Chapter 81: Unveiling the God-Tier Legion

Chapter 81: Chapter 81: Unveiling the God-Tier Legion

"Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt." — Sun Tzu, The Art of War

•••

The disguise came off all at once.

Joel had worn Rank 50 like a borrowed coat, but the Tenth Stratum had never cared about rank. Now the coat was gone, and the island felt the difference.

The rear of the transport was still burning where the Syndicate’s first attack had torn it open. Smoke drifted sideways across the grass. In that harsh light, thirty-seven students stopped screaming and started staring, because the pressure coming off the first-year in the burned uniform felt familiar in only one way.

Apex.

The Syndicate’s second wave still came.

They were professionals, sent to bury the vanguard expedition before it reached the central temple. To them, Joel was just another problem to remove.

Grapnels hooked into the island rim.

Six boarding skiffs drifted in with their engines cut, carried by the current. Pikemen stood at the bows. Two war-mages manned each rail. One sergeant had a grapnel clenched between his teeth. All of them were on schedule. None of them were coming back insured.

Above the wreckage, Gideon Vane raised too many arms and gave the order in a voice like glass vials opening. He no longer looked anything like a professor. The mutation had gone too far. Beneath his skin, where ribs should have been, rows of sealed vials showed through. The cellar he once kept in his soul had been moved into his body.

Valerius stood apart from the fighting, beside the ruin he had made of the convoy’s trust. The expedition’s own Aura-Knight, the academy’s finest student, watched the boy he had sold.

Behind Joel, Proctor Harrison lay where [Void Step] had taken him, out of the crossfire, breathing in short, painful pulls through the wound Valerius had left in him.

Joel had already done the math.

The Syndicate had to be wiped out, because witnesses kept costing more the longer they breathed.

Harrison had to live, because the Inner City only trusted the reports of surviving officers.

And the students had to watch, because fear was a currency, and Joel was about to mint a lot of it.

"Legion."

The word cost nothing.

What answered it did.

[Ding!]

[Fate-Bound Legion: full deployment.]

[Nyx, Shadow-Blade General: deployed.]

[Vulcan, the Forge-Lord: deployed.]

[Thalassa, Oracle of the Deep: deployed.]

[Bound unit slots: 3 of 3.]

[Note: all three lines, before living witnesses, for the first time. The house thanks you for your patronage.]

The ground responded first.

THUNK! THUNK!

Vulcan rose through the grass, his enormous body standing ten meters tall.

He looked like a giant soldier made from a burning furnace. Glowing cracks spread along his arms as heat poured from his body.

His feet continued sinking through the soil and stone until they reached the bottom of the floating island.

The island stopped drifting.

Vulcan had become its anchor, its strongest weapon, and its new master.

Then the air above the wreckage suddenly smelled of salt.

Water appeared from nowhere, rising into three slow-moving rings.

Thalassa emerged within them.

She stood tall and calm, her dark hair clinging to her scales while glowing halos rotated around her shoulders.

Her arrival changed the atmosphere across the entire island.

Even the surrounding flames seemed to bend toward her.

As for Nyx, she didn’t need to appear.

She was already moving through every shadow cast by the wreckage.

SHHSH!

"Architect," her voice whispered from several directions at once. "You’re calling all of us? At the same time?"

"All at once," Joel replied.

Above the battlefield, Gideon Vane noticed the three powerful figures.

His many eyes narrowed as he studied them.

He remembered tasting a single drop of Joel’s blood in the quiet archive.

Even then, he had reported to the Syndicate that the boy was worth far more than they originally believed.

"Aegis," Gideon muttered, sounding almost disappointed.

He immediately began changing his attack orders.

But it was already too late.

The tide had already begun to rise.

•••

"Thalassa."

"Standing by," the Oracle replied, raising one hand toward Harrison and the thirty-seven students.

A massive sphere of seawater and light formed around the wounded.

It stretched forty meters across, its suspended water bending the surrounding firelight.

Inside, the air became calm and clean.

The sphere didn’t attack anything. It simply took complete control of everything within its forty-meter range.

FSHHHH!

Gentle waves of healing energy passed through the survivors.

Harrison’s chest began healing from the inside, slowly closing the wound that had nearly killed him.

Broken forearms straightened and began repairing themselves.

Even a ruptured eardrum healed.

PLIP!

A stray crossbow bolt struck the sphere’s surface and was harmlessly swept away by the water.

[Ding!]

[Bound skill relayed: Tide of Restoration (Field Grade). Units under maintenance: 38.]

[Note: the tide repairs flesh. Objections to fear fall outside its jurisdiction.]

A boy whose broken arm had just healed tried to thank Thalassa through the wall of water.

He wasn’t sure whether he should thank the Oracle or someone else.

The water gently patted his head before continuing its healing work.

"Salvo one," Vulcan announced.

The glowing seams along his forearms opened.

His arms transformed into massive cannons.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

Columns of kinetic energy and molten slag shot across the gap between the islands with deadly accuracy.

They struck the area where the Syndicate’s second wave had landed.

A boarding skiff carrying eleven passengers took a direct hit.

