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Arc#4 Interlude: Heroism
🕑 Added 2024-10-07 09:16:35 +0000 UTCAntonnel held his wings aloft as he tore through the skies, calmly creating distance from the other three Transcendents as he pondered his next move.
There was only one reason why so many Transcendents were after him—they knew how close he was to achieving a higher realm. Though he did not know how the other two nations found out about his intentions, at this point, it hardly mattered.
They were here. And they were out for his blood.
An unexpected boon that had come of it was the discovery of yet another seed. Being a Spirit Emperor, Antonnel could roughly tell where all Spirit King seeds within a tremendously large radius around him were if he focused. That was how he knew that another one had appeared from out of nowhere, and it was conveniently close to Mira Serandina, who was also a spirit king seed.
Unfortunately, the new seed belonged to one of Aizen's princes. And just as Antonnel expected, the boy had protective measures that could let him evade a Transcendent like Antonnel.
Disappointing. Truly, it was incredibly disappointing. But not altogether unexpected. The kingdom wouldn't be as old as it was if it was ruled by careless fools, so of course, royalty had their own protective measures.
It was not such a bad thing. The contractor being a prince meant that Aizen would protect him, and so, Antonnel could just pick the boy up at some point in the future. They would make a mistake, as all humans do. And Antonnel would be there to capitalize on it. As for Mira, it seemed the little wench somehow managed to gain the prince's favor. Which meant she would also be safe for now. Antonnel's plans were still feasible.
In fact, it was convenient that the prince, Mira, and the Spirit King girl that Aizen snatched away were all in roughly one place. There was some kind of Saintess in Aizen, but it wouldn't matter either.
Today, Antonnel merely made a casual grab for the boy thinking he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. At the very least, he could take Mira Serandina back while simultaneously searching for the Spirit King that the incompetent battlemages allowed to escape. While he was at it, Antonnel would wage war on the kingdom, enlisting the Ascendants of the Tower. From their movements so far, it was just a matter of time before the kingdom made their move. Antonnel saw no need to give them the initiative.
All Antonnel had to do was lure out the Sword Star and take him out together with his allies.
'The plan has failed.'
Unexpectedly, the Argonia Empire was in the know and was aiming for Antonnel's life as well, likely informed by Aizen after they found out themselves. It was an even greater surprise since that bastard Leonel was not known for subtlety. The fact that neither Antonnel nor the entirety of the Tower couldn't even notice the empire's intentions proved how serious Leonel was this time.
Even the Gladiator King was enlisted.
Antonnel didn't mean to go against the Sword Star alone, which was why he made a preemptive deal with an elf that happened to be nearby. But the hapless fool had gotten himself killed as soon as Rolf appeared. And now he was left facing more opponents than he'd ever anticipated, each powerful in their own right.
'Useless. I should have asked Wysteria to send more people.'
He had known that the only advantage the elves had was their numbers. There were twice as many elven Transcendents compared to humans. Maybe even thrice. To top it off, they could even revive upon death by sacrificing their birth tree. They were relatively unified too, since there was no point for elves to fight when the Wysteria continent could house them all without concern.
But all that came at the cost of lacking might. Sure, they were old and had plenty of time to perfect their martial pursuits. But none of that could truly go up against true experience.
'Rolf...'
No conflicts between their nations had ever escalated enough for Transcendents to get involved, so Antonnel had never seen the Sword Star before. But one time, he had sensed a powerful presence fly in from the east before leaving shortly after perceiving Antonnel. It had annoyed him, being seen without having the chance to perceive the other side, but there was nothing he could do about it.
Now that Antonnel finally got to look, he wished he hadn’t.
There was a reason Rolf was agreed to be the strongest in Sentorale, and it wasn’t entirely because he was the oldest of the currently known six. Truly, Antonnel had underestimated how powerful a human could become on their own.
‘To think he can just… separate fused spirits.’
That made no sense whatsoever. Yet, it had undeniably happened. Right in front of his eyes, too. The Sword Star had probably done the same thing to that useless elf who got himself killed.
‘But still…’
Antonnel, in his true form as a giant owl, eyed his three adversaries.
Whatever the Sword Star did, it did not come cheaply. Or maybe it did, but that didn’t take away from the fact that he was exhausted after defeating that imbecilic elf. No matter how useless the elf was, Transcendents could not be slain so easily—because reality itself tried to maintain them. Perhaps the elf had some use after all.
