For a lack of any better ideas, I set my sights on the force afflicting my mind and body with pain, focusing on the sensation of it's 'gentle' touch. As before, the attention that Arevas is paying to my predicament is lower, as if my failure were a foregone conclusion at this point. Or perhaps he's deliberately giving me a shred of hope, out of sadism or some other inscrutable motivation.

Trying to understand the thought process of Demonic beings is an exercise in futility for those not alike to them. We have different values and priorities, not to mention the sheer difference in age. Simulated or not, Arevas has 'existed' for millennia, no doubt. For a mortal, that's enough for hundreds of lifetimes, and by the end of it, anything would be unrecognisable compared to the start point.

Distracted again.

Focus on the feeling, Alex. Endure the pain, find and understand the rhythm.

Fragmentation rises again, to 73%. At the moment my soul 'broke' I felt a gap - not in my soul, exactly, but between my soul and the spell: Empty space that appeared when the weaker material gave way. That's the kind of opening I need, but I dislike that I'm going to have to wait for my soul to crack further, and hit an extremely precise timing.

I can do it. My perception of time is much slower in here, and I'm not restricted by the limitations of my physical body - it's a matter of thinking about it, and the action is done. Under different circumstances, this would be an interesting way of training one's Imagination attribute.

There. My soul fragments again, this time jumping up to 76%, more than three-quarters of my soul effectively destroyed. A larger opening than before, this time, but the spell closes in faster with the greater availability of space to work with. Nonetheless, I've been waiting for the chance, and the speed of my thoughts trumps the spell's without Arevas specifically concentrating on the action.

The sword construct wedges between them, disappearing from my hand and entering this outer-perception of the Soulspace. The bindings press down, trying to erode it as well, but it's made of sturdier stuff than my own insignificant soul, taking no discernible damage. I will the sword to move along the 'line' so to speak, at a blistering speed impossible for a mortal body to achieve, creating an expanding zone of separation between the spell and my soul.

But it's effective all the same, and it's caught the notice of the Archdemon.

Too late, though, I've given myself enough room to work with. Willing the blade to penetrate the binding curse's energy, I exert every ounce of will I can muster to drag the blade in a cutting motion. The backlash on my concentration is significant, but it proves to be a stunning success, a rift opening in the magical construct. Seeing my opportunity, and realising it's now or never, I force my consciousness through the swiftly repairing hole.

---

 

Jupiter

Ok. So, the situation right now?

Fucked.

Me and the others? About to be.

I'm throwing out so many spells so quickly I've bitten my tongue and cheeks several times and caused at least one rebound for half my health. My mouth is dry like summer in Arizona, and my head's getting all fuzzy from the anaemia. And that's ignoring the part where it feels like I'm holding up a skyscraper just trying to stay on my knees.

Standing? Yeah, no. Not happening.

God fucking damn it, Jade, why'd you have to try and touch the shut-in Otaku demons figurine collection? Regular ass otaku are already super sensitive about people messing with their stuff, of course the super-demon bird otaku is going to be pissed enough to try and murder us.

I mean, he was probably going to kill us already - especially after Silver cussed him out (What happened to keeping our cool, huh?) - but still. Thinking ahead is really not her strong-suit, I've come to notice. Not mine either, granted. But...

Eh, you know what, not going to try and justify it to myself. Gotta get better at...well pretty much everything if I'm to actually be the big dick wizard I'm looking to make myself. I recognise that. It's why I'm down on the floor looking like I'm ready to nutcheck a jock with my forehead and not just flying around smiting all our problems instantly.

These things take time to get going.

Time we uhhh...

Don't really have? Right now?

'cuz, I'm doing what I can to keep the zombie wax model gallery off us, but it's like punching custard. Barely noticeable, damage-wise, and it pushes right back just as hard. There's just too many, and I can't keep up with them all between the chanting speed and my nearly bottomed-out MP.

I could, y'know, probably get it back some if I use the Skill specifically for solving my mana problems, but this place is almost certainly the kind of place that is a big fucking 'Do NOT' for that. I mean, if the lair of an Archdemon is clean enough for me to drink from, then hot-skippity-fuck, I must be the President of the State of Lucksville.

Not gonna risk it.

Oh, and did I mention that the gross mirror leech thing is giving me the creeps? Psychic creeps? Because it is. Except that it's not really grabbing me like it is that Rica chick. My Willpower stat probably isn't even that much better than hers, so I wonder if it's got a limitation on how many people it can give the heebie-jeebies to or something?

Doubt it, the others aren't really taking it any better, especially Henna - the highest Level amongst us supposedly. She can barely lift her sword after unconsciously looking towards it.

Curious. Am I the only one not being targeted? Why? I can look at it just fine. It's just really gross and ugly.

Feeling a little left out, to be honest. Wish I could do something about the demon, but my hands are full trying to keep us from being swarmed under, and it's really not going well as is. I've only got two-ish casts left in me before I'm as good as dead.

The situation, as I said, is fucked.

A jet of fluid erupts over the area, originating from the big ball o' demonic oil. A sword juts out from inside it and slowly carves it's way upwards, disturbing the formation with sparks of magic and ripples of force that mess with my visual perception of the sight. The leech and arm monster both screech in terror and pain, Silver's head and shoulder pushing their way out, followed by his torso. He falls to the floor, remarkably dry, with a heavy thud that makes me wince involuntarily. That's the sort of fall that breaks ribs.

