “What about Natural Absorbance?” Cytortia smirked and walked to the back of the van. She returned later with a herb, a sugar-pill and a bowl of water. “I pump Natural Absorbance of the water upward, while [Sage Force] on the herb.” Cytortia threw the glowing herb into the water. The herb landed in the water. At that moment, the green pigment leached into the water at the speed that made Scathach’s jaw dropped open for the tenth time this month. Cytortia waved her hand over the water and caused the herb to instantaneously withered into a thin soggy branch. Scathach’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull. “Okay,” Luxinna said, glancing at the twig. The piece of branches was all that remained from rush-green herbs. “That is both impressive and scary.” “It’s physically impossible,” Scathach muttered. “You extracted 99.998% of all the natural content of the branch with no Mana. Not even your master can do this.” “Yes,” Cytortia nodded. “I don’t know how it works, but True Magic is just absurd. A power that’s too unique to classify except in the loosest of terminology. All the while completely defying conventional rules to reflect the user’s identity and specialization.” Cytortia picked up a sugar-pill and tossed it into the emerald water. Instead of dissolving, the sugar-pill absorbed the green coloring while turning the water transparent again. Cytortia fished out the sugar-pill and threw it at Scathach. “I lift the Natural Absorbance of that pill to the Max,” Cytortia said. “No refining, no additive, and no refinement. Just a normal Health-leaves‘ essence absorbed into the pill.” Scathach checked the sugar-pill and nearly dropped it. “This qualifies medium-grade recovery-pill,” Scathach exclaimed. “If you sold this in the market, you will probably make over five-hundred percent profit.” Luxinna’s eyes glittered. “Hey, does this mean we can escape poverty!? Yeah!” Meanwhile, Rem was writing a list. “Hey, Cy,” Rem showed what he wrote to her. “I can’t think of a better time to ask this, but I think your magic arrive at the perfect timing.” Cytortia and Scathach looked at the list and winced. ... A few weeks later, the Black Mercy’s common room saw a major Tech upgrade. The development team on its last legged the extra gear on the coffee table. Cytortia pressed a button, detonating a red pellet inside a vacuum chamber. “Finally,” she managed. A bag of exhaustion was visible under her eyes. “Tear gas extracted from several spices and irritant agent. All the ingredients improved by [Sage Force], improving its effectiveness. Anyone inside this gas will try to crawl their eyes out.” “The blinding agent gas also worked effectively,” Scathach yelled from the bathroom. “Yep, I can’t see a thing,” Rem said nonchalantly. Luxinna entered the room with a tray of water. She glared accusingly into the bathroom. “Seriously, why do you suggest this idiotic idea?” She asked the boy who sat blindly in the bathroom. “Because we can’t afford to enter Millian unprepared,” Rem answered. “What happened in Lightwell was a disaster of epic proportion? We have to step up the game.” Rem and Scathach walked out of the bathroom shivering. “Okay, did the filter worked?” Rem asked, equally affected by the sleep deprivation. Cytortia sighed. “Yep, the filters worked,” Cytortia confirmed. “Scathach and I bent over backward trying to find the right composition. Why do you want a visor that can perceive light in the Infra-red spectrum under stress?” “Simple,” Rem said. “People play dead all the time and don’t let me started on the ambushing. However, I am sure that 99% of what we are up against don’t fake their body temperature.” “Paranoid much?” Luxinna said, handing Rem a glass of water. The boy took a long drink. “We must be paranoid” Rem explained. “If you want to succeed, prepare for the worst-case scenario. And Scathach, please revise the gear we created during these two weeks.” “Okay,” Scathach presented us with the gear. “Here are your new toys.” Scathach slammed a metal tube on the table. “A healing tablet made from 9:1 extracted of 99.998% Healthleaf and Cold-seed, pelletized into with an experimental scaffold.” Scathach looked admiringly at Cytortia. “Seriously, several Alchemists will kill for a tool like that.” “It’s only usable because I can hasten the scaffold’s absorption rate with [Sage Force],” Cytortia commented sadly, but she couldn’t help but smile proudly. “But yeah, it makes the pill-forming process easier.” “Anyway,” Scathach directed the conversation back into the tube. “Each of this tube contains twenty tablets. Popped these into your mouth and it will function like a medium-high-grade healing potion. While it couldn’t regrow limbs or organ, it will clear any cut and bruised and stabilized critical injuries. We only have about 160 tablets available, discounting 20 that we will sell, please keep that in mind.” Scathach presented us with a black-ball. “Smoke bomb made from grounded Northpole Fern and CNT mixture.” “What is a CNT mixture?” Luxinna asked. “A mixture of Charcoal, Nyx Obsidian, and Tharima Ore in 5:4:1 ratio respectively,” Cytortia explained. “Nyx Obsidian and Charcoal blocked the visible light while Tharima Ore was an excellent detonation source.” “Forgot, I asked anything,” the elf implored. “This act as a smokescreen that also lower the room temperature,” Scathach presented them a mask. “Which will help enhanced the target body temp so you can spot them right through thermal imaging.” The badger held up the blank white mask and began explaining. “We augmented the visor with an infrared filter,” Scathach explained. “This mask is capable of thermal imaging. The Aluminium-Mithril composite which made the mask body can stop the sword blow. It also has oxygen breather equipped in.” Scathach produce a red-smoke bomb. “Finally, the tear gas,” Scathach said. “We mixed at least twenty kinds of spices enhanced by Cytortia’s [Sage Force]. The scent and the irritant in this thing will send anything in C-rank falling in pain and will even get a poorly equipped B-class, and if you are lucky, it will send A-rank sprawling. Do not use it unless you have your mask on.” … The morning saw the van finally coming to rest at the refueling station. Luxinna stepped off the van to the sunlight. For the first time since she was born, the girls experienced the cultures outside of her forest. The girl stared in awe and fascination at the activities in front of her. The station doubled as a commercial center was full of people. Some wore armor while many wore suits. Several children were playing in front of a fountain in the center of the station. Three beautiful sculptures of an elven woman, a mage in wizardly robe and a knight stood around the altar spewing out waters. Luxinna walked on a white ceramic road leading to a massive building featuring an elliptical design roof and oval floors. She gulped. “You look like a country girl on her first visit to a city,” Rem said. “Feeling overwhelmed?” “Yeah,” Luxinna muttered. “Relax,” Cytortia walked up behind them. “What can go wrong?” It was without a doubt that Cytortia was a pro at planting flags.

Rem faced the young Princess with a sinister smile. For him, the term ‘mean words’ never existed. There only opinion and fact existed. No sane human cared about opinion. But the truth, especially in its truest and crudest form, was painful. If there was a factor to measure a human, it was an ability to face the painful reality and bravely accept it. Only by accepting and understanding reality could a person grow. Complaining about ‘mean word’ used to convey how harshness of truth was the first sign of weakness. For a human, it led to ignorance. And ignorance in a leader translated to catastrophe. Let it be known that Rem was the true follower of true equality. He would chew out any men or women regardless of age and position. External prettiness and position had zero swayed on his opinion. And thus, Rem spoke with no intention of keeping prisoner. “Hello there,” Rem said with a blatantly friendly and trustworthy smile. “And who might you be?” “Princess Velnia of Starland.” “I already know that,” Rem pointed at the two stooges sitting behind. “I am looking at the guest behind you.” Behind her, Albert Starling and Mercia looked at each other. They came in a formal dress and tuxedo for the party, but the current mood was akin to a battlefield. Everyone opposing the boy sensed something crawling in their skin. It was like they were witnessing the spiral of creation. An omniscient presence was looking at them behind the mask. “I am Mercia Auric.” “Albert Starlight.” “Yes, I know both of your reputation very well,” Rem said. “If you may excuse me, Princess, I need to make Ms. Tianshang feel worse. May you get out of the way?” “No,” Velnia answered politely. “I think you’re her lecture is incredible mean-spirit. Isn’t it already enough? Ms. Tianshang made a mistake, so you please just let bygones be bygones.” Rem smiled, trying to get a read on Velnia. She sounded sincere, but most people sounded sincere before they buried high-velocity lead in your skull. He needed to probe her. “You believe that is it—lesson learn, and all is forgiven? Chuang have turned my friend’s life into a nightmare for most of her childhood. I can’t see why holding my punch will serve any purpose.” Velnia looked at Rem with disgusted. “She already knows she is wrong! And you are holding what happened many years ago against her? Isn’t that too unreasonable? Palma Creek already happened. Lady Chuang and Lady Chuang can still make-up! What is the most important thing in the world right now is to unite all of mankind against Tai Hua?” Rem blinked. “Are you serious? Is this April the 1st?” Velnia looked at Rem like he grew a second head. “What is wrong with you? Why can’t you accept the fact that everyone can be friends?” “What about the two stooges behind you? I heard that one of them beaten an Earthling you take in half to death? And I also heard that Mr. Starling have a reputation as a scheming sell-out.” “That is false accusation!” Mercia yelled. “As a noble knight, I would never do such a thing?” Rem snorted. “Really,” Rem said. “Every noble family here have to step over someone to get where they are. Let be honest with yourselves, those who brag about their nobility is the last person you expect humility from. The greatest act of nobility is the one make without a purpose for influence, something you make by risking the ultimate price with zero-benefit. We are selfish, so start realizing in said selfishness.” Velnia calmly said. “Please tell me what is wrong with you?” Rem stopped. “What?” “Selfishness isn’t a good thing,” Velnia said with such innocent beautiful eyes. “How could you accept such a base emotion so readily? Isn’t such evil something we need to get rid? Everyone should pool their resources to build a better future—a perfect paradise where everyone is happy. Please, your petty criticism does nothing for that world.” What Velnia said got Rem stunned. He never expected this to happen. In that moment, he finally worked out how LinLey infiltrated Starland. The severity of the situation dawned on him like a car crash, but Rem only smirked. He only found this amusing. Thus, Rem Breaker cracked out laughing. “HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!” Rem couldn’t control himself. He struggled toward the drink, trying to stop himself from convulsing. He breathed in and out, much to the mixture of horror and curiosity of the guest. Rem wheezed toward a terrify waiter and swiped a drink from the tray. The boy sighed to heaven, counted to three, and gulped the alcohol down. He turned toward Velnia and started the roasting. “Princess Velnia, are you perhaps live under the notion that the word like ‘sorry’ and ‘let be friends okay’ is all it would take to solve the problem?” “It might sound impossible, but that is my dream,” Velnia said. Rem dropped his mockery somewhat. He could understand an impossible dream, but dreams were only achievable by incorporating reality. However, the princess was utterly oblivious to her situation. That was why he needed to be harsh. “What you have is not a dream. It is a delusion. Not that you don’t try hard enough, but you don’t understand, or even want to understand, the obstacle up ahead.” “What do you mean?” Velnia’s tone changed. The man in front of her pressed her nerve.  “You said everyone could forgive each other,” Rem pressed. “What would happen if I kill Mr. Starling and Ms. Auric, turned to you, and say I am sorry? Would you forgive me then?” The question hit the bulls-eyes. The Princess wanted to convince Rem otherwise, but she could only manage one feeble reply. “Why would you want to do that?” “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe one of Mercia’s men rape my wife, or Mr. Starling drive my father’s business to the ground, or I don’t like their politics. Whatever it is, there are hundred reasons for a random person on the street to murder you. If that happen, will you just let bygones be bygones the moment I apologize.” “You are taking this out of context!” “Do you think your people will forgive Tai Hua after what she did?” “They will understand!” “From the word of a princess who live in the tower of joy? Look at yourself, enter the room in a pretty dress, attend by two servants, shelter from the storm by your position. You are the last person they want to get a lecture from.” Velnia said nothing, and Rem mounted the full-on counter-assault. “Now let me ask you a question? Why do you think I am sure you are delusioning?” “Because you hate me,” Velnia replied saintly. “You are enjoying conflict because it make you happy.” “No, it is because the company you kept, in this case LinLey Tianshang” Everyone froze. No one believes this man could be a human. He beat Chuang to submission with words, looked down on the Princess of Seven Continental Alliance, and now slandered the Heavenly Daughter of Water. Who was he? Did this man know the meaning of fear? How could any underwear contain his ball? “What does this have to do with LinLey?” “Aham!” Rem coughed. “Princess, it is an honor to meet you. I humbly apologize for my senior sister's action. As her junior, I cannot allow Tai Hua to implicate the innocent into the bloody regime, so I am humbly asking for your cooperation to deal with our shame. I believe this is the first step into uniting the world.” Rem stared at her. “This is probably what LinLey sold you, right?” “Yes, because unlike you, Ms. LinLey know the meaning of cooperation.” Rem pointed at the blinking Chuang. “Can you believe it?” Rem snickered and nodded toward the Heavenly Daughter of Fire. “Do you have anything to say, O-Heavenly Daughter of Fire?”  Chuang couldn’t help but cracked a pitiful smile. She might dislike Rem, but she respected his opinion, which was much more than she could say about Velnia. “I am grateful you come to my defense, Princess,” Chuang curtsied while as she spoke with pity. “But I have to warn you: LinLey is the anti-thesis of honesty. That hell-spawn love pitting people against each other ever since she was five.” Cytortia joined in. “Chuang is right. Remember that time we tried to sneak into Kar’Dia’s workshop! That backstabber threw me out as a distraction, called Tai Hua, and sneaked inside herself while we were busily running into each other.” “The Wednesday Massacre,” Chuang glowered nostalgically. “That bitch lied to us from the very start—underwater ruin my ass. All those efforts just to extort Kar’Dia’s dagger. Then that sword-idiot went ballistic after Kar’Dia started crying. The most frustrating thing is the two-face bitch somehow convinced the blockhead that I am also in the ploy.” Cytortia cried at the memory. “That fight set my lab on fire! Why don’t you do anything to her?” “Shut up! Do you know how many blackmail materials she has? Don’t worry about her, shrimp! The moment I nail the traitors to the goal post you will get a turn shanking her in the gut as well! Seriously, woman, who the hell teach you to trust that underhanded bitch!” “Underhand? She is downright malicious!” Cytortia cried in fright. “That laughter is damn scary!” The audience stared at the two Heaven Daughters dissing the unpresented member. They watched as two seemingly out of reach figures  devolved into a vengeful ranting and questioned when did they get transport to an alternate reality. “I understand you must feel frustrate about LinLey,” Velnia tried to calm them down. “You three are friends, right? Why don’t you just come to Starland to meet her!?” She failed. ""NO FUCKING WAY!!!”” Cytortia and Chuang yelled. In that moment of lost Rem struck the blow that ended it all  “Princess, you said you want a paradise where everyone is happy,” Rem said. “But don’t you notice that, for a split second, I unite two people who never see eye-to-eye, while you fail. Doesn’t this prove that my selfishness triumph over your forgiveness?” Velnia wanted to say something else, but the murmur of the entire room clouded her response. Everyone finally realized that Rem just do the impossible a second ago. He united Chuang and Cytortia—two people infamous for their mutual animosity—cohesively under a single banner. Velnia could claim anything she wanted, but the single moment of fact outclassed every persuasion she could line up. If the last suggestion broke the debate, the following ended Velnia. “Know yourself and not your enemy, your chance of victory is halves. Know both yourself and your enemy, you will triumph for eternity. Know neither, and your only fate is failure,” Rem lectured. “You declare your enemy is selfishness and evil, yet you refuse to respect it—stupidly, childishly call them unclean as you avert your eyes. Worse is the total assurance in the flawlessness of your ideal. Each words you uttered declared your inability to accept any contrary opinions.” Rem continued. “You refused to know the enemy and don’t realize your own flaw. In this aspect, you are far worse than Chuang. At least the girl respected her opposition. You dismissed them from the start. The ineptitude and naivety you displayed would be hilarious, if it isn’t so tragic. Who do you think you are? You are no commoner without responsibility. No. You are the crown Princess partially responsible for the well-being of your people. Your slip-up create corruption. Your ignorance led to tragedy. Tai Hua already fucked your country, and you still have a nerve to lecture a stranger. If you don’t like my wording, the door is over there — get moving. Don't you realize I can tell you one million lies for you to keep living in that happy bubbles? I can smile like LinLey and make you love me, but your people don’t have that luxury, so what coming from me will be the truth and only the truth.” Rem glared at her. “The truth hurt, but it strengthens you,” the boy said. “What will it be? Will you run to the door or will you hear what people really think about you?” “Shut up, bastard,” Mercia came at Rem with a punch. But Rem already saw it coming. The boy moved to counter, but a magical wall abruptly flared between them. Velnia stumbled back into the arms of a waiting gentleman. He was a man in a black church uniform and a white scarf. She blushed the moment she came face-to-face with her rescuer. Albert Starling, who was hanging out of the background in fear of a verbal bashing, suddenly leapt up at the development. The young minister couldn’t believe his luck. “Incredible wisdom at such a young age,” the young man nodded toward Rem. “I have to ask what did Cytortia offer for your loyalty.” “You seem to think to think I work for Cytortia,” Rem said. “I would to call our relation a partnership.” “Ah, that explain it,” the young man said. “Mr. Lantern, is it? I have to say Green Lantern is quite an exotic name.” “The Madam was jesting,” Rem said. “My name is Hal Jordan; an adventurer archaeologist. Green Lantern is just a title Madam gave me.” Mercia snorted. The young man ignored Mercia and offered Rem his hand. “Orwell Mehest, lord Jordan. Please excuse the Princess, she is new to politic” Rem shook his hand. “No need to apologize. Beginners must start somewhere.” Orwell winked at the blushing Princess and turned toward Albert Starling. “You must be lord Starling,” Orwell greeted. “I have heard about your recent promotion. Congratulation on your new post as Princess’s personal tutors.” Albert shook his hand enthusiastically. “I am surprised such an insignificant news reached you, lord Orwell.” “And you must be Mercia,” Orwell nodded toward the female knight. “I have heard the rumor about your ferocity and beauty and I cannot say how much of an understatement is those rumor.” Orwell leaned over and kissed Mercia’s hand, causing the blushing young knight to light up with a mixture of shyness and satisfaction. “Ahh, it is nice to reunite with my colleagues,” Orwell said. “How are you guys doing, anyway?” “Good enough,” said Chuang. “It is nice to meet you again, Mehest,” Shyme said politely. Cytortia nodded, but refused to say anything else. Mehest smiled warmly at his old friends. He held Princess Velnia by her hand and whispered warmly into her ears. “Come with me, Princess,” Orwell Mehest sweetly said. “I believe Duke Lamington booked this building partly because its impressively view.” Orwell looked adoringly into the Princess’s irises. “I must tell you Venistalis’ light is something you will never forget.” The blushing Princess gasped with sudden delight as the gentlemanly figure led her to see the glimpsed of the imaginary paradise. Mercia stared dreamily at the handsome gentleman, while Albert Starling barely contained his excitement. “Cy,” Rem said when the figures vanished. “He is one of the 33 Stars, right?” “Yes, Orwell Mehest, one of the noble mages from Ikle. He ranks 30th out of the 33 Stars.”

The request left Scathach in stunned silence. Granting it was impossible. Melody may petition for an entire year, but there weren’t any manuals to give. Luxinna’s [Static Glass] was her exclusive True Magic. Even if Melody magically crowbarred into Luxinna’s head, she would be powerless to learn it. “Is there any problem?” Ebony said. “As bad of a friend you are, Ma said you never broke a wager.” “That’s… look, I cannot fulfill this one,” Scathach said uncomfortably. “The technique is unique to Luxinna.” Alas, the red-head was undeterred. “Oh please,” Melody responded, gesturing at the immobile elf. “I could master anything she learns. I refuse to believe I couldn’t learn the power of someone beneath me.” Rem lifted his eyebrows. If the Demonic Continent worked by this logic, then screwed down to the next seven generations was its fate. Again, the country was a logistical dead-man ship. “The technique has commonality with Inherited Skill,” Scathach played the diversion card. “How does it work then?” Melody scrutinized every syllable from Scathach. “Perhaps you have forgotten I wield the most prestigious Inherited Skill of the Aztellic Dynasty.” The world went silent for a few seconds before Melody resumed speaking. “Inherit skills are a powerful addition to fighting the power, but they are not techniques,” Melody spoke. “In simple terms, they lack growth. Cultivation Technique, Spell Casting, both have multiples learning steps, overlaying progress to take the technique to a pinnacle. We grade those priceless manuals proportional to the profound intricacies of each layer. Compared to them, Inherited skill is static. It’s gifted when you were born. The Isle of Knowledge even suggests its implantation. This is the first instance in history of ‘Inherit Skill’ exhibiting traits of growth.” Melody couldn’t hide an excitement in her voice. [Static Glass] felt like an Inherited Skill, but it was league more advanced. Even Heavenly Eyes couldn’t do this. “Lady Scathach, surely you know this power will revolutionize magic itself,” Melody drunkenly exclaimed. “Please don’t take me for an idiot and brush this discovery as a mundane occurrence. Those glass lotuses have an attribute of life imbued into it, while bring gilded with force, and powered by lightning. No Inherited skill ever specialized in these many properties, only a technique built over generations by the Ancient like our [Demonic Blood Cultivation] could. But even then, we fell short.” Luxinna blinked. No way. Did this girl understand [Static Glass] more than even herself? “The brilliance of her Mana outstrips mine,” Melody grudgingly confirmed. “It’s intensity and purity trumps average B-rankers by their lonesome. Only experience and pedigree allow me to come out on top. This leads to the most important subject. Her tactic, timing, and strategy — everything told me she at most has two months of formal training. Are you telling me an average Inherit Skill allowed her to match up to me? As someone who practice Phantasia’s most prestigious technique for a decade, these charades are an insult!” This was the moment Scathach had to admit Melody was ridiculously dangerous. She got intelligence, power, and charisma of a natural emperor. Maybe taking the throne was within the realm of possibility for her. Rem also saw it. He finally realized why Satholia sent them here. Recruitment was part of the mission, but the real one was crisis prevention. Melody Solarmaria was a self-center girl with the potential to lopsided the Demonic Continent. Let her be, she would chase that throne by allying with Heavenly Daughters and worse. She was a fuse to spark a civil war which, given the chips involved, would lead to a major world war between the Heavenly Daughters, Lightwell Forest, the Aztellic Dynasty, and the Enma clan. A carnage on the level of World War I was emerging, and Rem couldn’t let it unfolded. “Look here, Melody, I can’t. The pow-.” Scathach spoke as Rem stepped forward. The boy’s will be that of Superman — unbreakable steel powered by the star. “What? The power that be?” Melody countered, reading the Scathach’s lip with [Heavenly Eye], barely glancing at Rem. “Why she, and by extension your other disciple, can learn it and I can’t. And yes, I saw their Mana, they knew the technique too, right?” “Give it up,” Rem recommended Scathach with a stern voice. “She won’t quit when she is this close. I think it’s time to tell where she sits in the pecking order.” The boy’s tone sent a shiver down Scathach’s spine. It was the calm and controlled way he said it. Rem was serious. Cytortia used every inch of her heart to stop from fleeing to hide in a nearest hole. This wasn’t the anti-social, yeah-let-go-with-that Rem. His posture — this presence — it belonged to the superhuman who faced the Paracis outnumbered thirty against two and won. The voice of the protector who refused to fall until justice triumphed. “Anyway,” Rem called out. “Good job, Lux.” The prone elf twitched. “I meant it,” Rem said. “If not for your sacrifice, we would have lost. With this loss, we have a path to victory. I want you to know that. For this humiliation, we have prevented a Phantasia-scale war before it even begins. Thank you Luxinna, your loss is not in vain.” Lux lifted her hand and gave Rem a middle finger. Rem better took the win, or she would beat him to pieces. From the other side of the playing-field, Melody wasn’t amused. “You speak as if you already won,” she said, her eyes shining golden. “You think Mana’s quality can overcome the advantage of my species’s superiority.” “Assuming that gap existed,” Rem pointed out. “The difference between us already bridged it” “Difference in what?” Melody fluttered her hair. “Our lineage, our bloodline, our training, so much qualitative divide separating us it’s downright amusing.” “It’s simpler,” Rem looked up at the bright blue sky. “Our conviction.” Melody shifted minutely. Her confidence shook for a millimeter. “My conviction is genuine. I can tell you this.” “Real but misguided,” Rem corrected her. “You pitch to fight for a throne, in the name of a father you never know for stakes you dismiss. The tragedy is you never love your continent. People who love it won’t proudly proclaim atop their lungs that they will start a civil war on their own home. No, your conviction stems from the gratitude toward your mother. It’s not prosperity you seek, but revenge.” Ebony shook. That assessment hit too close. Melody remained silent, but her eyes sharpened into a murderous glare. “Your filial royalty is beautiful,” Rem continued to twist the knife further. “But I won’t let you bring hell to this world. Those innocent people deserve to live a happy life. There is always another way. You are hacking your father’s dreams apart and drowning it in blood. Please look at yourself before you commit the action you might regret when you lay dying by the sword.” “Shut up,” Melody said. “In a moment, I will floor you next to that elf, and Scathach will teach me exactly how your power work.” “Oh, you will learn,” Rem moved into a ready stance. “I will teach you. You won that right. Let I hope you like how I teach.” Melody didn’t reply, but move into her attack stance. ... In the background, Cytortia was nursing Luxinna back to sub-functional form. “Ow,” Luxinna clutched her jaw, leaning on Cytortia for support. “That punch hit harder than I thought.” “Do you believe he could win?” Cytortia said in a mixture of fascination and dread. Luxinna frowned. “On paper, Rem is dead meat. I hope you notice how bad his stamina has gotten lately. And the demon bitch is stronger than me. That fire is no joke.” “What is your current score?” Cytortia asked. “5 wins, 3 lost,” Luxinna answered. “And I am the one winning.” Cytortia gulped. All logic translated to a toasted Rem, but looking at that back, she believed otherwise. The mighty hero who stood for a cause when no one believed in it. The knight struggling on his last-leg because he couldn’t pay the price of defeat. She refused to believe that the hero would lose to a mere Princess. Even if said Princess sat among the most blessed in Phantasia. .... “Fight!” Scathach lifted the flag for the carnage. And a carnage it was. Melody rushed toward Rem, her hand glowing in deep crimson. A single blow would end it; her humiliation, her frustration, all of it wiped away in a single punch. She would lay him flat on his back and pummeled him until he begged for mercy — just like any other who dared to criticize her. “[Demonic Blood Cultivation: Asura Fist]!” In the tome of [Demonic Blood Cultivation], [Asura Fist] was, without doubt, the most sophisticated attack method. It was a brutal move combining on the reaction force from the ground, profound law of fire, and the enhancement effect from the user bloodline; flaming fist that with unstoppable momentum taking the form of the bloodline itself. Flames wrapped around Melody’s hand, forming into a head of a dragon. The dragon roared frightened Cytortia and sent Scathach’s hair standing. “[Sky Dragon Bloodline]!” Scathach’s eyes widened. “So, this is how she overpowers Luxinna. That Holy Beast’s bloodline must give her a body as tough as some demonic monster!” Cytortia panicked. Against that, Rem’s only chance was [Arrival of Dream]. What would he do? Rem — decisive and calmer than ever — met the rampaging dragon with his bare fist and no hesitation. “He met it head-on????” Luxinna cried out. Cytortia nearly fainted. Scathach’s jaw dropped. “Is he an idiot!?” Ebony exclaimed, frightened by such a suicidal impulse. “He wants to beat the ultimate technique of the royal family with an insignificant punch! Does he love death that much?” Like everyone else, Melody was stunned, but against this offense to her pride, she must crush this rebellion under her foot. The roaring dragon crashed against Rem’s fist. To nobody’s surprise, Rem’s fingers cracked. Each bone shattered from brute force. The hungry flames charred his arms black. Blood vessels busted from the pressure no mortal man could withstand.  Rem gritted his teeth in pain, his burnt and broken right arms flung back like a broken kite’s string. Yet, despite his injury, the boys shouldered forth and boosted forward with his Magic. That was how Melody deduced Rem’s plan. The realization left her in a millisecond of disbelief. Remus Breaker purposefully sacrificed his arms to land a hit. He overcame the impassable distance and raw offensive power that was [Asura Fist], not by winning, but losing to get himself closer to his victory. For the girl who never lost her entire life, this was the ultimate insult. Realizations came and gone under microseconds, but unquenchable bitterness remained. Rem made her victory pointless, exploiting it as a stone to move into perfect zoning for his counter. But Melody still kept her confidence. As the wielder of [Heavenly Eye], predicting his counter was child-plays. She had the [Sky Dragon Bloodline] as assurance. Luxinna’s lightning couldn’t defeat her. Rem needed to do better than that. The demoness activated her Heavenly Eyes to its fullest degree. The world she saw was one of blackness and white outlines. A sacred space where the present overlapped the future. Here Mana existed as a white hue of light. That was why she was so fascinated with their power. The golden lightning, the emerald ripples. In this sea of darkness, they outshone the dull white hue in a display of brilliance. The boy anticipated this scenario, and the moment he detected the hint, he tossed his chip. Rem poured his Magic into the air and reinforced it with such a speed that the spectator could smell the hint of ozone. For Melody, it was like a flashbang detonating in her face. Her [Heavenly Eye] screeched in pain as the blinding multicolor radiation blinded it. These signals of agony left her reeling. Ultimately, it was her eye resolution and magnification that landed her the second defeat of the day. A hand grabbed her forehead, and exotic power slammed into her [Heavenly Eye]. “You know things often break if I reinforcemed them too much,” Rem said. “Technically, my ability works by supplying my cell with power, but even then, I have to control its intensity and slowly get used to it.” Melody didn’t like the direction Rem’s suggested. “Wonder what happens when I used it on your precious eye? I’ll assume you said yes, so let do this.” The power surged. Melody saw a world inverting on itself. Her [Heavenly Eye] sparkled like someone just ran a national grid worth of power through her with a thousand electrical cable. She tried to scream, but she couldn’t. A karate chop landed on her throat before a red vial jammed into her mouth, stopping the scream dead. The vial exploded. ... “Melody!” Ebony screamed, watching a crimson cloud exploded in her daughter’s mouth in dread. “You know what,” Luxinna watched Melody rolled across the ground in tears, spatting up shards of glass, coughing up a throat-scorching cloud like she wanted to die. “I think I have it easy.” “Where is Rem?” Cytortia said with dread. Losing track of Demon King Rem sounded like a terrible way to die. What answered her was a loud crash. The spectators turned to see a boy kicking a house — Ebony’s dwelling, to be accurate. A crack ran across the section of the hut, severing a part of the structure away along with a third of Ebony’s mental capacity. Rem dragged the foundation with his remaining hand, and using his back as a lever, he sent it flying like the mighty Atlas tossing heaven itself. Two goddesses, an elf, and a demon gaped, mystified at the undaunting determination sending tons of stones and woods flying across the air. Their definition of the word limit died the moment Rem leaped on top of the improvised projectile and reinforced it with multicolor light. “Oh. My. God,” gasped the young goddess. A chair crashed down next to her, but she gave up caring. “Is he doing what I think he is doing?” “Yeah, he is throwing a house at Melody,” Luxinna watched in awe. A brick narrowly missed her head, but she ignored it. “How am I alive as that thing sparring partner?” “Stop!” Scathach screamed desperately, much to everyone’s surprise. “She is already down! She is already dead! Stoooooop!” As for Ebony, she wished for dear life that this monster never landed on Demonic Continent. Her daughter could survive many things, but she couldn’t rule the dead dynasty. All she dared to hope was her daughter surviving this beating. … Melody spat out a shard of glass. She felt like someone put an automatic grater on maxed and went wild in her throat. She wiped her eyes; her brain shook to find a counter. Clink! Red tiles fell next to her. Thump! This time it was a brick. Melody looked up to see the part of her bedroom flying into her face. That moment, a waterfall of tears threatened to shatter her determination. Topping of her nightmare was an unforgiving avatar of karma, demanding her repentance. Melody screamed and unleashed barrages of punches in desperation. It appeared to work, but as strong as she was, destroying over a ton of Rem’s supercharged rock was impossible with the half-succubus current strength. Craaaaashhhh! Melody’s body was crushed underneath the wall, and Ebony screamed. The young demoness blackout. ... Melody woke up a moment later and groaned in pain. A practitioner of [Demonic Blood Cultivation] wasn’t unfamiliar with pain, but these severe injuries were new. Her lower half trapped beneath the rubbles. Her arms and lower body fractured in several places. Blood dripped from her forehead. Her brilliant crimson hair coated with dust. Tap! That was when she saw that thing. Melody no longer believed he was human. A child of men wasn’t supposed to terrify her. How could a powerless man walk strong with such a badly burnt and twisted arm, anyway? That gritted teeth and pained face must be a lie. That limping must be a ruse, no matter how real it looks. He must be a god in disguise. What else could he be? A man of such steel couldn’t emerge from a race forsaken by heaven. Melody tried to claw away, but Rem on top of her, his knees pinning her broken arms to the ground. Then she finally saw the brick in his hand. “Oh,” she managed, seeing Rem lifted the brick. “This is gonna suck.” Thwack!