And so, that meant that Antonnel primarily had the War God and the Gladiator King to contend with. The Sword Star would likely step back and try to replenish what little power he could—a problem for after the other two were dealt with.
Naturally, if Antonnel tried fusion again, he would be stopped.
Very violently, at that. His comrades had almost been killed by the Sword Star earlier when the fusion was canceled. Though they wouldn’t have died, the four spirit beasts that had been with him since the golden era of his life, when his old friend was still alive and every day was a good day to be alive, would have had to recuperate for a long time before being summoned again.
Judging by the Sword Star’s watchful gaze, the ridiculously absurd human intended to finish the job if Antonnel was ever foolish enough to try again.
‘Annoying.’
One of his core abilities was neutralized and he was now supposed to fight two Transcendents? With the strongest one—albeit weakened—waiting nearby?
Antonnel threw caution to the wind and fled toward his domain. Only a fool would stand and fight at this point. All paths to survival would be cut off if he stayed and fought. The only chance he had was the boons provided within the vicinity of the Spirit Tower.
The ravenous winds produced by his flight did no favors for the people below, of course. But when weighed against his life, it was of little consequence. If he was defeated here, he would be dead for good despite being a spirit beast.
Part of the reason why he could stay anchored to this world despite the lack of a contractor was because he’d severed all connection to the spirit world, using a unique method to banish himself. Which also meant that he couldn’t go there to recover after death.
As such, death for him was permanent.
Even worse, his four comrades would die with him, since they had also severed their connection to the spirit world when they anchored themselves to his soul.
‘I cannot die yet.’
The dream. His dream. A dream that Antonnel and his comrades wanted to manifest into reality.
He could not die before seeing it.
“Oh no, you don’t!”
At the War God’s booming yell, a tyrannical pressure bore down on Antonnel. He didn’t need to look up to know what was dropping down from the sky because he’d fought Leonel plenty of times before.
Seeing as he was up against so many foes, he wanted to refrain from extravagant use of elementalism but he had little choice now. Momentarily transforming into a bolt of lightning, Antonnel swerved out of the way as a gigantic hand of rotting flesh passed by where he used to be. A passing glance confirmed that it was the undead titan Leonel always liked to use against him. Antonnel’s current form was already large, but the giant could fit him within its hand without trouble.
‘I have seen it many times, but it still doesn’t make sense.’
The giant had Transcendence, or at the very least, the world regarded it as a Transcendent. But upon shedding one’s mortality, one didn’t leave behind a body after death. Not for very long, that is.
So how in the world did a Transcendent member of the Gigantes turn into an undead?
It made no sense. Antonnel would even go as far as saying that it broke the rules that governed reality itself. After all, only mortals were made of flesh and blood. Ascendants were made of energy. And Transcendents like them were a will—an ideal.
Of course, Antonnel had tried to study the bastard’s otherworldly powers in the Tower but failed to comprehend how it was done. At most, he managed to produce very weak undead that could fight other mortals—but that was all. Even with all the time he’d poured into the research, Antonnel couldn’t figure out how to make Ascendent-level undead, much less a Transcendent one like this. It could only use brute force but that in itself was dangerous already.
What’s worse was that Leonel had more than one.
The sudden attack forced him to slow down, so Antonnel was unable to evade the pursuit of two diminutive humanoids. They would catch up to him in a moment.
One was an undead elf holding what appeared to be a sharpened wooden sword crafted from the branch of an elder tree and the other was a dwarg—a race of demi-humans most commonly seen in the northern continent that was only half as tall as ordinary men but probably twice as wide.
More importantly, the dwarg held a hammer too big for its relatively small size. A hammer that had menacing blue runes that constantly shifted to form new runes all over it and electricity pulsing around it. Antonnel had been hit by that before and didn’t care to repeat the experience. Though the giant was intimidating and the elf was lethally fast, the most dangerous of Leonel's dolls was undoubtedly the dwarg.
‘This damned xenophobic cretin…’
Antonnel abandoned his large form and took out the body he prepared. His soul temporarily inhabited the body and his power filled it instead, making it essentially Transcendent. With this, he’d be a smaller target, if not slower due to lowered physical capabilities.
‘Where’s the other one…?’
