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Board & Conquest 31: Explosion!
🕑 Added 2025-03-08 08:42:00 +0000 UTC--------
A/N: Surprise! I finished that one early to celebrate reaching first top on RR's rising star, I hope you'll enjoy it!
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Goreville tackled Zelesto into the muddy lake with beastly ferocity.
The torc’s power pulsed through his flesh, filling his muscles with otherworldly strength. His muscle mass doubled in the blink of an eye and his fangs sharpened into the tips of spears. Though great fury coursed through his veins, his mind remained clearer than a pale moon.
He wielded the might of Grand-Loup himself!
The blow sent him and Zelesto tumbling into the tainted and darkened waters, with Goreville’s fangs sinking into his foe’s exoskeleton. He might as well have bit into steel. His teeth barely left marks on the monster’s armor, and his sword bounced off the enemy’s chest when he tried to disembowel it. His ears heard a clash of steel behind him as his allies engaged the controlled human knights in battle.
“Goreville, keep that thing occupied while Alpine blows up the Altar!” his god’s voice echoed in his skull alongside a whistling song keeping Zelesto’s telepathic claws at bay. “Renarde, keep singing! Everyone else, aim for the parasites on the knights’ heads and free them! Reinforcements are on their way!”
His god trusted him with this mission, and he would not be found wanting!
Goreville raised his sword again to ram into Zelesto’s exposed eye, only for one of the monster’s tentacles to coil around his hand with an iron grip. Zelesto grabbed the werewolf by the throat and lifted him up above the water with one hand, while the other unleashed a sharp stinger for the kill.
Goreville barely caught the tip of the natural weapon as it reached within an inch of his throat, and followed up with a kick to Zelesto’s face. The monster barely flinched and responded by tightening his grip on Goreville’s throat, choking him.
“I take back what I said, you clearly are no Grand-Loup,” Zelesto hissed, his reptilian eyes spotting Alpine and a small group of wererat sappers climbing his infernal machine with belts filled with incendiary weapons. “He wouldn’t need a diversion.”
Zelesto tossed Goreville back to the shores with immense strength, the werewolf hitting the dirt face-first. He immediately leaped back to his feet to find Zelesto wading through the muddy water on his way to the machine-tower and his comrades.
Meanwhile, the possessed knights had surrounded Renarde in an attempt to silence her song, but both Rapoleon and Lourson had stopped them dead in their tracks; the former carefully targeting the parasites with his spear while dodging sword strikes with unnatural agility, the latter throwing back his attackers with wild swings of his warhammer.
Considering they had the situation well in hand, Goreville rushed after Zelesto. The monster had begun to climb the tower after Alpine and the wererats like a monstrous spider. The tip of his four tentacles opened like blooming purple flowers.
Then they spat death.
Streams of vile purple acid hit two wererats, the substance melting through their armor and flesh alike all the way to the bone. Their mouths let out terrible screams that froze the blood in Goreville’s veins, until the poison melted away their throats and silenced them. They fell into the mud below, kicking up dark water in their final death throes.
Goreville saw red, doubly so when Zelesto didn’t even spare the corpses a glance. The monster continued his ascent without a pause, his tentacles lunging at other wererats to smash their skulls against the machine-tower as if they were walnuts or to tear them apart.
That thing killed like it breathed.
An enraged Goreville leaped across the air and landed on Zelesto’s back as one of his tentacles lunged at a terrified Alpine. The werewolf's fangs bit into the appendage, which proved far softer than Zelesto’s exoskeleton. His caustic blood melted the fur and skin on Goreville’s face, but he powered through the pain to take a bite out of the tentacle and ripped it off. Zelesto shrieked in pain and frustration as he tried shaking Goreville off his back. A shield of light briefly shrouded Zelesto’s body from harm, but his attacker didn’t relent.
“Lord Wepwawet, give me strength!” Goreville prayed, and his god answered.
