“Zald confirmed dead! Almost all the enhanced species have been wiped out, and the stronghold defenses are all under control!”
Adventurers called out to each other amid the rapidly evolving war zone. There seemed to be no end to the good news constantly streaming in, bringing the strongholds hope. Ottar’s victory, as well as the sacrifice of the veterans, empowered them to shake off their despair and fight on in spite of their horrific losses, dealing a heavy blow to the Evils and monsters alike.
“This is the home stretch!” said Asfi, her faith returning. “The Evils won’t be able to hang on much longer! But still…!”
Behind her spectacles, her eyes narrowed. Her line of sight shifted to the fleeing Evils.
“Master Zald has fallen…? This cannot be… You’ll pay for this!!”
“Come back here! …Damn!”
Falgar watched in frustration as Olivas and the other lieutenants left the battlefield, covering their retreats with whatever forces remained available to them.
If only we had the forces to pursue them, thought Asfi, biting her lip, but we’ve taken too many casualties already! We can barely defend the strongholds as it is! The Evils still have plenty of suicide bombers and monsters on their side. At this rate, we’ll have no choice but to let their leaders escape!
At that moment, a runner from Loki Familia appeared from the northwest—the direction of Guild HQ.
“Perseus! A message!”
The use of a runner instead of a signal informed Asfi that the contents were more than what a brief sequence of flashing lights could convey. She stiffened in fear of what that might be.
“You’re to join up with Ankusha and assume overall command!” the envoy said.
“What?! Me?” Asfi shrieked. “What happened to Braver?!”
There were already standing orders in place for the worst-case scenario—in which Finn was assassinated or otherwise taken out of the battle—but they required the strongholds to act independently, not for anyone to take over the prum general’s spot.
The messenger hemmed and hawed awhile, struggling to find the words, before…
“…The captain has, er…opted to take independent action, ma’am…”
“…You’re kidding me…”
Asfi’s eyes flew wide as she realized what he intended to do.
“Morale on all fronts is dropping fast! We don’t know how long we can sustain the attack on the strongholds! Heavy casualties among the tamers, too!”
“Apate and Alecto have both taken heavy damage from Freya Familia! I’m getting unconfirmed reports that the Dis sisters and Master Basram have all been killed in action! The remaining spirit warriors are retreating alongside the rest of our troops!”
Despair crept into the voices of the Evils messengers. Every word out of their mouths only enraged Valletta more and more.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit!! Order those losers to hold the line and tell our lieutenants to get their asses back to Knossos!”
Valletta was a competent commander. She wasn’t one to let the anger get the better of her. Suppressing the fire roaring inside her, she shifted her mind to plans of retreat.
“And don’t let Finn’s lot find out about our secret entrance!” she yelled. “Stay off Daedalus Street and use the one outside the city! Make ’em think we’re runnin’ away!”
“B-but, ma’am, even if we regroup, we no longer have the strength to make another offensive! The day is lost!”
“No it ain’t! Listen!” cried Valletta as the ground beneath her feet shuddered. “Hear that? Erebus and Alfia are still alive down there! That means the war ain’t over yet! We just gotta make it to Knossos, regroup with that woman, and then…”
But then came a voice. A voice Valletta had never expected outside her worst nightmares.
“Spear of magic, I offer my blood! Bore within this brow.”
“…Gh?!”
Be it through some fluke of the wind, an auditory hallucination, or some uncanny sixth sense like Braver’s thumb—Valletta heard a voice that should’ve been too far to be audible.
“Hell Finegas!”
Her eyes were immediately drawn to its source—to West Main Street, where a lone prum stood atop a mountain of Evils corpses.
He slowly opened his eyes.
“…There’s no escape,” he said. “This is checkmate.”
His irises, once azure, were now a burning crimson. Blasting the cobbles at his feet, he sprinted faster than the wind, bearing his greatspear.
“F-Finn?! You bastaaaard!!”
Valletta screamed his name and leaped from the trading house edifice, leaving her flustered underlings to follow. Springing from rooftop to rooftop, she traveled from the southwestern district toward the southeast, hoping to escape the prum’s wrath.
She had made a snap decision. She was fast on her feet. But the prum was even faster.
“Gaaaaaaaagh!!”
A scream echoed through the streets. It belonged to one of the cultist pawns Valletta had sent to die in her stead. She had left them to harass Finn like a swarm of wild hornets, and they had succeeded in their task for only a few seconds before he took them apart and resumed his pursuit.
Finn lopped off hands, skewered hearts, let lips run red with blood. Heads flew, bathing the streets in crimson rain, before landing far away. But these people had toyed with human life, and their fates meant nothing to him. Instead, he fixed his scarlet eyes on Valletta.
It was difficult to keep him in sight because of his sheer speed. Finn was like a vicious hound, refusing to give up the chase until one of them was dead.
“I’ve left command of our armies to Asfi and Shakti,” he muttered, eyes fixed unerringly on his target’s back. “There’s only one man uninjured enough to go after you, and that’s me. What’s the matter, Valletta? Never expected the king to come after you alone? If so, you only have yourself to blame.”
A lone cultist hurtled down at him from above, but one swing of Finn’s greatspear caused the unfortunate man to light up the sky in a premature explosion. His bloody remains splattered the walls as Finn locked eyes once more with the enemy general.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do this, Valletta.”
Without even a moment’s pause, Finn resumed his pursuit.
“Where’s your guard, Finn?!” screamed Valletta over her shoulder. “You think I can’t handle one sneaky little prum?!” Still, she seemed to be avoiding challenging Finn one-on-one. “Once I regroup up with Apate and Alecto, you’re dead meat! We’ll kick the shit out of you!”
Apate Familia and Alecto Familia had been charged with conquering the Amphitheatrum in the east of the city, and right now they were heading south through district three—just a stone’s throw from where Valletta was in district four. Even if the Dis sisters and Basram were no more, the surviving forces included four spirit warriors, and the means of controlling them—Basram’s staff. These Level 5 soldiers would be more than enough to handle Finn.
“And don’t think I don’t know all about that spell of yours!” she sneered. “It raises your stats, but at the cost of your sanity! You’re just a berserker incapable of rational thought!”
Hell Finegas was a mind-altering enchantment. It granted the user a buff comparable to a level increase, but also imbued them with a lust for battle. Under its effects, Finn was unable to make coolheaded decisions, let alone command an army. In a straight-up fight, its potency was unmatched, but it rendered Finn far more vulnerable to traps and tricks.
“You’re a fool to come at me alone, Finn! And soon you’ll pay the price!”
With a swing of her arm, Valletta tossed a flash bomb. Upon seeing that signal, the survivors of Apate Familia immediately changed course. Though not as distinguished as the Dis Sisters, the other followers of Apate were a cut above the Evils’ rank and file. Their acting leader immediately took Basram’s staff in hand and struck its base against the rooftops, causing the four spirit warriors to charge like savage beasts.
Valletta grinned a malicious grin. In just sixty seconds, Finn would be nothing but a bloody puddle on the pavement. However, Finn seemed completely unperturbed.
“Sorry to disappoint, Valletta,” he said, “but it’s not going to be that easy.”
The four spirit warriors came straight at him. Finn landed upon the roof of a large brothel. As soon as he did, sixteen of Alecto Familia’s soldiers leaped out of hiding, their spells already charged.
The trap was sprung. But with the cold flames of brutality brewing within him, the man people called a hero unleashed his ferocity.