Rem wanted to complain about his misfortune. Okay, he admitted that he was a natural-born cheater, but this retaliation went way too far. "Mmmmf, " Rem struggled inside a mismatched diagram of Taoism and Celt sigils. He knew he won’t get out of this. Still, he refused to sit there and ate his fate. Instead, he struggled like a caterpillar, churning a wave pattern in the sand with all his might. "Stop it, mortal," Cytortia said, trying to ignore the muffled sound. "I invented the ritual myself. Trust me. It is perfectly safe,” the goddess hesitated. “Well, I'm no longer sure about that. Scathach jammed some Celtic techniques into the formula to make things extra spicy. I don’t believe you will die, but if worse comes to worst, I can still fix you up. So it will work out!” The goddess sunnily smiled at Rem. In return, Rem imagined flying kick the smile out of her face. He felt better already. That was when the perpetrator of this disaster approached with a grin so insidious that it wouldn’t look out of place in a slasher film. "Don't blame me, kid. As my newest student, you aren't permitted to use any weak-ass awakening formula. Oh, and I will treat any initial power-level lower than 800 as a failure." Rem gave out an unintelligible scream. "ZERO!!!" That was likely the worst mistake Scathach ever made. At that moment, the badger unleashed doom upon every tyrannical regime and blood-thirsty criminal. It started a countdown toward the final time evil had a good night of sleep. ... "Unlimited possibility is born from a single page of papers," Rem woke up to a woman's voice. "Have you ever heard of this phrase?" Rem founded himself lying on his back, staring up at the black expanse of starry paradise. An ever-shifting light of colors built the platform beneath him. He recognized the scent rose in the air. Whatever place he ended up in could only be described as artistically surreal. It felt too beautiful to exist in the world of man. Somehow, the woman in front of him stood even above that impossible standard. The woman sat on a reclining chair, reading a book of Harry Potter. The closest thing Rem associated her with was a gardener. Her skin was moderately tanned like she spent most of her time basking in the sun. Even with the distance between them, Rem could experience the scent of rose garden soothing him like a pheromone therapy. The woman's hair was lustrous black with the cheerfulness in her eyes shone like the magnificent sky. The sparkling gossamer dress she wore only add to that sunny effect.  But something told Rem that those colorful outdoor looks only hid an incredible natural charisma. The woman should not be underestimated. “We finally met, Rem,” the woman said. “My, my, you are as sharp as I expected. Maybe sharper even. Want a drink?” The woman materialized a can of soft-drink with a snap of her fingers.  “High-grade soda, containing 80% Hope, 15% possibilities and 5% Auroric Carbonate flavoring.” "I have a feeling that drink will give me diabetes," Rem replied. "I know you will say that," the woman remarked with a laugh and a sad smile. "But deep down, you of all people worship those concepts more than anything, Remus. That's why you hate humanity so much. You understand the pressure on you received and can’t bring yourself to hate them for it. Instead, your resentment is for me and mine's sake.” For some reason, a single tear rolled down Rem’s eye. The goddess smiled and introduced himself among stars shining brighter and more alluring than the cosmos. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Satholia. The living embodiment of the Good. The Goddess of Hope, the Queen of Center, and your ultimate patron." … Satholia and Rem sat on the edge of the multi-color platform. Below them were several windows showing events all over the multiverse. "Want some more Hope Cola?" Satholia graciously handed a can to Rem. “You must be famished." Rem looked at the screen full of death and destruction and popped the can quietly. One screen showed a planet-size purple lotus with fanged petals and tentacled stamen engulfing a green and yellow planet. Personally, Rem didn't want to know what transpired in that doomed world. "Is it this bad?" Satholia nodded solemnly. "It will be worse," Satholia looked at another screen, slowly clenching her fist in and out with anger. “I will not sugarcoat the situation. We are dealing with a multiverse-scale armageddon. The only advantage we have is time. And when that runs out, Phantasia will crumble with the multiverse following later.” "How does Phantasia belly-flopping cause a multiverse-level apocalypse?" “Rem, Phantasia is like a hybrid of a central hub and a lock to a Multiverse. Whoever controls this world, if they know what they are doing, will be able to freely traverse the entire multiverse. Because of this, Phantasia is the prime target for the World Enemy’s goal of multiversal annihilation.” Rem didn’t like that at all. "We are the front-line,” Rem said. ”I need more data. Moreover, do you have a plan?” "Rem, I already did everything I could do from here," Satholia stood up and walked toward the center of the platform. Rem followed her. "The problem is I am too powerful," Satholia complained. "This platform is isolated from all realities for a reason. If I am to enter the battle without reducing my power to a grain of what it is, my presence will tip the universal balance so severely reality itself will unravel. Trust me. You aren't the only one sick with this whiny universe." "So that's why things fuck up this badly," Rem said, finally comprehending how much of a raw deal both him and his patron got. "Your very intervention will destroy everything standing. All you can do is watch as everything goes to hell." "Yes," She sighed. "And even my clairvoyance is severely restraint, looking too far ahead will outright annihilated that timeline. At best, I can only foretell the event in a few months, and even then, the detail is extremely vague." "Why are you telling me this?" Rem couldn’t help but feel there was something odd about this arrangement. It was too random for the goddess of good to reach out to a nobody. There must be an underlying reason for all of this briefing. "I have done everything I can," Satholia said. "Truth to be told, I plan to rope you into this much later, but alas, you are the nearest of my ace-in-the-hole. To be short, I need you to guide her, Rem. The key to winning is the young Cytortia." Rem nearly keeled over. "I know," Satholia admitted. "She is far from an excellent candidate. Something you can relate, I presume." "Satholia, boss, no offense," Rem panicked for the first time in a long time. “Your candidate has no mental fortitude, and her luck is one of a kind. Moreover, there are better choices than me. Natural leaders, star athletes, kendo champion, or someone who scores the top of the nation in several sciences and still aces their sport. I'm the most mediocre person here." Satholia looked over the stars and spoke celestially. "Rem, why do you think you have [The Way of Optimism]?" "You gave it to me," Rem answered, for once unable to comprehend better responses. "No, you made it your own. My power never discriminates to share. That spark of hope you believe in never truly dies in spite of how the world tries to crush it. You refuse to bow to misanthropy despite all the excuses. That takes insurmountable optimism and hope. Cytortia also has that same spark inside of her. In time, you will come to see it as I do, and with that hope, you will end the tragedies of Phantasia." Rem’s eyes watered, but he quickly brushed off his tears. The validation was great and all, but he needed to focus and get that victory. "Why need more people?" Rem said. "I can’t do this mission alone.” "Rem," Satholia looked at him in the eyes. "Like it or not, you are the nearest card on the deck. The nations in your world already have enough problems with the merging with Phantasia. In the current chaos, there are several reasons to keep this project under wraps." Satholia raised a finger. "There are many untrustworthy sorts that can create a massive problem. Even if those governing bodies cooporated, it won’t do much. The Magic I am guiding you toward, are deeply correlated with passion and perspective. It is a power base on uniqueness and a wide outlook. With how your countries kept promoting standardization to the point of indoctrination, most of the forces Earth and many parts of Phantasia can provide will likely be dead on arrival.” "Is magic ability proportional to divergent thinking capacity?" Rem asked. She nodded. "We are fuck," Rem lamented. That pretty much meant that everyone with ten years in modern education was a magical punching bag. Satholia raised her second fingers. "Finally: the logistic. I couldn’t take the battlefield personally, and you are my first recruit. Right now, we have almost no war potential on the board. Moreover, knowing those greed-ridden idiots, Phantasia would likely move against Earth the moment they believe it is profitable. If that happens, the ensuing war for supremacy will tear everything in half before the World Enemies even arrive.” Satholia clenched her fist. “Seriously, those bastards force me to use my trump card before the battle even began.” "What did you do?" Satholia paused. Her cheek turned slightly redder. "I sacked Mount Olympus." Rem blinked. "You did what?" "I manifested myself as a spirit of vengeance on Mt. Olympus to have an audience with Zeus. Now, don't get optimistic. I can only do that for an hour every millennium, and my power would barely a grain of what it is. That was a once in a lifetime bluff. But they won’t likely misbehave anytime soon, not given the psychological damage I dealt on them.” "You fought the Olympians?" "More like traumatized them," Satholia nodded nostalgically. "It isn’t even hard. Pride is their biggest shortfall. After my visit, those idiots humbled massively, not to mention the property damage. Right now, the entire society of the gods is literally having an identity crisis." “That’s why Ishtar and Athena gave Earth the soft-deal,” Rem said, realizing the truth behind the beauty goddess's behavior and responded with agape. “You are the deterrent.” Satholia’s cheek reddened. “Yes, but it is a bluff; a very costly and excessive bluff. Personally, I prefer not to do that again after the devastation I left on Olympus." Rem wouldn’t shed a tear for the poor gods. Instead, he wanted to know the victory condition. That was the only way he could walk out of this with all his organs. "What deal did you make? I hardly believe you used your once in a thousand-year privilege for something simple?" Satholia turned back toward Rem with fewer tomatoes on her face. "What did I do after punching him in the balls with enough force to break Olympus in half?" Sathalia reminisced about that particular event. "I rope them into a contract with Asgard and Jade Emperor as a mentor for a new world entering Phantasia. The agreement will prevent blatant exploitation, but they are smart enough to find the loopholes. The deal will only buy you six years worth of time to prepare." Satholia pointed at the screen showing a massive monster swallowing up the sun to clarify her point. "Rem, you are my nearest and greatest hope to pull this off. Right now, I suggest you avoid Earth and the gods’ spotlight at all costs. Your mission is to aid Cytortia Tianshang and help her build a faction that could single-handedly save Phantasia itself if the worst-case scenario comes to be." Rem nodded. His eyes filled with a massive amount of doubt but zero hesitation. "Alright," Rem said to his patron."But what is the ability I got to work with?" "[Arrival of Dream]," Satholia said as a warm, pleasant feeling crept up Rem's chest like the comforting aroma of summer. "It's the power to bring dreams into reality. But be warned, prolongs uses will ultimately drain your stamina, and your range is currently limited to your territory. Most important of all, it cannot grant wishes or miracle, only providing a path toward one." Rem felt his body turned weightless as white light gently wrapped over his skin. His mind tugged slowly crept back to reality, but he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay here a bit longer with the first person to ever praise him on anything. That's why Rem Breaker used all his willpower to delay recall and tentatively reached his hand out to thank his ever-so-distant savior. It was the only gesture of gratitude he could manage. With the gentleness of mother love, the goddess nodded and accepted the gesture with understanding eyes. It was a small proof that someone was there for him when he needed the most. It was nothing to be noted, but for Rem, it was all the encouragement he needed. "Tell Scathach to head to the Northern land of the Elves. There you will find a girl who lost her ways. The time has come where she had to pick which destiny she will walk--to be one of our greatest knights or the monster her kind fears she will become. Go and find the Exile Lightning. It's time for her to come out of the forest.” Her face faded away, and with it began the start of this fight. ”Oh, and tell the badger that if Phantasia get invaded, I will force myself down there--the universe be damned! Tell her if that ever happens, the first thing I will do is strangled her for an answer!” With that heartwarming message, the world turns dark.

In such moment of crisis, Rem pitied Luxinna greatly. “Cy, please,” the goddess backed the elf into the corner, Luxinna’s spunk evaporated into the wind. “I don’t want to do this!” Sadly, Cytortia was merciless. She moved in with great momentum and baffling efficiency. “Okay Lux,” Cytortia smiled adorably. “Between this cute dress with frills and this blouse with green-tea pattern which one do you want. Oh, I also have this half-shirt with gold-gliding and bare midriff.” “NOOOO!!! Rem help!!!!” Alas, Rem already shopped for his cloth, left the counter and planted his foot outside the store. “Eh,” Cytortia blinked, distracted for a second. “You’re finished?” “I am finished?” Rem twitched dangerously. “Do you know how many hours my mother played dress up with Jeane? I had to learn how to pick clothes quickly to avoid wasting an eternity in the fitting room?” Cytortia and Luxinna looked at Rem. The boy changed out of the black uniform into a white long-sleeve shirt, deep blue baggy-jeans, and a black-cotton jacket. He also sported a white leather belt. Both of them admitted that aside from the belt, Rem knew how to dress. “Help me then!” Luxinna called out for salvation. “Cy will swallow me whole!” “There, there and there,” Rem pointed to several shelves across the store. “That is my tips. Stay alive until I finish buying the Ice Cream” “Yeah, let go, Lux!” Cytortia started dragging the defeated Luxinna for another fitting session. The scream was haunting. ... Luxinna survived the ordeal, but not intact. She exchanged her black costume for a yellow short-sleeve blouse with a low neckline, a form-fitting jean, and simple leather sandals. A golden streak of the highlight was visible in her hairs. “The neckline suit you,” Rem complimented. “Cy wanted the bare midriff,” Luxinna trembled. “This is the best compromise I can give her.” “Don’t be like that!” the cheerful goddess smiled. “But seriously, Lux, I can’t believe you have a gut to go for a flashy highlight like that.” “Yeah,” Lux said, touching her golden strand. “I don’t want to get associated with pure-charcoal hair right now.” “You changed your name to Latoria to huh,” Rem nodded. “Try to avoid your family that much.” “As I can,” Luxinna pointed at the fountain. “Do you recognize the elf on the fountain?” “Mia Alusto,” Cytortia stated. “One of the most talented elf ever born. She was a Child of Spirit, with powerful affinities in Earth, Ice, Water, Space, and Air. An elf who remains undefeated throughout her life. Legend told her power rivaled the pantheon themselves.” “Yes, and everyone uses her as a measuring stick of how much an elf can accomplish,” Luxinna stated. “She is technically my great, great, grandaunt and the hero of the elves. She had her hand in everything. There is no getting away from her. Mia co-founded libraries, university, and even political factions. Her images and teaching are pretty much everywhere.” “I can’t even walk into the library without throwing up,” Cytortia made a face. “Judging from your tone there are more to her,” Rem said. “Rem, this woman claimed power holds absolute above anything else,” Luxinna said. “She taught that magic is a the universe' gift for the prosperity of its favored children. My father are convinced that the elf is the favored species.” “Or the gods,” Cytortia suggested sarcastically. “Or the demons. Many people use her words as a tool to subjugate other races. Given her race, she was probably talking about the elves. But how many cares about facts when you can twist the text? LinLey sure don’t.” “My father is her staunch believers, you know,” Luxinna mused. “‘All races are worthy, but some are worthier than others.’ He often taught us that, but I can’t bring myself to agree.” The situation was too depressing for their morale. Rem decided that he need to change the mood. “Well, it is good you never listen to her,” he said. “Real-life hero will let you down. Why do you think I believe in the fictional one?” Then Rem frowned. “Now that I think about it, do you forget to buy something? Does anyone want to join me?” “Zu ur right, yano,” said a voice with a weird accent said next to him. “Za forgot sometin, yano.” The trio stared in front of them. The source of the voice materialize. It was... a giant golden Octopus wearing a shade. .... They stared for a solid three seconds. “What is that?” Lux started. “An octopus,” Cytortia answered dumbly. “A very gold and very weird octopus.” “What is an octopus?” asked Luxinna aka Ms. I-spent-my-entire-life-in-a-forest. “An invertebrate water creature the Japanese turn to Sushi,” Rem nodded admiringly. “I can understand why. Given the limited resource available on an island nation, they learn how to make this thing into food. Japan is truly a land of culture aside from that nasty invention call power of friendship.” “We can eat it!?” Luxinna’s eyes turned savage — too savage. “Nyoooooo yano!!!!!” The octopus wailed, flailing its arm in fright. “Ya can’t eat me yano! Boss ill be mad, yano!” “Wait,” Cytortia leaned dangerously close. “You have a boss?” “Yano!” The octopus cheered. “Da Center’s Queen Yano!!!!.” Rem did a spit take. “Satholia sent you here!” The octopus stood up and spat out a card. The trio knew that object well. They each possessed that all too important card. It was the Status ID. “Boss says this ill explains things yano!” ... ZA WAThe Shop-o-pusStr: 10 [E]End: 55,050 [SS]Mag: 300 [C]Wis: 200 [D]Dex: 3 [F] Skill ActiveSlot [C]Manufacturer [S]Storage Bag [C]Analysis [Ex]Magic Ink [A] PassiveImmortality [SSS]Boneless [A]Blessing of Center [Ex] ... Stunned silence defined that nest for ten-seconds. “The Octopus has Status ID,” Luxinna’s mind journeyed to Mar. “What the hell was the value of that endurance,” Cytortia said in disbelief. “Even my master END is not that high.” “Obviously. He is Satholia’s pet,” Rem commented. “Then how is he so weak?” Cytortia replied. “His DEX is 3, F-rank for heaven sakes.” “There must be an explanation,” Luxinna stated blankly. “Maybe Cytortia wrote her explanation behind the card. Eva loves doing that to troll Magnolia.” Cytortia cringed. “Eva has terrible taste in many things.” Cytortia refused to believe such possibilities. “That is why I am sure that-” Rem held up the ID. “There is a message behind the card.” The young goddess fell to her knees, dug her head in her palms and screamed out in frustration. The muffled cries of the goddess’s frustration were audible to everyone. “So pitiful,” Luxinna glanced pitifully at the goddess. “Destiny must hate you so much.” Rem read the letter. ‘Dear My Homies, Hello, I hope you do well. I am trying to help you as much as I oud without the world cracking itself in half. Luckily, I found another way to exploit the world’s coding-error. Although direct aid is not possible, I can still send my pet to help you for a couple more times until the world update a patch. Let lay it out in MMO’s term; Za Wa is all your item store’s menu rolled into one. However, because of the world’s restriction, I can only send him down in his weakened form. Feed him raw material and resource to pump him up to his original capacity. To order him to use his Skills, say ‘By my command! Za Wa uses 'fill-the-blank’. Love, Satholia’ Magnolia and Luxinna stared at the card, totally in awe. “Wow, I can’t believe the goddess of all good in the Universe is this much of a cheater,” the elf’s emotion laid dead. The nature goddess was even deader than the elf. “Of course, she is a cheater,” she said self-deprecatingly. “Look at the collection of losers she’d gathered to save the world.” Rem sat on the floor in thought for a second before sighing. “By my command! Za Wa use Slot!” Rem shouted, causing several passersby looked at him as if he was a crazy street-performer. The Octopus glowed. [Slot Activate! Remus Breaker—3 rolled available!] Za Wa vibrated and spat out three eggshells. One is Yellow, one orange and one red. All three quivered and popped simultaneously. [C-rank: Silver Silhouette Revolver set, D-rank: Blueprint Card [C], E-rank: White Fedora] The slot’s wares shone before of Rem: a silver revolver and three boxes of twenty bullets, a blank orange card, and fashionably white fedora, Ignoring the stares of his companion, Rem put on a fedora and praise the nature. “What happened?” said the stunned Luxinna. “One of Za Wa function is a slot-machine,” Rem said. “A roulette to get something useful for our mission.” Rem showed the goddess the gun. “How do we check this-“ [Allow me,] said a voice in his head, namely Central. [I should have taught you this ability a long time ago and please check your status card after this too] Information flashed into his head. … Silver Silhouette Rank: C Ability: Handling Improvement [D]Anti-Jamming [A]Mana Ignition [B] Origin: Satholia’s Original Info: Silver Silhouette was a six-barrel revolver, handcrafted by Satholia as part of her hobbies. It boasted a 1st generation Mana Ignition system she invented, charging mana from the atmosphere and igniting it to create propulsion force stronger than gunpowder. As a sign of admiration for its craftsmanship, the exalted one had modified the design of Ruger Redhawk as a base for this weapon, featuring supernaturally Anti-jamming and handling improvement.] Anti-mage shell Rank: D Ability:Magic Spiral [B] Origin: Satholia’s Original Info: A set of 0.44 Magnum bullet designed by Satholia to counter Magic user. Satholia herself devised this invention as part of hobbies. The bullet’s groves and material contained a unique microstructure that created a Mana spiral once the special powder in the ammunition ignites. Once fire the Magic Spiral act like a magical armor piercing round for magic and solid object. Use with caution. Fedora Rank: [N/A] Info: A simple fedora — Duh … Luxinna looked at Rem’s roll wide-eye. “This look fun,” she grinned. “Let me try this too. By my Command! Zawa use Slot.” Za Wa vibrated and got to work. Three eggs with the color of violet, Green, and Blue spat out from the Octopus. Rem nearly puked when he saw the result. [S-rank: Mayaa Teardrop, A-rank: Starlight Core, B-rank: Tag of World Spirit’s Blessing] It often said that some people were born lucky. Luxinna was a case-study. … Mayaa Teardrop Rank: S Origin: Nature Miracles Info: Material necessary for a weapon to gain sentience. Rare. Starlight Core Rank: A Origin: Supreme Magic Gems. Info: A magic gem that formed by condensation of Starlight by a rare species of moss. The energy it gave was a blessing from the cosmos itself. Tag of World Spirit’s Blessing Rank: B Origin: Inverse Side Info: A tag created by the native of the Inverse Side. Capable of granting an object an authority over the aspect of Mana itself. The potency and characteristics of the authority are proportional to the rarity of the object. … “God rolls,” Rem nearly collapsed on his knees. “How could anyone get this lucky?” Luxinna, picking up several treasures that will make kingdoms bled themselves dry, turned back and sheepishly pull out her tongue. “You might not know this, but I never lost a gamble,” Luxinna pridefully declared before glancing at the sky melancholically. “The only time my luck fails me was when I got lightning for my magic.” Rem nodded, but behind the elf, Cytortia disagreed. Luxinna batted a jackpot with lightning. What was the odds of being born with such powerful abilities in the race that could exploit it to its very fullest? The goddess frowned. Now that she thought about it. Luxinna’s luck was absurd. Anyone stuck in a forest with a World Enemy would be dead, but Luxinna not only made it because they was there, she got recruit it into a secret organization as its prodigious founding members, taught a Ferrari of supernatural power and mentored in combat by Scathach. All those absurd benefits at the price tag of zero. How could someone get that lucky? The goddess stepped forward. For once in years, she felt hopeful. Slot-machine couldn’t be that hard, right? Cytortia grinned excitedly. “By my command! Zawa use Slot!” Za Wa glowed mightily and unleashed the catastrophe that would terrify any men and women, no matter how brave they were. 2 Red eggs and an Orange one flew to the air and smashed down like the stock market in crisis. [F-rank: Chewing Gum, F-rank: Participation Trophy, D-rank: Weid plant.] The result even bled a drop of pity from Rem’s famine infested heart. … Chewing Gum Rank: F Info: We are sorry, but this is what you get. Cheer up! There will be a next time. The next one was equally despairing. Participation Trophy Rank: F Info: Don’t give up. You did well! Hang in there, and you will leap over the rainbow one day. Weird Plant Rank: D Origin: $%@K Info: A weird plant from XXXXX; treat with caution. Some rumor said the plant is haunted … Cytortia looked at her rolls in strange, wide eyes. Her brain tried but failed to deny the reality right in front of her. “Hey Rem,” the girl stuttered. “The rolled is good, right? There is a hidden stat, right?” Rem and Luxinna shook their head as reality rained. The roll was so junk that even whaling couldn’t save Cytortia’s fortune. The world was a cruel, unstable mess, but something remained constant. People die when they are killed. Characters with no vulnerability is unrelatable. Sunscreen is good for your health. Warframe is god’s gift to this sinful Earth. Money couldn’t buy luck. The curtain fell as the goddess’s scream of despair echoed sky-ward. ... Rem BreakerPaladin (class upgrade)StatStr: 145 [E]End: 218 [D]Mag: 308 [C]Wis: 488 [C]Dex: 199 [D] Skill Active Arrival of Dream [N/A]Calm mind [A]Simplicity Blade [C]Supercharge [A] (convert from Magic Charge [B])Knife Throwing [D]Analysis [B] (new) PassiveTerritory [E]Reality Breaker [Ex]The Way of Optimism [N/A]

It was another day for Horizon Dawn. The Black Mercy kicked up a dust cloud as it strode through the grassland. The sun shone happily, and the breeze was cheerful. All seemed well for this journey. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Or not. It appeared a crisis had arrived. ... In the training gym, Luxinna flew backward, slamming into the wall with a comical smack. Her opponent, Rem, fell to his knee with electricity running painfully down his nerve and dropped a flashlight from his twitching hand. “Owww,” Luxinna groaned, prying herself off the wall. “You cheater! I would win if you don’t shine that light into my eyes.” “Lux, you cheat the moment you were born,” Rem smirked emotionlessly. “Just give this puny human some slack, Ms. high and mighty elf. It is just a tiny flashlight. You can surely deal with this, right Lux?” Luxinna gritted her teeth. Flashlight? Did that bastard realize how sensitive her eyes were? Long story short, he knew. Then both of them heard the scream. “Did she discover a roach in the bathroom?” Lux wondered out loud. “This is bad,” Rem gritted his teeth. “I try not to speculate about that problem, but it appears my worst fear has come true.” ... In her room, Scathach was maintaining her weapon. On the white cloth in front of her, myriad arrays of throwing knives and blades laid ceremoniously. The brown hair woman fondly whetted an intricately carved Katana. She performed the act with Zen-like cyclical motion. It was a sacred ritual to rid the impurity, stain, and rust from the pristine blade. Then she heard the scream. The wail so loud and horrifying it wrecked her Zen. The brunette hair woman frown. “Did that idiot find the cockroach beneath the cupboard again?” Scathach sighed. “Kid these days.” … Cytortia looked at the opened cupboard. Her face twisted by fear as the cold and cruel truth registered. She faced no cockroach. No, what her present enemy could kill their organization in a way no roach could. This was a grave crisis that threatened to cripple their foundation at its core. The cupboard only contained one bag of flour, a few apples and nothing else. “No,” Cytortia fell on her behind. “Our supplies… they are all gone.” The goddess’s brain did a mental calculation on how long they would last on emergency ration. The flavor of said ration and their remaining stock killed her faith instantly. She let out another moanful wail. ... “WHAT!!!” The brown-hair woman, namely Scathach, shrieked. Her remaining Zen rocketed right into a mental sun. “How did we ran out of supplies? We bought at least two-months worth of rations.” Luxinna’s eyes rolled into her head as the prospect of fasting sprinted into her mind like the harbinger of the apocalypse. She slumped onto the carpet, out for the count. “Is it that surprising?” Rem resigned to his fate with calm of a blissful koi. His eyes were serene and relax, like the meditating monk. “You originally prepared the ration for two people, right? Now we have four. One of which is the avatar of gluttony, who selfishly faints as we face this massive starvation crisis. I am not even counting the feast Cy cooked in Lightwell. Given the amount of food Lux consumed, I expect we should buy at least ration a five-months ration for a dozen people.” Cytortia cried a river, grabbed Rem by the collar and shook him like a rag-doll. “If we bought food like that, we will go broke!” Beside Rem, Lux’s stomach growled “Yes,” like a storm coming after the calm, Rem’s eyes sparkled into a searchlight. He prided Cytortia’s hand from his collar and rose to meet the disaster. “That’s right!” Rem shouted. “Money! No one can save the world solely on hope and dream. We need resources. Given that we are acting as a secret organization, our account and asset must also be untraceable!” Rem slammed a paper-roll and spread it out on the table. It read:1) Fund/Asset2) Liability/Expenses3) Comparison “Smart men do not work for money!” Rem’s eyes glowed with an intensity of thousand suns. “We make our money work for us! Right here and now listed all our sources of funding. It is time to manage our cashflow.” Luxinna’s stomach growled. “Well, this should be easy,” Cytortia said as she listed. “We have utility and food expense. As for asset...” Silence. “We have the van,” Scathach suggested. “It is capital which does not generate any income,” Rem said. “And its value goes down every year.” “Income generating asset, right?” Cytortia’s cheerful smile froze. “Scathach do we have...” “No.” “Right,” the goddess’ smile quivered. “Rem, what do you call when someone liability trumps their asset?” Another stomach growled from the elf. “Bankrupt,” Rem replied jadedly. The goddess’s head slammed onto the table. “So we are broke, aren’t we?” Cytortia’s empty eyes welled with tears. “So hungry...” the elf’s stomach growling one more time. ... After thirty minutes of planning, the gang finally cobbled a workable plan using the resources they got. Luxinna and Rem dressed in a similar uniform; a black gi with several pouches and belts. Cytortia came out of the Black Mercy, dressed in a tank-top and dark green short. Scathach, in her human-form, began setting up the equipment. A bucket, a furnace, and a Buchner funnel. Most importantly of all: baits made of dried sardines. The goddess inhaled deeply and went over the plan. “Okays team, our goal is to hunt after the Ravine Earth Snapper. We need it to make a cosmetic pill.” Rem and Lux nodded stalely, much to the goddess’s annoyance. It appeared the newbie human, and the marooned elf didn’t know about the Ravine Earth Snapper. “Scathach, please.” Scathach walked over to the sparkling river-bank frequented by several breeds of grazing animals. The wildlife here resembled the image of Africa’s savanna with animals, which seemed to be a cross between the bull and bison, marching alongside the river bank. Overall, it painted a perfect safaris’ advertisement that would surely net some tourist. Scathach tossed the bait. The bait flew above the pack, and at that moment, a shadow erupted from the earth below. It snapped one of the bull-bison — officially called the Northland Cattle — and dragged the poor thing under before a death cry materialized. Several moments later, the predator exploded from the earth and spat out the meal’s skeleton. The monster resembled dog with a horn of a lamb and flat mouth of the crocodile. It roared, sending the alarmed herd into a disorganised, panicked stampede before diving back underground. Luxinna’s mouth twitched. “That...” Cytortia said sadly. “... is the Ravine Earth Snapper.” Rem walked back toward the Black Mercy. “I will eat the Emergency Ration,” the boy spoke neutrally. “Just give me a lot of salt.” Before he successfully retreated, Scathach spoke. “We ran out of salt.” Rem gazed over the mountain in a gesture of mourning. “Seriously,” Luxinna gave Cytortia an incredulous looked. “You made medicine from that thing? What the hell are you Alchemist thinking?” Cytortia slammed her hand on the table and started venting. “Don’t look at me like that,” Cy ranted. “It’s not my fault that profiteers were overflowing the market! Do you think I want ingredient prices in the millions, tacky equipments and cooperate lackeys monopolizing the stock?! Look at the material we are working with! Do you think making a pill or concoction is easy!? Do you think the pill that instantly cures poison or elixir that increases stat growth rate is made from radishes? NO! They make those from ingredients grown in the Forbidden Zone. THE. FORBIDDEN. ZONE. AND THOSE GUYS KEEP COMPLAINING ABOUT PRICE HIKE!!” Scathach and Rem backed five steps away from the furious goddess. After this, Horizon Dawn made a new unanimously agreed rule: don’t talk about the pill’s market. “Anyway, the Ravine Earth Snapper is an incredible species,” Cytortia said, calming down marginally. “We can use its bone as a base for cosmetic pills. Its blood also possess revitalizing property once properly purified. The only reason it isn’t hunt to extinction right now is the difficulty in purifying and processing. Only B-rank or above Alchemist can prepare it. And only the S-rank like me can do it on a massive scale.” Scathach bought a blade and stabbed them into the ground. “You two will hunt them.” Rem and Lux sagged. ... Scathach and Cytortia sat near on the foot of the van. In the distance, Luxinna dodged a Snapper’s attack. She landed nimbly and stretched out her arm. A golden gel wrapped around her hand and crystallized into a gauntlet. The Snapper rushed in again, but a punch from Luxinna smashed into the side of its jaw. A discharge of electricity and force shattered its teeth. The Snapper twitched and rolled over. “Fascinating,” Scathach looked admiringly. “So that is True Magic. A system that doesn’t focus on spell-crafting, incantation, rune or internal energy from the Dantian, but personalized energies draw from the user untapped foundation.” “Rem said it is the very definition of who you are,” Cytortia groaned in jealousy. “Why can’t I use mine? I tried last night, and nothing came.” Scathach stayed silent, deep in thought. “Both Luxinna and Rem have no prior usage of Mana,” Scathach said. “You did.” “I know!” Cytortia whined. “Are there any way to access my Mana Core?” “You know what,” Scathach replied in a rare gentle tone. “Calmed down. Do you remember what Rem and Lux told you when they first used their True Magic? It is about world-view. So why don’t you try to contemplate over this.” Cytortia rubbed her hair in frustration, stood up, walked around before finally leaving the area. Scathach looked back to see Rem vaulting over a few Snapper, impaling its eyes out with a well-aimed knife throw. Both Rem and Luxinna were powerful compared to those with their experience. Although she was happy, Scathach couldn’t help but feel disturbed when Luxinna informed her about her True Magic. Rem confirming that suspicion also added to the alarm bell. Luxinna said that in her mental world she obliterated a mountain. Rem hinted that his body-strengthening broke supersonic speed. Both feats were enough to get them half a foot into the S-rank, and these two barely mastered their ability to its fullest yet. Thankfully, two were nowhere near as powerful as they were in their Mana Core. Scathach assumed that both of their power got buffed massively in their own head. But for True Magic to be capable of those feats so early in its development. Scathach shivered. How long until those kids contested A-rank? A year? Maybe two? Why was Satholia so desperate to assemble these kids into a battlefield? ... In the Black Mercy, Cytortia ground a golden-color leaf. She turned the pestle counter-clockwise and added in more solvent. The extracted essence pooled into a well of oil, reflecting her average face. Her world-view? How did a worm peeking at the sky feel? Among the current generation of Phantasia's most famous, she ranked last. Compared to her senior sisters, she was lower than dirt. Even her only friend on that list pitied her. That was her story. The tale of the girl who got on the celebrities’ most famous as relatable walking comedy. She filtered the oil and wiped her tears. Perhaps realities where Cytortia Tianshang never got famous in the first place, she would be happy. At the very least, she wouldn't have eyes of expectation and ridicule watching her humiliation. A blessing existed in anonymity. A boon of not being yard-stick of how much of a joke could a disciple of Nu Wa be — a blessing prematurely taken from an eight-year-old girl. Cytortia began channeling her Mana into the oil. All she wanted was helping a stranger. But selflessly helping and befriending the less fortunate won no glory. The young goddess peered into her Mana. Transparent and colorless. A hue directly correlated to her identity: tasteless and irrelevant. Could such a tinge had any worth? As she studied the stream of energy, her eyes suddenly felt heavy. The girl tried to force them open, but she blinked. Suddenly prying her eyes open again was impossible. Then she felt her consciousness left her body. Truth was relative. Fact saw by one person differed from things seen by others. A worm might be stupidly weak, but any two-cent scientist can tell you that without them humanity would starve. ... The air was calm and sweet. Cytortia founded herself in a grassy plain. Behind her stood a massive tree. Inside the tree sat an orb of glowing emerald fire. "No way," Cytortia barely believed herself. "I did it?” 'You did,' a voice echoed from the glassy plain below her. Cytortia's heart nearly jumped out of her chest. "Satholia?" Cytortia said. "You are here?" ‘Yes,’ replied the voice. ‘Even now, I am under a time-limit, but this is important.' "Wait, you are here to explain my True Magic, aren't you?" 'Partly but have to tell you about the Law Equality. Trust me, you need to know this. This knowledge will either make or break you. Eventually, its existence will leak to the world, and I want you to prepare beforehand. But first off, your magic... let start with one question: do you consider yourself a fighter?' Cytortia spent a fraction of picosecond to ponder that question. "No… just no." Somewhere, in the dimension isolated from cause and effect, Satholia nodded in agreement. 'Absolutely, you couldn't put up an attack spell to save your life. You are psychologically incapable of emitting any killing intent or malice. This means your True Magic contains no offensive function at all.’ Upon hearing that, Cytortia fell to her knees and started drawing circles on the ground. "So it is like that," the young goddess said in semi-meltdown. "I should have known. I am so weak that my Magic is an equivalent of tissue paper, right? Guess my only job would be a walking bait… maybe Tai Hua was right." Satholia gritted her teeth, wishing that she could leave her bloody dimension, and performed the back-breaking maneuver on that weak-willed idiot. But since she couldn't do that, she used the time-tested strategy: motivational speech! 'WAKE UP GIRL!' Cytortia stood up on her feet. 'YA THINK YA MAGIC IS WEAK! WHO DECIDE THAT?! IT'S YOU! JUST LOOK AT REM! HIS MAGIC IS REALITY PETROLEUM AND HOW MANY TIME LUXINA WIN AGAINST HIM? THE LAST I RECALL IT IS 2 WIN AND 3 LOSS, ISN'T IT! THE POWER OF TRUE MAGIC IS HOW YOU USE IT, YOU DOLT! DO YOU KNOW WHY YOUR MAGIC REFUSE TO BE SUMMON?’ "Because I practiced spell-crafting and damage my Mana." Cytortia sagged. "Rem mentioned something about Mana deprivation." ‘FUCK NO!’ Satholia screamed. 'As good as Rem is at guessing, he is not infallible. He doesn't know that nature goddess like you are born with absurd resistance to Mana deprivation. The case that normally applies to other gods won't apply to you!’ Cytortia nodded in surprise as Satholia cleared her throat. 'You see my dear. The name of your True Magic is [Sage Force]. Every True Magic differs. Categorizing them into a fixed base is nearly impossible, but there is still a way to generalize them. Rem's would be an Augmentation-type. Luxinna's Static Glass would be a Creation-type. And your [Sage Force] is Blessing-type — the rarest of all.'