Leonel, that bastard, had four Transcendent zombie puppets. A gigantes from the northern continent, an elf wanderer from Wysteria, a dwarg, and…
Just as he had that thought, Antonnel’s ears were suddenly assaulted by a mind-numbingly shrill voice that made even him wince in pain despite having expected it. When he followed the voice to its source, Antonnel saw the rotting corpse of a woman with a snake’s tail for a lower half next to the smirking Leonel.
“Today’s the day we settle old grudges, you overgrown bird!” Leonel cackled, his hands spread wide. “You’ve been an eyesore for far too long. By the end of today, I’ll have you stuffed and put on display as a trophy proving my greatness!”
Antonnel blew out his ears with a mere thought to mitigate the snake woman’s shrieks. His hearing gone, the snake-woman could not do anything to him short of charging forward. Luckily, he could still feel the vibrations on his skin, but that was preferable to earlier.
‘Annoying…!’
He usually thought it was a waste to expend extra effort in controlling his human vessel’s expression—which was a good thing because he wouldn’t have wanted to give the so-called God of War the satisfaction of seeing his frustration—but this time, he couldn't help it. It almost came naturally to him.
Forced into battle, Antonnel created a blast of magic power in his location, propelling him away as a sharp wooden blade cut through the space he previously occupied. The short-statured elf tried to follow him with the equally short-statured dwarg charging from behind, but Antonnel would not let them—for while a human body performed elementalism worse than a spiritual one, Antonnel could access a certain weapon that only humans could use.
Sorcery.
With a flick of his wrist, Antonnel cast a spell on the incoming dwarg. Unlike those below him, he did not need a wand or some such to use the power his old comrade had left behind.
A flash of light erupted from his hand as the dwarg’s body was immediately surrounded by luminescent glyphs. Almost immediately after, the undead’s stocky body was sent plummeting to the ground with tremendous speed, the weight of its body and its weapon working against it.
Antonnel was just about to do the same thing with the giant, but the elf had already closed the distance. The pitiful undead tried to run him over with the sword but suddenly froze in mid-air as glyphs formed shackles that restricted the elf’s joints, locking them in place.
Such primitive ways of fighting could easily be neutralized by taking control of their joints, after all. Truly, sorcery was superior. His partner was right to study it so much.
With a snap of his fingers, the glyphs on the elf swordsman’s body warped, bending space with them as the majority of the undead’s form vanished into nothingness. Simultaneously, the world shook as the giant was flattened against the ground.
Leonel, in anger, shouted something Antonnel could not hear and the mutilated undead started to rapidly regenerate, wasting Antonnel’s efforts.
This was not their first conflict with each other though, so Antonnel naturally knew this would happen. Ultimately, his efforts succeeded in buying him some time, so he hastily made some space between him and the rest.
‘Barriers will be useless against the elderwood blade and the dwarg’s hammer. Too much for the gigantes’ weight too, though I can simply evade its slow strikes… As for the snake woman, experience tells me it’s not great in close combat but is mainly there to buy Leonel time in case someone gets close.’
He did not particularly excel in close combat, but even he trumped that snake woman when they clashed in the past. But then again, Antonnel managed to fuse with his four companions back then. Now, however, he could not even try. If he took them out, Rolf would swoop in to kill them if the undead hadn’t already done so.
At some point, Jermes had cut off Antonnel’s path to the Spirit Tower, forcing Antonnel to halt. In the former gladiator’s hands was a trident and what appeared to be a net.
Logic dictated that the items were anything but ordinary. Antonnel had never seen the Gladiator King fight, but history mentioned him being a master of all weapons—and also unarmed combat, as demonstrated by their earlier scuffle. The armaments must have been items that he’d carefully refined for decades after Transcending. A difficult feat that only Transcendents who work closely with tools can even think of learning.
‘Given how he hasn’t been one for that long, those should be the only ones he has… and they shouldn’t be that strong.’
Normal objects had a difficult time containing a Transcendent’s power, after all. An exception would be if the item had some sort of connection to their Transcendence—which was possible in this case, since Antonnel remembered seeing that type of weapon used by Argonian gladiators.
Even with this in mind, Antonnel decided that the Gladiator King was relatively low on the list of people threatening him at the moment. The man simply lacked the depth to match Antonnel’s existence.