His sword glowed with the pale glow of winter and he swiftly drove it into Zelesto's back. Ice surged from the steel tip and shattered the shield of light, which the monster clearly didn’t like. The pain proved strong enough for Zelesto to lose his grip on the machine-tower and fall off back into the lake below while Alpine and the surviving wererat sappers continued their ascent unimpeded.
Goreville allowed himself a smirk of triumph, only to choke when one of Zelesto’s tentacles coiled around his neck. The appendage smashed him against a metal wall before he could even realize what happened, his vision going white from the shock. His sword slipped through his fingers and froze the befouled waters solid where it fell.
“Go back to the mud from which we raised you, wereslave,” Zelesto insulted him. Goreville attempted to claw back at him in response, but two more tentacles swiftly restrained his movements. “We were the ones that first gave you thought, and now I give you silence.”
His tentacles drowned Goreville into the corrupted lake face first.
Polluted waters tasting of shit and trash filled Goreville’s mouth and nostrils. The acrid liquid entered his lungs in an instant, filling his chest with terrible pain. He struggled with all of his might, but the more he fought, the tighter the tentacles’ grip on him. The torc’s gilded glow hardly cleared the darkness encroaching at the edge of his vision…
Goreville sensed a large shape pushing through the water near him and the tentacles suddenly released their grip on him. The werewolf drew upon all his reserves of strength to rise back to the surface, his mouth coughing out water and gasping for air while a wave splashed his face.
A werebear’s roar echoed across the battlefield, followed by the sound of a warhammer hitting steel-like armor.
Lourson had saved Goreville by tackling Zelesto into the waters and then striking him in the chest. His weapon burst with icy magic, each blow leaving frostbites in its wake, but failed to punch through Zelesto’s exoskeleton.
“Take your filthy paws off me!” Zelesto rasped. “You dirty uplifted animal!”
The monster grabbed Lourson by the neck, lifted him above the ground as if he were a mere cub, and then rammed his stinger into his throat.
Goreville’s eyes widened in shock and concern for his ally as purple poison and thick blood dripped from the stab wound and into the lake. “Lourson!” he shouted, his torc burning the same rage blazing in his heart as he lunged at the enemy. “You basta–”
Zelesto removed his stinger and caught Goreville in midair, his claws tightening their grip on both his and Lourson’s throats. The werebear fought back with newfound strength in spite of his heavy wound, but it wasn’t enough to break the hold.
“I am through with you all–” Zelesto never finished his sentence as a dagger hit one of his exposed eyes and turned his words into a scream of pain. “Argh!”
The monster dropped both of his targets into the waters, his hands moving to his face to stop the flow of blood from his wounded eye. Goreville immediately exploited the opportunity to grab Lourson and drag him across the waters to the shore.
Their savior, Rapoleon, stood there with a spear in one hand and a throwing knife in the other. Renarde continued to sing while rushing to examine Lourson’s wounds, running past the defeated knights littering the ground behind them.
“Any idea how to kill this thing?” Rapoleon asked, his body tenser than bowstring.
“We don’t need to,” Goreville replied as Zelesto removed the dagger in his eye, the other glaring at them with vicious fury. “Just keep it busy.”
Survival alone would be a victory.
—-----
Lourson, Loyal Anvil, has been Poisoned!
Lourson was dying, and the others might soon follow.
Wepwawet knew it the moment he gained a glimpse of the enemy through his Champions’ eyes. While his mortal followers instinctively understood the danger, they lacked the divine senses to see just how wide the gulf in power between them was.
Zelesto Zemo, Lunarian Overseer
Rank 6 Commander
Bug/Alien
Not only was that creature an actual Lunarian—and a bonafide alien to boot—but over two to three ranks above all other Champions in play. Not even casting Oath of Winter to support them helped all that much, though it did force Beelzebub to trigger his Protect Champion Prophecy. Only Insupportable and Grudu could match it on their own, and neither was currently available.
Still, numbers and tactics might help them close the gap, alongside some of Wepwawet’s Miracles should he manage to draw them. He checked the battle to find Rickart’s group struggling to break past a never-ending flow of giant flies and Viviane’s team successfully keeping a dwindling swarm from entering Insupportable’s den. The dragon himself had frozen half the flying saucer in ice, but had yet to destroy it.