The smell of Ozone followed Luxinna as she stepped out of the smoking diagram. To her annoyance, what greeted her was a goddess hiding behind a weight set and a cookie-munching badger. "Let me be clear," the elf's eyebrows twitched. "I don't want to be used as a lab rat again, buddy." "Rem never complain," Cytortia pointed out, poking out from her impromptu barricade like she was checking for a sniper. "That is because Rem is insane," Luxinna dead-panned. "Anyway, I have something to show you. It will be awesome, trust me." Scathach coughed. "Speaking of Rem," Scathach spoke. "He was not responding." That grabbed their attention. "How long is it now?" Cytortia said worriedly. "Five hours? Six? Luxinna's dive only took about 2 hours." Luxinna was shocked. "What? I was standing for that long?" She checked her leg. "Did my leg develop cramp-resistance or something?" "You did," Scathach nodded. "Cytorta, can you check on Rem?" "You don't have to ask," Cytortia said. "I will get my equipment." Despite the tense atmosphere, the elf didn't panic. Instead, Luxinna strolled toward the cookie-jar and grabbed a handful. For her, any food from Cytortia's kitchen worth all her family's assets. In retrospect, it was a good thing Magnolia inherited her position. The Drakokia would kick the bucket if Luxinna became the head. Proper elf mistress like Magnolia would deny the cookies and claimed it was below her. Ms. Starve-in-the-forest-for-three-years didn't care in the slightest. Food was food. Good food would disappear by the next morning; it needed to be eaten or else. "Don't worry about him guys," Luxinna finished another cookie and washed them down with a carton of milk. "Rem will be okay. He won't go down that easily." ... Rem wasn't okay. That [Desolation] left him barely alive. He should be dead. Hell, he would already die If this place wasn't his Mana Core. Instead, he was stuck with a fate worse than death. Rem's body laid in the deepest part of the trench. Both of his eyes were deep hollow sockets. His skin and scalp were in pieces. Thankfully, there was no blood. Liquids maintaining his body already dried up when he got desiccated into a mummy wrapped in crumpled tissues. And he was missing an arm as a bonus. Yay. Rem couldn't see, hear or feel in that pointless existence as a living corpse. He should not maintain his sanity. Yet, he did. He didn't know how he did it or why he even bother. The only things he could see were images. Images seeped through the white crack in the black sky. Pictures of people getting executed in front of a castle, some of them were children. They cried against the injustice as they were put on a block and beheaded for the crime they didn't commit. He saw a woman getting drag into a prison cell, locked away from her two twins who vanished in the chain toward an unknown fate. Rem saw all of that, and he made a single decision. Those people didn't deserve a glorified executioner to give them hope. Rem could not afford to lay on the ground and gave up. Those people needed to be able to look up into the sky and saw hope. If REM was the avatar of a brutal enforcer of the Center Force, then he just had to prove that the world didn't want an executioner. Life was short and beautiful. People didn't need an absolute police force to tell them what to do or force them to conform to an overlord. They needed a light to guide them, and he would be damned if those kids picked REM as an example. Rem's body might be dead, but his spirit refused to die. Inside the hidden part where the soul might reside, Rem was shoving his True Magic into his body cell. The glowing particle rushed into the dead blood vessel, desperate trying to ignite the fire of life. Strands of light ran up the carcass's artery and sputtered out like a malfunctioning engine. Rem cursed internally. Why wasn't this working? Was his cell so dead it couldn't accept any more power? Now that he thought about it carefully, the very notion he could reverse desiccation with reality filler was downright ridiculous. Sadly, that idea was all he had left. Rem thought deeply. Every time he used his True Magic, it dissipated inside his body like a dust cloud. When he forced it to enter his body cell, it failed. Somehow, his cell rejected the True Magic like it was a foreign substance. The cell membrane refused to absorb his power. There must be some tricks. Central said that this True Magic was a part of him. Why would a part of him reject itself? Oh Rem would nod if he could. He had been forcing [All Creation] into his cell. It was no different from how REM tried to push his ideology onto him. In doing so, his cells rejected his power as a foreign particle. He had to accept it. He must diffuse the power into his body, instead of shoving it in like diesel fuel. Rem didn't know how to do that yet, but he had to try. Another attempt came and failed spectacularly.  Rem gritted his teeth in frustration. Maybe he had been doing this the wrong way. Wait. REM said this was a reality filler. If so, what did it fill?  Rem's eyes widened. He remembered the quote very well: advance science is indistinguishable to Magic. The majority of an atom was empty. Physical interaction was only possible because of the electrostatic repulsion force between electrons. What if the reality filter could fill those spaces. Maybe this wasn't a biology problem but physic. That would explain the link between [All Creation] and [Arrival of Dream]. He did not summon objects. He created them by monkeying with atomic information. In that deep dark ravine, Rem's body glowed brighter than hope itself. ... A thousand meters above Rem, a white-hair man was talking to a woman in the dressed of white fire. The conversation was far from cordial. [You are an abominable jackass,] Central glared at REM disdainfully. [Why won't a fossil like you just go and die already.] REM sneered. "You should be counting yourself lucky that we can't kill each other, or else you would already be under the ravine." Rem turned his back on her and walked away. Central gritted her teeth. Her connection to their shared origin forbade her from punting him in the face. But she had to ask. She couldn't understand this at all. [What did Center Force promise you?] Central said. [I know you before Rem made the deal. You are against helping humanity, and now you are joining our side. It didn't make any sense.] REM laughed. "Wow, you are as slow as those monkeys. But if those savages can discover calculus, then I believe you can understand this." REM's eyes sharpened into thin, derange lines. "I used to feel angry at those humans. They flaunt that their progress but yet didn't learn from the damned history. So I said why not; Let them drowned in their entertainment and congratulate their ignorance! It makes mocking the poor chimp when karma cash-in so much more satisfying. if the lemmings are content to dive into their self-destruction, why don't we give them a push?" REM kicked the sand playfully. "But Rem? He still cares. When a parent disciplines a kid, most of them want the kid to learn and be a better person. Rem is that kind of fool. Our late martyr would spank humanity for their screw-ups before fixing their mess. It's his way of showing his faith that we can change." Rem lifted Central by her shin to meet his gaze. Disdain was the perfect word to describe those eyes, and it scared her. "Center Force showed me that we are both dead wrong," REM announced to Central. "Humanity neither deserves to be reprimanded or encouraged to die. The entire race needs to be cordoned inside a dungeon to suffer for all eternity." "You have an incredibly bad taste," spoke a familiar voice as a wind roared with cold momentum. "One thing for me to correct, I suppose." The air chilled, and a tower of crimson petals rose from the ravine. The wave of air sent those two stumbling back as the nutty scent of poppies roared back to life. The pure shock would be an understatement to describe the turmoil. [Impossible,] Central's mouth hung open. "It can't be," REM frothed in disbelief. It shouldn't be possible. Even if Rem was alive, [Desolator Bade] should have turned that joke into a broken husk. There should be no way in the world, real or mental, for him to return. That was the moment Rem flew from the bottom of the ravine. His shirt and pants shredded, his left arm was missing, his left eye shut tight. He landed, not like a monster out for blood, but a dignify well-crafted weapon. Scars decorated the skin of his body, and his left leg was wobbling. The fact he was standing was a massive insult to the concept of death. REM responded by summoning his weapon and went to town. "DIE!" REM screamed, waving the [Desolator Blade] and unleashing a tsunami of sand. "You freak of nature!" Rem, with utter resignation, sprinted. It was no mere dash. His footsteps unleashed a sonic boom, carrying him away from REM's attack. He skidded across the sandy ground, weaving around towers of desiccating sand faster than it could hit him. The beaten body repositioned itself after an artful movement. Rem's foot grounded the floor, launching himself forward at Hypersonic speed. He flew like a sparrow, letting his momentum carried him like a rocket. The young man was clocking in at 6150 Kilometer per hour. It was a speed that should not be possible for mere human output. But impossible was coming, unstoppable to the tsunami of sand and barrages of the abrasive tendril slamming from above. REM rode up a wave of sand, unleashing more and more jet of attack. He sweated desperately. His eyes were wide with disbelief and pure primal terror. Deep in his heart, the possibility of defeat finally took shape. Questions filled his head with each desperate attacks he poured out. How did he survive?  What was that speed?  Why did this happen? Those questions filled REM with madness. He slammed [Desolator Blade] in the ground in the brink of his fit. The circle of the desert beneath him exploded, blasting Rem and Central up into the air. Central stabilized herself and started floating gracefully. As usual, Rem was not so lucky. The explosion of sand sent him crashing into the ground like a meteor. REM madly burst into laughter. He stood in the vortex of dusty wind, mustering an army of abrasive sand-blades and sending them all down on Rem. In return, Rem lifted both of his hands and smashed into the ground. His strength cracked the earth as he lifted the two pieces of the floor as an impromptu shield. The wave of sand crashed against the improvise shelter, and the explosion that followed sent Rem skidding across the battlefield. The young ma wiped blood trickled down his face. His defeatless eyes sent a shiver of doubt down REM's spine. The white-hair cynic couldn't comprehend this. The unknown powers, the inability to gave up and, the raw persistence; this was inhumane. "Why?" REM said in a vain attempt to hide away his mental breakdown. '"you know this is useless! The gap between us is--" "That gap is non-existence," Rem tensed his muscle, preparing for a jump. "Don't you see. We are a reflection of each other's extreme. And that is why you will lose: no one wants you." Rem leaped, but he misjudged his strength. Instead of tackling REM into the ground, he overshot and crashed back down into the ground hard enough to leave a crater. Central and REM looked at the epic failure in disbelief. "You must be so embarrassed with yourself," REM smirked. "That just there was an epic..." A high-velocity rock was flung into REM's face before he could finish. Rem replied with a blush of sand that easily block the stone. However, the pebble exploded on contact and knocked him off the sand vortex. That opening started the fight's end game. A supersonic object rushed toward REM before he could land. That objected reached out with its right hand and grabbed REM by the collar of his suit. REM knew he wouldn't like what was coming the moment he felt the tug. REM felt his body went weightless as he was lifted like a pillow and smashed into the ground with enough force to create a crater. He felt a man sitting on his abdomen, pinning his body to the ground. And those punches, so many punches, REM desperately enhanced his body with his power to tank the blow. It was no use. The discrepancy between thier strength was too large. After watching how the battered knuckle crippled his teeth, REM finally deduced the secret of his opponent's inhuman strength, speed, and that darn exploding rock. "You filled your Tu Macik into your chell," REM's words garbled from his broken teeth. "Finally, you get smarter," Rem replied, lifting REM's arm and crushed it in half a dozen places. "You might have access to all our True Magic can offer. But all you did with [All Creation] is summoned a single sword and spammed it at me. What do you think this is? Checker?" 'Wut how?' REM threw the question out. "Atom is mostly empty," Rem wrecked REM's other arm. "I just assume a miracle reality filler can fill that space up. It doesn't know what happens to an organic substance that got boost down to a subatomic level. But I believe it would correlate with my inspiration." REM gritted his broken teeth. That bastard charged organic structure, like how Superman's cell absorbed yellow sun radiation. [All Creation: Divinity] improved on the very concept of his physical parameter to a superhuman-level. He probably used a variation of this trick to explode the rack. What madness? How could be defeated by such a ridiculous Skill? REM conjured another [Desolator Blade] into his teeth. With it, he called upon a massive sandstorm, sending Rem flying away from him. The wind rose into the sky, forming into another [Desolation]. Rem landed facing the twister-blade and nodded in resignation, his cell charged with power. He had to get past the tornado. Running on the opposite direction of the spin sounded cool, but too bonkers. He had to enter the 'eye' of the storm, but how? That was the moment the inspiration hit. Rem smiled thinly. A proverb once said two head is better than one. The flying Central suddenly grew very afraid of that Hyena's gaze. ... Sand swirled around him like a gullet of a beast. REM climbed from the ground. Two of his limbs hung useless and broken. He had to wipe that fool out. It should be simple, spread the storm out, and ground everything touching the arid twister to dust. The only thing he had to do was getting the [Desolator Blade] and activating the command. But before he could move an inch, a shadow fell over him. There was no wind in the eye of the storm, and that was why REM could fully see his defeat. The tattered man wearing rag was being carried by a girl in the dress of white fire. The duo flew at him with the speed of sound. REM could barely react as his mind assembled the pieces. That bastard had Central carried him above the twister and into the center of the storm. That was REM's last thought as a Mach 5 punch connected to his face, and the world faded to white. ... In the Black Mercy, Rem's eyes opened up. "Geez," he looked at the night sky above the windowsill. "That was sure a waste of time." He dozed off, with a tiny frown on his face.

Phantasia used to suck—dictators on the left, warlords on the right, rabid monsters from behind and let not forget the gods who had the average maturity of a rebellious teenager. It sucked so badly the Liberator once considered supporting a rabid rebellion of Tai Hua Tianshang. But that is another story involving internet trolls, multiple raids, a world-war, and an Italian hit song. Instead, this report will feature the Horizon Dawn. They have held many names before the fateful Day of Miracle — Knights of Charity, The Savior, They-who-shall-not-be-named, The Plague, The Black Blight. But let's be honest here, we all know what people called them. The Guardians of Peace and Justice. In this world of chaos, the greatest band of heroes the multiverse had ever known came to be when a boy finally got sick of one beauty goddess's speeches. That day, Ishtar screwed up more than she realized. … The sky was gentle and cloudless during that promised day, but that didn’t mean it was peaceful. 'Hello, beautiful people of Earth,' said the disembodied voice of a woman in the sky. The voice was sweet and light, like nectar from heaven. It was an enchanting sound until people started thinking about the duplicitous nature of those who loved using flowery speech. Suddenly, that voice became downright foreboding. It might be paranoia, but the sixteen-year-old boy sitting under that blue sky knew better. The surrounding canyon was as empty as his lifeless eyes. The world crushed those eyes far too early. Now only dimmed life of loathing kept it alive. Tired, he got up and considered flipping the bird at the god above to get himself smote. Ah... he could almost taste the sweet release of death. But no, if he died, no one would remain to torment his cousin. Suddenly, he heard a footstep. He turned back to look at the newcomer and groaned. “Ah geez,” the boy said. “You again.” The boy was facing a mirror image who effortlessly passed as a much chirpier thirteen year's old version of himself. Unlike the older version, the younger one was smiling insidiously. “Come on,” the younger self said. “Try to do something. You are in the middle of nowhere of another world with only teddy-bear pajamas and nothing else. Any other fictional protagonist in our situation would be wholly screwed.” The boy wasn't amused. “Sorry, I don’t read trash,” The boy replied sarcastically. “Who do you think I am? CNN? There is nothing we can do in this situation unless someone sane finds us. Shame I am missing the internet. This would be an excellent time to re-watch Superman: The Movie or Independence Day. Geez, People these days have no taste in movies.” “You know you are an offense to humanity just by existing,” the younger self said. “Some of them might be crying right now? But you never care, do you? Oh, great Rem Breaker.” “Do I have to care about a race genetically ingrained with stupidity?” Rem retorted. “You’ve seen my cousin, right? The world, especially the loudest part, are a bunch of imbeciles.” That was the moment the embodiment of annoyance returned. 'To everyone on Earth. Welcome... what?! They are panicking! Come on! Grow a pair! You stupid piece of... what the hell? American's president is threatening nuclear escalation?! You must be kidding me! Stop this at once! I order you to stop! Athena! Get Lord Zeus to do the lightning run! Those stupid mortals refuse to listen!' The voice of the irritating goddess yelled childishly in the sky. Rem smugly smiled at his younger self as a declaration of victory.  “Fine,” the younger Rem gave him a stink-eye. “You’ve got the point. The world is full of idiots.” 'The moon…' A much-subdued, much more godly voice echoed in the sky. The implication was crystal clear. Obedience returned in an instant. Then a statement followed with a grinding of teeth. The irritating goddess entered a fit. 'In my glorious name, I won’t stand for this digression. By my authority, I order you stupid fucking mortals to stop the fucking riots, disarm your stupid nukes and listen to me. I am the fucking Ishtar! You either listen to me, or I will force you into ten years of labor building my monument!' "Poor goddess," Rem said, throwing the idiot in the sky bundle imaginary flowers in a mix of annoyance and sympathy. "Human barely unite most of the time. She should just quit and retire to grow potatoes. Or maybe radish, given that  the market is prospering this quarter..” “They are not that stupid,” the younger self tried to invoke wisdom. “Isn’t the world more united and accepting than ever? It is just a vocal minority that created the problem. The rest of humanity is fine!” "Oh please, " Rem replied, his fury engulfed the psychological void. "Sure, we learn something, but don’t pretend we are good and comfy. You are ignoring a solid problem. Do you even ask yourself that maybe that vocal minority might have a point? Hell, maybe you are just deluding yourself into thinking they are the minority. How is shutting up all dissent and covering it up with your rainbow-color dandy world an act of unity? Do you even know what is justice anymore?” “It is the pursuit of the right thing!” “It is the pursuit of truth,” Rem retorted. “So that both sides are held accountable for their actions. Justice is not a tool to enforce your stupid world-view. It is for enforcing fairness.” The two Rem Breaker glared at each other. "Let agree to disagree," the younger Rem said. “Let keep it that way.” That was the moment the goddess got her fit sorted. ‘Finally! Did the Nikes get every one of those idiots in North Korea under control yet? Good! Let me begin again. Welcome to the plane of the limitless world, my beloved Earthling. Your planet has reached the required history and civilization to surpass the Causalty limit and merge with Phantasia. Welcome Humanity! For now, magic walks among you!!’ Rem was unamused. In one debate, a goddess just conquered North Korea and maybe the USA before announcing it in the most murder-inducing way possible. Who thought this was a functioning idea? "Humanity calling goddess," Rem deadpanned. "Humanity wants a refund." It didn't take six minutes for the metaphorical ax to fall. 'Eh, what do you mean that another riot started in Rome?!' The goddess hilariously screamed horrifically. 'What do you even mean when every nation on Earth just declares a martial... wait! Where are you dragging me?! I demand explanation Artemis!!! Who is this Tumblr you are talking about!? Hey!!' Flat line followed... good luck goddess. “Wow, do you have [Clairvoyance (Ex)] or something,” the tiny Rem couldn’t help but feel impressed. “You are spot on about the refund.” "Not really," Rem said dismissively. "This just reminded me of that time." Rem referred to the time his class got hit by a disaster during the field trip. That disaster was an earthquake followed by a quick landslide. By some miracle, the students regrouped after the initial catastrophe in a brief act of unity. However, the moment the hormone-addled teenager knew they were alone with no supervision, any existing alliance fell into a puddle of death, and in its place rose the Lord of the Flies. An unsupervised power struggle broke out between Claire, the school council president, and Cassidy the bully over the mantle of leadership. The tension finally snapped when Justin, the school council vice-president and the resident doormat, got knocked out by an Aluminium Bento to the head. Three minutes later, the entire school body started a holy war over the unconscious body of the crucified Justin. It was sadly fascinating to see how fifteen minutes all-out brawl between two groups of bored teenagers generated so much collateral damage. Someone even set the forest on fire for more injuries and special effects.  'How did the fire get started again?' "Jeane set the forest on fire." Rem replied in shame, remembering the critical mistake of using sarcasm on his cousin. The girl had apocalyptical common sense and legendary awful taste in men. Then the voice as cold as brick rang from the sky. 'Hello, everyone.’ It was no wonder Rem felt the absolute control from the voice the moment it interrupted goddess of cringe. This goddess’s sound like a sophisticated concrete sculpture. Her voice was as graceful as it was hard and uncaring.  'Ishtar needs a timeout. I am Athena. Soon you will receive your Status ID. It will serve as your proof of identification and the record of your ability. Don't worry about losing it because it can be summoned back with a word. Now, there are some of you who got lost during the world merge and find yourself deposited elsewhere. Stay put. Personnel was sent to guide you to the awakening. Good luck and welcome.' "Guess I am one of the lost ones," Rem sighed, looking around in the middle of the nondescript sand. 'Yep you are, but you know what's the most disappointing thing about you.' “Tell me. I already got used to being a disappointment.” 'Remember that forest?' The boy said amusingly. 'You could have done something.' Rem's eyes widened. He finally realized what he was talking to, and it scared him. 'Claire knew you won't hesitate to punch her. You never care about her title, do you? Cassidy? He is still too afraid to even look at you after you forced him to swallow the dirt, literally. And Justin would rather jump over the cliff rather than talk over the great and terrible Rem Breaker. You could walk in there, freed Justin, punched Claire in the face and ordered Cassidy to stop. You could have solved everything if you tried.' Rem glared at the boy who was showing him a card. It was a silver card with white etching; glowing with divine moonlight. “But you ignored everything, and went into a forest to hide,” the boy threw the card at Rem. “You were the only one who emerged unscathed. Guess even you are like those cowardly humans, Remus.” Rem caught the shining card. It was real; tangible in defiance of the law of insanity. The ID's surface was silky and starry. Rem felt like he was holding a piece of the universe mystery in his hand. "What are you?" Rem looked back at the boy and found nothing. The boy vanished liked he was a random figment of the imagination. That disappearance left Rem Breaker alone and friendless like he always was. He looked at the card. ... Remus Breaker Stat Str: 30 [E] End: 29 [E] Mag: 38 [E] Wis: 101 [E] Dex: 35 [E] Skill Active Arrival of Dream [N/A] Passive Reality Breaker [Ex] The Way of Optimism [N/A] … That was when it happened. That day many things could go horribly. It might rain, or the bike might move a bit too much to the left. Another team might have founded Rem Breaker and ended the dream before it began. But none of those happened; fate and the universe tipped the dominos to start the end of that world where only the strong could triumph. That coincidence was why that bike dropped from the sky and crashed next to Rem Breaker. Crash! The impact was loud and large, to no-one's surprise. A plume of dust erupted like an explosion had gone off, knocking Rem off his feet. The boy got up a moment later, shielding his eyes from the irritating particles. In front of him was a massive crater. Rem peered over the edge of the hole. In the wake of that disastrous landing, the bike laid, buried under the sand. Despite the brush with death, Rem was calm. In his view, once you thought about life hard enough, the prospect of getting crushed by a falling bike ceased to be as terrifying as its sound. Either way, Rem would be sent up to spend an afterlife chilling with Michael Jackson or, assuming that the atheist was right, he would face vast unexciting void free from the pain of any kind, including but not limited to boredom. Against such an inhuman response to the concept of oblivion, one voice resounded. It was not fearless nor brave, but shrilly like a girl's scream. No, in every sense of the word, it was not only a girly scream but a girly scream to epitomize all girly screams. "I am going to die!" said a tied-up blonde-hair girl on the bike. "Shut the hell up, useless goddess!" A furry animal dropped from the bike's driver seat. Much to Rem's surprise, it was a talking honey badger with a strangely clean bark-color fur. Rem groaned internally. Goddess existed, so he guessed talking animal was par on course. "If Athena didn't force me, I wouldn't even be here. Just because you are Artio's niece and the snake goddess's student doesn't mean you can act like a spoiled brat in front of me." "Shut up, honey badger," the girl yelled in panic, unsurprising, given she just risked her life and limbs a minute prior. "I will tell aunt Artio about this. Master and grandma Gaia will know about it too." The badger pulled a plastic ball out of nowhere and forced it into the girl's mouth. Then she took out a large, black and unforgiving high-carbon steel frying pan. Rem witnessed the tragedy. Another piece of him died that day. The boy tucked away his Status ID and stood up. He had no internet, no connection, and no cloth aside from his pajamas. Common sense was dead and won't be returning no matter what he did. The only thing he could do is see where the strangeness led him in this bizarre water rapid.  "Excuses me, sir," he bowed at the duo while trying to look, sound, and felt as dead-to-the-world as much as possible. "Where can I find the information booth in this canyon?" .... That was the beginning of Horizon Dawn. The crossing between the boy and the goddess that would bring forth the heroic legend, discoveries and internet terrorism the like Phantasia had ever seen. 

Satholia’s voice continued to echo. ‘True Magic shaped itself by your world-view, but it is your heart which makes True Magic miraculous.’ Behind Cytortia, the tree sealing away the ethereal green light glow as its trunk unfurled itself. ‘Cytortia, of all True Magic, Blessing-type belong to purest most compassionate heart. Learn this, my dear. All power is equal, the difference lies at its properties. Your True Magic is no tool to boast your might. Summon her for malice, and she won’t answer. Use her to heal and create, and she will bring forth power unlike any.’ The green light shone like a second sun. Illuminating the words of the personification of good herself. ‘The races in Phantasia is also equal. As deities born above mortal, a burden curses the gods. In time, you must find the strength unimaginable for your species and destroy this shackle binding your potential.’ The green light intensified, overlapping with the entire mental world. Satholia’s voice faded as she left behind one last message. ‘Among the gods, I believe a humble soul such as yours will be the first to reach the Maya. God speed my dear.’ ... Luxinna threw a body of the crocodile monster onto the pile of bodies. So far they had fifteen Snapper lining up for Cytortia to refined. The hunt was a success. Luxinna stretched, fighting for hours boded poorly for her back. Then she watched in surprise as her comrade arrived. She couldn’t believe what she saw. Rem trudged forward and dumped another Earth Snapper onto the pile before exhaustedly slumped. The boy’s clothing looked tattered, traces of blood and claw marks were visible on the dirty cotton. He had no visible injuries on him, which were obvious given his healing-factor. However, the limp in his leg suggested a furious battle. “No freaking way,” Luxinna looked at the limping Rem. “How did they hurt you this badly?” No, that was not it. The boy was dead on his feet from the morning. The bag under his eyes, his white-hair, they were signs something was amiss. She refused to believe a guy this cautious carelessly got mauled by a glorified mole. Something weighed him down. “What did you do last night!” Luxinna asked, lending him her shoulder before he tripped. “You were fine this morning!” “Not really,” Rem leaned on the elf’s shoulder, trying to breathe in more oxygen. “I don’t think my recurring nightmare will affect me this badly. The first was okay, but the exhaustion they added up. I assume my condition deteriorate the more time I spend battling.” Luxinna looked at him with a mix of concern and annoyance. “Are you sure you will be fine?” Luxinna said. “It will damn embarrassing if you drop like this.” “I will manage,” Rem replied with an emotionless smile. “How are things going on your end?” Luxinna’s eyes widened, and she smiled cheerfully at the cloud. “Extremely well, I am slowly getting used to my True Magic,” she sounded excited. “At this rate, I will make Mag’s jaw drop to the floor the moment we meet again!” After hearing the statement, Rem looked downcast. His eyes dimmed as he craned his neck to the sky. Luxinna subtly noticed the change in mood, and she couldn’t let it go. “Rem, what’s wrong?” Rem stayed silent. The gear of conflict ground in his mind. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, courage trumped his fear. “I will tell you a story,” Rem said, slumping by the side of the Black Mercy. “It’s a depressing one, to be honest. I guess now is the best chance to get this out of my chest.” “Wow,” Luxinna slouched, leaning his back to the van for support. “What a curve-ball, but go on. No one tell me stories for years.” Then Rem began his story. “Once upon the time, two cousins grew up together, but they wouldn’t be more different. A mother pressured one cousin to be the best in a world he never wants. Another cousin got no attention from the families and grew to seek it any way she can.” Luxinna laughed. “Let me guess, you are the rebel, aren’t you?” “No, I was the one under mother’s thumb,” Rem said. “My cousin, Jeane, and I have the same origin, but we become an anti-thesis to each other.” Rem looked around. “I believe what separated us is the way we took our teaching. My dad often said respect come with lack of vulnerability, while mom taught us we should focus on what is important and nothing else.” Luxinna wiped sideways to avoid directly looking at Rem. “I don’t know why, but I feel the story has a downer ending.” “It ended with a boy who live like dolls and a girl who live like beasts.” “Downer like usual. Maybe some explanation?” Luxinna asked. The girl and metaphors didn’t mix. “That boy lacked motivation,” Rem reminisced. “His mother shoved many things onto his plate; a clarinet lesson he failed, a choir he lip-synced. She pushed him to chase after the friend who stands at the top of the national exam and the bitch who would backstab the world to get to the top. She got only one thing in her mind: herself. Soon her son become a doll who only live to achieve the next goal.” “Wow,” Luxinna snarked. “You got angsty because your mother forced you to study. How rich.” “I’m fine with lessons getting shoved down my throat. But the unrealistic expectation was another story. Our family’s name was the only thing that matters. Ironic, considering family love is an alien concept to her. I am her son, so I don’t get to pick. She believes she meant well. But the Breaker dynasty must rise in the political world. No child of Breaker will become a detective or a novelist.” Rem chuckled. “She gave a ten-years old a bitter piece of reality. The kid gave up and let his life continued like clockwork. He barely knew sadness, but he couldn’t be happy either. He is a doll who perceived one thing his mom never did. Once you die, all your money and titles meant nothing — living like that is a waste of life. His mother can chase heaven and glory, but all the gods will fall someday. What is the point of building something fated to die?” Luxinna remained silent. “Why tell me this?” Luxinna asked. “Are you trying to make my life depressing by telling me all of this?” Rem smiled sadly. “You only heard the first part. The doll developed a moral compass. A hero came and saved him from a spiral of despair. The boy realized although life is a trip material emptiness, that gloomy destination is an illusion. The genuine article is the journey. The path we take define who we are.” Luxinna’s spunk returned with the bittersweet ending of the story. “Nice Aesop, but, again, why are you telling me this?” “A warning,” Rem answered. “Your sister remind me of my younger self, but with one twist, she doesn’t fail.” The last sentence shifted the mood. Luxinna felt Rem just hit her with a hammer. Somewhere in her heart, she knew Rem was spot on. She got her new best friends for only a few days, and his observation always hit the bullseye. “What do you mean Mag is like you!?” Luxinna said. “Seriously, I don’t get it. You two are nothing alike. I knew her from birth, and you are nothing like her.” “Because she meets your father’s expectation,” Rem answered. “My parent eventually realized I never fit the mold and let me be, while your sister flourished in hers.” Rem closed his eyes, recalling how he read Magnolia Drakokia. “Magnolia meet Lucian’s expectation in every way, and in return, he spoiled her with praises. This mean she ends up with a happier life than mine, but unlike me, she never questions herself or finds the ‘why’ in her goal. She only lives for Lucian’s craving. Worse, she is perfectly content in her twisted reality.” Luxinna didn’t know how to respond. “From your tone, I can guess there is a major issue underlying that problem,” Luxinna replied. Rem opened his mouth, but the elf covered it with her left hand. “Enough with the exposition,” she said airily. “Let me work this out by myself.” The young elf relaxed and enjoyed the wind flowing past her refine face. She might miss out on three years of education, but that didn’t mean she got idled. She nodded her head in sync with the wind as she dove deep in thought. For the girl, scent of nature and dance of air was the spell to help her focus — the rhythm of her free spirit. “She’s father puppet, isn’t she?” Luxinna said, extracting the answer from Rem’s story. “No. Too obvious. Mag isn’t only a puppet, she is a puppet who get euphoria from getting her string tug.” “Yep,” Rem nodded. “I always wanted mom’s affection, but because I got none, I came to realize said affection is phony. She only excited at the result, not the effort. My mom and your father is a type who see a painting for its price tag. They don’t see masterstroke, the passion nor the pain expressed by the artist, or the hundreds of prototypes paving the way for such a masterpiece. They never care about value. Only how shiny it is.” Luxinna’s posture sagged a little. “I can’t tell, honestly,” Luxinna looked gloomily into the distance. “Mag is much closer to him than I ever was, even before I awakened. I think I remind him too much of mother.” Rem stayed silent. “You are not the only one with mommy issue,” Lux replied somberly. “The noble houses thrive on arranged marriage. Both of my parents never fell in love, they married out of obligation. My grandparents think tying the two houses together is a marvellous idea.” “Where were they when your father went nut?” “Secluded cultivation,” Luxinna replied angrily. “It’s all to do with that damn cultivation manual. My paternal grandmother left father to take care of the clan and secluded herself for her research with my maternal great-grandfather. The deal was how my mother got betrothed to the Drakokia to seal the alliance.“ “Let me guess,” Rem said. “She left the moment Magnolia was born.” Luxinna laughed bitterly as she slumped down next to Rem. “Yeah, she followed her dream to be a servant of the gods and left us with father,” Luxinna clenched her fist. “You know, thinking about this, I understand I see you a little better. Who would guess a sensitive kitten lies beneath the ice cube?” “We are birds of feathers,” Rem took out a knife and tossed it to Luxinna. “Here, take this.” Luxinna looked at a simple throwing blade. Strangely enough, a single word scribed metal. ‘CLOWN’ “A bet I made with your sister,” Rem said. “Scathach and Cytortia won’t tell you this to avoid hurting you, but she laughed at us for following a fool’s ideal.” “Did she know the fool in question is the strongest goddess in the multiverse?” Luxinna groaned as Rem winked back. “Of course not. Stacking an invisible deck against the challenger is practically your rule-book. So what is the bet?” Rem gave a warm, humane smile for the first time today. “When she is at her lowest, a knight in shining armor she never believes in will swoop in and save the day,” Rem stretched. “And when that knight return that blade to her, let it be known the age of heroes has begun.” “Huh,” Luxinna blinked. “No wonder she accepted the bet. You are anything but a white knight.” Rem let out a chuckled. “If I am the man, I would never show you the blade,” Rem said with a carefree smile. “You who will be a white knight.” “Eh,” Rem caught the elf by surprised. “What?” “You heard me,” Rem said. “One day soon, when your father and little sister inevitably stab their foot with their hair-brain scheme, it will be you who come in to save the day. It will be more symbolic that way.” Rem mused. “A stranger saving a power-hungry asshole, and rising as the epitome of mercy and humanity is a powerful message,” the boy submerged himself in the savanna’s soothing scenery. “But an estranged sister arriving to save her little sister while teaching her there is another way mean much more.” “Mag isn’t that easily inspired,” Luxinna said. “No,” Rem admitted. “But we are not inspiring Magnolia. Eventually, your family will side with Tai Hua’s many, many enemies. Personally, I expect they will go for another Heavenly Daughter. They can’t get Cy, that leaves one manipulative bitch and one immature brat. Either way, conflict will arrive, and Drakokia’s name will get dragged through the mud of evil for the world to see. They will drive themselves to the corner like all soulless power-hungry fools do.” Rem smiled toward Luxinna. “Symbolically, it will be a battle of evil versus evil, but what if a knight in shining armor arrives to end the conflict? A symbol of a genuine valor and empathy. An inspiring figure who stood proudly against all the world evil, throwing down a bolt of lightning to lit the sky as she carries the weight of the entire world from the pit of despair. For the hopeless, that knight would be the guardian angel from heaven; a hero they seek to emulate. But to your family, to the elf, you are the monster they cast out. I don’t know how they will react if the girl they rejected resurface as the symbol of heroism and hope, the world loves and reveres.” Luxinna finished the sentence with a snort. "Grandmother will rip my father apart if that happens,” Luxinna imagined the scene and giggled. "Hell, I bet Lightwell will treat it as a cautionary tale of the generation. Mag's expression will be priceless." "Do we have a deal?" "What deal?" Luxinna imagined her father’s distraught, and it got her pumped. "Eva will kill me if I don't do this. This will be the biggest prank I ever pull on Mag." "I didn't know you are a prankster," Rem said, following the elf into the van. "Well now you know," Luxinna winked back. "Want me to teach you some trick?" Luxinna didn't know this yet, but the elf created a new saying after her debut. 'The ignorant turn a flower into a fool. The great raise an abomination into a hero.'