The elf and the dwarg were the biggest threats, for their lethality lay in their tools. Furthermore, they were dead, and as such, would come at him regardless of consequence or the threat of destruction. Naturally, the Sword Star didn’t need mentioning. The ridiculously old human was occupying the majority of Antonnel’s attention simply by being nearby.
The moment he let his guard down, any of the three would destroy him.
‘I… There is no way out.’
Antonnel initially intended to flee to his domain, betting on the inherent advantages the place would grant him. But it was steadily becoming apparent that his wish would not be coming true. There were far too many opponents.
His options were being limited severely and he was surrounded from all sides. The Sword Star would slowly recover his power while Antonnel fought off the rabble as well. If that wasn’t enough, the country his partner left behind was being destroyed by their battle. It was slow, but he could feel the noose tightening around his neck. His opponents weren't inexperienced whelps and made no mistakes in cutting off all his options as soon as they appeared.
‘I see...’
It seemed his journey and the dream he shared would end here today.
Antonnel had made a gamble in pursuing the realm beyond what he knew. He hadn’t underestimated his continental competitors either. In fact, the very pursuit of the realm beyond was proof that he acknowledged his opponents, as a few more Transcendent spirit beasts weren’t going to be enough.
Yet, it seemed he hadn’t prepared enough.
'I... I have failed. I have failed us all.'
The realization that his life would end soon, Antonnel's mind experienced a moment of clarity. And he used it to talk to the four friends who stayed behind with him—who shared his dream with him.
'I am sorry.'
Antonnel would acknowledge it—he had lost. Humans seemed to feel despair when they knew the end was coming, but he was not a human. And so, knowing that he would die, Antonnel simply intended to do what needed to be done.
'Fine. You people win.'
But did they think he would go quietly into the night? That he would let his life end in a whimper?
They were wrong.
And he would show them.
════════════════════════════════
‘Gods, these old guys are really something else.’
Jerme gripped his trident tightly as he watched his betters fight.
One old guy killed two Transcendents in the blink of an eye and even did something to prevent the Sage King from doing the fusion technique that battlemages were somewhat famous for. Another old guy used four Transcendent corpses as puppets to fight. Then the last old guy somehow managed to fight everyone else without getting killed immediately.
‘What the hell am I doing here…? I shouldn’t be here at all!’
Finding weapons he could use had been a pain when he became an Ascendant, but that was nothing compared to when he became a Transcendent. It took decades to figure out he could slowly and carefully make weapons out of his power or infuse that power into existing weapons.
Then it took even longer to actually do that to a bunch of weapons. Decades of his life were dedicated to each one and they broke if he used them too much afterward.
Sadly, even with his small successes, he didn't think he had what it took to compete with the old guard. They were something else entirely. Each of them lived in an era of chaos and thrived in their own ways. Maybe he should have reneged on that promise to work for the Golden Star after all. Honor was all well and good but Jerme wanted to stay alive. He could help more people alive than if he was dead.
Besides, how was he going to live like a king for eternity if he died like a dog? Hadn’t that been the whole purpose of seeking strength in the first place? It was also his reward for being such a good person back when it was really hard to be one.
‘Seriously, I gotta get the hell outta here…’
He didn’t want to get slashed in the back by the old guy in a fancy bathrobe though. So Jerme would have to make himself useful while looking for a way out of this colossal mess. Earlier, he’d delayed the Sage King on his own—that should be enough to say he participated, right?
Surely, nobody would fault him.
This desire was further cemented when he saw the Sage King absolutely manhandle the War God’s puppets. Seriously, what the hell was that? How does a giant just turn into rotting meat paste so suddenly?
Jerme had taken the initiative to cut the Sage King’s escape path off, but now he was regretting that decision because the Sword Star and the War God were on the other side of the battle. Who would bail Jerme out of trouble now that he was on his own over here? Nobody. The answer was nobody. He'd have to save his own hide.
Even as he complained, however, Jerme’s gaze unwittingly fell on what used to be the Republic of Arkhan. Or part of it, that is.
Forests, buildings, roads, grasslands, and mountains had all ended up being converted into wastelands where only destruction could be seen. Nothing would be growing in this place for the next couple of centuries, that was for sure. Just like the lands north of Aizen, a testament to the destruction higher beings could cause. Additionally, even after the elf and the dragon died, there was still an overwhelming heat filling the air that made even him uncomfortable.
