Holding his shield above his head, Dill ducked and evaded the flames. Two Reincarnators who fought nearby, Flagbearer and Halo, were caught in the burst of flame and perished, rust-colored eyes watching them all the while. Dill noticed that the flames surrounding the spear had burnt Hero’s fingertips black. It was just as Dill had predicted—without Puppeteer’s telepathic intervention, Hero had lost his sanity. Sooner or later, this enemy would destroy himself.
As Dill stepped toward Hero to provoke a further assault, a coat with a camouflage pattern opened between them, blocking his path.
“Home delivery service, with a prescription for Hero. You’re up, Mr. Quack.”
“Eeeek! I’m scared, so scared, so scared! I wanna go home!”
Starlight, the Jumper who had just appeared, dragged out the man in the lab coat from the twinkling interior of his military coat and pushed him toward Hero. This “quack” was Hero’s chief physician: the user of telepathic brainwashing, Puppeteer.
Starlight turned around swiftly. “We meet again, Dill Steel-Link. Well, not that I wanted to, really...but it’s my job. Until our ace’s treatment is finished, would you be kind enough to play with me?” Starlight readied his tonfa and dagger, crossing them in front of himself. Facing Dill, he started to charge, but someone grabbed Starlight’s shoulder from behind.
“Out of my way, commoner.”
Starlight tried to give an answer, but could only cough up blood. He looked down at his midsection to see that he had been skewered by Hero’s spear. Behind Hero lay the doctor, Puppeteer, victim to a similar strike.
“Now, Aegisthus—let’s continue...”
“My name is Dill Steel-Link. Killer of Reincarnators...!” Dill had already unleashed his attack, and there was no reason he shouldn’t exploit the infighting between his enemies. Starlight had remained standing after being run through, so Dill used the man’s body as a shield as he circled around Hero to attack from the flank. This attack was blocked, predictably leading into another close-quarters battle.
“How many times do I have to tell you? I am no hero! I only take the name Aegisthus to intimidate my enemies and rally my allies. My name is Dill Steel-Link! The actor Dill Steel-Link!”
One of the two kicked at the other, who retaliated with his own kick, whereupon the two leaped away from each other. How many times had they repeated this exchange? It had happened in the middle of the festival, when they’d met in front of the stage, and again in the interior of Ex Machina Amputation. Now, it happened once more, in the midst of this duel in the temple plaza.
“I’m going to finish this. I’ve had enough of fighting you.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth. Instigator Dill Steel-Link, you are no hero—you are merely an ordinary man. You only have so many cards to play, after all. I’ve grown bored of you, and I’ve gotten used to your movements—but my Skill has infinite possibilities. I shall bury you with a new technique.”
“Stop blathering and try me. I’ll crush your attempt and watch your heart break.”
“...Laughable! Let me show you my band of heroes.” With his spear in hand, Hero came at Dill with a low stance. Although he was swift, it was otherwise an ordinary charge...but the outline of his body seemed to be blurred. The blur expanded, creating two more Heroes, one on either side of the original.
This was most likely a telepathic illusion, so Dill now had to distinguish the original and take him out. The three Heroes fanned out in front of Dill, all of them striking at him with their weapons, and the timing between their attacks was cunningly varied.
Dill tried to guess which was the real Hero from their sight lines and the orientation of their bodies, but gave up. Hero’s illusion did not display any of the visual fraying characteristic of illusions created by low-ranking Whispers. Instead, Dill decided to view all three Heroes as genuine and deal with them all!
With a snap of his wrist, Dill hooked the spear coming from his left with his shield and deflected it. He locked his own spear with the spear coming from his right. As for the spear that approached him head-on, he gave that as much focus as he could muster, dodging it at the last second.
“You’re kidding me...” Dill breathed. He’d dealt with Hero’s attack perfectly, but he was left stunned. All three Heroes wielded spears with real weight which did not disappear when touched.
And at that moment, a fourth Hero manifested behind Dill and thrust his spear into Dill’s side from the back.
