Chapter 100: Miscalculation

Kadre, alongside some other evacuees, had mostly gone outside and cheered just as the dome fell apart and the mountainous beast was no longer moving. The earth-shaking steps and growls had completely stopped. For the first time in hours, the bunker’s ceiling stopped shedding dust, and the silence that followed felt almost unreal.

Meanwhile, the army of knights and adventurers were seen swarming the outskirts of the city, an act many interpreted as having ended their battle with the Ravagers.

For safety reasons, Kadre decided to wait an hour more before venturing into the city once more.

Now, jumping over the roof, she noted that while a part of the city was on fire, some parts looked completely razed to the ground while the other parts remained perfectly fine. Smoke hung low over the streets, and the smell of ash and scorched stone clung to her throat. And somehow, she felt relief.

At least it wasn’t completely destroyed.

Somewhere out there, her client was either still breathing or buried beneath that mess of ash and stone.

She continued sprinting.

*********

Asmodeus burst into the room in a fit of rage. The doors slammed against the stone walls hard enough to shake the lamps on the wall.

“We never agreed to use the Godbeast, Nyx! That was such an important asset! And how the hell did you even find out of that!? Talk!!” The Demon Lord roared, slamming his hand down on the table.

The Vampire Progenitor sat with a book in hand, and for a long while she was silent, the only noises in the room coming from the turning of pages, the crackling of the wood burning in the fireplace. And the sound of the Demon Lord’s muted, ragged, heavy breathing.

She did not even look up.

“Nyx, who-“

“Demon Lord Asmodeus,” Aldridge cut him off. “I am of the view that even demons can behave calmly, much less a lord of those demons.”

“Speak to me one more time, bloodsucker. And I’ll have my dogs eat your flesh.” He drew closer to Nyx now. “Why would she go contrary to our agreement? Tell me, how did you two know about the Godbeast—”

“Stop being such a child, Asmodeus. How we found out about it is of no concern. It was a necessary measure. I am inclined to say we’ve even found one of the Fragments, a relic. So at least the Godbeast’s death was not in vain. With the type of power I am going to offer you when we are done finding them all, even a Godbeast will look trivial. Stop making a fuss and let’s get to phase two of our plans.”

“Nonsense.” He punched the table to splinters. “It’s not even up to a week you came here, with your nonsense prophecy. And now you’ve cost me a Godbeast.” He growled. “Let me tell you this now, Nyx. If you ever manage to fail…. remain perfectly aware that I will come for your head. Even if I die trying.”

And in the same fit of fury, he stormed out, all but destroying the doors. The echo of it rolled down the corridor long after he had gone.

When he left, Nyx finally set down her book.

“Tell me, Aldridge. How did our plan end up under the eyes of those Human Generals? The fact that they were there meant the loss of assets was always inevitable.”

“It is simply a mistake on our part. And we did achieve a level of success, did we not? No need stressing over what has already happened. We have deduced the general location of the other Fragment, as well as successfully verified the tracking capability of the other Fragment you possess, however limited it is. And the fact that a Godbeast showed up is enough to draw the attention of a General anyway, it was inevitable.”

Nyx picked up a cup that dripped with red. She took a little, deliberate sip. Her crimson eyes lingered on the dancing flames, unbothered, as though the Demon Lord’s threat had been nothing more than a passing draft. It was worth nothing to her.

“True. We can always find the Demon Lord a new Godbeast. Send for the girl once more.”

Aldridge bowed his head without a word, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “As you wish.”

*****

The first sword strike cleaved an entire hill in half. It missed Mikael’s face by mere inches, but he was not getting a time out just yet. The shockwave alone tore the bark off every tree in its path and sent a wall of dust rolling into the night.

But as soon as Mikael dodged, the General completely let go of his sword, and in the brief seconds it would normally take for the weapon to touch the ground, he delivered a flurry of blows, a few of which completely caught Mikael off guard. Fists, elbows and knees, each one carrying power to draw blood from his opponent.

As soon as Mikael lost his balance, the General picked him up by the leg and slammed him, spine and all, into a tree. That drew a mouthful of red liquid from the boy’s mouth. The trunk groaned and splintered behind him, and for a moment, the world was nothing but ringing.

Seeing the lad was disoriented for a while, General Rodain stepped back and picked up his sword in that brief window. He did not bother to rush. In his eyes, the boy was already finished.

“At least cut me some slack, tough guy. You are what, a few hundred times stronger than me—” The boy coughed. The next moment Mikael willed mana from the scythe into himself, his form shifted and he disappeared.

The very next moment he reappeared, he swung an upward arc from below General Rodain as Ragnarok’s blade cut through the air in a resounding shriek.

General Rodain put his sword a few inches from his body, right where the boy’s blade would meet it. There was no doubt as to the outcome of this particular clash.

And yet, the blade was sliced through in a perfect cut.

The slash ran from the General’s navel all the way up to his chest. Mikael leapt back in the time it took the General to completely understand what had just happened to him. And blood flowed. It dripped onto the cracked shell below, hissing where it landed from the heat.

The scythe had cut through his sword, forged with mithril and mystic dust, two metals that basically made a weapon almost indestructible. Almost. Rodain had now witnessed it himself. The severed half of the blade spun through the air and buried itself in the shell of the beast with a dull thud.

“That scythe, boy, where did you get it?”

The question was not idle curiosity. A weapon that cut through mithril like paper was no ordinary relic, and the Empire would most definitely want to know exactly where it came from.

“I fail to see how exactly that is your business. If we are done, then I’ll be leaving.” His voice was calm, but his grip on Ragnarok was white-knuckled.

Mikael turned away. He swerved his head forty degrees as something flew by where his head had just been at breakneck speed. It was the hilt of the General’s sword, and it brought down the tree it hit.

“You haven’t even beaten me yet,” General Rodain pointed out.

The large wound suddenly burst into flames and the bleeding stopped as it slowly began to close up in certain places. As soon as he was done, he let out his aura, the full pressure of an Archsage Rank!

And it crushed the surroundings; trees snapped and broke in halves, rocks shattered and the ground, or rather the shell of the Godbeast, cracked so much the insides of the ‘earth’ could almost be seen.

Thanks to Ragnarok, and the little charge Mikael had given it, its wielder was able to resist most of the tyrannical pressure.

Most of it.

Whatever Ragnarok could not block and absorb hit him hard. His knees buckled, and his bones creaked as though a mountain had settled upon his shoulders. Ragnarok trembled in his grip, its hunger pressing against his mind, begging him to finish what they had started.

“You have somewhat proven that you are quite the nut to crack, Mikael. So I’ll take you down with my full strength, as a form of respect for your person.”

Mikael never got to make the comeback statement as the General appeared right before him, in the blind spot of his weapon. In his hand, a very hot light had gathered, one Mikael understood to be greatly similar to the spell used to drill a hole through the Godbeast! His eyes widened in shock. He had horribly miscalculated; the General just might be out to end him.

Too close. The heat licked at his face, and every instinct in his body screamed at him to move, but his legs refused to answer.

“Pulsar.”

However, at the very last second, an intervention occurred. Someone had come in and kicked the General’s hand away to another direction as the spell activated.

As soon as it was done firing, Mikael heaved a sigh of relief. The little beam of energy sliced through trees and ventured off into the night sky. The tips of his hair were singed, and the heat of it still lingered against his cheek.

As for his saviour…

A voice, sharp as a whip and just as furious, cut through the smoke.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Rodain?! Are you nuts?”

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