How many people died today? Jerme couldn’t even begin to imagine. And honestly, he hadn’t been paying much attention either, for his life was literally at risk in this fight—the Sage King had to die, otherwise, he’d take revenge on Jerme for participating in the plot against him.
‘What a waste…’
Jerme’s heart ached, remembering how he too, had almost ended up the same way. He was living a relatively pleasant life until the empire came along and decided it wanted everything from one end of the continent to the other. Naturally, his village had refused and was easily crushed by a single Ascendant’s careless wave.
It had just been a wave of a hand. Really, it had been that simple to completely destroy everything he had known up to that point. They had been swept aside like worthless pieces of trash.
‘The weak have no choice but to submit to the whims of the strong.’
Jerme understood that a long time ago. That was why he sought out strength. He wanted to be the person who represented the little guys. Even now, seeing such careless destruction just didn’t sit right with him.
It felt… extremely unpleasant.
But what could he do? Mouth off to those three and tell them to stop fighting? Scold them all for their lack of discipline and consideration to the common people?
‘Hah. That’s a dumb way to die, right there.’
Even after becoming a Transcendent—or rather, especially because he was a Transcendent—Jerme understood that you could think whatever you wanted to think, but you couldn’t say or do whatever you wanted say or do.
Only the strongest could live like that. Just like these three old guys.
‘...Agh, damnit. Fine, let’s try a little harder. Come to think of it, it’ll be really bad for the company if Arkhan is in tatters after this. I’m just being a good employee, that’s all.’
Jerme sighed as he got ready to charge in at the first sign of an opening, but the Sage King suddenly teleported high up into the sky. It was a surprise, sure, but he and the others could catch up in a second or two—for Transcendents, that is, because time was a bit wonky for him and presumably everyone else at his level.
Vaguely, Jerme could see the spatial fluctuations the actions caused. And he even realized that the Sword Star had done something to prevent the Sage King from teleporting further away. It was kind of like the sorcerer got caught in a net, like the one Jerme liked to use when facing beasts.
‘What’s he up to now…?’
It didn’t take long to realize that the Sage King hadn’t done that in an attempt to flee, but just to create some distance.
The Sage King suddenly shone with the blinding radiance of the summer sun as giant glyphs formed a ring in the sky, directly parallel to the ground. Space within the ring rippled, as shivers ran down Jerme’s spine—a phenomenon that hasn’t happened in perhaps three hundred years.
Barely a moment later, the sky was sundered as a few of the glyphs were destroyed. Jerme could tell it had come from the Sword Star, which was crazy because the guy hadn’t even swung his sword. Did the old guy not need to? If so, why’d he have a sword in the first place?
In any case, the attempt to disrupt whatever it was the Sage King was doing bore no fruit. Because the owl in a human’s body was smiling.
“None of you truly know what magic is, do you?” the Sage King asked them.
“What’s there to know?” The War God sneered. “I’ve seen plenty of unique powers in my conquests. All of them were cowed by sheer human ingenuity and grit! Yours will fall too.”
Now, it was the Sage King’s turn to sneer. “Fool. You place such petty curiosities on the same level as sorcery? And I thought you were the cunning one. But I suppose your head only comprehends schemes. Fine, then. Let me enlighten you.”
Suddenly, the Sage King’s body exploded into countless motes of light that reinforced the glyphs forming a ring in the sky, even reforming the ones destroyed by the Sword Star.
“Sorcery is a way to draw power from higher beings. Higher beings from other worlds, that is.”
Jerme flinched when the Sage King’s voice invaded his mind, something he didn’t think was possible ever since he became a Transcendent. Shouldn’t he be resistant to that kind of thing? He really should, if he wasn't. Regardless, there didn’t seem to be any adverse effects other than the initial surprise.
With a clear head, Jerme now realized the implications behind the words.
'Other worlds…? What does that even mean…?’
Jerme couldn’t help but grimace in thought. Now that he thought about it, spirit beasts apparently went to another world when they weren’t summoned. Was it something like that? Did that mean there were places other than the spirit world and magic apparently borrowed power from entities that lived there?
Then, Jerme’s gaze drifted over to the massive ring of glyphs in the sky, undulating hypnotically along with the space within the circle.