“This is...my Iliad!” The Reincarnator cried. Four fully physical Heroes, completely surrounding Dill, once more thrust their spears at him. It seemed he had nowhere to run, but Dill made a final desperate effort. Twisting his body, he pulled the spear piercing his flank—and its wielder—closer. Then, he swung the copy of Hero holding the spear around, leaving Dill outside of the circle and the copy now within it. The Hero who had stood behind him was pierced by the spears of the other three, screaming as blood gushed from his wound, before vanishing from sight.
“A physical illusion?!”
“That’s right! I used the psychokinesis of a Conductor to solidify the illusions of a Whisper, giving them transient flesh. I wouldn’t underestimate them if I were you. Each copy shares my fighting ability!”
The three remaining Heroes each attacked with a differently enhanced spear. One spear sported a force field, another dragged flames behind it, and the third crackled with lightning. Any of these Skill-imbued spears would do serious damage if they even grazed Dill, and he could see no opening in the assault. As the moments flowed on, so did Dill’s blood from the wound in his flank.
Dill’s expression was pitiful to behold. His rusty hair was matted with sweat and the shadows cast on his face were dark, like an omen of his own death. Hero became even more savage, filled with even more rage than before.
“I should thank you—it was you who gave me the idea for this technique! If we need a hero, I might as well become one. And then we might as well have more! Like this, Caesar shall no longer need to fear Brutus’s dagger. One man will rule as one hundred heroes! Instigators such as you could start an uprising of thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of my subjects, but I would still stamp it out! In this moment, I have accomplished my heroic ideal!”
The three Heroes crouched down together, then moved to leap at Dill. But then, the cobblestones at their feet shattered. A thick arrow quivered in the floor. Hero turned—the bolt had been fired by the bard, Rick Wake, who knelt down at the opposite edge of the black swamp, steadying his long-barrelled crossbow.
The sound of a metallic strike followed, and a shadow flew across the swamp. It was the battle priest Mace, who had sent the warrior flying with his club—and then in a flash arrived the adjutant of the brigade, Hathaway. He landed on the far side of the battle and slashed at the Heroes.
The assault from the mail-cloaks forced two of the Heroes to stop in their tracks. The one in the center tried to continue his attack against Dill, but found he could not. He turned to face a spear coming toward him, and managed to hold it at bay with his psychokinesis. Hero was stunned.
“I thought I killed you...!”
“Too bad, huh?” With a spear wound to his abdomen and his body scorched all over, it was Whitehead, who had challenged Hero once and lost. “I have been revived, thanks to the blood of the hero...although I had to use about five years’ worth. Prodotis is Redguard’s hero. Even in death, he will ally with us.”
“Silence! I am Prodotis! What are the rest of you Reincarnators doing?!” Hero looked around, expecting to see allies, and for the first time he understood the disaster that had fallen on the plaza. The sky was blanketed by black feathers, and the ground had sunk beneath black ooze. Overturned armored cars and the bodies of Hero’s fallen comrades were strewn throughout. The only ones still able to put up a fight were the Project Leader, Shiden, and the Manager Summoner. All other Reincarnators had lost their commanders and ceased to function as a group.
“When you are calm, you lack ambition and waver in indecision. When you become excited, your vision narrows. Eugene...you are not a hero. You have too many weaknesses.” Dill ceased his performance of a man who had been cornered and advanced on Hero, his armaments clanging against his chain mail cloak. His approach was nothing short of fearsome.
“What...what is happening?”
“You believed too much in your own strength and refused to cooperate with others. This is the result. Among the subordinates you treated with such scorn, there were surely those who could have compensated for your weaknesses.”
“Scorn? No, I simply...”
“You scorned your comrades,” Dill repeated, with emphasis. He drove home that pivotal word. Hero probably had more to say, but Dill’s words were forceful, without any hesitation. Therefore, they were convincing. Hero started to believe them in spite of himself. This was the power of the actor, Dill Steel-Link.
“I am but another mortal man, fated to die. I have many weaknesses. But I also have comrades. Eugene, you are alone. The words you deliver from on high will resonate in no one’s heart.” Dill raised his voice to a booming pitch. “Halberd Brigade! We’re forcing our way through!”