The vessel and everyone aboard were blown apart, leaving red mist drifting through the glowing air.

The war-mages stationed among the floating debris immediately fought back.

Dozens of magical bolts flew toward Vulcan.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

The attacks struck the Forge-Lord’s chest and disappeared without causing any damage.

Vulcan adjusted his aim by one degree.

Then he fired again.

BOOM!

A rocky ridge that had been protecting the Syndicate’s left flank was destroyed.

Eleven soldiers standing behind it raised their shields and tightened their formation.

BRONNG!

The impact tore through their defenses, wiping out the entire group.

But the destruction wasn’t limited to Vulcan’s attacks.

Across the floating debris, the Syndicate’s war-mages were dying before they could finish their spells.

Because the shadows had begun moving.

One war-mage was about to complete an incantation when a blade emerged from his shadow.

SHNK!

He collapsed before speaking the final word.

Another mage turned to flee, only to discover that his shadow wasn’t following him.

Instead, it held him in place.

TCHAK!

Dark blades pierced his heel and wrist, pinning him down.

A third mage suddenly bent forward in the middle of casting a spell.

A thin black blade had pierced him from behind, passing through his chest.

On the farthest skiff, a castellan raised a shield to protect his heart while securing the shadow beneath his feet.

He thought he had covered both weaknesses.

Nyx found the opening between them.

SHHSH!

She flowed beneath a fallen tower, her violet crown pulsing as she moved from one shadow to another.

Everywhere she passed, another Syndicate caster fell.

"Eleven down," she reported cheerfully. "And they keep dying before finishing their spells."

Gideon Vane shouted another order.

His mutated voice sounded as though several people were speaking at once.

But half the soldiers he was commanding were already dead.

The remaining mercenaries began retreating.

It started with one man who looked across the battlefield, realized they were losing, and decided to escape.

Others quickly followed.

The Syndicate’s hired fighters weren’t interested in dying for a lost battle.

They were abandoning it.

Gideon Vane finally decided to act himself.

A thin crimson line shot from his mutated arm.

Guided by the taste of Joel’s blood, the attack flew straight toward his throat.

It moved almost too quickly to follow.

But when it reached Joel, it struck his collarbone instead.

And stopped.

His [Aegis Juggernaut Class] immediately absorbed the kinetic force.

Just like every other physical attack, it had only given Joel more energy.

[Ding!]

[Charge banked: 1. The Sovereign thanks the donor.]

"Keep the sample," Joel said calmly. "You’ll want something to compare it with."

Gideon Vane gathered his remaining blood into bottles and ordered his surviving soldiers to retreat.

He led them toward the bridge of light connecting the island to the central temple, moving quickly away from the battlefield.

At the entrance to the bridge, he stopped and looked back.

"The Syndicate," he called, "will want to reconsider your price."

Joel met his gaze.

"Then tell them the house is coming to collect in person."

•••

The island slowly grew quiet.

Only drifting smoke, moving water, and the sound of cooling metal remained.

Inside Thalassa’s protective sphere, thirty-seven students stared at the three god-tier beings standing across the battlefield.

Nobody cheered.

They had just been saved, but the overwhelming pressure coming from Joel’s legion made it difficult to feel relieved.

It was almost as if one terrifying enemy had been replaced by something even more powerful.

"The battlefield is secure," Vulcan reported.

The flames covering his enormous body gradually faded.

Meanwhile, Valerius stood alone near the wreckage.

He had watched the Syndicate’s forces get completely overwhelmed.

The students he had betrayed were now safely recovering inside Thalassa’s healing sphere.

His anger slowly turned into disbelief.

Then, after realizing just how badly he had miscalculated, that disbelief became rage.

"You!"

His voice cracked.

"You were supposed to be cargo! I escorted you through six strata!"

He clenched his fists.

"And the entire time, you let me believe you were nothing more than cargo!"

Joel looked at him calmly.

"You were paid to protect us," he replied. "Instead, you betrayed us and tried to kill us."

He paused.

"I simply discovered the difference."

It wasn’t just Joel’s words that angered Valerius.

It was how casually he said them.

VMM!

Valerius’s aura suddenly erupted.

Golden light surrounded his body before turning white.

Then it grew even brighter, releasing an intense heat.

The grass around him turned pale as the energy spread outward.

Inside Thalassa’s healing sphere, all thirty-seven students felt their recently healed wounds begin to ache.

Above Valerius, an enormous sword slowly took shape.

It was a thirty-foot broadsword formed entirely from concentrated light.

The weapon hummed with tremendous power, producing a deep, continuous ringing sound.

And its size continued to make the surrounding air tremble.

[Ding!]

[Threat escalated: Valerius, [Aura-Knight].

Ultimate form projected. Weapon class: city-grade.]

[Recommendation: let him swing first. The house is accepting deposits.]

Joel pulled the halberd from his back.

Its handle warmed against his palm, fitting naturally into his grip.

His legion had already revealed itself, and there was no point hiding his true strength anymore.

Everyone on the battlefield could now see what he was capable of.

And Joel had made one thing clear.

Saving lives came at a price.

And payment was due immediately.