He didn’t know if it was intuition or something, but Jerme felt as if something very bad was about to happen. Something very bad for his plans to live leisurely for eternity within Arkhan's lands, which were the closest to the Star of Fortune's base. His intuition had never kicked in this intensely.
And his intuition proved accurate when the ring of glyphs turned into a portal that seemingly led to a sea of stars. An array of colors Jerme had never even seen before greeted him from the other side, and it would have been quite beautiful if it weren’t for the massive eye in the middle, peering into their world.
As if to make matters worse, some very unfriendly tentacles reached out from the other side of the portal and seemed intent on stabbing everyone present, every single one thick and long. Oh, and of course, the ends were pointy and seemed very hard indeed.
‘I really shouldn’t have come here…!’
No room for negotiation with the strange cosmic creature, it seemed. And he wasn’t the first one to realize it since the Sword Star shot up like a comet as the War God summoned countless floating skeletal heads made of miasma that swarmed the tentacles like locusts.
At the very least, their attacks actually got rid of the tentacles, so Jerme held out hope that he could handle the one headed for him too. The War God’s horde of severed heads even managed to get rid of multiple tentacles that came after him instead of the other undead puppets when he recalled them back into whatever unholy space they were supposed to be kept in.
Jerme stowed away his spear and net, replacing it with a round shield and an ax.
As the strange creature’s massive tentacle tried to get at him, he deftly dodged to the side while guiding it away with his shield. Then he smoothly severed it with a chop from his ax.
‘That was easier than I thought.’
Jerme was starting to think things would actually work out well when the giant eye started trying to cross over to their world. And it would have succeeded too, if it could actually fit through the portal. For some reason, however, it seemed to be in pain.
And when Jerme really tried to look, he could see countless serpentine bolts of myriad-colored lightning snaking all over the eyeball. Jerme had never seen lightning like that. Nor did he ever feel this… afraid of something.
‘That fucking Sage King…!’
The lightning was apparently on their side, so everything was all well and good. But Jerme wasn’t sure how long that would last.
Worse yet, Jerme could sense the creature’s power steadily climb higher despite the myriad-colored lightning’s hindrance. Maybe, just maybe, it was actually stronger than a Transcendent and all of them were beyond fucked.
Right now, about half of him wanted to run while the other half…
‘Something tells me that thing isn’t going to care about how much destruction it causes either…’
Jerme bit his lower lip, feeling extremely conflicted. “Don’t be a fucking hero, Jerme… Those guys all die from overwork… You've saved enough people. Isn't that enough? Now, it's time to enjoy life...”
He had lived a hard life, so wasn't it time for a nice long vacation? His village was destroyed on a whim, he’d been spared on a whim, then he was sold into slavery on a whim. Then he had to fight tooth and nail for every single day he drew breath. He got stronger and stronger and stronger until nobody even thought of betting against him.
It was his turn to have a good time now. His turn to dress in silks and be surrounded by scantily clad women who whispered compliments they didn't really mean. His turn to sleep in nice beds and eat good food.
Truly, he had earned it.
‘Come on, Jerme. You’re the Gladiator King. The most glorified mercenary in the world. Money is the only language you speak… No need to care about all those people. Someone else is gonna save them... Nah, who am I kidding. Nobody's coming.’
“...Fuck.” Jerme cursed under his breath before clicking his tongue. Despite his thoughts, Jerme knew how naive it was to think someone would always show up at just the right time to save the day for everyone. Nobody had been there for his village, at the very least. And the village before that. The one before that too.
Gritting his teeth, he charged ahead as he remembered the thoughts that had run through his head on that fateful day.
What if someone had saved his village?
What if, when the empire came knocking, someone strong enough to make them go away was around?
His village had been small. It wasn’t particularly wealthy, nor did it have a lot of people living in it. All they had were tall tales about how their ancestors used to be great people or how that mountain used to be over there.
There was nothing to protect and hence, nobody to protect it.
But what if there had been? What if someone strong had been around that day?
What if it was him?
As he watched his own corner of the world shatter in front of his very eyes, Jerme had wished that someone, anyone, had shown up to save them.
He wished that he could save them. Save everyone.
‘Fucking lame.’
Jerme scoffed at himself. In the end, wasn’t he too late?
Maybe he was a little stronger now, but his village and his people were long gone. He was the last one, wasn’t he? Time had not been kind to them; nobody even knew what they were called anymore.