Melody Solarmaria Daughter and revenge of the late Majesty Solarmaria. An immensely powerful demoness who started a brutal campaign to reclaim the throne of Aztellic Dynasty. The legendary princess of carnage who bathed the Demonic Continent in brutality, blood and fire as she started the largest civil war of the continent ever experienced. Million died in that war. Ambassadors and nobles dragged to the street and slaughtered to sate the upstart princess. This one woman drove the Enma Clan from her nation, closed the border of Demonic Continent, and hung Jekyll Aztellic’s corpse from her gate as an example to her enemies and allies. Years ahead, the juvenile 33 stars gathered to suppress her, costing seven of Phantasia’s best in a disastrous invasion. Tai Hua Tianshang and Grustav Enma had to unite to stand a chance against Melody’s overwhelming skills and synthetic army. The battle ended with the Heavenly Daughter of Steel plunging the sword into the Bloody Melody’s heart, but the war decimated the Seven Continental Alliance and the Iron Army, leaving the Phantasia opened to destruction from the World Enemy. Without a doubt, Melody Solarmaria was the biggest reason Phantasia got utterly bloodied by the World Enemy ten-years ahead. She was the greatest threat on Chuang’s priority list. And here she appeared as a smug girl. Not doused in blood and fire, but a beautiful girl in jean, tank top, and mechanic jacket. Chuang wiped out her bloody nose. Her confusion intensified. Cytortia's behavior was strange enough, but nothing comparable to Melody’s entrance. Why was the largest future dynamite here of all places? “What are you here?” Chuang yelled. “Why do the girl who live to rule the Demonic Continent under an iron fist come to help the Heavenly Daughter of Wood? What kind of mass-destruction weapon the shrimp promised you?” “Nothing,” Melody shrugged. “Now, how the hell did you know my name?” “Stop changing the subject!” the Heavenly Daughter of Fire screamed. “A self-center lunatic like you won’t come here with no benefit? How did you trick Cytortia into helping you destabilize the world!!!?” “You mean my plan for the Demonic Continent?” wind deflated from Melody. “Don’t mind it. It already failed. Rem will kill me if I even start a bakery there. For now, I am learning about leadership and innovation from that guy.” Chuang blinked, so bamboozled she forgot about the battlefield. “You quit.” “Yes,” Melody sighed tiredly. “Too underqualified to lead, single-minded to the point of self-destruction, and don’t even understand the people I am leading. Isn't it strange that I am too lacking to lead?” Chuang’s jaw fell. “You admit your incompetence.” “Yes.” “B-b-but,” Chuang struggled to find the right word. “You are the proudest, most arrogant bitch in the history of the Demonic Continent.” “Arrogance? You fool! I am not so insecure that I refuse to admit a significant flaw in myself!” Melody declared to heaven above and hell below. “Pride is the measure of self-worth. If I am so weak I get bruised by admitting a fault, I have nothing to be proud about! Acceptance of one inferiority? Bullshit! I shall not suffer such a humiliating defeat. I will not wallow in my roadblock because I will triumph over it!” The declaration nearly fell Chuang on the spot. As someone who refused to believe she could be wrong, Chuang never viewed the world with Melody’s perspective. They might have the same affinity. The two might be born with noble blood. However, the difference between them couldn’t be clearer. Melody possessed the shameless pride more elastic than rubbers. She enjoyed being challenge and boosting her ego through self-improvement. Even if she lost repeatedly, her pride would eventually transform into admiration once she saw what the victor could help her accomplish, seeking her to ally with a rival who compensated for her. But Chuang went opposite route. Her pride was sharp but brittle. She basked in praise, but she broke once the obstacle become too huge. Melody saw no shame in lost and identified her weakness as her greatest enemy once she accepted her fault. Meanwhile, superiority complex motivated Chuang entire life. The Heavenly Daughter of Fire wallowed in comparing herself with others. Hence, she found Tai Hua who stood above her unacceptable and feared the rise of the ‘shrimp’ she deemed weak. Cytortia noted those differences while witnessing their battle from Luxinna’s glass-lotus. The Heavenly Daughter of Wood didn’t think back too much of Nu Wa’s teaching, but witnessing stark difference between the two women made her realized her master's weakness as a mentor. Ebony raised her child to respect, emulate, and personalize the strong. Nu Wa fed her student greatest of orthodox and hugbox philosophies. Those differences made Melody into an open-minded person once she set aside her excessive arrogance, and the Heavenly Daughters into an apathic, self-centered radical defined by ignorance.  Chuang yelled, summoning a colossal amount of fire and unleashed it in a vortex. “[Heaven Fire: Burning Wheel]” The torrent of fire washed over Melody. The girl stared straight as the goddess, glowing with power as a shinning visage of dragon’s scale surfaced on her skin. The demoness walked forward fearlessly, strolling past the tunnel of fire like it was the garden of lilies. The Heavenly Daughter of Fire stared dumbfound. How was she doing this? Chuang recalled her memory on Melody. The demoness boasted super-regeneration from [Demonic Blood Cultivation], expertise in uses of flame-base [Sunfire Fist], and holder of the all-powerful [Sky Dragon Bloodline]. At twenty, she discovered, stole and studied multiple cultivation art and demonic technique of the highest grade. The 33 Stars might be the leader of the next generation, but even they faded compared to Melody, who achieved greater fame by her lonesome. No matter how much she crawled in her head, Chuang came up with nothing similar to this. The bone-chilling awe of  the killing machine of doom. The burning serpentine eyes of the apex predator who ruled the natural world unrivaled. Chuang only felt like this once. It was when Nu Wa took her and Tai Hua to a brief trip in the Forbidden Zone. It was the first time she came face-to-face with a pure-blood dragon. The king of the beast that steamrolled A-class at its weakest. It should be impossible. No concentration of [Sky Dragon Bloodline] mutated a person into a real pure-blood dragon. It broke the very rule of Cytology and Genetic. No organism in the world could recreated themselves into another species. Even if one converted a 100% percent of their bloodline to dragon’s blood, they would die from blood rejection. The only option was remaking the body with Dragon’s cell and transferred their consciousness into a new host, but that required years of research, preparation, and raw materials. It was not something that succeeded in seconds. But Chuang knew deep down the impossible was happening, Melody Solarmaria was an equivalent to a dragon. “Here I go,” Melody said, and she sprang. Her leg’s strength, surpassing the STR of 2000, sent her barreling toward Chuang like a bullet. Chuang barely intercepted the attack with a magical barrier. The hit sent a shock-wave, dispelling her fire, but Chuang held on. “[Burning War: Burning Sword Spire],” Chuang roared. A magical circle blinked into the sky, dropping a giant sword made of fire down on the duo. The sword lighted up with sparks and heat as it fell like a guillotine. “[Fire Flicker]”  Chuang disappeared from the danger zone in a flicker of fire. Melody whistled, lifting her perfect leg to kick the 50 meters long sword aiming at her head. … Chuang reappeared a hundred meters from the blast-zone. She stumbled from light-headiness before a gale of force and heat brushed past her, signalling [Burning Sword Spire] collision against Melody. Tonight was the whammy episode of Chuang’s life. The shock she experienced today blared worse than the day she received her future-self memories. One startling discovery came one after another: Cytortia had friends, one friend was an elf of considerable skill, another was Melody fucking Solarmaria with a power that Chuang sure would soon surpass her future self. After tonight,  her advantage of future knowledge was no longer valid. Chuang got up, dusting the speck of charred dirt from herself. She breathed. As much as she hated it, she needed to escape and reassess the situation. She must raise an alarm on Cytortia’s increasing power. The young orange-head wanted to kill herself at the prospect of admitting the crybaby as a threat, but the reality couldn’t be ignored. Cytortia was no longer the weakest 33 Stars. Chuang felt a warm glowed in her back. [Auto Defense: Fire] and [Immolation Robe] kicked up, deflecting the golden glass arrow with the mixture of fiery explosion and high-temperature. But any physics major would tell her she need more than compacted explosives and a 1000°c degree aura to halt a designer projectile at Mach 5. Credit to Chuang, her defenses did alter the projectile’s trajectories. Her End-stat helped her tanked the blast, but the explosion of force and lightning still struck her at point-blank. The lightning launched the girl up 16 meters upward in a quadruple somersault. Chuang’s world spun like she was on a roller coaster, but she still caught the glimpsed of a figure draped in lightning, skipping across the golden lotuses in the sky. The lightning-bolt halted above her, leaning against a shining flowers, gathering power for a lunge. “[Burning War: Infernal Chakram],” Chuang unleashed several rings of fire to stop the lightning-clad girl. However, she was in for an enormous disappointment. Luxinna launched herself from the golden construct. Her sword, [Historia], extended into Halberd. With a technique she learned from Scathach, honed with [Armory Grace], Luxinna crushed each fire-ring with a consecutive wave of her electricity-cladded swipes. Luxinna swept the five rings out of the sky, slipped past the remaining three in a blink, then brought her weapon down on Chaung. The surviving Chakram exploded, painting the sky red as the Exile Lightning and the Heavenly Daughter of Fire collided. The halberd met Chuang’s [Auto Defense: Fire] in a crash that ignited the sky. [Immolation Robe] activated next, but a little spontaneous combustion was no match against Luxinna’s force of will. Chuang rapidly cast several layers of magical barrier with a speed worthy of a Heavenly Daughter, but Luxinna’s attack still sent her slamming into the ground like a falling star. Chuang struck the ground, blasting a cloud of dirt up as her body dug a new crater.  Chuang groaned. Thankfully, she stacked a [Toughness Enhancement] beforehand, but the spell was getting a workout. Chuang barely completed her thought before a three golden arrow of light fell from the sky. “[Heaven Fire: Crimson Maul],” Chuang raised her hand, summoning a flaming plume of fire that swallowed the golden arrows. Chuang got up. That attack was strange. The elves’ previous arrow penetrated her automatic protection like it was nothing. The latest batch was lacking momentum compare to those nightmarish bolts. This meant only one thing. “You cannot fire those arrows consecutively,” Chuang got up and faced the elves who landed on the edge of the crater, looking down on her. “How is the recoil?” Luxinna was thanking her mask. [Overdrive] was clamping down on the pain, but her arm felt too light. [Goddess Origin] was one hell of an inherent skill. Even a goddess untrained in close-combat still possessed enough stat to survive a beating from both her and the flaming cow. [Historia] morphed back into a sword. Luxinna could no longer afford to fight from range if she still wanted to swing her arms. The golden sword in the elves’ hand hummed with power. Chuang twitched. It was the first-time  “That shape-shifting magical sword,” Chuang said, her voice contained a dripping jealousy. “I hang out long enough with that forge-obsess busy-body to know that blade is a masterpiece. The glint. The design. The material. As a craftsman myself, I can tell that weapon is the king amongst masterpiece. Not even the Drakokia had such a weapon. How did you have it? Such a weapon should belong to an emperor or the ancient elder of Lightwell.” No, Chuang thought. What was the most peculiar about that sword is its mysterious aura?  The aura of the sword was resonating with her [Goddess Origin]. Her very existence as the goddess was begging her to run. Chuang clenched her hand. Why? She was a goddess. The strongest race in Phantasia. Chuang glared at the blade. What was so terrifying about that sword that it instinctively wanted her to flee? Then the elves flashed in front of her and slashed. Fire and lightning clashed inside the crater, contesting for supremacy. … Luxinna skidded back, narrowly dodging a fire-Chakram in a limbo-maneuver. She transformed her sword into a spear and stabbed at Chuang. The spear impaled Chuang’s defense. Sparks flew, but it wasn’t enough to penetrate the layer of fortifications Chuang heaped on herself. The Goddess of Fire responded by heaving another massive spell at Luxinna. “[Burning War: Mountain Piercing]” The fire spear dug across the ground, creating 300 meters long scar across the earth. Chuang gritted her teeth and glanced up to see eight lotuses surrounding her from all directions. She also knew very well the elf was already behind her with a thrust of the spear. Chuang growled in frustration. The elves’ dexterity equaled her, but her processing speed was insane. [Input] → [Function] → [Output] Dexterity as stats described the performances for the cycle of Input, Function, and Output performed. In such case, Chuang and Luxinna under [Overdrive] had equaled quantity of Dexterity. The different is Luxinna’s function operated on the other gear of function. In Chuang’s case: [Luxinna’s dodge] → [Re-aim and shoot] → [Fireball launch] In Luxinna’s case: [Fireball launch] → [Calculate Dodging path] ∙ [Create Lotus x 8] ∙ [Plan the Counterattack] ∙ [Overclock her muscle] → [Everything goes] The elf operated under different systems. If the fight was a trading-card game where Chuang could only draw and played a card each turn. Luxinna would be drawing three or more cards and playing all of them as long as she paid the price. In such scenarios, no matter how powerful Chuang’s creature maybe or how many lives she had ahead, she would inevitably lose the moment Luxinna drew the right card. [Hyper Reflex] from Luxinna’s [Serene Glass] armor gave her an unlimited option. [Overdrive] delayed the effect of over-siphoning her Mana, creating an inexhaustible quantity of power. With those two abilities activated, even A-class like Chuang would be hard-pressed in a straight up fight. Chuang had only one path to victory; firing a spell despite the elf’s disruption and overpowered her with her 4000 Mag stats beat stick. Chuang knew the elf couldn’t keep the dance of evasion and counter-play forever. Chuang only needed to outlast Luxinna until she tripped and finished the fight. It was a mistake, but while she was the first, Chuang Tianshang wasn’t the last person to forget the greatest power of Horizon Dawn. The Dawn wasn’t head by a lone knight, but entire an entire league of heroes. Chuang survived the steam of liquid glass and maneuvered Luxinna into a path for a rapid-cast fire-barrage, but the column of fire crashed into her before she closed the battle for good. The goddess fire-proofing was active, but the pressure from the dragon-breath alone was enough to pin her to the crater floors and turned the soil into magma. The elf landed outside the crater. “What took you so long?” “What make you fight inside a crater?” Melody Solarmaria said. “That place was a death ground. Do you think Rem can give you fire support in there?” “It works for your surprise attack.” Melody did not disagree.

Rem's body jerked to the back to life as if he got struck by lightning. "Thank god, you survive! Not bad at all for a mortal," Cytortia breathed a sigh of relief before greeting him with an uneven mixture of excitement and concern. "Stats check time!" The badger leaped up the boy's leg and checked his temperature with a palm of her hand. "Look like everything is fine," Scathach wrapped her hand around Rem's slim neck and started shaking. "Now, show me the card." The glowing card with gossamer texture appeared in Rem's hand. ... Remus Breaker Messenger Stat Str: 70 [E] End: 120 [E] Mag: 135 [E] Wis: 385 [C] Dex: 140 [E] Skill Active Arrival of Dream [N/A] Calm mind [A] Passive Territory [E] Reality Breaker [Ex] The Way of Optimism [N/A] ... "Congratulations, kid. Your power-level break past 800; this means you escape being feed to the crocodiles," Scathach said after short a calculation. "Wait!? A wisdom base Messenger?" Scathach turned silent. Her brain began grinding in an attempt to dissect this information. "Power-level?" Rem questioned the goddess. "It is how we judged someone potential," the exhausted Cytortia handed Rem a cup of water out of concern while avoided looking into his eyes. "It's your battle-power calculated by taking the total sum of your stat. In this case, the value is 850." "850 is pretty good, given that most human has initial power-level ranging between 600-750. Some rare cases will even touch 900," Scathach said, puzzling at the mystery provided by Rem's epithet. "This is bizarre; half of your stat weighted in wisdom, and your class is Messenger." "Wait," Cytortia's eyes-brows burrowed in disbelief and confusion. "Isn't the elves have an entire island dedicated to getting that title? Only someone who receives divine's mission from a high-ranking god can get it, isn't it?" "Yes, but which god could..." "Her name was Satholia, Queen of the Center-force," Rem threw the metaphorical atom bomb into the open. "Who?" Cytortia replied, her eyes turned into a pair of dots from curiosity. Scathach wordlessly arched her arm back, and, to the surprise of everyone, especially Cytortia, she knocked out the clueless goddess with a punch. The young goddess spun like a top and resoundingly fell flat on the ground like a dead horse. "Wow," Rem looked at the unresponsive goddess with an almost unnoticeable hint of concern. "That punch was uncalled. I know she might be a bit childish and arrogant sometimes. But that right hook was way too mean to be used on a kid." Scathach brushed Rem's comment to the wind and wrapped her paw around his neck before shaking him like a tree. "What do you know about that monster!?" "She is the nicest, most upstanding person I've ever met," Rem answered. "Which say a lot about how much everyone else sucks because I only know her only for about five minutes." "Kid, listen to me! That woman is a beast!" "So the honey badger who sock an innocent goddess in the face claims the patron of all good is a beast?" Rem's mouth curled from annoyance. "Okay, as idiotically bias as that sound, I will at least gave you a chance to explain why the closest goddess to benevolence incarnate is secretly the enemy of mankind." "She sacked Olympus," Scathach yelled. "That clusterfuck was so apocalyptical every pantheon is still reeling from the aftermath. We barely manage to maintain Phantasia's power-balance after that monster chainsawed it to piece." "Boo-hoo, poor little Olympian got their ass kick, and I am supposed to be sad," a cold bonfire lited in Rem's gut. He could take the insult aim at him, but today's target was unacceptable. "So the person who scares the vain morons on Olympus and an egotistic badger who plan to make my life hell is a devil? Wow, where do I sign up to be a Satanist and bow to my goddess new order?" "Kid," Scathach looked defeated. Her shoulder slumped, and her leg flopped like a wet Spaghetti. "I was on Olympus when your 'goddess' went to town. Trust me. she is the devil." ... A brown-hair woman in dark red leather jacket and black shredded jean ran across the scorched pavement while building crashed resoundingly around her. Black smoke hung on the air along with the stench of brimstone. It was like an image from the lowest circle of hell. It was unbelievable to think that this disaster-zone was once the paradise capital of the Olympian. The woman, the warrior maid Scathach, turned around and witnessed flashes of blue painted the smog-packed sky azure. Winds from the all-powerful attack ripped her jacket into ribbons of leather and pushed her into the nearby wall. The blue light faded, and a body fell from the sky. Its torso was burnt black, both legs reduced to a burnt stretch of meant. The man's lustrous beard charred away, and his crown of coral was in shards. The azure beam of devastation completely hammered his body and emerald armor into an unshapely wreck. Smashed pieces of metal rained pathetically around him, the remains of his prize trident. Poseidon, the King of the Sea, laid defeated and broken an inch away from death. Scathach almost folded on her knees. Who or what could render the Olympian only second to Zeus into this heart-wrenching state? A second later, she heard the wail of pain. A golden club of adamantine landed next to her and shattered like a ceramics plate. Scathach looked at the broken weapon in disbelief. She was here as a referee for a match between Heracles and Ares. Not that it mattered, the duel got canceled. Someone broke all of Hercules' limb and crucified him at Athena's temple. She looked up and finally saw the devil, the ender of the gods, and their worse fear incarnated. The queen of the Center floated on top of the burning scape. Red inferno highlighted her silhouette. Her gossamer dress shone with bright multicolor arrays, lighting the queen's black-lustrous hair in a majestic glow. Satholia's eyes blazed bright-red and unleashed a volcanic ray of light, torching the nearest temple to the ground. The war god Ares's eyes were blank from a millennium of torture and his right arm was now a cauterized stump. The torching continued, and a scream of pain followed. Scathach gritted her teeth; she knew that scream. Hera, the queen of Heaven, was getting lasered. Scathach always thought rainbows were too hippie to look scary, but she changed her mind. Rainbow was fucking terrifying. The scream went on for a solid five minutes before a silent shadow arrived behind Satholia with the wind. An owl landed from the sky and transformed into a beautiful woman with auburn hair. A golden shield brandishing image of the Gorgon slid into her left, while her right flourished an ivory javelin. "Satholia, isn't it?" The goddess of wisdom, Athena, stood up against an overwhelming force of power before her. "Why are you doing this to Olympus?! What are you trying to gain by crippling my family!!? Answer me!" The usually stoic Athena lost her cool and screamed.  In return, Satholia cut off her heat vision and snapped her finger without bothering to glance back at her challenger. "The World," She called. Athena felt something, someone, flew past her and embedded into the road below in an explosion of dust and brick. When the smoke cleared, a man wearing light armor and winged boots laid buried into the pavement. Fist-shape impressions adorned his body as the evidence of the thousand punches he ate. "How?" Athena looked flabbergasted at brother Hermes who fell defeated in the pool of his blood. "I stop time when your half-brother was about to launch that sneak attack," Satholia said, congratulating at Athena. "It was a nice plan. Faking an outrage as a distraction for Hermes to slap a teleporter to move me to Tartarus. It wouldn't work, but I will give a solid 85/100 for effort and creativity." Satholia stopped smiling. "Now if only you applied that intelligence to solve the food distribution problems rather than, well, I don't know. Maybe challenging a talented young girl to a weaving contest and turning her into a spider when you don't like the result." Satholia threw the broken shell of Ares into a building, collapsing it into a shower of marbles, and cracked her fingers as preparation to smash Athena. Silence followed, then the sigh arrived.  "Still can't admit your arrogance even when it stares you in the face? Very well, it appears that I have to drive the reflection into your head the hard way." "How did you discover my plan?" Athena readied her spear and pretended she never heard the lecture. "I overheard It, " Satholia pointed at her ears. "Superhearing." Sweat trickled down Athena's cheek. Was there any chance for them to win? Time stop. Heat vision. Superhearing. Super-strength above Heracles, an illusion that broke the will of Ares and energy attack powerful enough to down Poseidon. Athena grasped her spear a bit tighter. Just how many powers could the woman in front of her use? What exactly is her limit? The goddess of wisdom readied her shield in a defensive stance. Athena's breathing became more controlled and synchronized. Her eyes sharpened. She had to be careful. One mistake, and she would end up like Hermes or Poseidon. Satholia clenched her fist and disappeared in flashes of rainbow lightning. Athena's eyes widened. Super-speed too!? She gritted her teeth and swept her spear in furious circles, aiming to take the enemy coming at her blind spot. Sadly for Athena, Satholia saw that coming. She stopped outside the range of the ivory weapon and caught it in her grasp. Athena's eyes widened with surprise, but it was already too late. In bizarre wrapping of flesh, scales grew on the elegant divine spear as it contorted into green snake baring it fang at Athena. Athena instinctively flung the snakes away with enough force to shatter its spine and raised her Aegis against Satholia without a pause. But instead of continuing her attack, Satholia sadly watched the snake writhed and slithered away. "You are lucky it isn't dead." Athena stoically ignored Satholia. Crack! "What!?" Athena fell face-first to the ground, crying from the sharp pain from her shattered spine. "I... I can't feel my leg!" "Of course you can't, " Satholia said calmly. Immense power churned around her fist as she walked to the disabled Athena. "The injury that snake suppose to take will be reflected at you. You shouldn't break its spine, but again, lack of compassion is one thing I can count on to stab you in the back, little Athena." Satholia's voice turned from motherly to reproachful as she charged the finishing blow. "Athena, dear, you never have a chance. You are a master warrior and tactician. No one can dispute that fact, but you are incapable of taking a loss or learning to reflect on yourself. Gods like you over-relies on your power to bull-doze everything that disagrees with you. What you have is strength without a heart, and such a thing will lose its purpose by tomorrow." Athena tried to scream, but her fear choke her cries in her throat. "[Onepunch]+[Vector Manipulation]+[Earthquake]+[Aura Coating]," Satholia called. Her power blazed, turning her fist a shining sun. "Sleep tight, little Athena."   Athena shut her eyes tight, but it didn't save her. "[Space Crush Impact]!" Scathach never witnessed that blow, but she felt it. Every soul on Olympus did. The air-pressure from this single blow lifted everyone into the sky in a galeforce and let them witnessed the might of Satholia first hand.  The queen's fist cracked the air itself as the shockwave shattered the reality on Olympus like glass. Glowing web of fractures was seen from space as they spread a hundred kilometers in every direction. But the power didn't scatter far, no. Instead of diffusing, the force's vector was directed on Athena's arms, crushing it to non-existence. The raw pressure dug a pit through the heart of Mt. Olympus. The updraft and wind formed a hurricane that pried the mountain from its foundation. That was the Olympus End Incident. It was an event that forces the pantheon of Phantasia, spearheaded by a critically injured Zeus, to drag themselves in front of Satholia and commit themselves to world peace. The Olympians survived to tell the tale, but some never psychologically recover.  ... "Wow," Cytortia's gaze widened with stars. "That is so awesome." "When did you wake up?" Rem said, wishing for a bag of popcorn and marshmallows for this epic story. Well, at least he learned the life-lesson: always bring snacks. "When that awesome goddess stopped time like a total badass and beat the crap out of Hermes," She squealed like a fangirl while venting her vengeance. "Serve you right for always pranking me, you jerk! Can't run in stop-time, can you, asshole!!!" "Do you know you are admiring a monster so terrifying the gods, one of them happened to be your master to boot, dared not to speak her name?" Scathach tried not to curl into a ball and cried in terror. Rem could understand why Scathach's fear, so he decided to respond with detached silence. Cytotia, on the other hand, was ruled by her passion. "You won't understand,” Cytortia accused at Scathach. ”You and the gods are like Chuang and Tie Hua, so drunk in the taste of power you can barely see anything else any better than ants.” Cytortia went further. "Wow, so Olympus got smacked around. Yeah, after the crap they pulled, I am only surprised I am hearing about this now? Don't tell me, I already know why. The senior gods stopped bickering for once and hid her existence from us, right? Your vanity and idiocy wouldn't fly with mommy handing out punches, so you buffy your head in the sand and pretend she doesn't exist." Scathach's expression pretty much confirmed what Cytortia had said. "Yeah, I guess so," Cytortia said. "You can't hold onto power the moment we know about a better alternative." Rem decided that was the moment to cut to the chase. "If you want to join Satholia's fan club, here how?" Rem said out loud. "But I don't think you will like the initiation." ... "Fuck," Scathach cursed and hung her head in depression. ”Why me?" Cytortia's emotion laid stuck between happiness and soul-crushing terror. "She must know I will die in the first round, right?" ”There are tonnes of better choices out there, ” Rem admitted and nodded toward the goddess with a new sense of kinship. ”You can always ask her when you have a chance.” ”But this means that you had to join me!” Cytortia shrieked. ”No offense and all but, mortal, my rivals will annihilate you.” ”Which is why we will go incognito until the right timing,” Rem stated and glanced at Scathach. ”I guess you know the stake.” ”Stupid goddess and her plan,” Scathach muttered, dragging herself to her bike. Her depression was obvious. ”Why the hell do I have to be dragged into this death trap?” "The short and only answer is karma," Rem said. "So about the Northland. What should I be expecting?" "The elves," Scathach answered while crying tears of blood. ”They live in the forest the size of Earth in an ancient capital city made out of trees. Although they lost to the human in number, even the weakest awakened elf would trump untrained mortal like you. We are all screwed, and she will blame me for sure. What did I do to deserve this hell?” Rem bit back a snark for that last comment. Scathach flipped a hidden switch, and in flash of light, the bike transformed into a black family van. The van was well-maintained with a glossy back surface and silver components. The engine rumbled, ready for an adventure. ”Welcome to the Black Mercy, ” Scathach dejectedly climbed onto a driver seat. ”Hop on.” She closed the door dejectedly. ... The Black Mercy was a van incorporating space-folding technology. It had four bedrooms, each containing a bunk-bed and a wooden desk.  The common-room came with a tea-table, sofas and flat-screen television. A mini-fridge and a computer sat to the side of a cupboard-wide cubical. Panel lamp and skylight decorated the ceiling. For the final touch, a black wall of glass separated the driver seat to the living quarter. Cytortia and Rem looked inside the bathroom. It was a Japanese style bath-house with a sweet hot spring. The aroma and steam hit the duo nose like an early new year; further investigation led to a door labeling supply, gym, kitchen, and Armory. Cytortia procured a towel from one of the shelves inside the hot spring. ”No peeking,” She stated. Rem nodded. He was not a degenerate, so an excuse wasn't needed. And with that, the van headed toward its first adventures.

