Basram’s spirit warriors were no exception. Madly and mindlessly focused on what was in front of them, eight of them were struck from behind by Hedin’s lightning, leaving only four still standing. The sharp-witted mage unleashed another barrage, eager to wipe out this threat while the opportunity presented itself, but while mad, the spirit warriors still possessed the extreme capabilities of Level 5s. Their unnatural recovery rate healed the wounds in the blink of an eye, or they used their animallike reflexes to dodge the blasts. However…
“Slaughter all until the feast is finished! Dáinsleif!”
Like a calamitous black star, the dark elf tore across the battlefield, swinging his sword with extreme speed.
“Gaaaaaaghh?!”
“What?!”
Basram looked on in shock as Hegni sliced one of the spirit warriors clean in half from shoulder to hip. It was a wound even the creation’s regenerative abilities could not heal. Hegni and Hedin very rarely cooperated closely, but when they did, the result was devastating.
““““Basram!””””
Meanwhile came the voices and weapons of four prum brothers. Like Hegni, they entered the battlefield with calm disregard for the barrage of lightning summoned by their ally. The Gullivers carved a path through the monsters, arriving before the dark priest and launching their spear, hammer, ax, and sword in his direction.
“Grh!!”
“L-Lord Basram, what are you…? Gaaagh!”
The sturdily built priest hooked his arm around an ally, pulling him in to act as his own meat shield. While the hapless cultist was torn apart by the spear and blade, then smashed to pieces by the hammer and ax, the sheer force of the prums’ combined attack sent Basram flying back as well. He looked down at his right hand, which was now missing the third and ring fingers, and clicked his tongue in annoyance.
He raised the staff in his left hand and rang it, summoning the four spirit soldiers who’d escaped Hedin’s assault to his side, thus blocking any further follow-attacks from the Gullivers.
Elsewhere, two girls squealed with joy.
““There you are, Hegni, Hedin!!””
It was the Dis sisters. Initially deployed to assault the south side of the Amphitheatrum, they had spotted the targets of their twisted affection on the northeast and headed straight over. The murderous gazes of Orario’s white and dark elves fell on them, sending a shiver coursing down their spines as they unleashed a magical greeting in the form of a fiery hail.
The Freya Familia elves responded with a storm of lightning and the flashing steel of the dark warrior king. Flames and thunder canceled each other out, while the dark elf’s steel sang a deadly duet with the stiletto blade of his foe.
Only seventeen seconds had passed since the ambush began, and already the bulk of the Evils troops had been wiped out, leaving only the lieutenants unharmed.
The smoldering corpses of Evils and monsters comprised the backdrop for what ensued. The twisted twins invited their kinsmen to a deadly tea party, while the wicked priest composed his dark hymn for the four warriors who fought at his side.
The arrival of the city’s first-tier adventurers had thrown the city into chaos, and in the east, Orario was about to see its fiercest battle yet.
“A-allied forces taking heavy losses, ma’am!! They’re steadily isolating our troops, cutting them off from the chain of command, particularly in the east!”
“They’re using the monsters against us! We started with the advantage in numbers, but if this keeps up…!”
The subordinates’ voices and their accompanying woes piled up in Valletta’s ear. It was obvious this was no slapdash ambush: it was a carefully calculated plan with the aim of surrounding the Evils in five locations at once.
As much as she hated to admit it, she could deny the truth no longer. Finn had played her like a fool, and Valletta was angrier than she had ever been in her life.
“Damn you, Finn,” she growled. “You really think this stupid little scheme is going to help you?! You’re gonna give up on your only shot at beatin’ Zald so you can mop up our weaklings instead? Leave Ottar to die in a one-on-one? And you think that’s a good plan? You’re outta your goddamn mind!”
Her scowl deepened, and she spat out the unalterable truth.
“Once that boar bastard goes down, it’s over for you! You hear me?!”
Finn’s move was one Valletta’s calculating mind could never have created. It was bizarre, mind-boggling, and difficult to see therein any genius whatsoever. If this was the culmination of Braver’s plays, then Valletta could scarcely believe her archnemesis’s idiocy.