‘It’s a stupid name anyway. Nobody needs to remember it.’
Agani.
It was, in the lost tongue of their people, a word that meant Bravery.
That so-called bravery was what urged his people to resist the empire despite overwhelming odds. And it had been what got them killed too. Jerme thought they should have been named the “Stupid” tribe instead.
But even then…
Even then, his blood boiled under his skin, bursting out as blindingly white flames. He felt it. Something calling for his name—something ancient. There was something in his veins urging him to step forward despite being surrounded by monsters much greater than him.
It urged him to resist. To defy.
‘Agh, fuck it. Let’s just throw one spear and run away.’
Jerme drew a deep breath as he cocked his arm back before launching his spear with as much force and power as he could. It screeched across the sky as a pillar of light, headed straight for the eye.
‘Fuck me, I really liked that spear! It took thirty years to get it just right!’
Just as he was about to turn and flee, Jerme saw the creature extend countless tentacles to stop his attack, but the spear slipped past every single one as if guided by some greater will. As it drew near, lightning snaked around it out of nowhere, each serpentine bolt a different color from the other.
The spear penetrated the barrier, and for a moment it seemed to be flying across an unknowable distance despite seemingly inches away from its target. Flinching, the eye drew away but the lightning got stronger, pulling the giant creature and Jerme’s spear together.
Until the two collided, and the spear penetrated deeply into the colossal eye.
‘What in the fuck is happening…’
The eye fell away from the portal, once again revealing the vast cosmic sea of stars and colors beyond the portal. Jerme could almost feel it calling for him, coaxing him to come closer, but he shook the feeling away. Why the hell would he go over there when a ridiculously powerful giant eyeball was lurking around wherever that was?
He’d much rather stick to this world. This world was the best. It had arenas, women, and wine. Nothing could beat that holy trinity. The Sun God Church could eat his balls if they disagreed.
It didn’t take long for the many colored lightning to creep into the portal—and for a moment, Jerme thought it would attack them all the same way it seemed to have a vendetta against the giant eyeball—but it merely streaked through the glyphs and disintegrated them one by one.
Soon, all the glyphs were gone and the portal gradually blurred into nothingness, revealing a perfectly bland sky devoid of clouds because a bunch of Transcendents tried to kill each other nearby.
A dull stillness overcame them, and for a few moments, the Sword Star, the War God, and the Jerme waited with bated breath for something to happen. But minutes passed—mere seconds for a mortal—and nothing occurred. That, more than anything, confirmed it.
The battle was over.
‘I… I actually survived! Or rather, wasn’t I pretty impressive back there? By the unholy depths, I'm amazing, no?’
Relief quickly turned into greed for Jerme, as he tried to come up with a polite way to ask for something extra. Maybe a house or some imperial princess. He felt that his request was warranted. After all, the contract merely specified that it would be an ambush of three people against the Sage King—not whatever fiasco happened today.
A Transcendent elf with a Transcendent spirit beast showed up out of nowhere, And when the Sage King got cornered, he tried to summon some world-ending eyeball creature.
That, quite frankly, was not mentioned anywhere in the contract.
Jerme was right in asking for additional compensation. Maybe he could ask for land? Not in Argonia though, because everywhere was shit there. And definitely not in the Republic because they’d just messed it all up.
But before all that, Jerme eyed his surroundings.
Everywhere he looked, there was only devastation that didn't need to happen. Today was a tragedy, it truly was. And what was horrifying was that it could have been worse.
There was nothing to be happy about, really. He couldn't even call it a pyrrhic victory.
Yet, in his heart, he celebrated a small triumph—that somewhere out there, in a place that he couldn’t see, was a tiny village with a brat who could continue being a brat for a little longer because Jerme chose to stand and fight today.
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[Fun Fact Corner]
- This Fun Fact corner was made because the Author made a bunch of settings and backstories but the characters are so competent that it isn't plausible to show most of them. He'd have to dumb the characters down or place them in bullshit situations, which didn't sit right with him, so he just let the characters do their thing and cried in the corner, hugging his settings notebook.
- Magic/Sorcery in this story is actually similar to Evocation. Y'know, that thing DnD warlocks do. They draw power from higher beings and stuff. It was brought over by the actual Sage King, who was Antonnel the Owl's partner.