Finally, Victoire’s group had reached the central keep only to find parasited knights waiting in ambush there. His favored Champion and her troops had engaged the possessed Glarmes in a pitched battle, but it would take time for them to fight their way to the Altar.
The best I can do for now is turn the tide on other fronts so reinforcements can arrive as soon as possible, Wewpawet thought as he unleashed his Geyser Tribute on the Lunarian Flying Saucer. First, let’s cast that thing down to earth!
Since the saucer was within his realm of Influence, Wepwawet could have his geyser erupt from any surface and he chose one of the crystal devices that allowed the device to stay afloat in the air in the first place. Water violently surged from it and caused a large explosion to rock the Lunarian device, making it partly lose control of its flight.
Most importantly, the saucer was now coated in water.
“Bah!” Beelzebub mocked him. “All of that to make my weapon a little wetter?”
“That’s what she said,” Wepwawet replied, his eyes focusing on Insupportable.
As he expected, the dragon followed after the machine and hounded it with his icy breath. The boiling water covering the flying saucer immediately turned to ice at its contact and the vehicle immediately began to lose altitude, much to Beelzebub’s dismay.
“No!” the demon lord cursed upon realizing the problem. “The ice is slowing it down and damaging the machinery!”
Indeed, while the saucer continued to keep Insupportable at bay with lasers, it was slowly losing control of its flight path and was dangerously close to approaching the mountains below. Its dragon pursuer sensed its weakness and chased after it like a falcon waiting for the right moment to strike its prey.
“Due to extremely cold weather icing your craft, your flight will soon be cancelled!” Wepwawet taunted Beelzebub.
“Grrrrrr, I draw!” Beelzebub grunted. Unfortunately, his draw quickly delighted him. “Perfect! I activate the Rank 11 Ritual Pot of Gluttony, which lets me draw three cards after discarding one!”
Beelzebub discarded Sacred Food and drew three new Miracles. Wepwawet grit his fangs. His enemy now had a humongous card advantage at a critical juncture in the fight. He had to throw the bug off his game before he could save the saucer.
“This Miracle will be the end of you, bastard,” Beelzebub boasted as he raised a card. “I must say, his battle has been easier than I expected. It’s almost a shame I have to stop playing with you–”
“No wonder Astarte dumped you,” Wepwawet cut in. His stepmother had given him some dirt to sling in her ex’s eye earlier, and he was happy to make use of it. “She wasn’t kidding when she said you were all roleplay and no action!”
“S-shut up!” Beelzebub snapped back. “You think I’m stupid enough to let your words affect me?!”
“Well yeah, you were so weak that my dad finished you off in one turn!” Wepwawet mocked him. His father insisted on rubbing that part into Beelzebub’s face. “And now you’re getting trashed by someone with a beginner’s deck!”
“You are lucky I couldn’t bring my full power to this world, or else you would be the one eating your cards right now, you spoiled brat!” Beelzebub snapped back.
Wepwawet wasn’t exactly a specialist at reading the fly god’s facial expression, but the fact his enemy was busier trying to defend his pride as a duelist than actually playing his secret Miracle weapon told him everything he needed to know. Just one more minute and the flying saucer would hit a mountain.
“I would rather be a spoiled brat,” Wepwawet said very calmly, a sly smile forming on his face, “than a netorare novel protagonist like you.”
Some words hit harder than a kick to the face; but from the way Beelzecuck winced that one hurt harder than a sledgehammer to the balls. His card slipped from his claws and reappeared within his hand by magic. The bug began to buzz louder than a god-vibrator on illumination mode.
“You like this ‘Victoire’ very much, don’t you?” Beelzebub replied with more venom in his voice than a sea of poison. “You spent a lot of mana protecting that one…”
Wepwawet’s smirk turned into a scowl. What was that bastard imagining? “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Everything,” Beelzebub snapped back. Instead of playing whatever Miracle he first had in mind, he instead picked another. “I’m going to steal your mortal girlfriend, make her my bride, and then send you the wedding picture!”