“Don’t think for one second this ‘power of friendship’ bullshit is gonna turn things around! Is that really your plan, Finn?!”
Though he could not hope to hear her furious yells, far across the city, Finn replied all the same.
“No, Valletta. It’s not,” he said. “It’s a matter of risk versus reward. Our choices were a pitched battle that would almost certainly result in heavy losses, or a duel between the two strongest forces in the city. We chose the latter.”
Finn spoke with determination.
“We chose Ottar. He gives us the highest chances of beating Zald.”
Though they were from different familias, Finn had witnessed the power of the boaz man firsthand. He thought back to a moment from fifteen years ago, before the Age of Darkness even began.
“You don’t know Warlord like I do, Valletta. You don’t know what he’s been through.”
In that time, Ottar had suffered tremendously. While his strength was great enough that it made others quake in their boots, there were those in the city who had surpassed him. Ottar had tasted the ignominy of defeat many times at their hands.
“But I know. I know what Zeus and Hera did to him, and I know that never once was he content to stay defeated. I know something you don’t, Valletta, and that is that Ottar will never give up!”
The cliff Ottar wanted to climb towered ruthlessly high. At the top was a pressure weighty enough to crush any common man. Even if he climbed all the way up, that still wouldn’t let him reach the thunder that sparked above it. And even if he reached it, the lightning could easily tear him to shreds.
Everyone knew that Ottar’s quest was not brave; it was foolish. Yet the man continued on his foolish path nonetheless. For he could not abide his own weakness, nor could he allow his goddess to wallow in infamy.
Raw persistence, willpower, and self-loathing alone drove him to conquer that indomitable peak.
“Ottar has the teeth to bite back at Zald! If he can’t do it, then no one in this city can!”
That was the hero’s plan.
That was Warlord’s obsession.
Finn focused his azure eyes on the magical dome surrounding Babel.
“Isn’t that right, Ottar?” he said.
“Finn and I… We always looked up to you.”
In Central Park, Warlord and Glutton stared each other down. Clad in his multitude of armaments, Ottar slowly raised and clenched his fist.
“The peak of despair, and a roiling anger. These are what you left me, and I always swore I would leave them behind.”
It was not adoration. Nor was it envy or hate. To Ottar, Zeus and Hera represented nothing more than a wall that needed to be scaled.
“The time to fulfill that oath…is now. It is today.”
Ottar raised his gaze, fixing his eyes on those of the warrior in black before him.
“Today is the day I surpass you. Today is the day my teeth tear at your flesh.”
Zald’s mouth, the only visible part of him, curled into a grin.
“Very well, mewling brat.”
It lasted only a second, replaced with a howling roar.
“You face me alone! The weight of this city’s fate lies on your back! And still you seek to devour me?”
Zald’s voice tremored with glee and a thirst for battle. Even his thick armor seemed incapable of repressing his aura, which caused the hairs on Ottar’s skin to bristle.
“Very well! Let us see what you can do! Become a beast! Cast off your weak flesh and consume mine! At long last, a feast I can enjoy!”
Ottar pulled out two longswords as Zald made his move. Glutton unsheathed his black slab of steel, then raised it up to the sky as if in prayer.
“Which will win the day: your obsession, or my disappointment? Let the gods above bear witness!”
High above, a goddess stood on the uppermost floor of Babel.
“Oh yes, I’m watching.”
From her private seat, Freya alone gazed down at the battle about to unfold.
“A baptism. A battle where the very fate of the world hangs in the balance… And, if all goes well, this will be the moment my child ascends.”
Her silver eyes locked on the combatants below.
“Go forth, Ottar. This is your greatest test yet. Do not disappoint me.”
Her words were the signal for the duel to begin. The two fighters, swords raised, let out a yell and dashed for each other.
““Rrraaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!””
Pure brute strength drove their weapons. Power surged from their muscles to their steel, unleashing a shock that rattled the very earth, and which could be heard in every part of the city.