Hikma followed Rem’s footstep and doped his brain. The talk with Melody gave him an idea. Like her, Hikma didn’t fully grasp the finer make up of [Conceptual Seal]. At first, he believed the symbol to be useless. Then the discovery of Arcane revealed the True Magic’s potential, catapulting him beyond the realm any mage dared to dream. The recent event gave Hikma a new perspective on his approach — namely, the procedural he cast an Arcane. Unlike traditional spells and magical technique, Arcane required not visualization nor mathematical-base formula but surfing the current of the Astral Realm. The user must act as a channel to guide the memories of the phenomenon to reality. Catalyst such as elemental affinity acted as a rod for such movement.  Like any information, Arcane’s property can be tampered. Took [Holy Force] for example. The Arcane true property was a grand smiting light from heaven that dealt extra damage to unholy beings, but both Rem and Hikma opted to tamper with the memory’s composition, since its original form is too inflexible. They could fire the Arcane as a concentrated laser of various sizes, or detonate the light like holy hand grenade. And that wasn’t counting other options the duo often improvised when they hit the wall. Like any action, it consumed a vast amount of stamina to channel the Arcane. Hikma’s Mana might stay constant, but the strain of creating [Conceptual Seal], guiding, and modifying the Arcane immensely taxed his stamina. The repeated usage of Arcane would eventually result in his eventual incapacitation as shown during the battle to secure the Wind-quarter. Hikma must invent an alternative way to use for his True Magic to stand tall against enemies numbered in thousands. Melody gave him an idea. Your power works decently well with enchantment. Oh, you want me to explain enchantment? Hikma sat cross-legged and meditate. Enchantment is spell-formulas inscribes into a weapon or tool to use the spell power. The more Mana-rich the material, the higher the number of enchantments we can carve and the higher its power output. My mother even developed a technique to fuse a foreign characteristic in Mana, enchanting and forging to create an even more powerful equipment, but learning about that technique is beyond even the most advance inscription. For now, the basic should clear your plan. Hikma was far from a combat prodigy like Luxinna and Melody. He lacked the Rem’s tactical prowess and creativity. He would never trump Cytortia’s medical mastery in this lifetime. What he had was a knowledge and Arcane, so he needed to push that expertise beyond humanity’s conceivable imagination. He needed to exploit the realization that only dawned on him a few minutes ago. Unless he wished for it — [Conceptual Seal] would not disappear. It took zero effort to maintain the sigils. … Words The ancient inscribed them in stone to record their history. Civilization rose on the back of the ability to communicate using message. Words were the cornerstone of humanity. But words alone were useless. They needed context and sentence structured to generate the power that brought forth civilization. [Conceptual Seal] was a phrase. Hikma needed to establish verb and context around it to create a sentence. And the tool he used to do that was Rem’s [Mentalism]. Hikma dove deeper into his Mana Core and forged his new weapons. … In the broken ancient temple, Hikma sat contemplating the Astral Realm. The world of his Mana Core took the form of the archaeological dig-site his father often took him in the past. It was a reflection into the heart of the boy who found himself more at peace with forgotten culture than the present civilization. The [Conceptual Seal] of [Holy] floated in front of him. Hikma’s [Mentalism] activated and changed how his mind perceived his True Magic. Hikma applied the brief lesson Melody gave him and added something more to the [Seal]. An enchantment line connecting several phrases as [Unbreakable] and [Protect] in a ring around [Holy]. Hikma then added the [Seal] for [Enhance] and [Restoration] to connect the two rings together. He didn’t know whether this would work, but he fancied to try. Hikma De Darwin activated his invention — the [Conceptual Construct]. The project glowed with intensity, and from it, he unleashed a torrent of light. He huffed. [Holy Armor] + [Barrier] The shield glowed as the defensive Arcane activated. Hikma made some mental notes and attached a [Storage] [Conceptual Seal] to his creation. While most Arcane needed stamina to funnel it. This Arcane to turn an object into magical battery — a phenomenon to awaken the object of non-living potential as a container. As a seal representing containment and preservation, the [Storage] rune act as the world's most efficient and largest capacity. Hikma experimented with his new toys. He made some minor change from further testing, but he believed he succeeded. Hikma De Darwin transformed a simple seal into a more useful enchantment capable of defending himself. A quick mental math showed his major expenditure of stamina originated from creating the seal and using the Arcane. By making the [Seal] into a more useful [Construct] that could hang around forever, he completely cut that expenditure from the equation in a prolong fight. Several minor adjustments, setbacks and downright failures later turned [Storage] into a valuable energy bank capable of storing excess energy gleamed from his Mana during his channeling or chargeable battery. Hikma even further restructured his psyche to associate the entire construct with [Holy Force] and [Holy Armor]. While this would hamper its flexibility, it greatly reduced the casting speed and improved the Arcane efficiency of his technique. Hikma smiled at his new creation. “Let call you [Aegis],” Hikma grinned. “Next, flight improvement, more offensive [Construct] and some more crowd-control.” Hikma flinched from the previous carnage. “Yeah, more battle-field control is a must.” Hikma renewed his creative vigor and got to work. … Orwell Mehest slammed his fist down on his black Spiritium throne. How did the pendulum swing this harshly? Hours ago, he was on the verge of crushing the Wind-quarter’s meager resistance. Then one coin-flip later, the board reversed. A barrier emerged from a middle of nowhere and tore apart his Amalgam. The resistance on the verge of defeat recovered and counter-attacked with morale of a fanatic. To make the matter worse was the fact the barrier’s range also extended to the spying Amalgam he planted in its vicinity. All the protective spells and concealment abilities he piled into the artificial souls failed to deter the all-healing light from decomposing it back to its original component.  Although, Wind-quarter was a major setback. The child of Deathless Clan still maintained his edge. The barrier expansion was decelerating. He was firmly in control of the Earth-quarter and Fire-quarter. Once the number of deaths hit five-million, he would gather enough life-energy and Mana to transplant a part of the World Enemy into himself and ascend as a god. Then he felt it. A foreign component lurking inside the Spiritium crystal in Fire-quarter hit the detectable mass. Orwell did not understand where this mysterious development originated from. It was impossible for him to slip-up. Those crystal mass-produced and supplied the Amalgam in his army. Its vitality in his operation pushed him to do a check-up in hour-basis. Orwell was certain nothing could slip past his meticulous check-up unless… He glared at the Dark One. The slumbering Primordial World Enemy whose power he was borrowing. Unless the mastermind’s essence formed an integral part of the system. Orwell stifled a curse. He might employ the abundant Leyline to run the system, but the World Enemy still covered the start-up cost. With its essence forming the integral part of the system, no wonder it was to sneak a trick past his security. Orwell typically looked down on speculation and gambling, but he would firmly toss half his net worth to bet nothing positive was in store for them. Orwell glanced at the pit where Wayward had been. With Samael Wayward removed from the battlefield after he hit S-rank from the ritual, the surest redundancies to the chaos disappeared. Orwell facepalmed. Why? Just Why did lord broken picked this moment of all space-time to ascend beyond the barrier ability to contain him. … Rem’s [Clairvoyance] also detected the change. No mistake, every equation without Horizon Dawn as a variable dictated of Fire-quarter becoming a living-hell before it got better. But last time Rem checked the future, there was no festival of derange monster stacking the heads for dead men into a giant arch and row of woman crying tears of blood as their swollen womb spawned the monster forcefully impregnated into them. Rem barely kept his stomach in line. What the fuck? Those degenerate human-cattle, mind-cancer of a hentai was too out of character for Orwell Mehest. The perp had zombie’s army and soul-construct as his calling card, not these scums of the earth decadence. As a nightmare whispered amongst the cartel of Mexico and legend of the Yakuza, Samadi of Argentum was far from squeamish, but the sheer inhumanity he witnessed in his vision made him hurl inside. Rem swallowed his bile. He went through a mental-checklist of anyone with enough mental sickness and resource to cause his vision. The late Illma Zoldia Road came to mind, but he squashed the possibility. Yes, that bitch had an omega-level sadism, but she turned the children into a cyborg army, not chaining them like a dog while mutating their innards. No, this was far from enjoying pain. The user wanted attention for his depravity. He lived for the glory of doing the most heinous act while nobody could stop him. Another familiar name surfaced in Rem’s mind. The paladin of Cytortia growled. How? Wayward burned him to ash. How could the dead return to life? Unless… Rem looked at the eldritch moon and groaned. That was where the monster came from. The Primordial probably snagged that maniac’s soul and weaponized it for shit and giggled. Rem stumbled to the window and yelled. “Red alert. Sol Grandy is about to return in Fire-quarter. Start full preparation! All members of our order assemble! We have a massacre to stop! I repeat! We have a red alert!” … Luxinna and Melody stopped arguing about their projectiles planning and kicked off into a sprint. … Hikma opened his eyes from deep construction of his newest construct. Around him various half-formed constructs floated around him. Hikma meticulously created several more [Construct] during his meditation. [Surt] — a fire-base spherical enchantment capable at high-speed travelled size manipulation and enchantment disintegration — much easier to build compare to other [Construct]. [Yotun] — the hardest creation for Hikma. It took one and a half hours of tinkering and brainstorming to find the most efficient crowd control. Hikma combined [Ice] with [Golem] with a measure of reinforcement, self-restoration and internal battery. [Yotun] functioned in both a meat-shield golem and a self-growing glacier for crowd control. [Nimbus] — Hikma’s newest hoverboard based from his pre-existing flight [Arcane]. Hikma added some stealth and healing ability. He spent vast times fine-tuning its maneuverability and speed. Sad to say, Hikma could only add further tuning after a test-run. Hikma was on the verge of drafting his fifth construct when Rem sounded the alarm bells. … Strategists on both sides of the fence had a fair ground for their concern. Inside an abandoned building — surrounded by an army of Orwell’s spawn — the black Spiritium crystal glowed blood red. An inhuman voice echoed from the crimson crystal. The sound not produced by a voice-box, but a shriek of vibrating metal. “WAYWARD!” The crystal screamed. “MEHEST!” The black object screeched before exploding into a cloud of red mist. The red mist swallowed Orwell army whole, consuming a vast amount of Spiritium and organic material in a feast of savage crunch and twist. From the blood cloud birthed a monster. Crimson Amalgamic dust formed its flesh, Spiritium its bone, calcium and mineral built its shell. The monster resembled a massive torso connected to a bony tree root. It towered over the height of 20 meters. Giant tendrils of energy snaked out of its back, ending in malformed mouths filled with a black void. Its bony torso opened to bellow out a laugher. Malformed swarm of flaming eyes blinked and rolled in fast, critter-like speed. A screech bellowed from the jaw of void. “Wayward! Mehest! You belief you see the last of me? Do you think I will die that easily?” The abomination’s name was World Enemy Sol Grandy. Sol’s rejoice last approximately ten seconds until it noticed a prey. … All jokes aside, the crown for today’s biggest loser undoubtably dropped on the Vice-Captain of royal-mages and royal-knights. In less than twenty-four hours both Kruger and Chamomile lost all their colleagues, got their ass stomp by the man they deluded themselves into thinking as an equal co-worker, left to wander in the ruin of their home with surviving nobles from the Central Palace to babysit. Kruger wanted to yell Orwell’s name at the skies. That bastard threw him into a nightmare. Then he tossed him the responsibility of taking care of these morons. Maybe it was a part of Orwell’s machination to prevent them from becoming a threat. “Vice-Captain Kruger!” One pompous noble shouted at the Vice-Captain. “I demand you secure my safety and retake the city back from Orwell Mehest at—ack!” Kruger punted the noble in the face with his remaining hand and turned toward the crowd of survivors gathering around him. “I will repeat this only once,” he addressed the nobles. “All our facilities are down. Our troops and garrisons are dead. There are no general in Venistalis. The chance of us doing anything is pretty much zero.” A girl in a tattered dress that was once a high-grade ball-gown walked out. “You mean we are going to die?” Kruger opened his mouth, but it was his comrade who answered the question. “We are going to die!” Chamomile raved. “Don’t you get it? Orwell loath us! That guys spare you to punish me with an extra mile to suffer!” Chamomile let out a stressful laugher. “Let me get one thing off my chest as a dead man. I wish you never made it out alive, Andries. You and the rest of your noble cliques can drop dead for all I care.” The girl, Andries, blinked, flabbergasted by the Vice-Captain’s venomous resentment. The rest of the noble retreated from the enormous killing intent radiating from Chamomile. “Why? What?” The young duchess’s daughter Andries watched the long-time family friend exploded. “Do you know how many documents your father force me to falsify, Andries? It a struggle to stop myself from losing it at your family’s dinner. You got enjoy to those luxuries and parties. Meanwhile, I slave away from morning to midnight dealing with your garbage. The radiant daughter of a respected duke? That sham image wants to make me puke.” With the prospect of certain death on a horizon, the fragile dam called Chamomile no longer had her career to worry for. “Orwell is right. You all should die painfully. A bunch of morons sitting on the throne of decadence, leaving your mess for me to clean. I don’t even get a thank — not a single request for me to take a break — and you expect me to die for you? It just one mission after another to help inflate your ego. I am done! You are going to die. I am going to die. Happy now! No wonder Wayward-“ Smack! Chamomile barely saw Kruger’s palm smacking her face. “Enough!” Kruger shared her feeling, but he refused to give in. He owed that demoness who saved his life. Then they heard a bellowing. “What is that?” Andries whispered. A screech resounded. The crimson World Enemy rose to the sky and trained its eyes at the survivors.

Rem loitered near the Central Palace. Gaudy. Whoever created this place preferred forms over function. Pathetic. Unlike this shiny dartboard, Rem’s personal fortress would be underground with enough hidden turret and traps to awe an ancient Pharos. But Grand Empire wasn’t Rem, and neither gold-laced marble columns nor luxurious carpet that comboed with the fabulous, colorful crystal artworks prevented Orwell from playing Pinata with Venistalis. As Rem imagined his future HQ, he heard the roar and crashing impact. The boy glared at the sky. Part of him tempted to mind his merry business. Per usual, his inner Kal-El beg differed after stomping REM’s shambling corpses into the mud. Resigned to his moral duty, Rem changed his destination to rescue Vice-Captain Epic Fail. … Venistalis Celeb returned. Sadly, the current budget prevented us from re-inviting the judge. Right now, our director was fleeing the building after getting caught surfing to Hawaii on endangered shark. Resuming Miss Foxy’s coverage. To Miss Enma’s fans — if any exist — hate to break the news. Her chances were bleaker than Batwoman’s viewership. Good news, Shyme’s still kept [Divine Beast Raiment] — all 45 seconds until the timer rang. Bad news, it won’t bump her odds even by a millimeter. Orwell bounced Shyme past a half-destroyed building — fully furbishing its new role as grounded rocks. Shyme descent, slamming into a burnt pawn-shop’s wall as its hottest modern art decoration. The fox-girl growled and summoned the juice to activate [Fire Flicker], blinking away in flashes of fires. She reappeared behind Orwell. Her spell readied. [Air Palace: Gale Palm] The palm attack was spectacular. Phantasia’s Academy often regarded compact air-pressure condensed into the palm as CQC spell-casting’s fastest and surest method to burst your enemy organ. With Shyme’s 9000 Mag beatstick, even a Bonafede Aircraft Carrier would fold like paper. But as Mr. Thanos — an omnicidal space-potato farmer — said; reality is often disappointing. Shyme’s battleship-busting attack met Orwell’s skeleton armor with gusto, but Orwell’s armor emitted an 180-degree out-of-phase air-waves in response. Particularly bright physics student with textbook on destructive interference and waves under their belt would already deduce Orwell’s abilities, but Shyme’s divine bloodline didn’t award her A in Physics. Hence, she did what those physics student wouldn’t, ignoring her attack’s failure and pressing in with a flaming fist. [Enma Style: Purgatory Charge] [Purgatory Charge] was an assassination technique for assaulting opponent’s internal organ with sudden pressure and temperature change. An upgrade of classic [Fire first] — effective against both superhuman and giant monster by skipping defense to assault internal organs. Shyme’s moves were the logical method to by-pass Orwell’s mysterious protection. In case someone was slow on the uptake, it must be obvious normal tactic took a vacation against anything registered as threats in Rem’s Bingo book. Yes. Shyme’s punch landed. No. It was not very effective. Instead, the vibration from Orwell’s ghostly armor — his Adamakles — jarred her very inside, blasting Shyme into a wrecked drink vendor. Quite a shame, that drink vendor ranked as the fifth best of Venistalis before Orwell summoned evil god in the city. “25 seconds left,” Orwell counted. Shyme reemerged from the store’s broken counter with grim determination. Her red-hot armor glowed at maximum output. The gravity of her next action paused her for a second, but an image of one goddess floated in her mind. Suddenly, consequences were the least of her concern. [Enma Style: Rakshasa Spiral] Shyme released her most powerful offense. A humongous demonic fire fox that indiscriminately lit the entire street aflame. Atmospheric Mana ignited, boosting the fox power, and washing entire street in a fiery hell-scape. As a demigod, Shyme’s [Divinity] allowed her to manipulate atmospheric and Leyline Mana to fuel her attacks. Uncertified godling were strictly prohibited from using this option because the risk of permanently scar the Leyline, altering wildlife of the entire area. The gods were uncaring buffoons, but they still possessed intense protectiveness to nature. This law strict enforcement was among few evidences to support the gods’ sanity. Only one member of 33 Stars got approval to use [Divinity] for her low-lethality and excellent control — Cytortia Tianshang. Shyme were banking on the trick she copied from her best-friend. … Orwell realized Shyme’s tactic, noted the possibility she might fail to limit the fire from reaching Princess Velnia, and lifted his foot to settle the battle. You read correctly, ladies and gents. Orwell didn’t shift a single step since Shyme received his boot. Shyme’s effort bore fruit. She got elevated from insignificant to societal nuisance in Orwell’s hate list. But many successes on this green Earth are like communism. The moment you achieve it, you realized it is a horrible idea. Getting Orwell Mehest to take you seriously may not grant the idiotic lemming an epic socioeconomic crisis of terrifying magnitude. However, unlike starvation and breadlines, Orwell never diddled at separation of people’s soul from their body. Bellowing cold mist detonated from Orwell’s skin. What followed was so traumatic it required massive of cuddling from Shyme’s loving future husband and her two BFFs therapeutic service to heal her trauma. [Tundra Ice Create: Frozen World] Supernatural Frost billowed from Orwell’s body, extinguishing Shyme’s Rakshasa before it had time to attack. 10 seconds remained in Shyme’s clock … Shyme understood situation had rocketed from North-pole to South Africa when her inferno disappeared in a mist of freezing chill. Shyme grunted and tuned her Mana sense. There must be a weakness in Orwell’s defense. Shyme Enma sensed Orwell’s Mana and froze stiff. No fucking way. Miss Enma discovered the terrifying truth. She had no soul to blame but hers. Orwell hit the bull-eyes. She took humans like him and Wayward with levity. Never paid attention to their full potential. The same arrogance Rem reprimanded his comrade was about to visit Shyme Enma with regret she never forgot. Orwell was a void of Mana. His connection to the Leyline was active, but there was no Mana Core in his body. All the trashing he dished were his own output. The excess Mana only flowed to shore up his energy skeleton — his newest energy tank. Just how did he generate his freezing spells without Mana? Frost continued creeping the street, freezing the combusting atmospheric Mana and stopping the fire tsunami that about to engulf Velnia.  Click! Orwell stepped toward Shyme. Spiderwebs of ice radiated from his very footsteps. “You should have run,” Orwell’s voice ranged icily. “And zero.” The Mana of [Divine Beast Raiment] dissipated, sending a cocktail of fever heat down Shyme’s spine. Her throat parched. Her vision blurred. All her limbs weighted like lead — effects from abrupt halving in stats. Shyme’s ability dropped from high A-rank to mid B as her steroid’s side-effect kicked in. [Divine Beast Raiment] allowed the member of Enma clan to double their stats at one critical price tag. For every activation minute, the user’s parameter halved for an hour. An Enma either downed his opponents in time and found a place to recover or suffered general nastiness. Shyme failed the former, now the latter awaited. “[Shock Spector],” Orwell’s skeleton hardened with a single command. The four-arms giant rose straight to an attack position. [Fist of Shock] Click! A sound rang as the specter threw its fist.  15 meters from Orwell, Shyme funneled her Mana to protect herself. [Air Palace: Gale Wall] The wall of air erected by Shyme vibrated and shattered. Leftover kinetic energy knocked Shyme rolling. The fox-girl cough another mouthful of blood. That direct hit finally clued the demigoddess to Orwell’s ability. “Longitudinal wave,” Shyme gasped. “Wow, how long it took you?” Orwell unamusingly confirmed. “To be fair, I expect you to deduce that after we finish genetically engineer space-poodle.” Shyme climbed to her feet. The spectral armor shielding Orwell must be able to emit a high-frequency vibration. As a method of energy transfer, Orwell’s kinetic waves could travel through any median and softened offending air-pressure attack with destructive interference. It was a superb counter offense. In wonderful displays of stupidity, Shyme didn’t retreat, instead she stubbornly released her armor stored heat energy in another burst of laser. Orwell lifted his finger to meet the laser without sparring a blink. [Tundra Ice Create: Cold Sentence] Ray of icy energy chilled the area. Shyme’s armor creaked against the temperature as its energy utterly depleted. The red torch of heat fizzled to non-existence as the icy cold reduced conical area stretching 100 meters from Orwell into Winterland. Only five individuals realized it then, but Trimegal wasn’t Orwell’s only experiment with World Enemy. Rem’s vision and Cytortia’s knowledge confirmed Horizon Dawn’s worst suspicion. Orwell and Wayward struck a deal. First, the creation of Adamakles, an innovation which converted Mana into a permanent supernatural manifestation, which utterly dwarfed [Divine Core] and Cultivation Technique in efficiency— only falling behind para-causal True Magic in potential. While such a weapon in his war chest was troublesome, Orwell’s experiment with World Enemy’s DNA was far deadlier. During his preparation period, Orwell successfully grafted DNA of Tundra — an ice World Enemy — into his own. It took him an entire day in recuperation chamber to readjust, but the result granted Orwell’s powers to create ice and emit thermal-cooling radiation. All it took was adapting his ice spell to this energy for Orwell to surpass any ice-mage in Phantasia before the Wolf of Snowcastle (irony at its finest). Ignorant that she never stood a chance, Shyme collapsed to the ground, shivering from Hypothermia. Click! She saw the familiar frosty spider web spreading from the corner of her vision. Orwell was within a reaching distance. Shyme didn’t have the strength to resist. Then the beating begun. The purple specter lifted her by the neck and dropped her into a waiting punch. [Shock Spector: Fist of Shock] Click! Shyme ate the shock-wave-fist at point-blank. Every bone in her body creaked. New mouth-full of blood flowed up her throat. She black-outed for a second, but that was only an Hors d’oeuvre. Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! 34 more punches of similar magnitude arrived on her body at pointblank. Each Click landed a punch on her face, body and limbs, pulverising her entire being. The gruesome result was up to anyone’s imagination, but broken bones and ruptured muscles were obvious. Orwell’s impression of Jotaro Kujo finished momentously as his discounted Star Platinum landed its wind-up. Click! The 35th punches sent Shyme shooting through two more building, hitting the third hard enough to collapse the lopsided structure into mountains of rock, and landed with debris burying her. … Shyme Enma laid in a pool of her blood. Her broken armor sprayed in pieces around her. She never experienced more pain in her life. Her legs refused to move. A steel bar impaled her mangled shoulder. Her left arm was a bloody mass and her body racked with pain. It was freezing. Her malfunctioning body pointlessly pumped blood to preserve her bleeding internal organ. Moving the finger on her right hand sent fresh agony down her nerve. Shyme must lost several molars in that assault given fresh pain in her gum. One of her eye was swollen shut when Orwell’s punch landed on her face. Her ears rang, but no sound registered through her burst ear drums. She experienced pain from so many locations; it was a miracle she could pinpoint any of them. Suddenly, the darkness exploded in white and ice. … [Shock Spector: Vibrator Blade] Orwell’s skeleton swung a sword of purple energy, sending concentrated air waves down the city block, blasting Shyme Enma from the safety of being buried alive under the rubbles. The demigoddess' body flew into the sky from the explosion, spraying a fountain of blood, and landed on the street after fourty-meters free-fall with a crunch. … She shouldn’t be alive. No one should after those assault. God or not, sixteen years-old girls weren’t meant to survive 35 punches of Jojo-grade beating, a falling building and multistoried fall. The fact her grievously injured lung barely functioned defied all biological common-sense. The beating heart in her chest was a miracle after all it suffered through. Shyme’s [Divine Core] and beastmen physiology may pay parts in her pulse, but something far more human held her shattered body together.  A single raw, unadulterated wish. Shyme still remembered it like yesterday. … Both she and idiot got stuck in on a desert island. Both were in ballgowns, tattered during their turbulent journey across the waves. Both were seven years-old. “What the hell are we going to do!!!?” Cytortia yelled like a panicky little girl (wait wasn’t she 7). “It is your fault,” Shyme reproached the goddess. “If you had accepted my offer, we would never be in this position.” “Oh, sorry, the offer to come under your fold?” Cytortia snorted. “You are as bad as Tai Hua! Plus, it is your fault we fell into the ocean! My plan to steal the raft would succeed without a hitch if you stuck to your business!” It was Shyme’s turn to go ballistic. “Which idiot tried to sneak out of the cruise-ship party by stealing a life-raft?” “Which idiot jumped after me!” “Of course, I must jump after you! Breaking rules is bad! Grandpa said gods are aloof entities who keep the Rule of Phantasia! A god like us shouldn’t break rules!” “Rule this? Rule that? The only thing I see your rule accomplishes is creating problems. Do people even need those rules anyway! It also your fault the giant leviathan attacked the ship!” “How is that my fault?” “Whose uncle and cousins wore an accessory radiating obvious kraken’s aura? Don’t your family fund the Leviathan hunt! Given this years’ number, that species would hate you to the bone!” “Leave my uncle out of this! My family did nothing wrong. Grandpa said they are pest! We are doing the world a favor by getting rid of them!” ““You are the idiot, not me!!!”” Cytortia and Chuang — two idiots on a desert island — continued fighting bitterly like cats and dogs. A day later… Growl Both girls’ stomach rumbled. “A truce?” Cytortia cried from hunger. “A truce,” Shyme agreed, inches from eating her designer cloth to ease her stomach’s protest. “Can you cook?” “Yeah,” Cytortia offered her hand. “Can you hunt?” “I am the best in the clan at hunting.” The two shook hands. A week later… Both girls rested by a fire Shyme created. Their elegant clothing were unrecognizable rags now. The two girls were gazing at the starry skies together. “Hey, don’t you want to quit you training under Nu Wa?” Shyme asked as her friend. “Your story is hardly reassuring.” “Still trying to recruit me? Isn’t the same go for you?” Shyme remained silent. “I believe in the clan,” Shyme lied to everyone and herself. “That hardly reassuring. Are you sure you are a fox-girl? I swear you are a half wolf with your loyalty.” Silence “Hey, what about we team up and take the world by storm!?” Cytortia suggested. “If we join force, we will be undefeatable!” “With an unlucky hopeless case like you? No, thank you! What are we even joining force for?” “Maybe to save the world?” “That is dumb!” “Well, if you grow tired of Enma clan, you can join me whenever you want,” Cytortia offered her pinky. “I will even make you a pinky promise.” “Keep dreaming!” Despite her mouth, Shyme’s pinky finger told another story. “Hell, I will probably have to work overtime to save your stupid life!” … “Like hell…” Shyme whispered to an illusion of her first friend gazing at her sadly from the distant, fighting through her body rampant protest to cease function and die. “I won’t… break my promise… not to…” Click! Orwell landed on the scene, utterly flabbergasted. Demigoddess or not, Shyme should be dead with those bones and muscles showing. The girl lost enough blood to kill a normal organism twice over. What sort of tenacity pushed someone in the bloodied state to continue living, much less crawl in a trail of blood under that injury? I need to kill her now. [Orwell’s Original: Spectral Frost Armament] Thump!  A glowing sigil of light halted Orwell's spectral sword in its track. Shyme’s fading eyes seared in her mind an image she never forgot — a man in a black helmet and trench coat stepping between her and overwhelming force of Orwell. His back and the symbol its shouldered boasted the very bedrock of strength. Arrived, Hikma De Darwin had.

“A new helmet, Chronicler?” No reply arrived. None needed, the reproaching aura was enough to clue Orwell on Hikma’s disapproval. “This is combat. You can’t afford to be nice.” Hikma gestured with his index finger. A tiny sphere of sigil blipped in contact with Orwell’s Adamakles. Hikma’s [Surtr] flared in a conflagration of flames, much to Orwell’s annoyance. “Really?” Orwell’s outrage hopped over the Alps. “For fuck’s sake! Fire? Again? How can you folks be so insane? You keep repeating a trick which constantly fails against me. Isn’t that the textbook definition of insanity?” Orwell ignored the fire and retaliated with the classic. [Tundra Ice Create: Cold Sentence] Orwell fired his ice-beam, robbing the thermal energy from all surface the ray touched. Under the pale light, frost condensed and air chilled. Temperature dropped to level where breath become visible white mist. The same attack that defeated Shyme repeated its chilling devastation to full effect. But if Orwell expected the result to repeat, he was in for an awakening. An ice pillar — erected under cover of flames — stood between Hikma and Orwell’s freeze-ray. Orwell almost facepalmed as he realized Tundra’s energy obvious weakness — no one can freeze frozen water. Behind the transparent screen, Hikma pointed downward. Orwell’s heart sank. Against his better judgement, he glanced at his foot. A block of rock bound his ankle. The Horizon Dawn’s knight must have immobilized his feet, using his flames as a distraction. Orwell’s Adamakles may be invincible against kinetic attack, but said protection didn’t extend to the ground beneath him. Hikma index finger flipped, revealing a [Conceptual Seal] for [Earth]. “Aww fuck,” Orwell cursed. [Earth Shift] Orwell shot backward — dragged by Hikma’s rock manacle chaining his feet — as the ground beneath slid him away like a supersonic conveyor belt. He sped past the rubbles, a stun Princess Velnia and into his tower of Spiritium stone in a roller-coaster ride funded by hell. Hikma glanced back at Shyme. Good. His heal was patching her worst injury. Crash! Orwell reunited with his headquarter at an exploding speed, slamming into the Spiritium tower with enough force to create a dust cloud. … Albert Starlight blinked. He rubbed his eyes. Did Orwell Mehest — the mage who effortlessly manhandled Shyme Enma at her full-power — lost a magical trade. Albright knew about [Divine Beast Raiment]. Who didn’t? With [Divine Core] and [Raiment] at their disposal, the Enma clan dominated Phantasia for centuries. Those Inherited Skills were among the most unrivaled. Those who overcame those gaps and defeated a recognized member of the Enma’s line were all elite of elite — The Holy Church Executioner, Vampire Royalty, The IK Chancellor, Special Asset Unit of Seven Continental Alliance, the Untouchables. Albert Starlight could accept the 33 Stars as a member of these exclusive elite. What he couldn’t comprehend was a masked nobody from nowhere fisting the elite back to the ring’s corner. The masked man strolled toward them, carrying the semiconscious Enma in his arm. Starlight blinked. Is the color started returning to Shyme’s face? That was ridiculous. No amount of recovery magic could heal the girl this close to death. “Take care of her,” the modulated voice from the mask is unrecognizable. “She will survive, but she needs time to recover.” The masked man placed an object in Shyme’s palm. “Take care of this, okay? This is a gift to protect you while your friend leave the picture. It will protect you.” Shyme’s fading eyes watched the forged green necklace traced with Cytortia’s scent and allowed a shed of tear to roll down her cheek. Hikma left to confront his enemy. Shyme watched her savior slowly stepping to a fight she couldn’t believe he would triumph. “Wait… Don’t go… you will…” Hikma turned back to the girl. Shyme sensed a reassuring smile was behind that helmet. “Wait,” Velnia looked at the enigmatic hero. “Who are you?” Hikma’s answer reflected the might of his power in proportional to his humility. “No one important. I am just a weakling.” Hikma walked, leaving his tormenters to become something more. The two girls watched the legend in the making marched off to his first mythical battle. Mercia’s silent opinion was universal If that thing is weak, no one is strong. … Orwell wondered why his track records against these folks were so miserable. He stomp Venistalis, destroyed the nobilities, and squashed Shyme Enma like a bug. Then these unknown bozos appeared from nowhere with numbers and resources far inferior to any above and hurt him. He got arrested before the battle begun. His invasion succeeded except for their stronghold. Unexplainable barrier dropped from the sky, rendering his invasion attempt moot. A surprise ambush prevented despite his overwhelming Mana and bodies. Three of his crystal went to dreamland within half an hour. The day ended with a peace-deal and a textbook’s case steam-rolled, concluding in bruises. Adding to the list humiliation; the second bout open with his fourth crystal getting blown up at the start-line and Chronicler — arguably the most comprehendible of Hal Jordan’s threat — sent him home feet-first using via sliding-earth deliveries. Orwell calmed himself. First, he launched a reboot program on the Amalgam. He must update his Hive-mind’s firewall, but with Chronicler approaching him like a particular unstoppable warrior massacring his way through a darkened hallway, sparing time to do magic-coding was an impossibility. Orwell’s only preventative measure was patching the leaking ship and hoping his mental anti-virus would prevent more damage from Rem’s logic bomb. Orwell grunted and walked inside the tower. Honesty time, he originally believed Chronicler was a mage possessing an unrivaled variety of attribute. Facing the man again made him realized that knowledge existed as an assumption, answering practically nothing Orwell needed to pull a victory. Orwell Mehest concluded his opponent was an enigma, jumping in blind would risk his death now that Trimegal was his only reassurance. He must muster all advantages under his belt. The child of the Deathless Clan waited for the Chronicler’s reckoning in his tower — his home-field. … Chamomile ran without looking back, but sins weren’t that easy to escape. Said sins slammed the rock she stood ten seconds ago to ash, and howled, shattering stones and blasting Chamomile to the wall. Chamomile took a full look at the corrupted corpse lumbering to kill her. The image broke her heart. Hex was a five-meter high, lumbering ogre of a corpse. Orwell must engineer his body in some ways, given his newly earned muscle. Two diamonds replaced his burnt eyes. His once luxurious hair now clean shaven with rows of crystal electrode embedded into his skulls. Implants at his chest were intricate metal pieces surgically designed for durability. Hex’s burnt skin was gone. Instead, smart metal grafted his flesh. A mechanical contraption of Orwell designed replaced crippled hand. Back-extension of twin canon robotically clicked as they mounted into firing position and blasted Chamomile with such fire-power her Cultivation Technique’s automatic safety deployed and failed to keep her in fighting-shape. Chamomile traveled violently through a brick wall, flipped over a dozen rough piles of brick before hitting one last wall and falling to the earth in bloods and tears. She sobbed — her resistance crumbled — waiting for Hex to finish her. Hex drooled a black saliva, growled with burning pain as it reached the destroyed Chamomile. Chamomile clench her eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable to happen. Crack! Funny. Chamomile thought at the impasse of utter despair. She believed violent death should be painful. Crash! Chamomile pried her eyes open. Hex was lying at a ruin of a house. Chamomile found the causes of this miracle Infront of her. It was a man wearing a black trench-coat emblazoned with a familiar symbol. In that black pit of despair, he stood as an unparallel beacon of hope. “The worst meeting I hope never occurs went off as expected,” Rem sighed, Uzi submachine gun in his left hand. His right hovered over a hand-canon custom made by Melody. He hesitated for a second and abstained. “What is—” “Stuart Hex is pretty much 95% through death door when Wayward carted him to Orwell. Patching him back is impossible, so Orwell avoided wasting valuable resource and prolonged his life by adding some… change.” Rem loaded his weapon. Orwell’s obsession with robotic modification was downright ridiculous. A skin-graft that rendered Hex immune to magic. A fucking Mana-powered laser cannon. An artifact eye that performed god-know-what function. World Enemy’s DNA graft. Even Rem didn’t understand Hex the Abomination’s full schematic. He was likely up against the biggest threat next to Orwell and Trimegal. “Get away from here, Chamomile. You don’t want to see this.” “But Captain is in there! I can…” “Six explosives throughout his body tie to his brainwave pattern. Intense mental pollution via artificial Amalgam. An intense cerebral re-engineering. A hormonal control so complicate, even Empress admitted defeat. One trace of original Hex spook from that thing, and the programing will commit an override to murder everything in proximity. That appeal-to-your-better-self-trick is so classic a kid can predict it from the 2nd episode. Do you seriously believe Orwell don’t have countermeasure for that?” “But, but,” Chamomile crumbled in tear spring of emotion. “I DON’T WANT HIM TO DIE!” “Stop being a drama queen,” Rem lifted his gun. “The person who suffers the most is—” Then Rem stopped. Maybe it was an illusion — or stress, or something more. But a familiar man in red-cape and an S-shield stood in front of him. No doubt it was a hallucination. Superman wasn’t real, but the sadness as he gazed at Chamomile sure was. Rem halted mid-sentence. The appearance of his humanity made-flesh put the stopped to every excuse he prepared, Rem realized what he must do — his moral duty. He hated such an idea, but he believed Superman wanted this. Once again, Rem the protector of Dream triumphed against Rem the callous tactician, Rem turned toward Chamomile as Clark Kent of Kansas faded into his heart. “It is your decision.” Rem tossed his Uzi away. The Vice-Capian blinked at the terrifying knight’s change of heart. “My decision?” “Yes, I am partly responsible for Hex ending up like that,” Rem admitted. “His fate is my failing. So, I will leave the decision to you. To free him from mortal coil or to chain his ghost in this world. It is your choice to make — not mine. My job is to stall him until you decide.” Chamomile realized the utter absurdity. “That is impossible!” She uttered, staring at the rising abomination. “You aren’t planning to take him down alone.” “No, it is a sparring match until you gave me an answer.” The Man of Steel marched to his next trail. Given Chamomile’s inherent cowardice, Rem would probably die before she asked him to spare Hex. But that who Superman is, the man who has faith in humanity’s positive quality despite knowing all contrary evidence and risk. The manifestation of hope would never surrender to pessimism. As a follower of such ideal, dying on that rampart in service of hope was preferable to surrendering to laziness disguise as wisdom. … Rem wanted to issue some complaint. Justice shall prevail, they say. Barack Obama is a good president, they say. Diversity is our strength, they say. Well, anyone above grade 5 with half-functioning brain cell would remember ‘they’ say many things, most ending as utter bullshit. Diversity of thought is a strength, assuming people can agree with the ‘wrong evidence’. Diversity of race was downright crippling in an era of purity spiraling. Barack is a good president when you wanted to pay for the monolithic government to manage your healthcare or created domestic disaster as the princes in power constantly committed seppuku to save the emperor’s naked ass as he accomplished nothing of value. Acknowledgment that something failed spectacularly was the first-step toward improvement. Diversity could cripple if you get radical on board. Obama’s only positive accomplishment was being presidential on camera and staying from the veto button when competent people dealt with Bin Laden and fracking. Justice shall prevail; well, Rem sure had a tough time proving it. Crash! He fell to the floor and rolled from Hex’s gigantic clash-landing, which reduce the ground to crater. Hex’s eyes glowed crimson as he screeched. Rem cursed and side-flipped from an energy beam, detonating the earth behind him. The explosion sent him flying. Thankfully, his three-years’ training kicked in. Rem quickly righted himself mid-air, landed, and dove desperately as Hex’s laser cannon obliterated his previous location. [Firewhip] + [Territory] Rem employed his [Territory], gaining full magical authority in 100 m radius from his epicenter. Flaming whip shoot from the ground to bind Hex. The Abomination roared and flexed its magic-resistant flesh, destroying Rem’s binding in soul-rendering cried. Rem sighed. Well, that was his best suppression EAPS. [Clairvoyance] already suggested 99% failure chance for traditional [Holy Force] to slow him. Only one power in his arsenal could suspend Hex, except Rem barely scratched the foot of mastering that. The battle was an ongoing devastation. Rem wasn’t an upfront fighter to begin with and his three-years of training borne fruit by showing the stage need to reach the root of [Mentalism]. Among Horizon Dawn, only Rem’s have yet to complete his training. His foot was half-way through that gate. All he needed was a final epiphany that kept eluding him for years. The current Hex was a ball of rage and swinging kill-program, mentally rewriting those directives took time Rem didn’t have. The implant Orwell employed to put Hex in this state also constantly cycle his brain-activity, ensuring a mind-trick would last a second at most. Hex the Abomination was Remus Breaker’s perfect counter. Rem simply lacked the raw force of Hikma, Melody or Lux to stop him. More importantly, Rem promised not to play offense until Vice-Captain Burden finally defied his expectation. A promise that he was quickly regretting. To make a matter worse, his exhaustion was peeking for a return. It was obvious the next few minutes would suck. … “What should I do?” Chamomile whispered to herself. She was never strong. She was weak, constantly needing pillar and validation. First her father. Then Hex—her brother figure. Chamomile desired a normal girly life in the world where death and misery were commonplace. Her heart couldn’t possibly tolerate another lost. Chamomile Elragorn already lost too much. The building nearby her trembled before blasting apart to smithereens. Rem’s body flew, landing in a smoking heap beside her. The man climbed back up. Blood trickled down from the cut above his eyes as he slowly staggered to the fight he didn’t plan to win. “Why!?” Chamomile didn’t know when she devolved to scream. “Why don’t you just end him? Why do you want my permission to do it? Why is an utter loser like me worth risking your life to save?” Rem sugarcoated nothing. “Totally agree. You are a worthless weakling, but…” Hex emerged from the rubbles. His contraption hands opened, revealing a flame-thrower charged with Mana. The beast growled like an injured, lost animal fuel by rage. The contraption spun, focusing the energy and flexing the spell’s formula to generate obscene temperature. “… a great hero once said only those who know weakness can become truly strong.” Hex screamed. A pointed his flamethrower at the duo. “Stop this,” Chamomile finally sensed the pain drifting in the air. “I don’t want this.” Rem looked at Chamomile, tried his best for a reassuring smile and refused to let the woman behind him ate the incinerator. Because that is what Superman would do. … Chamomile responded with stun, witnessing an embodiment of heroism she could only dream of being. But something else took her attention. It was the animalistic screams of her friend and commander. Hex wasn’t supposed to scream like that. He was gallant, brave — an exemplar of Grand Empire’s courage. With her adrenalin and feared subsided, Chamomile realized Hex’s screams weren’t the yelling of triumph but a pained animal. The fact she was still alive proved Stuart Hex painfully kept a hint of awareness behind that monster. That living weapon worth double as Hex’s torture. Hex let out another agonizing screamed as he readied his flames-throwers, putting Chamomile up for an ultimate choice. Either let her brother’s figure die or let him suffered perpetually — the moment of truth was now. Chamomile reflected on everything Hex meant to her and squeezed out an answer. “Please…” She sobbed. “Please let him rest.” The fireball the size of a house sailed toward the two, digging a searing trench where it passed. But the hero’s eyes responded with undying light. The second battle of the conclusion has officially begun.