Wepwawet saw red. “Don’t you dare–”
“I dare! I play the Rank 5 Artifact-Creature Lunarian Parasite! It can equip itself to any target creature within my Influence and put it under my Zelesto’s control!” Beelzebub laughed heartily as he attempted to cast it on Victoire. “We’ll see who’s the netorare protagonist now!”
That’s my chance! Wepwawet immediately activated his face-down card. “You triggered my What’s Yours is Mine Prophecy! If you try to use an Artifact Miracle within my realm of Influence, which covers all my Champions, I can reequip it and any others I want to one of my Champions!”
“Fool!” Beelzebub buzzed in annoyance. “Whoever you pick, I’ll just have them kill your Victoire on my next–”
“You won’t get a next anything, Beelzebub,” Wepwawet replied coldly as he played the winning move. “For I equip your Lunarian Parasite to Insupportable!”
The two gods’ eyes turned to Insupportable, who kept chasing after the slowly crashing flying saucer. A parasite appeared on the dragon’s ear and dug its tentacle into Insupportable’s skull. It had to push very, very deep to find his brain, but it eventually succeeded.
It would soon live long enough to regret it.
Beelzebub coughed in confusion. “W-why would you–”
“Because, bug…” Wepwawet glared at the fly-bastard. “There is no mind on this planet that can survive direct contact with a dragon’s ego!”
—----
Every bone in his body hurt.
Goreville powered through the pain as he traded punches with Zelesto, each of his enemy’s blows sending vibrations reverberating through his body while his own barely left a dent on the monster’s natural armor. Rapoleon jumped and leaped around to avoid streams of acid shot at him, but failed to find any opportunity to counterattack. Their enemy had learned his lesson and now covered his remaining eye whenever the wererat attempted to nail it with his spear or thrown daggers.
And worst of all, Lourson agonized on the ground in spite of Renarde’s best efforts to treat his gashing throat wound.
Quicker, Alpine! Goreville thought as Zelesto’s punch sent one of his fangs flying and put stars in his gaze. His mouth held more blood than saliva at this point. We won’t last much longer!
Zelesto unleashed his stinger for another blow, but then shrieked.
Goreville blinked in surprise as his enemy stopped attacking and clutched his skull with both hands like a man suffering from the mother of all headaches. His buzzing agony reverberated in his brain through telepathy, followed by three words that managed to cut through Renarde’s song.
“Gold! Minion! Princess!”
Other voices arose across the battlefield to echo those three words, much to Goreville’s surprise. The defeated knights and their attached parasites from earlier now spasmed and wriggled in the mud, repeating the same thing over and over again.
“Gold, gold, gold!” they said, each of them possessed by a feverish zeal. “Princess princess! Minion minion!”
It was always the same words on repeat, over and over and over again.
“Get him… get him out!” Zelesto pleaded to an invisible force. His hands grabbed his antennae and gripped them with immense force. “Get him out!”
Goreville had no idea what was happening, but Zelesto proceeded to smash his head against the machine-tower rather than continue his offense. The werewolf looked up to check on Alpine and the sappers, who had finished placing explosives around the Altar and now climbed down the machine-tower at full speed.
“It’s gonna blow!” Goreville shouted to his allies. He and Rapoleon grabbed the closest possessed knights and dragged them away from the lake. “Take cove–”
A cataclysmic boom drowned out his voice.
An explosion rocked the Altar, and the heavens shook with it.
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Comments
Void Herald
Oh, I didn't know. I guess that makes sense since icebergs, well, float on water, so edited it a bit ;)
RainbowCatTopHat
It sounded a bit off so I checked and yeah: Ice is lighter than water. I mean it makes sense, the same amount of water turned to ice weighs the exact same (just a tad less dense since ice expands). Not that it's illogical for the ice to down the flying saucer, ice stays stuck to the ship better than water and might freeze some of the important components. It just wouldn't increase the weight, (Unless the ice breath somehow adds more water? or just magic? Idk)
George R
Great chapter