- The original Sage King was actually an otherworlder. Just not from Earth. Magic draws power from beings that reside in that world.
- They couldn't show up because, in my head, Rolf would never have let them, but the original Sage King had five other spirit beasts other than Antonnel—who later anchored themselves to Antonnel when the Sage King perished so they could remain in the material world. These are modeled after the four auspicious beasts plus a golden dragon—so a Fire attribute Red Phoenix, a wind attribute Azure Dragon, a water attribute Black Turtle, and an earth attribute White Tiger.
- The Golden Dragon didn't stay behind after the Sage King's death, but everyone else thinks it's still around. Instead of anchoring itself to Antonnel, it returned to the spirit world. Its fate is unknown.
- The eyeball creature is "The Watcher" who is responsible for the Tower's oath spells. And yes, the myriad colored lightning is the manifestation of Planar Laws stopping it from interfering with the affairs of lesser creatures.
- Contrary to what Jerme, Rolf, and Leonel thought, the Watcher's goal was only to kill Leonel and even repair the damage from their fight. Antonnel didn't think Rolf was an unnecessary existence and would serve as a check against the demi-human creatures outside of the continent. Jerme, on the other hand, was a faultless mercenary for Antonnel. Leonel was its only target because Antonnel resented him and saw him as a hindrance to the peace that the original Sage King wished for.
- Jerme's tribe name, "Agani", comes from the Filipino word "Bayani" which means "Hero". I just took out the B and replaced Y with a G. Because why not? Actually, I had intended for them to be a bigger part of the story, as some sort of secret hero clan or something. But I can't come up with a story that could make use of them well. So I made them go extinct instead. lol (This is in line with the empire's modus operandi of devouring cultures and replacing them with its own, so it's actually the more plausible development.)
- The War God's puppets aren't actually Transcendents. They're just borrowing his "power". Here's a hint, Leonel shares some techniques with Voldemort from the Harry Potter series.
- Another fun fact about the War God. He has trouble dealing with single-entity powerhouses like Rolf. Even Yabo, the elf that Rolf dropped at the start of the battle, is the same. While the puppets have a Transcendent's special treatment, they can't go toe-to-toe with actual Transcendents who are proficient in close combat. This is because they'll just evade the inferior puppets' attacks while taking them all out one by one. Or they'll outright ignore the puppets and go straight for the Leonel.
Comments
GioAnime Sensei
Voldemort's power? So the War God has some items hidden in some parts of the world and without destroying said items, the War God can't die? :D
The3rd
Cool 🍪
Lire
No, I increased the number of Advanced chapter for both Ascendants ans Transcendens by one. So both tiers got two chapters today. 😉
The3rd
Infinite cookies are here ♾️🍪 (Was I behind a chapter, or did I cheat read ahead)
Lire
Thank you for the corrections as usual! Man, I'm starting to feel back because it's kind of like you're my editor but YOU'RE the one paying ME. lol
Lire
Oh, that's what the wands are for. They stand as the method of communication with the otherworldly creatures. Hence, the tiny little runes. In this way, lesser creatures "request" phenomena from higher creatures. Mana is the payment, and the wands are also responsible for sending that to the outside creatures. Also, it isn't just the watcher that can answer these "requests". There are others who can... It's kind of like first come first serve.
mechanizedbush
Tftc! Cool to see planar laws make an appearance again, and I liked Jerme a lot in this chapter. It's neat to see the contradiction in his character and think about how this seeming normal guy could have reached Transcendence. "it was not such" -> "It was not such" capitalize first word "Antonnel took out a body he’d prepared" -> repeat of a couple of paragraphs earlier? "five Transcendent corpses" -> I thought there were only 4 puppets?
Tsorov
Thx for the chapter! Interesting lookong into the background through your eyes. I already could tell that the eye was the watcher, so great hinting in earlier chapters! Now to Magic: is it just the Sage Kings Magic that is taken from outside creatures, or do all mages take it from other creatures? And if the answer is yes, how did Reivan perform magic when he has no contract with the watcher?
Lire
Thanks for reading~! And yeaaaah. Haha. Planar laws weren't really going to make an appearance for a while because they didn't meddle with the affairs of the wee people (anything below Empyrean).
Wolke
Noice chapter, especially liked the involvement of planar laws, totally made sense and wasnt mentioned in quite a while