"Brr... I don't remember that New York was... -5 Celsius (23 Farenheit)?" I shiver as I sit down at a Walmart Supermarket.When I found myself back before Year 0, and the System wasn't working,I knew that the 'Anything' had worked. I found out that it was goingto be another forty-eight hours before the System would begin to work,so I booked a Lufthansa to New York. It cost me a pretty penny, butmoney would soon become worthless anyway, so I didn't even wince.Why New York, you might ask.Well, the New York Area was going to be amongst the best Areas forme to be in. I wanted to stay in a Megacity, because there would be much more resources and manpower for me to work with, but New Delhiwould be overrun with crime after the System began and the Law Enforcementcould no longer threaten the cartels, and Beijing had several peoplewho might be able to threaten me, even with my knowledge and experience.Now, I had to wait two more hours, after I spent almost five times that amountof time running all over New York to get my supplies. I had double-checked and triple-checked,as well as confirmed with the Internet. There are Subreddits that can getanybody ready for a possible Apocalypse really well. No, really.It was 8.30 PM now. I had rested well, so I bought some pepperoni pizza from one of the thousands of pizza parlors in the city, and began to devour it as I made my way to a nearby subway station. It was going to be my last chance to savour sucha well-made meal.Hmm...It was 8:59 now, and I was sitting inside the train."It should be about now..." I murmur to myself as...[ Welcome, Humans to the System! ]

When I was Level 0, I remember what the Tower had written.[ Worldwide Quest ]Criteria: + Achieve Level 100Rewards: + AnythingI really hope that 'Anything' means what I think it means.[ Current Level: 99 > 100 ][ Congratulations! ]I am now Level 100.However, I don't feel happy.Why?There's nobody whom I can feel happy with.I am the Last Human.[ Rewards for the Worldwide Quest has been sent to Inbox. ]"Open Inbox."[ Inbox ]Anything x 1"Use 'Anything'."[ Confirm? ]"Yes."[ Choose a Wish. ]"I want to go back." I reply.[ Confirm? ]"Yes." I say to myself. "I want to go back."

Dios had quickly integrated into the monster life style. At least the life style of his Aunties and Uncles. Though the attitude and life style of them varied so much that he had to actually divvy out his attention to them.  For his Monkey Uncle Hanuman he would run around the forest like an overbearing young prince. He would challenge the other younger generation to fights. Naturally the fights wouldn't be to deadly or anything. Hanuman's race is called Battle God Monkey.  For his Alligator Aunty Soso Dios would mainly lounge around. Though sometimes she would also teach him the art of the hunt. Sometimes she would force Dios to stay up for days making him study and watch various prey. Though she never made him perform needless murders in order to to keep up the population. Most of he Soul Beasts in the world above a certain age tried to preserve the population. Soso's race was Soul River Alligator.  For his winged, clawed, snake Uncle Ocko Dios mainly lounged around, though occasionally they would fly around the forest. Ocko's real race was called Seraph Serpent.  Those three were the main ones that Dios mainly hung around with as they were the closest to him. Naturally Dios didn't completely incorporate their lives. He cooked his food, slept on a hammock, wore clothes, he also trained brutally. You see, something that most soul beasts don't do is train, mainly because the don't need to. They only really train once they reach 100,000 years of age and turn human.  That day he was training in his weapon techniques. The weapon he was given by Johann was a felling axe that was almost an exact replica of his favorite from his past life.  The axe had a multi wood handle, Dios had personally made the handle in his past life; he used multiple pieces of drift wood and then epoxied them together. He didn't know the exact species of wood, just that they were some dense obscure species from Australia. The axe head was ordered from some dude online who was a blacksmith. He was fairly reputable and the axe head held up even after felling hundreds of trees, with the proper upkeep.  The axe that was given to him by Johann didn't use epoxy but was held together by some unknown material. The entire axe was also covered in some black/gold colored ruins. All the ruins did was make the axe indestructable and incapable of being used by anybody except Dios. Johann also mentioned that the axe would grow in weight as Dios got stronger, that way it's damage would grow.  As he was hitting another tree Hanuman came up while holding his Bo-Staff.  " Hey kiddo, you ready? " " I've cut down six trees today trying to suppress the energy of all of my excitement. What do you think? " " No need to be so dramatic Dios. " " Hehe. " Some may be wondering why Dios was so excited, like a kid the day before his birthday. In reality he was a kid on the day of his birthday, his sixth to be exact. For humans their sixth birthday is the day they awaken their Martial Soul.  " Then follow me nephew. " Dios followed Hanuman to the mountain where Dios lived along with his two uncles and his Aunty. It was also the mountain with his mom's alter and the one where her body was sacrificed to herself.  Hanuman lead Dios to the altar where his other family members.  " HAPPY BIRTHDAY! " Soso, Ocko, and Hanuman all yelled out suddenly. Beasts almost never celebrated, especially ones as old as his family. However they decided since they had a half human in their family they could start up that habit.  " Thanks guys. I really appreciate this. " " No need for all of that Dios, you know we love you. I'm just sorry that your Aunt Cynthia couldn't come by. " At that moment a tall blond woman came out from some bushes and yelled out.  " Who said I didn't come by for my favorite nephew's birthday. " The woman had long, straight, radiant hair that went down to right under her butt. The woman was tall standing at around 6'4". She had a fairly large bust being at least a D-Cup. She had wide hips, perfect for a century when women were seen as nothing except breeding machines. Pair with her milf like hips was a voluptuous shapely butt. The woman was basically a Goddess in human form. The woman was also a hundred-thousand year old beast turned human who was also great friends with Selene, Dioses mom. She had showed up a few months after Selene died and she soon became just as close with Dios as the others.  " I wouldn't miss the day of little boy's awakening even if the entire Soul Hall tried to stop me. " " You do know I'm just as tall as you right? " That's right, Dios despite being only six years old was taller than an average male human. That was obviously thanks to his mother's Titan blood. According to Soso Dios would have his height cap around 10' tall. That was the same height as his father's human-titan form.  " Yeah, but I've known you since you were only four feet tall. And for that you'll always be my little baby boy. " Despite aging six years Dios had only grown two feet, the slow growth rate was likely something from his mothers side of his family. Since most beasts had a slow growth rate.  " Eh I'll take it, even if I'm five feet or more taller than you you can call me what you want. Same goes for when I'm stronger than you. " At that moment Soso who was great friends with Cynthia spoke up.  " Be careful with what you say there Dios, even though I know you'll be strong in the future, Cynthia ain't no push over. " " Hahaha, I can't wait to see the day that you can fight me. " " Anyway, shall we get to the gifts or would you like to do the awakenings first. " " Hmm, let's do the gifts first, the awakening can wait. " Hanuman jumped next to Dios and gave him a gift that instead of wrapping paper was covered in leaves. Wrapping paper was something Dios had introduced to his new family. He had introduced it for his Cynthia's birthday since she was the only other one to actual celebrate her birthday. " Here you go Dios. It's for your axe since you said your grip had been giving you blisters recently. " When he unwrapped it Dios discovered some hair that was shed from Hanuman. It was weaved into a handle to fit on his axe. Hanuman's hair was extremely soft and even more so durable. A great material to make a good grip to prevent blisters. " Little tip though uncle, you shouldn't give obvious hints about your presents. " " I shall keep that in mind kiddo. " The stoic and strict Hanuman nodded, tacking his nephews advice to heart. Everybody there just shook their at the sweetly stoic monkey. That's when Soso pulled out Dios's gift from her.  " Here you go nephew. I hope you enjoy it. " The shape of the leaf covered gift was odd. One end was an almost spherical shape, it was flattish on the top and bottoms though. Connected to the circular shaped end was a triangular shape. Dios could not for the life of him guess what the present was, so he eagerly unwrapped it. The gift was something he never would of guessed.  Soso's gift to Dios was an alligator head modeled after her own head.  " I used my own scales to create the mask. " The mask was Soso's scales glued onto a wood husk. On the inside of the mask was an extremely soft material that would make the mask comfortable to wear.  " Thank you Aunty! " " You're welcome, I remember a few months ago that you mentioned really liking my face, so there you go. "  Dios was wearing a tiger fur skirt around his waist and nothing else, so with the alligator mask on his head made him look like a barbarian.  " Alright my turn! " Ocko was an excitable creature and he could barely wait to give away his gifts. For Dios's third birthday Ocko actually did give Dios his gift early and he ended up feeling so bad that he struggled to get Dios another gift.  Ocko's gift was shaped in a slightly bell shape with a flat top and a wider, but flat bottom. When he grabbed it Dios thought it felt like a blanket. When he unwrapped it Dios discovered another gift he wasn't expecting. Dios was surprised to be surprised twice. One should know that none of his aunts or uncles were creative gift givers.  Ocko's gift was a new skirt/ kilt like thing.  " That is made of my feathers. It will provide a lot more protection than what you have on already. It will also be a lot more suited to battle, less restricting, more fitting the whole nine. "  " Thanks uncle Ocko . . .  So what's going for you all to be giving presents made of you? " One should know that 100,000 year old beasts rarely give out pieces of their body's. So for all three of them to be giving him gifts made of themselves is extremely suspicious. Before any of them could answer however Cynthia spoke up.  " That might be my fault. Dios I am going to be taking you out to be with other humans. You are going to be coming with me to start studying in a school I teach in. " " You teach? I had know idea. " Even though he feigned calmness inside Dios was nervous and slightly scared to leave his aunties and uncles. He was scared to go out into the world without the protection of his insanely powerful aunties and uncles. He was scared to be facing potentially life threatening situations. At the same time he felt some excitement, after all he chose a world where he would face powerful enemies.  " Yes I teach, at a certain academy where I think you'll fit in quite well. " " Do I have any choice in the matter? " Soso spoke up at that point. " Sorry Dios, but we all talked about it and agreed that you need to experience the outside world. " " When will I be allowed to return? " " As often as you want, but you can only stay with us for a total of 1 month out of the year. Also, you have to visit us every year for your birthday. " " . . . Then when do we leave? " " Tomorrow, but enough of that for now we should do your awakening. Follow me to the altar. " Hanuman led Dios to the altar where he proceeded to put his hand on Dios's head. With his hand on his nephew's head Hanuman started injecting his Spirit power into Dios. It took only a few minutes for an astral projection of a massive golden titan to behind him. When he first saw his spirit he thought that he had inherited his father's Golden Titan. All of a sudden however he felt as though he new the name of his titan.  " Pinnacle Physique Titan. " " If you know the name then you should know the natural abilities. Try to search deep in your mind, you should understand it in a few minutes. " Dios according to his instructions tried understanding his Spirits abilities. Like Cynthia had told them it took a few minutes for him to learn the abilities.  " Infinite Potential Physique. This will allow my body to always increase my physical attributes. Apparently I'll be able to match a Titan while in my human form . . . Damn. Then, I have one more active skills. It is Divine Punch, I'll be able to charge up a punch equal to all of my strength, it takes 2 seconds to charge. The punch packs as much . . . Punch hehe. " Everybody cringed.  " It hits harder than a normal full force punch except times ten. " " That was one of your mothers favorite skills, she always used it to make an entrance. Basically she would teleport into the middle of the battle field, she would then Divine Punch the ground. " " Sounds badass! " " It was, she killed many an enemy with a well timed Divine Punch. " After hearing what Cynthia said Dios decided to try out his hand with Divine Punch. He charged the skill for two seconds before slamming it down on the ground below him. That proved to be a stupid move because the ground cracked beneath him making him trip and fall into a bunch of rubble. He fell directly on his butt with a bunch of dust on his body.  " HAHAHA! " Everybody laughed which was extremely scary considering they were all massive scary beasts. An alligator bigger than trees, a monkey about the same size as Dios that could destroy mountains, a snake that sounded like sandpaper sanding wood, and a beautiful woman with a dainty laugh.  " I remember the first time your mom used the skill, she did the exact same thing. " " Yeah that's gonna need some work for it to be effective. " ( I didn't realize that gonna was a real word recognized in the dictionary. ) The five played around all day that day with Dios acting like a spoiled child. He was trying to get in as much time with them as possible before he left for the outside world.  Eventually though they had to sleep and the day after that Dios left.  It wasn't an emotional or dramatic goodbye. Literally Dios woke up, told everybody bye, and was then lead away by Cynthia. 

Dios, Cynthia, and the other students and teachers reached the nearest city that contained a Great Spirit Arena, from there it was a simple matter of finding a hotel, getting room situated and then actually signing up for to fight in the arena. All in all it took three days for the entire procedure to be completed and for the students to be joining in their first battles. Camilla, Augustus, and Alexandra decided to sign up for three on three battles since they had the least amount of battle experience outside of sparring. Dios didn't really have much experience himself fighting humans, but he had fought quite a bit against other beasts.  All four of the students were standing in front of their teachers listening to them give an uplifting speech. " Alright you brats, I've got a lot of money bet on your fights so if you lose it'll be your asses on a platter. " None of the students took Flander's words to heart, they knew it was his version of a pep talk.  " Camilla, Augustus, Alex, you three are up first, remember keep calm, don't freak out and you'll be alright, all of us will be cheering for you from the stands. " It was the motherly Cynthia's words that really pepped the three up for their battle, their already rushing adrenaline seemed to find another boost. The tomboyish Camilla even let out a resounding roar, though one could tell it was from a cute young girl and wasn't at all intimidating.  " Good luck guys, be safe, especially you Augy, you're the weakest. " Dios's weak attempt at a jab was brushed off by Augustus who knew his best friend was just teasing him. Before anybody else could say anything a bell rang signifying it was time for the three to battle.  In the arena stood Camilla in the lead, her Flaming Sword of Legends drawn in a defensive stance. Behind her stood both Alexandra and Augustus, their domains were on and giving the full effects of their buffs, though the only way to tell was the crowns on their heads. Even though the three looked confident and ready anybody with some experience could tell the three were nervous, after all it was their first true fight.  Across from them stood a much more well rounded team, it was two boys and a girl. The girl had a knife in her hand, it was a curved blade that looked slightly reminiscent of a boomerang, meaning it was likely a short and long range weapon, the girl stood in the middle of the two boys. The two boys seemed to be brothers, both had brown hair and eyes and their facial features were very similar, the only way to tell the two apart was their spirits. The first boy standing at the front of the trio had a wooden staff, it didn't look like anything special, but obviously it'd be stupid to underestimate it. The second boy didn't have a weapon, instead he had what looked like a snake wrapped around his shoulders, he was likely the true long range support of the group.  One could tell the difference in experience between the Shrek Team and their enemies, Shrek was nervous almost twitchy. Their enemies however were confident and still, looking straight at the team from Shrek. It would be a tough battle.  The Shrek team was still thinking up strategies when another bell rung signifying the start of the fight. Instantly the girl of the group threw her daggerang1 Mix between dagger and boomerang. , following it was the boy with the wooden staff. The dagger seemed to be headed for Augy and Alex, but the two had enough practice and skill to easily dodge such a obvious attack. They didn't however anticipate a strike from behind from the exact same dagger they had just dodged, true to it's shape the boomerang had flown around and hit Augy in his back. It left quite the nasty scratch, thankfully Alexandra had a healing domain so the scratch closed up in less than a minute.  While the two buffers were dodging the daggerang they were also buffing Camilla who was in quite the intense battle with the bo staff wielding boy. Even though Cam's physical prowess was much higher than the boy's he had way more skill and experience than her. He was able to flow around her heavy strikes and land a few light ones of his own. Luckily they did no damage thanks in part to Alex's domain, but it did drain Camilla's stamina quickly, even with her very good stamina she wouldn't last long.  So she thought back to all those spars she had between her and Dios when he was training with the bo staff2 Remember, Cynthia forced Dios to learn how to fight with multiple weapons including a bo staff., his already greater reach was made more deadly with the addition of the staff. Once she remembered her fights though, Camilla also remembered how to combat a staff user. Camilla desummoned her sword and then jumped right into close quarters combat, before the boy knew what had happened she resummoned her sword and smashed the boy in the side. It wasn't the most effective strike, but good enough. She didn't see that up in the stands Dios was nodding his head in appreciation, he remembered all the times Camilla had gotten him with the very same tactic. After all, it wasn't something one would usually expect when in the midst of battle. Once she had her opening Cam went in and started wailing on the bo staff boy, within five hits he was knocked out of the arena. That left two more people for the Shrek team to deal with.  The snake boy who had been just watching summoned his snake to help support his female teammate who jumped into close quarters, her long range attacks had been doing nothing to the King siblings. The daggerang user when in close range used a lot of short swipes and stabs when fighting, basically she was the complete opposite of poor Camilla who had no experience in that sort of battle. While the female enemy was holding up Camilla the snake had been sent to start attacking the King siblings, it targeted Augustus. The snake boy had no reason for targeting Augy, he couldn't tell which of their domains did what so he left it up to luck, he just hoped Augustus was the one healing.  The snake was a constrictor type, it tried wrapping around Augustus's legs and tripping him up. Thankfully he had many months of training with Dios under his belt, so even though his fitness wasn't as high as Dios's it was definitely above average. That meant he was able to jump over and dodge any trapping attempts by the snake, unfortunately it realized that and changed up it's tactic.  It feinted going for Alex and when Augustus was about to yell and warn her, the snake striked. It bit right onto Augustus's arm leaving it bloody and mangled. Instantly every body from Shrek Academy became enraged, Dios in particular seemed to grow an extra foot from his muscles bulging in anger. The metal rails he'd been gripping became more mangled than Augy's arm.  Dios had really connected with the other students after spending years with them, Augustus in particular was Dios's best friend. So to see his friend be hurt so badly, Dios wanted to literally tear the snake in half On the battlefield both Camilla and Alexandra were freaking out, they had never seen their friend and brother so hurt. Alex tried her best to pump up the healing powers of her domain, it didn't have much an effect, but it did seem to heal slightly quicker. Camilla herself was freaking out trying to untangle herself from the bitch attacking her. She tried her best to get at the snake but every move she made was blocked by the daggerang woman.  Unfortunately Camilla's rage allowed her enemy to get in multiple quick shallow strikes. The cuts and stabs weren't dangerous but they definitely hurt, little stings that made it difficult to move.  Behind Camilla, Alexandra was doing her best to kill the snake. She was sitting on it's back with her hands trying to hold the damn thing down. Unfortunately the snake was extremely strong, it could easily lift up Alexandra, even though she was strong for her age she was still a tiny little girl. She ended up wrapping her hands around its fat head, even though she couldn't keep the damn thing down she could prevent it from biting her, her brother, or Camilla. Thankfully she wasn't needed in battle, all she had to do was put out Spirit Energy and her job was done. Alex holding down her snake gave Augy enough time to recuperate, he was able to take of his shirt and wrap around the snake bite, didn't want it bleeding out after all.  Camilla in the meantime had distanced herself from the dagger wielding bitch, before she could be followed she swung her flaming sword. Out of her claymore shot a flaming blade, the blade went straight for the female wielding the dagger. The enemy dodged, but Camilla was counting on that, the young redhead was running behind her flying strike. The bright flames blocked her enemies view of her, the dagger girl dodged right to the right of the flaming strike; she dodged right into the flat side of Camilla's claymore which was being swung right at her.  From there Camilla used only three strikes to drive her fellow female off the arena. From there the three from Shrek made quick work of the arrogant snake guy. " And there we have it! The Shrek rookies won their very first match. " " WOOHOO YES! " Camilla brought Augustus into a big ol' hug, even more surprisingly she kissed him. A big moist kiss right on the lips. Poor Augustus was left a blubbering mess when Camilla broke the kiss off. Up in the stands Dios was laughing his ass off seeing the situation between Camilla and Augustus, he knew it had only been a matter of time before the two got together. He also knew that Camilla would of been the one to initiate the relationship, it was obvious she would wear the pants in the relationship.  The three Shrek rookies came back up into the stands, a bunch of the people congratulated the trio on their way to Dios and the teachers. When the did finally reach the rest of Shrek Academy Camilla ran up to Cynthia.  " Did you see that teacher‽ We fucking kicked their asses. " " Yes I did, very good job Camilla. I'm so proud of you.  Cynthia brought the young red headed girl into a hug. Over the years the students had connected well with the teachers of Shrek academy, especially Cynthia who was the motherly figure of the group. This was especially true for Camilla who was an orphan adopted into the academy by Cynthia, truthfully Cynthia had talked to Dios a few times about adopting the young red head.  While that heartwarming scene was going on Dios was talking to Augustus and Alexandra. " Great job guys, especially you tiger, getting the girl like that! HAHAHA. " Augustus blushed when Dios brought up the kiss, Dios and his sister laughed/ giggled at the usually stoic boy's blush.  " How's you arm? " " It's alright, Alex's healing has basically fixed it for the most part, there is just a little soreness left. " " That's good, it seems we're going to have to increase your dodging training though, after all you should of seen that snake bite coming. " Augustus paled at the mention of dodging training, why? Because Dios's definition of dodging training is him pelting rocks at you as hard as he could. Of course he didn't aim for anywhere fatal or places that could cause permanent damage, but none the less it hurts when a titan throws rocks at you.  " No need for that friend, I was just distracted is all. " " Oh, then I guess I should increase your awareness training. " If it was possible Augustus somehow went even more pale, Dios's version of awareness training is him blind folding you and then attacking with a whip, somehow it was even more torturous than his dodging training. " Relax Augy, I'm just messing with you, to be honest I'm very proud of you, and you Alexandra, both of you were very brave and clever while on the field. " The two siblings shot Dios beaming smiles, Dios's classmated truly relished his praise since he was essentially the big brother of the group, mainly from the maturity and life experience he carried over from his last life.  " Saying that however, I will need to discuss with Cynthia some way for you guys to defend yourselves while on the battlefield, it really worries me you two not having anyway of defending yourselves. " Dios had thought quite a bit about a way for Augustus and Alexandra to defend themselves, his first thought had been Tang San, but he wouldn't show up for another year and Dios had no way of making his own hidden weapons. His second idea had been taming beasts, but it was beyond difficult to tame any over 100 years old.  " Enough of that talk for now Dios, it's time for these three to relax while you wait for your battle to start. " It was Cynthia that lightly admonished Dios, she realized his feelings as the father of the group, and she liked that he was like that, but sometimes he would worry to much.  " Yeah you're right Cyn. Bring it in guys, I'm proud of you. " Dios wrapped his massive arms around the three tiny preteens, all four had smiles on their faces. Sadly the only witness to the heartwarming scene was Cynthia, the other teachers and Flander were betting more money on Dios's fight. Around thirty minutes later it was time for Dios to show his thunder. He stood up and was prepared to enter the arena, before he could however, Cynthia pulled him into a soft warm embrace. Somehow she always made Dios feel reassured despite only covering a small bit of his body. " Good luck Dios, I'm rooting for you. " In reality Cynthia had no reason to be nervous, Dios on physical strength alone could romp somebody ten cultivation levels higher than him, let alone somebody at the same level. None the less, nobody had discovered the limit of Awakened Souls power/ limits, there were legends of people who just awakened being able to slay 1,000 year old beasts. Of course those were legends, but it didn't dispute the fact that their were people who could rival Dios's power while at a similar cultivation level to him. On the arena Dios was standing across from a short stocky woman, she was blonde with large breats and wipe hips, truthfully she was pretty damn sexy and just Dios's type. If it wasn't for the fact that she was a total butter face. " Battle start! " Dios's opponent instantly jumped backwards, many didn't know why until they saw Dios's axe swing by where her head just was. Everybody was amazed, not only at Dios's speed that defied his massive size, but also at his opponents near precognitive response to his attack. It truly looked like she saw the future to some of the people in the stands since she had moved before Dios had, least that's what it looked like, in reality Dios had moved first, but he left an after image that distracted the audience.  In that small time frame Dios realized his enemy would be formidable, so he decided to try and suss her out. " That was a pretty quick response, I'm surprised. " " That so? " " Yeah, it's not often people can dodge my attacks. " " Then I'll take that as a compliment, now are we going to talk like sissies or are we gonna fight? " Dios giggled as a response, and before anybody could tell he was already swinging his axe at his enemy, he sent swung 20 times in quick succession, each swing was as fast as his first. His speed alone was surprising, what was even more surprising than that was his enemy was able to dodge each and every strike. Every time Dios though he sealed off her escape she was able to wiggle her way out.  Since he wasn't getting anywhere Dios decided to change it up, he fainted a swing with his axe and when his enemy bent backwards to dodge he shot out his left hand grabbing her. As soon as she was in his grip Dios threw her towards the edge of the arena, he didn't want to cause her needless pain.  His enemy however had different plans, in mid air she activated her spirit, and in less than a second of it's activation tree roots grew out of the ground and stopped her. Before Dios could try and gain back his advantage his enemy went on the offensive, she the arena was instantly covered in tree roots that grew from the ground. Dozens of the roots surrounded Dios trying to trap him. They did cover him for a worrisome second, that second however was all Dios needed to flex his muscles and literally rip the roots off of him with pure muscle strength.  The entire audience except those from Shrek academy were scared speechless, after all, it isn't every day you see someone who can literally rip wood apart. While everybody including his enemy was stunned Dios got in a punching position and stayed in it for a full two seconds, before anybody could even question what he was doing Dios punched the ground full power. Dios could of brought the entire building down had he wanted to, but instead he concentrated his power to only the arena, the vibrations and upturning ground caused his enemy to be thrown out of the arena.  After a rich three seconds of pure silence the entire arena erupted out in deafening cheers, so loud were the cheers that the arena vibrated slightly. Of course it was Cynthia that was cheering the loudest, after all that was her man that was being cheered for. Back in their hotel the Shrek academy people were celebrating, after all, the student all did amazingly for their first battles. 3Only Cynthia knows about Dios fighting beasts from when he lived in the forest with his aunts and uncles. After all, that kind of information isn't something that should be given out. " Kids, you did good, and I'm proud of you, but don't let these victories get to your head. Right now I want you three to think of what you did wrong and try to think of ways to fix them. Dios you first. " " Yes deam, my biggest problem was that I threw my enemy off the arena, I didn't take into account her spirit allowing her to gain an advantage. I could of knocked her out before throwing her, or had this been a real battle, kill her. " The other kids gasped, but the teachers all nodded.  " Kids, this isn't a forgiving world, people will happily kill you if it means the slightest benefit for them. I want you to keep that in mind for the future. " The kids all nodded, but they didn't actually heed their dean's words, they were still to young and innocent. Dios, knew the true state of the world and was fully prepared to kill if it meant protecting himself or his friends and family. " My other big problem was my height, it made it way to hard for me to hit my enemy. I might have a solution to that tonight however. " " Good Dios, you seem to have put some thought into this. Augustus, since you were the one who got hurt I want you to answer this time. " Augy seemed to contemplate for a couple seconds, likely thinking of how he would word his answer.  " I had a couple of glaring mistakes, first I let my guard down when the snake pretended to be done with me, had I remained vigilant I could have dodged. Dios has already offered to increase my awareness training, and I'm inclined to agree. " The teachers gasped quitely with wide eyes, even they knew the pain of Dios's brutal training.  " I also had no way of protecting myself, once again Dios has offered to give me some weapons training, but that doesn't completely solve the weapons problem. No matter how strong I get or how skilled with weapons I am, any good attacked focus soul master could handle me. " " I have actually been thinking about how you and Alex will be able to protect yourselves in battle. I have a pretty good idea, but it'll require some testing, Cynthia and I'll will probably be gone for around a month testing. " Cynthia knew he was going to be trying to find a way to bring some tamed beasts out of the space.  " Then after you have won a sufficient amount of battles here you two can go and do whatever it is you want to test. Alex your turn. " " Similar to Augy, though I didn't get attacked I probably would have made the same mistake. With the snake, I don't know of any ways I could of dealt with it better, it's scales were very strong so I probably couldn't of pierced it even with a weapon. Any ideas. " Dios would of let Cynthia or one of the other teachers answer, but they all looked at him. Clearly they wanted to keep the discussion and answers between the students.  " . . . Your idea to restrain it was pretty good, but putting it into action wasn't that great. You literally jumped on it and wrapped your arms around it's head and mouth. If you had a whip, or maybe some other proper way to restrain it then that would of been better, I'd say a whip or a net or something. Of course, nets are inconvenient to carry around and surprisingly difficult to use mid battle, though I have come up with a few ideas on how to do it. That idea is manipulating your Soul Power into strings of some sort, then connecting them to key places on the net, that will allow you to manipulate it the net without actually touching it. Apart from that, I would like to up your training, flexibility and speed training would be best, you're petite and small, not built for power like your brother. " Naturally the teachers, including Diantha, and students were shocked by Dios's rather radical idea; some people didn't know that Soul Power could be manipulated outside of the body let alone be used for battle. For Dios to think of such an ingenious method was beyond remarkable, it was extraordinary. What they didn't know was that Dios had simply borrowed the idea from works of fiction in his previous life and adapted to his new one. 4 I was thinking of Puppet Masters from Naruto with this idea. It's fairly similar anyway. " There are of course problems with that method. For one is the absurd amount of Spirit Power you'd be burning on top of you King's Domain. Then there is the matter of control, you'd have to practice for months, maybe years to get proficient at manipulating your spirit power outside of your body. " " . . . Then, uhh, Cynthia, when you have time I want you to try and bring Dios's idea to reality, both of you can brain storm while Dios is battling in the Spirit Arena, and when you two leave for a month after that you can try and actually practice the idea. " " Yes dean! "  Cynthia was naturally excited, after all her boyfriend had just created a battle method that could potentially revolutionize battle tactics for Support Type battle master. In the past they used to sit back in the sidelines not really doing much, despite usually having the best control and sometime capacity of spirit power. However, if Dios's idea worked, Support Type Spirit Masters could become the new attack type. Cynthia could imagine it already, hundreds of Support Types all buffing themselves while controlling a multitude of weapons, they could destroy armies of Attack and Defense Type Spirit Masters.  " Good, then Camilla it's your turn to discuss what you could of done better. " " There was a lot I could of done better. First, my battle control was pretty lack luster, I should of been able to help Augy and Alex to deal with the snake. I also need a way to deal with fast small targets who are hard to hit with my Claymore. If I could fix the second problem my first problem would also be mostly solved. The only thing I can think of to fix my second problem would be to get better sword skills, maybe adopt a second weapon, perhaps a dagger. " Dios knew that everybody wanted him to answer, so he didn't hesitate to speak.  " Honestly, I have no idea, the only idea I could think of would be to develop a special technique or something of the sort. Something similar to my Divine Punch, some kind of attack skill that will let you attack even without your claymore. If you'd like to brainstorm ideas I'm available at almost anytime, these next few months would be ideal since you'll be able to test your ideas in battle. " " Thank you Dios. " " All right kids, great job today, now make sure you celebrate tonight. "  That night Shrek Academy partied harder than Dios's muscles. 

