“Excuse me,” inquired Sid, summoning up his courage. “You’re...our ally, aren’t you?”
“An ally?” Prodotis responded. His otherworldly curtain of long, silver hair wavered as he turned his head. Sid gulped. “You ask me if I am an ally of the Tereans?” Prodotis took a step forward. “You ask the man who stole the blood of the gods from the cities of the north, where it was monopolized, and gave it to the people of Terea—you ask me if I am an ally of the Tereans?”
“Sid.” Dill shook his head and readied his spear and shield. Cold sweat ran down the nape of his neck.
“You ask me, the man who stood together with Haos, king of Terea, against the proud armies of Boreas, if I am an ally of the Tereans?”
The commotion amongst the Reincarnators grew steadily louder. The words that had previously been whispered were now close to being audible.
“You ask if I am an ally of the accursed Tereans, who in the middle of that war, learned of my plan to bestow eternal life upon all humanity, betrayed Krios, and joined forces with Boreas?!”
“Orestes! Prepare yourself for battle!” cried Dill.
“My name is Prodotis! I am the king of golden Krios, who was betrayed by the Tereans and whose life was ended before achieving its purpose! I am Prodotis, the savior!”
“This man is both a hero and a Reincarnator! A legend approaches!”
The hero of mythology leaned forward. The paving stones at his feet cracked, lifted off the ground, then flew behind him like buckshot. He charged forward, smashing the ground he tread upon. Dill held up his shield, and Sid expanded a barrier of phosphors. Now standing right in front of them, Prodotis lifted a spear formed from lightning and thrust it at the pair.
There was a flash as if the sun itself had risen. Waves of electricity and pressure raced through the plaza, along with the roar of thunder. Sid’s curtain of phosphors was torn apart like silk, powerless to stop the attack. Overhead, Dill’s shield flew from his hands and shattered into pieces.
The screams of the Reincarnators rose above the plaza.
“We’ve received communications from the Tower Capital! Shiden and the Manager’s cloud data has been lost... They’re both dead! They can’t ever be revived again!”
“Run! The cyclical Reincarnation system is down!” The Reincarnators threw down their weapons and ran off in random directions, no longer an organized group but a mob of individuals. The numbers in the crowd only amplified their fear. Their retreating backs aroused a primitive desire to pursue them in the minds of the people of Vulcan, as the Vulcans remembered the destruction wrought upon their home city, and remembered that they held weapons in their hands. Thus they gave themselves over to acts of revenge.
Amidst the chaos in the plaza, Dill and the hero Prodotis glared at each other. In the first clash, Dill lost his shield, and Sid was sent flying far away from the action. Dill didn’t even know if Sid was still alive, and he didn’t have time to check.
Dill adjusted his footing, moved his spear so the point was pressed against Prodotis, and began to push his enemy back. Sid had only been able to fight against Shiden because his protective phosphors had counterbalanced the Reincarnator’s electrical shocks, but Dill had no such protection. If he took an attack head-on, that would be it for him.
Dill swept his chain mail cloak around him, concealing himself for an instant. Turning his head to look away from Prodotis, he sprang suddenly in the opposite direction. Still wielding his spear, Dill wheeled around to Prodotis’s back; he could hardly have been swifter if he’d employed a Reincarnator’s teleportation. From that position, he drove his spear into the vulnerable nape of Prodotis’s neck.
Prodotis did not even attempt to dodge. The spear was deflected with a metallic noise, the head of it bending limply. The resistance Dill encountered felt as though he’d struck solid bronze. Dill could not believe his own eyes—there was only an extremely shallow mark on the hero’s neck. Even that slight graze was soon filled in by the burning red blood that seeped out of it.
“Why so shocked? Are the people of this age really so ignorant? A hero has the same blood as the gods, and flesh forged from bronze. It is for that reason that we are called demigods.” The hero Prodotis took a heavy step. Without taking up a weapon, he casually thrust out an open hand, pushing Dill back, and Dill was flung away.
The impact to Dill’s chest made him cough up blood, and after spinning a full rotation in the air, he landed on the ground back first. The links of his chain mail cloak unraveled and clattered on the ground.
Prodotis had not even put any Skill behind that attack. When the Reincarnator, Hero, had inhabited the body, this power had been forgotten—not even tested, but left hidden. This was the true strength of a hero. Several mail-cloaks stood against Prodotis, who had come to deliver the killing blow to Dill, but Prodotis was unfazed by their efforts, even though Halberd was among those who challenged him.
“Stop it!” The flutter of wings, a black wind...the red eyes dancing in the air all focused their gaze on a single point.
“...Princess of the Titans. Why do you stand in my way?” Prodotis stopped in his tracks. He looked up at the bizarre form of Nue not in fear, but in puzzlement.
“Because...he’s my family.”
“Family? You both hail from different tribes.”
“That’s not what I mean...”
Prodotis showed no further interest in Nue’s situation. “Long ago, on the occasion of my adventure to retrieve the blood of the gods from Phoebus of the Eleven Cities, the gods of the Titans assisted me. I would like to request your help in this century too—you shall come with me.” Without asking permission, Prodotis stretched out his hand and grabbed Nue by the arm. Her black wings beat furiously in an attempt to resist the hero, but it was no use.
“Nue...Nue!” Dill cried out and tried to stand up. Unable to do so, he fell on his face. Nue stretched out her own hand toward Dill and screamed. That old nightmare flared to life again in Dill’s mind—Iris slain and taken away from him. Once again, his hand would never reach her.
“Wait, don’t go! Don’t leave me here!”
“You may rest assured, Terean—false hero, Aegisthus. In due course, I will return to Vulcan. I will assume command of these immortal armies, so that this time I may bring down the hated cities of the Ex Machina.”
“Nue! Give Nue back! Give me back my daughter! You can’t do this to me... I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you, Prodotis!”
“Dill! Save me...!” Nue cried.
The hero then used the power of the Reincarnators at last—one of his Skills. A gate opened, rainbows glittering around its edge, and Prodotis, still holding Nue, disappeared through it. With the desperation of a dying man, Dill searched for the place where they would reemerge. Thanks to his persistence, he found it, atop the southern wall of the castle. But Prodotis soon opened another gate and disappeared through it. After that...he couldn’t find them again.
Dill shouted until he was hoarse. Half-crazed, he ran around the battlefield, dragging out Reincarnators who had hidden underneath piles of corpses and slaying them—until finally he lost consciousness.