Dios really had quite a love hate relationship with Shrek Academy the first few months he was there. Shrek Academy had only three students other than Dios. So the four students were the target of all of the teachers sadistic training regimes.  Dios in particular was the target of his aunt's training. She pushed him extremely hard in his physical training. She also pushed him to train with weapons. Not only his axe, but she made him learn to fight swords, hammers, staves, hand to hand, and even bows & arrows. Even though regular weapons weren't necessarily common on the Combat Continent, it never hurt to learn how to combat them.  Dios schedule went like this.  Wake up at 4 a.m. Eat a large nutritional breakfast Martial Arts training Eat Scholarly learning Brutal physical training Eat Weapons training ( practice a different weapon in rotation each day ) Shower Cultivation Soul World Sleep ( for around four hours ) He did of course have a bit of down time each day along with 1 day to himself each week. Usually that day would be spent with either Cynthia or one of the other students. Which was what he was doing that particular day.  " So when are you going hook up Claymore? Everybody and their mother knows you two are into each other. " " When are you going to make some moves on Cynthia? " " That's my aunt! " " A, not by blood. B, you've already told me that one of your favorite fetishes is incest. " The boy that Dios was bantering around with was one of his fellow students. His name was Augustus King. He was 8 years old, shiny black hair that he kept slicked black. He was pale like a vampire and was tall for his age, he was also a bit on the lanky side, though he had tense muscles that would stay hidden under his usually baggy clothes. Augustus shared a martial spirit with his twin sister Alexandra King. Their spirit is the Emperor's Crown.  What the Emperor's Crown does is it makes a domain around the user, the domains can buff allies who are inside of it while nerfing enemies. In return for the large coverage it takes quite a bit of Spirit Power. For every Soul Ring the user gains another domain that can be stacked with the one before it. Augustus focused on buffing attacks and physical strength and nerfing the same. Alexandra focused on buffing speed and healing while nerfing speed.  The two had become good friends only a week or two after Dios joined the school.  " Anyway, I don't think aunty would actually go for me. She was great friends with my mom and I imagine it would be really awkward if I actually tried anything on her. " " Yeah I guess. Anyway you wanna get dinner then get back? " " Sure. " The two then sped up their steps. While they were walking down the streets the two boys saw two laughing girls. Both of them were around 8-9 years old and were laughing loudly. The girls were the other two students from Shrek Academy. One of the girls was Alexandra King and the other was Camilla Claymore.  Alexandra had bluish black hair similar to her brothers, but she kept hers a lot longer. Her hair was actually modeled after Cynthia's, except instead of having her hair hang she had it in a pony tail. She kept her bangs the same though. She was also pale, but she was a bit shorter than her brother, still tall her age. Since she was still young she wasn't developing much as a woman yet, but give it a few years.  Camilla was nine years old and she had bright red hair that she kept in a short ponytail. She had quite a few freckles that added quite a bit to her cuteness. She looked like she always had a big ol' grin on her face that showed off one of her missing teeth. She was also underdeveloped in her feminine areas as well.  " Hey girls! What are you two doing? " " Huh, oh hey guys. Alex and I were just shopping for some clothes and were just about to get some dinner. " " Same, you want to join us? " "" Sure/ Yeah sure. "" The four went off in search of dinner. Eventually after a bunch of back and forth the four settled on one of the more popular street stalls.  " So what were you guys doing out today? " " We were just using our break day today. Figured we would just walk around today. What about you two? " " Same thing as you guys, and as we said earlier buying clothes. " The four talked for an hour or so while eating. Dios ate six sandwiches while the other three ate one or two at most.  " Anyway we're heading back, you girls want to walk with us. " " I'm good, I'm going to be doing more clothes shopping. " " I'm with her. " " Alright, see ya, be careful . " " You too. " " Bye sis love you. " " See ya bro, love you too. " The pair of pairs then walked their separate ways, Dios and Augustus in the direction of the academy. Camilla and Alexandra in the direction of more clothes deals.  " Aunty I'm home! " Dios shared a house with Cynthia that was situated on the outer area of the Shrek Academy property. It was fairly nice especially when compared to the rest of the academy buildings. Obviously the two had separate rooms, they also had separate bathrooms.  " I'm in the living room. " Dios took off his shoes and then walked into the living room. The room had actually been set up by Dios who had created not only the furniture, but the layout as well.  He had a long crescent couch in the middle of the room. In the middle of the couch was a large half circle table that was a solid dark wood. Along the edge of the the wall closest to the window was a table the went the entire length of the wall. On the opposite wall in front of the couch were three bookshelves that covered the entire wall. The bookshelves were packed with books with a few laying on the ground in front of them.  Cynthia was half laying half sitting on the couch reading a book. She was wearing loose dress clothes without any socks on letting her pale, larger than average feet be free. Her radiant golden hair hung down over the side of the couch. Dios could very much appreciate the pure beauty that was that scene.  " How was your day Dios? " " Same as any other day off. Woke up, ate a little food, went to the town with Augy ( Augustus ), played around for a few hours, had dinner with him and the girls, then came here. It's always so boring. " When he finished saying that he plopped right down onto the couch next to Cynthia.  " I forgot that you are still in that depressed, everything's boring phase. We need to get you a girlfriend, one of the girls maybe. " " Only a few problems with that. 1, they're eight and I'm nearly thirty. 2, it'll be quite a few years before we are able to do anything more than kiss and cuddle. And 3, I'm into older women, as in at least ten years older. " " Oh you poor baby, come cry on aunties shoulder. " Dios cried crocodiles onto her shoulder. At that point both Dios and Cynthia fell into a fit of giggles.  " Alright, alright, I'm still hungry you want anything? I'll cook. " Cynthia instantly perked up at mention of Dios cooking food.  " I always want food when you're cooking. " " Hehe, any requests? " " Umm. OOO! I want chicken fried rice and stir fry. " " Coming right up. " Dios then waved his hand and out came a living chicken and multiple vegetables. Dios had discovered a couple things about his wish granted powers during his few months at Shrek Academy. He could store living creatures in his infinite space ring and they would be frozen in time. Meaning he could store ingredients and even certain animals in the ring. Though nothing that could cultivate meaning no spirit plants or animals could stay in the ring.  He could also pull any plants or animals that he had put in his soul space out of it. The best thing about that was that any plants or animals he had put in the space were basically injected with soul power. So anything he put in there was forced to cultivate making whatever he put in the soul space better. The plants and animals he put in there were made to be healthier and a lot better tasting.  And so, Dios started cutting up all of the ingredients. He first started with the vegetables, putting all the individual ingredients into tiny bowls. He then moved onto the chicken, defeathering it, cutting it open, taking out all of the guts, and then cutting the individual pieces he wanted.  After that he got to actually cooking everything. Dios had also designed the kitchen inside of Cynthia's house. He made it look similar to a modern kitchen, though for the most part it functioned in a way similar to extremely basic electric ovens.  Dios used an extremely large skillet to cook all the food all at once. Thirty minutes or so later ( I have no idea how long it takes to cook fried rice and stir fry ) Dios walked back into the living room carrying to large bowls as large as an average human head. In size, length, and depth.  " Here you are smuk dame, please enjoy. " " What'd you call me‽ " " Smuk Dame, means beautiful lady. " " Oh, I could get used to that. "  " I have a few different ways of saying that. I memorized the term beautiful lady in a few different languages. I wanted to use it to pick up girls, but look at what that got me. " " Aww, poor wittle Dios. Couldn't get a widdle girlfriend? " " Exactly, I mean you should of seen me, I might not have been the tallest nor could I grow a beard, but I was a total package. Buff, rich, and not to toot my own horn I was quite the handsome fellow. " " Let it all out, aunty Cynthia is here, just release it all. " " You know it's kind of mean to tease and poke fun at someone who is forever alone. " " Oh stop being so dramatic, you'll always have me and all your other aunts and uncles. Anyway, thanks for the food, I think I'm going to be hitting the hay. " " Night aunty. " " Night, love you. " " Love you. " After that Cynthia walked into her bedroom, yawning and scratching her tummy. Dios despite not being tired went to his room as well. Once in there Dios stripped to his skivvies and then lied down onto his bed.  A few minutes after laying down Dios who had his eye's closed felt a sudden wave dizziness and then all of a sudden he was in a forest. That was how he entered his Soul Space.  Dios's Soul Space when looked at from above looked quite unnatural. It was a perfect square with four tinier squares inside of it. The squares were biomes, the biomes were, a forest, an ocean, a mountainous region, and a volcanic region. There was also a sky city where a bunch of birds and some other flying creatures lived, it was above the four biomes, but it was situated right in the middle of the regions. Dios had his territory situated in the forest since that was the area he enjoyed spending his time most. It was also the best place for his plants and the animals he had brought into the soul space.  Dios's territory didn't look like anything special. Matter of fact it looked like a wild garden with a bunch of plants growing. Underground however, Dios had quite the operation going on.  He had a dozen different areas sectioned off where he kept his different animals. He also had some extra large areas for animals that were rare or talented.  But all of that didn't matter instead Dios sat criss cross apple sauce on the ground and started cultivating. His cultivation technique basically made him absorb energy into his soul veins, which is where Soul Energy is stored. He then controls that energy into waves which makes it condense together. Before it disperses inside of his veins Dios has to absorb more energy. If he does it well enough he could condense the energy well enough that his cultivation doesn't technically increase. Though he could make it to where it does increase, quite quickly to be honest. Condensing energy basically allows Dios to have as much energy as someone multiple cultivation levels above him despite not being at that level. It also allows any special moves, like his mother's teleport, to be more effective having more power or longer range.  It was like that, that Dios would usually spend his days inside of the Soul Space. He would also go around searching for a decent Soul Beast to kill. Even if he didn't kill the creatures he would battle them to get battle experience.  After he cultivated for a few hours, which would have been an entire day in the real world; Dios went out of the forest. Specifically he went to the mountainous region since that was the area he had explored the least.  He traveled while holding his axe, sometimes he would hop into a tree and watch animals walk under him. He also took care to avoid certain areas where particularly strong beasts, or beast clans lived. Eventually after a day or so Dios arrived at the mountainous region.  Dios basically had the entire border regions and quite a few miles inwards mapped out. So he took a quick peek at his map and then followed a rough trail towards a specific mountain.  According to some of the flying beasts that he had tamed and brought into his soul space; there was a humanoid titan like monster on that specific mountain. The monster despite not being particularly tall like most titans was very bulky and quite muscular. It also carried around a spear. ( By tamed I don't mean he used his pokeball's on them by the way, I mean tamed in a traditional sense of the word. ) Eventually after another day or so of travel Dios reached the mountain, but he didn't immediately start searching for the monster. He instead tied up a hammock to two trees and went to sleep.  Dios woke up silently inside of his hammock. He opened his eyes a fraction and looked around. Once he saw nothing that could potentially threaten his life he hopped down and untied his hammock.  After that he started exploring the mountain. The mountain that Dios was exploring was quite the tropical paradise considering it didn't seem to be in a tropical region. It had palm trees, springs that came from the top of the mountain all the way to the very base, it was even quite humid. Enough to make Dios's hair frizzle.  Dios ran through the trees like a tiger chasing it's sibling . . . To rip out it's throat and eat it's fur and flesh. Even though he running fairly quickly Dios kept an eye open for anything that looked slightly humanoid.  And eventually that pulled through because he saw what looked like a body builder tan, almost black skin. It was a bald dude with his only clothing being fur wrapped around his waist. The man was carrying a large spear.  Dios instantly ran up to the 8' tall man who stood at least a foot taller than himself. His spear shaft was about 7.5' tall while the spear head was .5' in length. ( The ' means feet by the way. ) Dios ran up behind the man and with a heavy axe swing aimed right for his head. The swing was the traditional type of swing that one would use to split a log.  Last second though the tan man took a step forward which meant that Dios's axe only left a long cut along the length of his back.  The man spun around while stabbing at Dios with the head of his spear. Before it could stab into Dios's throat our young hero used the butt of his axe to deflect the spear. The tan man fell through on his momentum which left Dios get a quick punch on the mans esophagus. Before the man could even start wheezing Dios used the butt of his axe to hit the back of the mans neck. The tan monster fell onto the ground while gripping it's throat. Dios obviously wouldn't let such an opportunity go and instantly did another traditional wood cutting swing, this time on the monsters head. The monster's head split open revealing it's brain goop and all the nastiness. Not even a second later a light yellow ring popped up above the tan monsters body.  ( I know this fight scene was a tad lack luster, but keep in mind that Dios is still fairly weak, able to fight a thousand year beast at most. While the humanoid monster was only a few hundred years old. The fight scenes should eventually get more and more wild, also I felt like this way was more realistic. ) Dios naturally knew how to absorb the Soul Ring so he sat down Indian Style and started to absorb it. Considering how young the ring was it took only a few minutes for Dios to summon the soul ring. The instant he absorbed the ring he instinctively knew his ability. His soul ring ability is called Bulk Up. ( I didn't know whether to go for past or present tense when introducing his ability. Past seems like it would have been better grammar, but it didn't sound as right as present tense. I don't know. ) Bulk Up when used would make Dios's muscles increase in power by 10%, when at 100 years. At 1,000 years it would increase his power by 20%. 10,000 would increase his power by 40%. 100,000 would increase his power by 70%. And then at 1,000,000 years Dios's power would increase by 110%.  After that Dios spent his remaining month adding time to his newest soul ring and cultivating.        If ya'll have any ideas on Dios's or Camilla's future soul ring abilities feel free to leave a comment. 

Dean Smith was slowly making his way along the mountain trail, he had his felling axe in one hand, resting on his shoulder while in his other hand was his camera and tripod. He had just finished making his latest video of him cutting a tree. Now some might think he was a lumber jack who filmed himself doing his job or maybe an informational Youtuber posting his hobby on the internet. In reality he was actually a really niche pornstar. Basically what he did was he would do various " manly " jobs that usually involved a uniform and hard labor. Apparently a lot of women and gay dudes liked to see a man hard at work in a uniform. One of Dean's most popular types of videos was lumberjacking, they were also a personal favorite of his. Dean chuckled a little while thinking of his odd situation. Sadly however that slight lapse of concentration made him kick a root effectively tripping him. He fell down the small hill that was to the side of the trail. He fell probably 150 " on the downwards slope, he hit rocks, root, and bushes. Even though they all hurt they also slowed him down. Thanks to that he would of lived falling down the hill, that is if it wasn't for the fact that his axe cut him some time during the fall. It didn't do immense damage, all it did was a little knick. That small knick just so happened to knick a major artery. He slowly bled out a the bottom of the hill, wet, dirty, and sticky. Honestly if he had been photographed the picture would of sold well in the snuff community. Sadly he hadn't been found until 14 days later and he was already stiff, pale, and partly eaten by bugs, maggots mainly. But, none of that was of Dean's concern, he was much more concerned about the odd space he ended up the instant he died. The space, looked like, space, Dean could see celestial bodies, Galaxies, even odd looking creatures that Dean couldn't tell whether they were live or dead. All of a sudden a middle aged man popped up in front of Dean. The man was borderline handsome, but he wasn't quite there yet. He had black combed back hair with occasional gray hairs, he had wrinkles on the corners of his eyes hinting at a long life. He was wearing a robe blocking Dean from being able to make a good guess towards his body, however from what little Dean could see the man was fairly buff. Wide shoulders, straight back, the whole nine. " Hello Dean Smith, I am Johann Culhan. ( Pronounced Yo-Han Coolh-An ) You died and so I am in charge of your reincarnation. I will grant you three wishes. Use them wisely. " Dean who looked the same as before he died except for the fact that instead of legs he had a cloud in place of them; rubbed his chin, as though he had a beard, but he didn't. That was one of his greatest dislikes about himself, he was never able to grow a beard, beyond pubes on his face. " Do all souls get reincarnate? If so do we all get three wishes? " " Yes all souls reincarnate, though few have a God look over it. And the only time a soul gets wishes is when the God sacrifices a bit of their power for that soul. A God could choose to do so for any number of reasons. " " Why are you granting me wishes? " " . . . You seem pretty calm in this situation. Considering you just died and met a God, I don't recall you being a religious human who anticipated reincarnation. " " I'm not, wasn't. Don't get me wrong I believed in reincarnation but I didn't anticipate it. I don't have a reason for my calmness, I just am. " " Hm, well anyway the reason I am seeing over your reincarnation and giving you wishes is because you helped me achieve true love. " Dean gave Johann a skeptical look that hinted for him to proceed with his explanation. " Alright, a little backstory. I was a God who couldn't find true love, I was always made fun of for it and was even voted as one of the top three God's to remain forever alone, literally. Anyway one of the Goddesses of Love and Fate told me that I have a potential mate on Earth. After a few years of searching I discovered a certain Demi-God on Earth, I knew the instant I saw her that she was the one. Anyway I tried for years to convince her to marry me to no avail. That is until I found out she was an avid watcher of your . . . Videos. So I created a human form based on your body, tweaking some stuff here and there. Eventually I convinced her to marry me and move to the God realm with me and we've been happy ever since. " " Well, congratulations! Good luck in the future. " " Thank you, thank you. So what are your wishes? "" Eh-eh, before that I want to ask some questions. First, what's the difference between Gods and Demi-Gods, second, can I choose to reincarnate as a God, and third, can I wish for infinite wishes. " " A Demi-God is a being that is the product of two Gods mating. They are technically mortal, the only thing really setting them apart is that Demi-Gods will be smarter, stronger, and generally just better. They can become full God's when they are brought to the God Realm by a God, they also have to reach a certain level of power. No you cannot choose to reincarnate as a God, but you can be reincarnated as a Demi-God. If you wanted then I could hold your soul in stasis until I get my wife pregnant then you could be reincarnated as our baby. " Dean seemed put off by the offer, at the same time he was flattered though. His emotions were very conflicted on a whole variety of levels. After all if he took up the offer he would be the child of two Gods, but he would also be the reason his parents got together which was a put off. Before Dean could sink further into his thoughts Johann continued speaking. " And, no, you cannot wish for infinite wishes. " " Can I wish for extra wishes? " " Maybe, maybe not. " " . . . Then I wish you would tell me how many extra wishes I can wish for. " Johann raised his slightly bushy eyebrows, clearly surprised by Dean's boldness. " Are you sure? You could be wasting a wish here. " " I'm sure. I have always been a bold person, slightly stupid as well. So, get on with it. " " ' Sigh ' Fine, you can wish for ten extra wishes. " " YES! WWWWOOOOO! Give me those ten extra wishes! " " Granted. " After Dean eventually settled down into a deep calm he started contemplating his wishes. Only Johann could tell how long Dean contemplated his wishes. " For my first wish I want to be reincarnated into the Douluo Dalu world during the same time as Tang San and the others. " " Granted. " One might not expect it from his dumb jock like exterior, but Dean really enjoyed reading. Web novels in particular. One of his favorite novels was the Douluo Dalu novels. " For my second wish I want Three martial souls, then use my third wish to to make them all the best suited strongest spirits for me. " " I can't do that. I can either give you three mostly random souls that are mostly suited to you. Or I can give you one extremely strong soul that is perfectly suited to you. " " Oh, then I want my second wish to be having my Martial Soul being extremely strong and perfectly suited to me. " " Granted. " Since he had his first two, wishes out of the way Dean then started thinking of what else he wanted. He thought about his past life and any regrets he had from it. A realization for his third and fourth wish dawned upon him.  " For my third wish I want to be born into a loving and close family. One that will love and dote upon me. " Dean in his early life had been in a fairly loving family, but his mother, father, and sister all died in a house father. So from the time he was 6 till the time he was 18 Dean was passed around from foster family to foster family. Sometimes it wasn't so bad, other times he would be treated like a slave or beaten. Something that Dean always missed was the true love of a family.  Johann's eye's glazed over for a second before he gained a maniacal grin on his face.  " I have the perfect family for you, granted. " Dean became slightly nervous at Johann's shady behavior, but shrugged it off.  " For my fourth wish I want you to set me up with a perfect love interest, someone I can spend eternity with. " " Sorry kid, but Love isn't my domain so I can't set something like that up. I could set you up with a girl who is perfect body wise, but that's as far as I can go. " " Naw, forget about it. I guess since I got the mushy stuff out of the way I should get to the fun stuff. For my fourth wish I want a separate space that I can enter. The space will have Soul Beasts that I can kill to gain their Soul Rings. I also want to be able to bring other Soul Beasts into that space along with plants. " " Granted. The Soul world will be a place you can enter once a day and stay in there for a month. It'll be an hour in the real world. You can make out territory in that space. There will be 10 year beasts up to million year beasts in the space. The strong beasts can raid your territory, but they can't attack you unless you provoke them. In the space you'll be able to train martial skills, and your physical body. Usually you'll not be able to bring other humans into the Soul Space nor will you be able to bring native Soul Beasts out of the Soul Space. If you die in your Soul Space you won't be allowed to enter for a month. " " Sweet. Then for my fifth wish I want a cultivation technique that will suit me and my Martial Spirit perfectly. " " Granted. " " For my sixth wish I want to be able to add age to my Soul Rings by killing Beasts in my Soul Space. " " Hmm. " Dean became slightly nervous hearing Johann's hesitation, but relaxed when the God of Reincarnation said.  " Granted. " " ' Fwooh ' Then for my seventh wish I want . . . " Dean actually had to think for awhile trying to think of something. He didn't want to make himself to horribly over powered, but he still wanted to be strong. He had been focusing on personal power for the most, he decided he wanted a weapon or accompanying item. As he followed that a secondary power train of thought he soon got to thinking of training monsters. That lead him to one of his favorite childhood cartoons. Pokemon. That thought quickly excited him and he rushed out with his seventh wish.  " For my seventh wish I want Poke Balls. And I want to be able to capture Soul Beasts like Pokemon. " " Fucking weaboo. ' Sigh ' Granted. In order to use them you have to kill a soul beast and then use a Poke Ball on it's Soul Ring. You're guaranteed to capture the beast, but in return the beast will be reverted to a ten year age. You can train it by having killing other Soul Beasts and having it absorb Soul Rings. The age of the ring it absorbs is the of age gained. You can have a maximum of six captured beasts on your person. Oh, and if a monster gets to far ahead of your strength level it might try to rebel. " " Noted, thanks for the tips. I really appreciate you giving me all this extra help. I can't imagine you have to do that, so I really appreciate what you're doing. " " It's alright kid. So, eighth wish? " Dean couldn't think of anything, once again trying to limit himself from being absurdly over powered. Eventually he thought of all the other webnovels he had read, mainly the Chinese ones. A common point in most of the was Seals/ Formations/ Inscriptions. Dean had always enjoyed the thought of Seals and he had always wanted to try them.  " For my eighth wish I want Seals/ Formations that I can do. Mainly like gravity seals or time advancement seals stuff like that. " " Hmm, that might be a little complicated since that would be changing the universe on a deep, deep level. I can guess the main thing you would be using the seals for so if you want I can give you some alternatives. I can offer you an infinite space ring where time freezes in the space. And I can give you training clothes that you can change the weight, size, and appearance of. Sound good? " " . . . Sure. Now I am completely drawn to a stump on what I want for my next three wishes. So do you have an suggestions? " " A weapon maybe. I can grant you a weapon perfectly suited to you that will have some basic powers. I would also suggest a martial art or something of that sort. " " Screw it I'll take it. Then for my last wish I want . . . I want . . . I want a pair of wedding rings for me and my future wife. I want the rings to be able to teleport one of us to the other whenever we want. " " Anything else you want to add to them? " " Naw, I feel it would get annoying having her voice constantly in my head.  I'm sure you know that better than me. " " Hehe, yeah it can get pretty crazy. Then granted. " Dean's soul instantly started breaking apart, apparently reincarnating. Dean stared at Johann as he was slowly fading.  " Oh by the way, I'm letting you keep your memories. Keep it more interesting you know. " " Thanks, for everything Johann. "  " It was my pleasure kid, I hope you live a fulfilling life this time. Try and lose you virginity as well you backwards ass pornstar. " " Hehe, I can't wait for that. Just make sure not to perve at the time old man. " " Depends on how hot the girl is. Plus it'd definitely be worth facing the wrath of the missus just to see you fumble for your first time. " " Whatever perve, just enjoy the show. " At that point Dean finally faded completely. He missed the slight falter in Johann's grin as well as the feminine figure that appeared behind the God.  " Don't worry honey, he can join us eventually. " " I know, it's just so hard to wait. " " It's not to long now that you've put him in that world, surely he'll fulfill his potential there. " " Yep, then are you ready to head back home? " " Sure. By the way, where did all of the mumbo jumbo about how we met come from? " " I was nervous! I didn't know what to say. " " The voted number six of the top stoicest God's and you fumble that hard. " " Stop teasing me babe, or should I tell Ody that you're down for a threesome? " " You wouldn't dare! " " Try me bitch. " The loving couple messed around like that all the way back to their home in the God's Realm. Trying to not worry about their son who was just sent off.  In the mean time Dean was born in the middle of a giant battle between what looked like a dozen extremely powerful beings. The poor guy didn't know whether to curse or cry.    ( Ody is one of the Goddesses of Fetish and Sex, she had been trying to get with Dean's yet to be name mom since she had come to the God Realm. )

When Dios woke up he didn't even spend a second to look at his surroundings, instead he ran out of his room to look for Cynthia. He looked for her in the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, eventually he even knocked on her room door and the bathroom. For every room he didn't find her in Dios's excitement was snuffed slightly.  Eventually when he was about to give up Dios heard a banging sound inside of the gym. He instantly jogged to the room that on the opposite side of the house from where the rest of the rooms were. The house that Cynthia and Dios live in is quite large. It had a main building that was set up like a normal house, and then it had two corridors that lead to separate buildings, though the building were still connected to the house. The separate buildings were a green house and a dojo/ gym. Usually Cynthia doesn't spend much time in the green house and she'll generally wait for Dios to wake up before going to the dojo, hence why he didn't check out the other buildings when he was looking for his aunt.  When Dios did eventually reach the dojo he the banging sound was much louder and was accompanied by the grunts of Cynthia. When Dios opened the door he saw Cynthia's long luscious hair bobbing up and down with each swing of her fist. Cynthia was punching a human shaped doll. Cynthia's fists were aimed at special spots that would be either lethal or could cause a serious amount of pain.  Cynthia sent an acknowledging glance at Dios letting him know that she knew he was there. She then picked up the speed of her punches. Eventually after half and hour Cynthia let up on her punches; she was dripping enough sweat to make a pool surrounding her entire workout doll. It had spread out so much because she had been moving around the doll, testing her footwork. Eventually Cynthia walked up to Dios who had a towel waiting for you. He handed it to her and she instantly started drying herself off.  " Thanks. " " No problem aunty. So, guess who had two thumbs and recently got his first soul ring! " " REALLY‽ Congrats! " " Yep my soul ring fits all your requirements, it was a mutated titan, so that covers the lineage and the physical strength and the humanoid requirements. Along with all of that it was suited to me almost perfectly. " " Well, what's your soul ring ability? " " It's called Bulk Up. It increases my attacking power by 10% at 100 years.years. At 1,000 years it would increase his power by 20%. 10,000 would increase his power by 40%. 100,000 would increase his power by 70%. And then at 1,000,000 years Dios's power would increase by 110%.  And before you ask, it is already a few thousand years old, give it a month or two of constant killing and it should be at 1,000,000. " " Cool, I can't wait. Though don't worry about raising the age of your soul ring so quickly. It would be a lot better to focus on your cultivation. Since you'll probably have to take a while to find your second soul ring when you reach rank 2o. Oh, by the way when most people get a soul ring after staying at level 10, 2o etc. they advance a few levels at once. Did you go up any? " " No, you know how my cultivation technique focuses on condensing the Soul Energy meaning that if I condense it enough my cultivation doesn't actually go up any. " " Damn, I can't tell if that's strong or weak. " " Well look at it this way, if I had a normal amount of condensed energy and tried to use a technique it would only be an average amount of power. However, if I used my highly condensed energy then the power could easily overpower an enemies technique. I think the extra battle power is more than worth it for the potentially slower cultivation speed. The thing is if I wanted to I could actually spread out my Soul Energy to speed up my Cultivation and then condense it when I reach a higher level. " " Oh. " " Oh? That's it, I just tell you about some super over powered cultivation technique, and all I get is, oh. "  Cynthia gave Saturn a look before she suddenly yelled out.  " OH MY GOD YOU'RE A GOD! ONLY A GOD LIKE YOU COULD USE SUCH A GODLY CULTIVATION TECHNIQUE! " " Alright, alright! I've never heard you yell and I hate it. And what's with the godly stuff? " " What? You wanted a bigger reaction so I gave it to you. Anyway, I'm happy that you got your first Soul Ring, but that doesn't mean you'll be getting out of today's workout. " Dios instantly felt all of his excitement die. " . . . Really? " " Yep, so get to it and don't even think about slacking because I'll be watching. " Dios then went to his room to change into his workout clothes. Though the clothes consisted of only the kilt/ skirt he was given by his uncle Ocko. He used the kilt as his workout clothes because they also functioned as his battle clothes. It's better to get used to moving his clothes.  After that he got to his workouts.  ( I almost ended the chapter here, but when I put it in a word counter I learned that it is only 925 words or so. Four hours of work, and that's all I have written down. )   Dios's workouts were a lot harder that day. Made so by Cynthia who used the excuse that since he had his Soul Ring he could work harder. And work harder he did. By the time he was done he had his shiny bronze like hair flat against his scalp. And his skirt had a nice layer of moisture coating it.  He was laying in a puddle of his own sweat breathing harder than a fat guy at a free buffet; when suddenly Cynthia walked into the room.  " Alright kid, stop being so dramatic get up. I'm taking you out to dinner in celebration. " Dios got up while grunting.  " Alright, let me get cleaned up and throw on some decent clothes. " " Something nice, we're going to fancy schmancy restaurant out of town. " " Ooo, treating me so nice sugar mama. " " What? " " . . . Nothing, don't worry about it. Anyway I'm going to go change. " Cynthia just gave him an odd look. Once back in his room Dios put his skirt inside of a tub of water. The tub was specifically made for washing the skirt, it would allow it soak. Once he was naked Dios hopped into a shower and quickly cleaned himself up. It took him about three minutes to clean up and another minute or two to get dressed.  When Dios finally met up with Cynthia she couldn't help but be impressed by her nephew. Dios was a full 6'3'' and had quite a full figure with bulging muscles. He had perfectly golden skin that was from the son and genetics. He was wearing a tiger skin fur around his waist that was open and would show his dick if he wasn't wearing pants. He had on loose silk pants with wrappings around his skins. On the upper part of his body was a tight black shirt that showed off his perfect body. He had a snake skin shawl around his shoulders as well.  Cynthia couldn't keep staring at her nephew and did her best to her self inflicted awkwardness. She decided to tease Dios by doing a wolf whistle.  " Look at you getting dressed up all nice and handsome. " " Yeah I am pretty good looking. " Cynthia couldn't help but think. ' Damn, he's becoming immune to my teasing. I'll have to up that in the future, perhaps it's time to bring out the big guns. Hugs and kisses . . . Though that doesn't sound to bad. Hm. . . . Mental note try giving Dios a hug in the future. ' It was only then did Cynthia come to, with Dios waking his face size hand in her face.  " Cynthia, heellllooooo, I know I'm handsome but I don't think I've ever made a girl start day dreaming. " " Hehe you wish kiddo. Anyway let's go, I'll lead the way. " After that both Dios and Cynthia started walking. They maintained a steady space of 6 or seven miles per hour. They obviously could have walked faster, but both were enjoying simply walking and talking.  " So I was walking down the street one day when a woman just comes up and starts molesting me. She instantly started rubbing her hand on my crotch. Turns out she was some crazed fan who wanted to know the size of my dick. " " Hahaha. That's crazy. " " Yeah and then after word got out about it it became a sort of tradition for some of my fans to try and greet me by groping me. Of course I would usually prevent it but some still got a feel or two in. " The two bantered like that the entire way to the restaurant, and the entire time they were eating. Dios ate about half a cow's worth in steak all of which had been cooked in various different means. Cynthia despite not having eaten as much definitely held her own. She ate enough chicken and pork to feed at least two families.  After that the two went out and walked around town. They did everything from street games to drinking a little, they even went out dancing. All of this because a carnival was going on. It was a travelling carnival that would go from town to town and stay for a week each.  " Man that was fun, we should do it again. " " Well I don't know about the game but we can drink and dance whenever you want. " " I might just take you up on that offer. " The two were walking back to Cynthia's house while enjoying themselves. They were laughing like a couple of drunks despite being completely sober. When they finally got home they both sat on the couch and continued talking for a few minutes. After that however, they both went to bed. Dios went to his Soul Space to cultivate and train, Cynthia went straight to sleep.  ( I bet ya'll thought that Dios and Cynthia were gonna do it. Well nope, haha to any of you that wanted it. )

It took over a month for Cynthia and Dios to reach the exit of the forest. Considering they were moving at a steady pace of ten miles per hour, walked for 16 hours a day, and were walking a straight path from the center of the forest, one could tell the forest was absolutely massive.  It took four times as long to reach the academy where Cynthia taught. It was halfway through the journey that Dios realized he would probably need to be carried in order to make it to his birthday. But the journey wasn't any fun or games as one would expect of a journey alone with a pretty girl. Instead it was the complete opposite. Cynthia had forced Dios to increase the weight of his training clothes.  Dios had told his adopted family about his wishes within the first month of being born. He figured it'd be easier than explaining where he magically got magical clothes that can change their size, weight, and appearance, where he got a ring with an infinite amount of space, where he got a personalized cultivation, and all his other unexplainable wishes. His family had of course abused the hell out of some of his gifts, they made him carry all of their treasures and foods. They also made him play around with his clothes. Dios could turn his clothes into any type of clothing including metal armor, but it had certain limit to it's protection. Basically his Aunty would make him turn into a mop and wash her back, which was extremely comfortable for her, Hanuman would make him make a back scratcher, and Ocko would make him brush his scales. They had also made him bring them into his Soul Space where they found rare plants and made some new friends. Since they were all monsters they were allowed inside of his Soul Space. Cynthia was allowed inside the space once a month, apparently since she was a hundred thousand year old beast she turned human she got certain benefits that humans did not have. Why Johann set the rules like that Dios didn't know nor did he really care. During the five month journey Dios hadn't been able to find a worthy martial soul. Cynthia had enforced a few rules on what kind of soul Dios was allowed to absorb. The soul had to belong to a physical attack type monster. The monster had to be of some special type of lineage, so dragon, pheonix, or some other God species. Monsters of such lineage are usually pretty easy to tell because they'll often have some unique aura or feature.  An example would be that all monsters of Pheonix lineage are all female birds, have flames surrounding their body, and they all live in trees. They also have an aura unique to their species.  The last suggestion/ rule was that the monster had to be a humanoid type monster. Cynthia realized how strict her rules were so she allowed Dios one corner to cut. If he couldn't find a humanoid monster that fit the other requirements, then he was allowed to use an evolved non-humanoid monster. Such monsters were usually more powerful than their normal counterparts, they also usually gave stronger or completely different soul abilities. There was once two brothers, the first brother killed and gained the soul ring of a certain bear type beast that allowed him to summon a bear like entity to fight for him. The other brother gained the soul ring of a mutated bear of the same species, the second brother's summon was so much stronger than the first brother's that he could fight the first brother despite being ten cultivation level behind. " You know aunty, such requirements are basically impossible. I mean hell they are impossible if it wasn't for the fact that I have my soul space." " Yeah, maybe, but no nephew of mine is going to settle for some B-Class soul ring. " " You sound like a wife who wants to show off her husband. " " Aww! Is that your way of proposing? " " Hehe, not unless you want me to aunty? Do you, I'd happily marry you. " " Not yet little man, maybe in the future. " Unfortunately for Dios he had to spend five months with a beautiful woman, who loved teasing him, and was almost perfectly his type. Another unfortunate thing for Dios was that he was coming up on thirty years in soul age while still being a virgin meaning he was soon enough going to be a wizard1 It's a common joke on the internet that a man who is still a virgin by the time he reaches thirty he is a wizard. Look it up if you're curious. . When he brought up and explained the situation to his aunt she didn't stop laughing and giggling for fifteen minutes.  After that Cynthia upped the teasing on Dios 11-fold. He honestly didn't know what to do, physically he was capable of masturbation, but he rarely had the time to do so plus he would of felt odd jacking off about someone so close to him.  " Get your head out of the gutter nephew, we're here. " Dios went wide eyed and thought. ' How did she know? ' After he got over his surprise though Dios decided to check out the school, and he got surprised once again. Not by the raggedy, run down look of the school, or the fact the school was so poor looking. No he was surprised about the sign mentioning the name of the school. The sign read.  [ Shrek Academy ]  Once he read the sign Dios proceeded to have a complete fanboy moment. He did a high pitched squeal of excitement while jumping up and down.  " OH MY GOD YOU TEACH AT SHREK ACADEMY‽ " Cynthia just smiled slightly before putting her hand on her nephew's head. Her being so strong meant that the poor tiny-by-titan's-standards stopped dead.  " Why are you freaking out Dios? " " Alright, so, in my past life I was a fan of a story called Douluo Dalu. " Dios explained the entire situation about the Douluo Dalu novels, how he was an avid reader of them, some of the big plot points he could remember, that sort of stuff.  " Wait . . . Are you telling me our continent was recorded into a story format in a new universe? " " Somewhat, the story itself was for purely entertainment purposes. The story didn't mention any of you guys, it did however mention this academy. Matter of fact it was a crucial part of the story with the main cast coming here. You weren't mentioned however so I know that the story isn't like a complete guide to my new world. Soul Hall was still a douche in the story though. " " Hehe, how unsurprising. That's crazy though I mean for our entire world to be loosely recorded. I mean even if it wasn't super detailed there are still certain advantages that you have. " " Yep, though I can't remember much that'll give us an immediate advantage. " " Damn, that sucks. ' Sigh ' Then let's get in there I guess, Flander's gonna be pissed that I haven't taught in so long. " " What is it that you teach exactly? " " I teach monster species and habits, how to identify them, their weaknesses. Stuff like that. " " Alright, pretty neat. " Dios followed into a slightly less rundown building. Inside was a middle aged man with chin length black hair, he had pale skin, and was a tad on the chubby side. He was wearing a long plain green and brown robe, while over his eyes were some gold rimmed glasses.  " Ah Cynthia, how nice to see you again." " Hey Dean, how you doing? " Cynthia, despite knowing she could beat Flander in a fight still sounded slightly nervous, after all the man could chew a person out for hours over a little slip up.  " Oh you know, about as good as I can be when one of my best teachers leaves and doesn't come back for six months. " ( One month extra because she needed to make the trip there. ) " Sorry about that boss, I was bringing my nephew back to study and that took five months. He's really slow. " Flander looked kind of nervous when he heard that. He then walked up Cynthia and whispered into her ear.  " Slow as in mentally oorrr? . . . " " No! I mean he's a slow walker! That's why it took us forever. " " Oh my bad. " " What'd you think she meant? " " Nothin' nothin'! So why'd you decide to bring your nephew to the school? " " Well I felt it was time to start training him, and I figured what better than a school for monsters. " " Heh, fine, I assume he meets the requirements to join the school? " " Not quite, but he'd be well on his way if it wasn't for the fact that I am being so picky with his soul ring. " Dean Flander smiled and then said.  " Then welcome to Shrek Academy young man. " Dios simply smiled.    Sorry about the super short chapter today guys. I have despite being in the mood for writing, not been able to concentrate on writing. 

In the middle of an expansive forest of towering ancient trees, a young woman suddenly appeared. Petite, with large green eyes and long brown hair, she summed up the word [adorable] very well. She had not walked into this place, but most literally appeared from thin air, her very clean, sleek and modern clothes contrasting greatly with the dirty naturalness of her surroundings. Cora was still laughing loudly, as if she just heard the funniest joke. However her laughter quickly died out and she stood calmly, almost simmering in anger. The canopy of trees covered the sky, leaving the surroundings dim. She could hear birds in the nearby surroundings, and rustling in the undergrowth next to her. Cora’s short fuse finally blew after realizing the entirety of her situation.  “THAT WITCH!”       The ground was damp and cool, the rain had just stopped, water droplets still clung tightly to pine needles, as if afraid to take the plunge. Cora hummed happily to herself, it was after the rain that fruit tasted the freshest, as if washed by mother nature herself. The smell of petrichor wafted through the forest and she could hear thunder in the far distance, like horses galloping away over the hills. It had been months since she entered this forest and she has become so bored without modern technology to pass her time that her imagination has begun picking up the slack, often wandering off to create fanciful images. Don’t know how the ancients lived their lives with the same 24 hours in a day and didn’t die of boredom.  However it truly did have its own good perks. Although she was bored more frequently than not being alone in a godforsaken forest, she found she was capable of things she never considered. Building a shelter took a little serendipity and bruises but she had a decent shack that no longer had any drafts. She even had a small garden where she had transplanted from the forest to her little plot. Her house was built in a clearing in the middle of the forest, a rare swatch of grass for a good distance before the forest swallows it back up again. If the locals were to see where she lived, they would bow in fear, realizing it was a dangerous and holy site high in spiritual energy. For Cora, it simply had good feng shui. She had yet to see anything dangerous, or anything much at all. Not knowing most animals avoided the area, and only brainless animals like birds and rats would run through to look for food.  Humming pervaded the quiet forest, creating an ethereal scene of a fairy walking in peace. Unfortunately there was no one to admire this scene. Fortunately, there was no one to lament when the scene was broken by the fairy shouting with utmost annoyance, “I WANT TO EAT MEAT.”  Cora had survived for three months on fruit and tubers and forest vegetables. She wanted meat, but did not know how to hunt. Depressed, Cora considered, once again, trying to journey out to find a village to get a gun or bow or whatever weapon she would need. And seasoning. And towels.  The shopping list grew.        Time passed for Cora in the blink of an eye once she found this world had special martial arts. Enamored with the magic of it, Cora traded many special forest plants and fruits for manuals and books during one of her grocery trips to the villages on the forest fringe and ran back home to practice. Initially, she wanted to be like Jackie Chan or Bruce Lee, but when it got too difficult and she was about to drop it, she realized she had lost weight and gained muscle from the exercise.  A woman’s eternal struggle is to look beautiful, and she suddenly found her cheat.  Cora became slimmer and stronger, and found its magical properties were so handy. She could now chop down a tree branch with her hand! She could renovate her house with this ability! Her dreams were no longer dreams!  With the power that many struggle to acquire and hone, Cora began her home improvement projects joyfully humming.        A year passed and Cora finally started to feel bored again. Her house was adorable (in her own words), and she had finished reading those manuals and books three times, and transplanted every vegetable she found in the forest into her own garden. She felt like Eve, but she also felt lonely. At least Eve had Adam, even if he did blame her for everything. Her walks into the forest became more frequent, her trips to nearby villages were more frequent as well. She was hoping to find a pretty man to abduct [cough cough], fall in love with. And there were many pretty men, but every pretty man she saw was not prettier than the last. So she would grumble and leave, taking the long walk back to her cottage in the woods.  Barely an hours walk into the forest from a village, she found a dead body. Gasping in surprise, she walked closer and started playing CSI with herself.  “Multiple cuts on his limbs, his clothes are in tatters. “Underwear still intact, unlike there was any sexual element there. Hmm… “Blood clot at back of the head, likely the cause of death.”  Cora ignored the disgustingness of the scene that would cause a weak willed person to run away. Truthfully, if it was the old her, she would run away too. Boredom changes people in scary ways, looking for entertainment in all kinds of things.  Turning the body over with a sturdy stick to check for more interesting bits and avoid contaminating the body, Detective Cora gasped at the handsomeness of his face, one of the only intact parts of him… besides his underwear. Tears formed in her eyes at the loss of such an exquisite man in this world, and she was about to pray for his soul when the man’s eyebrows stirred and Cora realized she had written the man off for dead too fast! Overjoyed, Cora settled him down and did a quick dressing of the worst of his wounds, using some of the herbs in her bag to patch it up, and then carefully picked him up onto her back and started carefully walking home, avoiding jostling him. The man groaned a few times and Cora spoke soothingly to him, apologizing for thinking he was a dead body and treating him like entertainment and poking him with a stick and whatnot. She admitted walking an hour into the forest seemed like a bit far to dump a body but if they didn’t want to bury the body then it made sense. Cora rambled on, hoping to keep the man conscious enough to not accidentally slip into the sleep of death on her.  The walk home took longer than normal being so careful not to hurt the man further, so the sun had long set when she reached her cottage. The door was not locked, so she simply kicked it open, the sound of the collision woke the man into alertness. Cora easily found the bed with her night vision and set the man down gently, going to find her medicine and light a fire. The man couldn’t see anything in the darkness, only a dark shadow moving about. He grimaced in pain but didn’t make a sound. Cora mentally gave him manliness points as she cleaned his body off and patched him up with singleminded devotion.  Cora gave the man a sip of warm honey water to soothe his throat and the first thing the man said when he regained the ability to speak with a clear voice, Cora didn’t even hear because she was so enamored with the pleasant smoothness of his voice. Coming back to herself, she asked him politely to repeat it. The man seemed a bit embarrassed to have to repeat it again but instead of words of thanks, the man simply told her, “I am a good for nothing, there is no reward for your efforts to save me.” Cora could hear the implication to stop wasting her time, but honestly, she just felt like laughing. And so she laughed. The man frowned, his brow tightening. He had heard laughter many times since his accident, heard it as the people around him kicked him down. Somehow he wasn’t entirely numb to it yet, and it still pinched his heart.  “I can afford to keep one ‘good for nothing’ if he looks this pretty.” The man was waiting for her to kick him out like everyone else, the laughter only made his heart sink lower, didn’t expect it to buoy back up like this. He was left confused beyond belief and could only look on dumbly as she stepped away to the kitchen to make him some porridge, humming. 

When Dean woke up he found himself in what looked like the remnants of what was once a beautiful forest. It had likely been destroyed by the dozens of beings fighting, Dean saw humans and monsters of various sorts. Every monster had at least three to five humans surrounding them while the most ferocious had upwards of ten humans surrounding them. Dean didn't know the situation, but he genuinely feared for his life. He decided to look around to try and find a way out, then he realized he was being held. He was being held by what could only be described as a giantess. She had skin made of literal bronze while her hair was made of gold, her eyes shined like two radiant suns. She had a fairly muscular body, but it didn't make her any less beautiful, she was the epitome of the " Amazoness " look. The only odd thing, apart from her metal features, was the fact that she was absolutely huge. Dean realized he was a baby, and that most things would look rather large to him, but even compared to the monsters fighting she was on the bigger size. The titan of a woman who had been watching the battle saw Dean looking around and smiled at him. She started talking to him.  " Hello . . . Son. I am your mother. " Dean was of course a baby and couldn't reply, but he was confused by the fact that the clearly non-human woman was his mother. He continued to look at her hoping she would continue talking.  Dean didn't even realize that he shouldn't be able to understand her.  " Those big fellows out there are your aunties and uncles. They will be taking care of you in place of your mommy. " Dean was confused at her words, he wondered why she wouldn't be taking care of him. Dean could feel an instinctual connection to the the woman that seemed to come from his very soul. He could also feel the warmth of love flow flowing from her eyes.  " Mommy is sorry she won't be able to take care of, she really, really, really wanted to, but it seems that I have been injured. " The giant of a woman let out exactly two tears from her eyes which dimmed slightly. It was also at that point that Dean noticed the massive hole in her stomach. The recently reincarnated man started panicking. Despite having only just met the woman he felt a love that every child feels towards their mother, until the mother proves that love wrong. Dean oh so regretted not having wished for a method of healing.  " No need to fret child. " Dean was surprised that the woman knew he was panicking.  " I know you are reincarnated. It was only a few days ago that mommy received a message from the God's speaking of how my child will be a child born from me, but from another world. Don't worry mommy doesn't love you any less. " Dean let out tears, he who had never felt the love or warmth of a mother despised that he felt it only for it to be soon taken away.  " Do not worry my child. Even if we won't be together physically, I will always be watching over you. Literally, I am actually going to go the God Realm upon my death. " Dean let out a small sigh of relief at that, though he was surprised by that. He hoped his mother would elaborate. His wish soon came true.  " You see son, I am what is known as a 100,000 year old beast. Though I am much closer in age to 1,000,000 years old. Anyway, in only a few years I would have moved on to the God Realm using my own power, but a few Gods and Goddess predicted a great battle in my future, one that I won't be able to avoid because I will be having you. Now before you fret, no, I do not regret having you, I'd rather die a million times over than to not carry you in my belly for one hundred years and birth you. Anyways, the Gods and Goddess were rather friendly with me and offered me a deal. I could try and avoid the battle and hope to live, the chances of that happening being extremely minute, with a high likelihood of you dying. Or I could post up with all of your aunties and uncles for a sort of final stand while you are born. I'm sure you are thinking " why not do both ". The reason is because that this area is special to your mommy. This area is where I meet your daddy. Anyway the Gods told me that if I decided on the final stand I would be assured a spot in the God Realm, despite not officially reaching God level power. I don't know why they offered me this deal, but I assume it has something to do with you my child.  I mean you are reincarnated, and you're my son so I know for a fact that you are special. " Dean who was absorbing all that she had said was surprised when suddenly she coughed blood on him. When he looked up into her eyes she suddenly licked her thumb and started cleaning Dean.  " Hehe, sorry son, anyway I guess it's time for me to describe your heritage. Let's start with me I guess. You see I was the last of our kind, until you that is, we are known as Bronze Titan. We are some of the most physically powerful Soul Beasts to have existed. We were so powerful in fact, that many of us could fight Gods despite not actually being Gods. I myself am like that, or was hehe. So I'm sure you are wondering how I who could fight Gods am like this. The answer would be the dastardly Soul Hall, they used four rank 99 Titled Douluo and a few other Tital Douluos under rank 99. Hehe, mommy still took all four down with me. The rest are over there battling you aunties and uncles. Now, onto your daddy. I'll get the big stuff out of the way. Your father was a human. " Dean was obviously shocked hearing that. He of course knew of humans mating with 100,000 year old beasts. The thing is, his mother was absolutely massive, even though she was as beautiful as a Goddess even with a hole in her stomach. But her " slit " was easily the size of an average human, judging from the size of her pelvis.  " Now before you start trying to figure out how we created you let me explain your father's Martial Soul. Your father's soul was a Gorgeous Golden Giant as he called it. In reality it was a Golden Titan. The Golden Titan were a race closely related to our own, they were simply more attack oriented. Anyway when your father used his Martial Soul he could do one of two things. He could turn into a full on Titan or he could turn into a humanoid Titan. His full on Titan mode was how we . . . Mated. His Humanoid Titan mode was his preferred mode of battle. " While Dean was contemplating what his mother told him the beautiful bronze near-Goddess continued her story; she had a look of reminiscence and love in her eyes, along with the slightest hint of sorrow. " Your father and I met when he was out searching for a suitable 90'th Soul Ring. I had heard through the grapevine of a handsome Titan beating up many of the powerhouses in the forest. So I went out in search of him to challenge him. I of course suppressed my power to a level that would keep us even. We battled for three days straight non-stop. You see the level of destruction around here right now? Imagine that, but six times worse. Hehe, it was truly a wild few days. I don't know when exactly, but some time during the fight I fell deeply in love with your father. The feeling was mutual of course. Anyway bing, bang, boom and out pops you. " All of a sudden the battle around them seemed to have ended. All the humans were either dead or dying. The monsters that were Dean's aunts and uncles killed all the living ones before walking over to Dean and his mother. The first one to speak was a large alligator looking creature with extremely long, strong legs. The legs could clearly propel the creature at extremely fast speeds on land and in water. It's body had greenish blue scales all along it's spine, while the rest of it's body had brownish green scales. The teeth of the beast were easily the size of a 12 year old child, while the claws were the size of a small adult. The eyes of the beast were a deep pure black. When the beast spoke it was a deep rumble that seemed to come from the depths of the Earth.  " Alright sis, we got em taken care of. " " Thanks Soso. I was just talking Dios about how I and his father met. " The alligator got the closest thing to a smile that could be on an alligators face. She also chuckled slightly.  " Hehe, I remember that fight. Did she tell you about what happened when the fight ended? " Dean tried shaking his head, but his head that was laying on his mom's bicep was to heavy. All he could do was twitch his head from side to side.  " Well your mom was about to rape your dad, but the instant she got his pants off he passed out. Poor girl had to wait four weeks to get satisfied. " " It was sssoooo worth it though! The things that that man could do in either of his forms, just ooohhhh. " Poor Dean was staring at his aunt and mother. Even though he was an adult mentally, few people wanted to hear about their parents fucking. Luckily for Dean a large ape like creature spoke up. "Alright girls settle down, your embarrassing little Dios. So have you told him his full name? " Dean's mom seemed to blush slightly before quickly saying.  " Son your name is Dios Doro. ( Pronounced Dee-Os Door-O ) Your father's last name was Doro while Dios was my last name. ' cough ' ' cough ' Oh by the way, ' Cough ' my name is Selene Dios. "  Dios was worried when his mother coughed up more blood. He didn't even care that the blood landed on him.  " Well, it seems my time has come. I'm sorry son, that I'm not going to be able to stay with, kiss you when you hurt, help you solve your problems. Watch your kids while your out with your wife. I won't even be able to fight your wife for your attention. Hehe. " Dios was crying like a little baby ( Cough ), he didn't even laugh at his mom's attempt to lighten the mood. He wasn't the only one crying though, the alligator, the large monkey, and the other creatures.  Dios crawled up onto his mom's face or tried to anyway. He could only get up to her neck, that was enough though. It was enough for him to give her a kiss on the cheek and a hug. At that moment his mother who had a grin on her face passes away. Everybody's tears started falling faster.  They all stayed like that for what felt like months, though Dios knew that it was only a few hours. Eventually one of Dios's uncles, a snake with four claws and a pair of angel wings, picked him up. His monkey uncle and alligator aunty collaborated to carry his mother. They went to a mountain that exuded a sense of mysticism. Once there they put Selene on an altar.  His snake/ dragon uncle whose name was Očkovaný Had, Ocko for short, explained to Dios that they were giving an 0ffering to his mother who was in the God Realm. They were offering her body back to her, which would essentially let her come back to life, she just couldn't come back to the Douluo Continent. The sight of her body disintegrating into energy was quite the beautiful experience. Once her body was fully gone Dios noticed that his mother's eyes were still on the altar . Even though Dios had an idea of why they were there, it was his monkey uncle, Hanuman, that confirmed it for him.  " Those are your mother's eyes. You see Selene had one non-attack oriented skill. The skill was an eye based control skill where she could teleport to anywhere in her eyesight. It was a skill she developed herself and it was one of the most powerful and useful skills in her arsenal. She naturally wanted you to have it, hence why she left her eyes to you. " Dios was extremely surprised by his mothers power and skill. After all teleportation skills would be extremely handy and hard to develop.  Dios didn't immediately integrate Selene's eyes, since it would be dangerous.  After all of that Dios quickly integrated into the life style of monsters and happily started his life in another world. 

Zenki'l's laughter boomed in the night sky. His words heard by all. “Muhaha! You are too late. My return has been guaranteed,” he said with confidence. The world in its entirety seemed to answer him. Tortuous winds tore their way in every direction imaginable - keeping even the most sturdy footed of balance. Rain clouds raged, pouring lakes from their gullet, the accompanying lightning burning the ground it touches as its voice shook the rear guard in their positions. It was difficult to see past the blowing downpour of rain, more so when the blazers of fire had died in the storm. But their hearing was not wholly impaired, the words spoken by the Dark God clear as day no matter how loud the storm became. “Did Cassius make it? Is he okay?” Asked Relaki over the sound of the blowing winds. She covered her head with a thick cloth, but it did nothing from keeping her dry; she was thoroughly soaked, they had not expected such weather in the arid, desolate lands near Mount Welmonu. Especially considering how sudden it had come. One moment, the rear guards were watching the strike force enter, and then the next rain began falling. “Relaki, he's not the only person that entered the labyrinth. Have some shame, and at the very least act like your worried about High Paladin Zakir and the rest of the army,” said Luna, berating her friend as she kept her hold of her as tight as possible. Luna feared Relaki would run off to find Cassius at any moment. She might be one of the more beautiful and talent gifted people of the Church, but like all ordinary people she had a flaw; not the infallible woman she is often made to be. Her fault was her undying love for a single man. Why she fell for the droopy smiled and dense Cassius, that she would never know. “But… But, you heard the evil voice. It was different than Zenama's,” whispered Relaki, pulling at her friend's grip. “I just want to get a closer look, nothing more,” she tried again. Maybe another tactic was needed to escape her friend. But Luna wasn't having any of it. Stern-faced and narrowed eyes made it very clear what she thought of her poor excuse to get away. “Goddess knows how long the first tunnel is, not to mention all the bends and curves. How do you expect to see anything? I am not letting you go. You have responsibilities to uphold,” said Luna with an irritated voice. “Let go, Lu-” With a sudden gust of wind and an explosive deadening of silence, the rain that had been hurtling downwards ceased to exist. Disoriented, Luna released her grip of Relaki's hand falling to her bottom. Her eyebrows knitted as she looked around her. Everyone seemed to be looking up into the sky, gasps of awe sounded out, and others began to point up in wonder. Following their lead Luna tilted her head up, only to feel great unease as though she had been drenched with water in frigid temperatures. Up above was a beam that crawled its way through the sky. It was made of what seemed to be blackness that sucked the light in its path. No, it was less than even that. It was nothing but the lack of anything and everything. Slowly eating its way through reality and straight towards the ritual. Luna continued to watch, its slow progress until at a point, it froze in position. Then with a sudden concussive force that dispersed the clouds from the sky, and after a moment reached them - pressing down on them - it sped to speeds that could not be conceived. One moment it was still and the next, its tail was the only thing you could see, the lead had gone past the mountain. Boom! The voice that had proclaimed its victory suddenly cried in pain. Its scream was hoarse and tortuous to the ears. Covering them, Luna looked at Relaki who was mirroring her actions. The events taking place were happening to fast to deal with mentally. As the scream continued, a peal of grating laughter erupted, Zenama's voice was distinct enough to be recognized from the other one. Both, sounding simultaneous, caused blood to seep from Luna's ears. A blast of energy pushed past them from the mountain, blowing dirt and wet sand into the air. Lowering their heads, the rear guard covered themselves. “What have you done?!” Screamed Zenki'l, groaning afterward from another spike of pain. Zenama suddenly stopped laughing, an uncertain air revolved around him, “I-I did nothing!” He screamed in denial. His voice was filled with confusion and a bit of fear. What was that black beam? And more importantly, why did Zenki'l seem so distressed? “D-Don't blame me. Blame my sister, she is the one that sent the satyr!” Screamed Zenama in response. Having seen enough, he quickly rumped through his portal and closed it shut. The air it had been occupying returning to its position with a loud slapping sound. “No! Come back here, help me,” said Zenki'l, his last word nothing more than a harsh whisper of pain. Screaming as loud as he could, voice shaking the air and bringing almost everyone within the mountain and out to their knees. A zapping sound that quickly cut Zenki'l's scream short ripped its way. The cries from the army were all that can be heard. Until, with sudden silence, no words, screams, or anything that dealt with noise existed. The winds stopped entirely, the uprooted grounds of dirt and sand froze in mid-air. A sound similar to the creak of a door slowly screeched. And as it finished, a suction force pulled everything it could towards its epicenter. The orb of darkness that had once been Zenki'l was now something far more heinous and destructive. A literal black hole had torn its place into the fabric of space far above the mountain. While the strike force definitely felt the suction force, it was too far away to pull them towards it. Yet, none could utter a word from fear at what they witnessed. The mountain itself had begun to break into pieces. Floating up towards a ball of darkness that hurt the eyes to stare at. The massive rocks that floated up seemed to elongate; running circles around it. Screams of horror could be heard from within the mountain, those unlucky enough to not have died on the way up were stretched beyond the limits of even the most flexible body. This continued for only minutes, everything happening so fast. Frozen on their feet, Relaki watched the last hopes of the survival of her love vanish, and all that was left was a fog of dust that did not want to disperse. “Cassius, don't leave me,” she whispered to the air. “Ple-ease,” her voice broken as tears streamed down her face without end. Getting, her legs shaking, she stumbled her way forward in the storm of swirling dirt and sand. Arm covering her face, she continued walking until - almost falling - she broke past it and into what seemed to be a massive dome the dirt and sand revolved around. But that was not important to her. No, what was important was the massive crater that had appeared where the mountain had been. Walking to the edge, she fell to her knees, her body not capable of carrying her. Heart-wrenching sobs broke away from Relaki without her control. Only able to utter a single word, she did so continuously. Screaming Cassius's name over and over again. While there was an enormous ball of dust in the center of the crater, she knew better than to believe he had survived in such a thing. Continuously, she stayed in her position until her eyes became to dry for tears to fall and her mouth to parched for her to speak anymore. Broken she let her body droop down, hands limp on her side. Feeling a hand touch her, she did not flinch - welcoming the prospect of death. Looking over her shoulder, she found Luna with tears in her eyes. “Let's go, we need to let the world know what happened here,” said Luna as she cradled Relaki. A hand on her back and another at the back of her knees. Walking away, they did not notice the fog in the crater fade away behind them. Nor did they see a single man wear robes completely stained in different shades of brown, from the dust and other less flattering things. Standing there under a dome of energy was a single man with knees bent, hands stretched out to balance him, and a hand from the wrist up only. The ground under him completely solid and almost completely untouched by the black ball. “D-Dark God,” said the man in a whisper, his left eye twitching in a constant, but rhythmic beat. “Dark God,” he asked again as he fell to his bottom, propping himself up with his hands. Looking around, all the man saw was the fog of dust and a severed hand. Reaching out, he grabbed the hand and brought it closer to himself. Treating it like a pet, he cradled it into the crook of his elbow and began petting it. At that moment, his mind broken as well, he began to sing alone. “The Dark God is everlasting,   His darkness transcending,   Oh! Little children, be watchful, always,   Because the Dark God will return one day.”

TheJuggernaut Hello! The Author here, Welcome to my story! Hope you enjoy! But to enjoy better work, help me by giving feedback and some love! Keeps me motivated and constantly getting better! In a Land far far away, worlds apart … Within Mount Wilanro, far away from civilized lands and within the badlands themselves, was a collective of the mightest necromancers ever known in history. They have toppled great empires and killed the greatest of mortal warriors. It was through their efforts that all sapient nation of the world gathered and created The Great Alliance. The first of its like in recorded history. Never before, not even when the Demon King had invaded, did a threat challenge the existence of mortal kind as they; barely on the fringes, they receive no attention from the true power brokers on the world. Now, after decades of silence and a lack of action from them, that cause mass panic within the circle of the alliance, their whereabouts have been uncovered. The Goddess of Light sent down a dream to her prophetess; vivid like none before. Within it, she spoke of a danger even the primordial dragon kings of old would shy away from. She showed them gathering and from their gathering darkness would reign supreme unless every nation came together and sent their most powerful to halt their plan - or at the least delay it for a time. They planned to summon a most heinous being into this world. One the primordial dragons had fought when this world was but a babe, and even then they lacked the power to end him. So they choose to banish him from the world and into the void; a mistake they knew would one day cost them. They, the necromancers, planned to summon their god - Zenki’l - he of chaos, he of darkness, he of absolute death. Now their plans might find the light of day, and the world will end ever so soon ~~~ I am Velenos Revesis. A Powerful and mighty ‘Necromancer’. The leader of the Dark Guild Immortus Livenous; the most powerful among the twelve. The greatest of my kind. Yet, my people and I have little hope. We are those shunned and disgraced by society for our dark deeds. Hunted and prosecuted for all our actions. Our existence is considered an abomination of life. Today is a turning point for us. Either we succeed and thrive or die a most horrific death. We stand here, all two hundred and seven of us, committed to finishing this ritual (Our last glimmering particles of Hope) at all costs no matter the consequences. Even though, we are still afraid, uncertain, and hesitant in our actions. For at our door stand tens of thousands of soldiers looking for our demise. They of all nations east of our home in this forgotten land, they of Elves, Humans, Centaur, DragonKin, the tribal Beastkin, and Dwarves from the Mountain Range Califis. They do not understand the glory we seek to bring upon these dead lands. For the blind cannot see without experiencing sight first. We only seek to bring salvation to our fellow people, no matter their race. All we seek is to summon our Dark God Zenki’l and build around him a most glorious kingdom encompassing all of Nervanis. We would bring equality to all! Women would be treated equally, slavery abolished, and the destitute will be destitute no longer. The poor would finally have enough to spend for luxury, rather than living day to day wondering when they would not have enough for a meal. It is our greatest goal, and the thing our god would achieve.  Our logistician Master Frank Abdicult, master summoner of dark and vengeful spirits, a short and very slimy fellow - always wearing his yellow robes - had somehow predicted this reaction from the neighboring nations. How he did this without a clairvoyance spell is still beyond me. He had argued for many years to prepare a defensive effort to delay any resistance to the holy tide of darkness. But, we found his fanciful tales of the Dragonkin participating, in any event, a bit unrealistic at the time. Thankfully he had somehow convinced me. Imagining that cold delicacy, he called Ice A’ Creme left Velenos drooling and wishing he still had a cup left filled ready to be devoured. “Velenos…” Frank called in his nasal ways while looking at a hologram of the defenses placed all around the labyrinth, “all self-mobilizing defenses have been set up. I still think we should have a few of the weaker students raise a few skeletons to assist in the defensive effort. Those golems won't hold forever.” He turned around to stare at me, his eyes sparkling like they did when he convinced me the first time. But, I am a man of fortitude and will not falter. “They will hold long enough Master Frank of Dark and Vengeful Spirits. We only need one hour and forty-five minutes to complete the ritual. We also cannot waste any personal mana on anything, we need every last drop to succeed. Now, go find Master Sybolis of Ancient Rituals, Archived Spells, and Dark Summonings. And don’t forget decorum! Master Frank of dark and vengeful spirits! We must not forget our achievements, for they make us unique,” said Velenos, indignation oozing out of every word he said.  “Bah! What is the point for these long-winded names when they won’t mean anything in a few hours? Our god will abolish the root cause of evil within the people…” After a heavy pause, Master Frank uttered one word that caused all surrounding members to heave and Gag, “Individualism” Hearing that most accursed word, Velenos heaved like the others. “Master Frank, watch what you speak!” As Velenos berated Frank, Master Sybolis finally appeared. Sybolis was an Elf with an unusually robust build considering his lineage as a High Elf. At roughly five foot eleven and almost four feet wide from shoulder to shoulder. He was not known for much, but what he was known for, he was unparalleled at. His only weakness was his lack of communication skills. “Ah … Master Sybolis of Ancient Rituals, Archived Spells, and Dark Summonings. Its good of you to finally show up.” said Velenos in one long breath. In answer to Velenos, Sybolis simply Grunted. Undeterred by his colleague's lack of speech, he kept speaking without pause extolling his own many titles and praising any part of this ritual he even accidentally looked at. That is until Sybolis actually spoke with the gruffest voice imaginable. One would believe he was related to a swamp Creles on its final legs, preparing to either shut down or simply explode. “Velenos,” he said with a long pause, breathing in roughly for no apparent reason. “Preparations are complete. Nothing left to.... do except… to begin,” Having spoken more than he normally would speak for a day, he simply pointed to his assistant and walked away towards another group, leaving a fuming Velenos screaming. “Does no one have any decorum. No respect for others greatness! I demand to be acknowledged!” “Umm Master Velenos, Mighty Guild Leader, Greatest of his kind, Master of all arts Necromantic, Master of Shadow Mana, Lead Researcher on his holiness The Dark God, and soon to be the lead ritual point in our greatest achievement to date!” Spoke a voice filled with veneration and admiration. Velenos turned around with an enormous grin and his chest puffed out like a peacock. In front of him was a short kid with a dirty brown hair resembling a mop more than anything else. A freckled face and chubby cheeks put the final touches and he was wearing the students attire given out a few years ago; a blue robe with black stripes running down the middle of their chests.  “Yes child, what do you want?” answered Velenos, not capable of keeping a large smile on his face. “Umm. Well, you see. I am Master Sybolis’s of Ancient Rituals, Archived Spells, and Dark Summonings assistant, Lead Assistant Krev Lornum Student of Archived Spells and Crazed Zombie Manipulation.” “He got an assistant? When? Well no matter, as long as we don’t have to hear that voice again, I am willing to overlook his lack of manners. So why are you here now?” asked Velenos, hoping that his thoughts were not made true. Sybolis had a tendency to write. While on normal occasions that would be a blessing, but when you consider his tiny handwriting and his over explanative style, well you could imagine the difficulty. A page would suddenly turn into fifty.  “I have master’s final writings of the ritual, outlining the ritual set up, who stands where and who does what. And most importantly what to watch out for. He made sure to write an entire five hundred eighty-seven pages and a half on that alone and considering his super tiny and neat handwriting, well you could imagine how much we have to make sure we are perfect.” answered Krev, oblivious to Velenos’s inner thoughts.  Velenos was of the belief he was too important to deal with this, so he would throw the responsibility to someone else. But as he was about to leave and send Krev to Master Frank he heard that most horrendous voice again “This… is extremely important… we must not let a virgin… male of twenty summers die… within the ritual space or we will… all die. Our life forces sucked up… somewhere… has not been recorded… before. Velenos… no skipping… or delegating this! Read it all!”  Exaggeratedly sighing again. Velenos roughly grabbed the book and began reading. Only after a very boring five hours of reading and getting everyone into position, they were finally ready to begin the ritual. The only thing they needed was the sacrifices! As they waited for the armies outside to finally begin their assault, Velenos was having a discussion with Master Frank. Velenos said “I can’t believe he made me read that entire book! He actually believes that their might actually be a single man who not only a virgin but twenty years old in this day and age but actually has to be 1/10th satyr!” “Velenos … you can’t blame him for wanting to be extra safe. Even though that likelihood is so small this might as well turn out to be an interplanar transportation spell grabbing a random child from another dimension…” replied Frank checking off flag after flag and laughing it off without being any wiser. With a sudden flashing of light, the magical wards within the entrance of their labyrinth had been set off. Velenos and Frank separated running into position within the massive ritual circle with all two hundred and five others. It was time to begin. The sacrifices have come themselves to the slaughterhouse they made. “Let us begin!” Hollered Velenos, gathering his internal mana and connecting a tendril to the connection source, a massive mana stone unlike any other, that linked all the participants’ mana pools together.