But he's alive, I think.

Cool moment and all, I'm super stoked for him escaping, but...

We're still almost certainly going to die.

"Hi," I smile winsomely at the bear-masked Kon lady levelling a spear at my throat.

---

 

My eyelids twitch and flicker. Dully, I'm aware that my body is prone and splayed out on the hard stone floor, but my primary concern is the ungodly pain I'm experiencing, to the point that I feel paralysed. Washed out luminescence peeks through the gaps in my helmet, stinging my eyes, forcing them to focus. My health pool has been cut down to a paltry 15% of it's total, and it continues to tick down 1 by one.

"So..." The contemptuous voice of Arevas rolls into my head, "Rather than come to understand the lesson I sought to teach, you would resort to simplistic brute force? It appears I gave you too much credit."

Scraping my arm closer, I push up with the help of my sword, kneeling with it as my only support as I stare up at the caged demon.

"How pitiful..." Arevas laments. My body seizes up, the situation feeling uncomfortably familiar. I suppress the memory immediately.

I grit my teeth while spitting back venom, "Fuck....you..."

"This experiment is over," he mutters to himself, ignoring me, "You are well and truly doomed to mediocrity after all. I had held out some hope that this inexplicable incongruity about you would prove to be some sort of wild card. Truly, a pity."

"I don't want a demon's remorse," I rasp, "I told you before...That I'll do things...my way. I don't need someone...who thinks they know me telling me how to live my...life."

Groaning, I force myself to stand, shaking all the while. The sound of pitched combat behind me tickles my ears, so I resolve to wrap this exchange of ideologies up, "I know...that I'm weak. That I have a limit on how much I can accomplish. But from the start, I knew that if I was to lead, I'd need people to heed my example, and strive to overcome it - Although I need to fortify my strength to surpass myself, I neither need nor want to be an unassailable mountain's peak in order to serve as that inspiration. It's been difficult to temper myself, I'll admit. To avoid exploiting what I know in the utmost solely for my own self-satisfaction. Nevertheless, I don't need to give in to those urges to achieve the same effect: I need only be patient, and to gather people who are motivated and capable enough to stand beside me on the day of the Eclipse. Besides, by then, I'll be a different man - and you should know full well how powerful a catalyst for change time is."

I chuckle, throwing the arrogance back at the smug old bastard, "Because I certainly do. So, to reiterate: Hitchhikers like you can fuck off."

Spinning on my heel, I swing my sword, chopping a disgusting leech-like monster in half.

True Strike Bane!

-70052

Congratulations, your party has defeated Despair of the Envious Weak(Elite, Unique)!

Awarding 16000 experience.

Both halves of the creature dissolve into black sand that snakes toward my chest, entering it before I can consider dodging - not that it's really necessary, as for whatever reason I feel significantly more stable after absorbing all of it. I suppose that this creature was created from plundered pieces of my soul. Staring down another monstrosity, I don't really know what to make of the apparent fact that both of them came from me.

Time enough for self-reflection later, the situation has deteriorated significantly while I was preoccupied by the curse. The many prisoners of Arevas have been forced into action, and they're clearly one step away from defeat. The biggest threat has to be the remaining demonic homunculus. Making that my priority, I rush it down, stabbing my sword cleanly through it's back like a lance.

True Strike Bane!

-102773

Congratulations, your party has defeated Blind Ambition(Elite, Unique)!

Awarding 11760 experience.

The demon slumps over, disintegrating like burning paper into ash that rejoins my body. I still feel, frankly, horrendous, but it's a marked improvement. Windy heaves a sigh of relief.

Henna breaks away from her own assailant, kicking away a Kon woman from Jupiter, while Windy moves to cover Olrica and Angelus, the assassin shivering on the floor while he tries his best to rally her spirits. I don't have the time to add my own support, nor do I feel any better equipped to do so.

"Welcome back, Silver," she bows her head in acknowledgement, "Talk later."

"Of course," I break into a run, tackling a man with a large axe away from Jade, preventing an overhead swing that would have spelt her doom. He's a large, solidly built man, so it's not like I was able to completely bowl him over, but interrupting him is enough.

"Thanks," she responds tersely, "Any super secret plans to fix this mess?"

"I might," I admit, glancing toward the massive metal chains, then blocking the extraordinarily heavy swing of the puppeted warrior's axe at the haft, sliding back a full two inches, "Noticed something a moment ago."

"Anything I can do?" she asks seriously, surprising me a little.

"Yes. In fact, you're best suited to do so," I slide my sword down, until the axe's haft meets my crossguard, then pivot it and ram my pommel into his unprotected face, flattening his nose in a gout of blood, "The chains are covered in Ilgan Runescript - I'll bet everything I own that it's the foundation of the Trap that's keeping Arevas contained, not the Gemfrost he's actually imprisoned in and that it has a contingency spell inscribed to stop him getting out."

"Meaning..?"

"I need you to piss off a Dragon Knight," I summarise, kicking the uncaring lion in the abdomen to force him away from us, "Shoot one of the chains with your hardest hitting attack, even better if Jupiter joins in. You listening Jupiter?"

"Yeah, got it!" he replies from my left, "Shoot when I do, combine them for a big simultaneous hit!"

"Mhm, waiting on you," she forgoes arguing, pulling her bow taut.

 "What do you think you're doing?!" Arevas roars in my head. Touched a sore spot, have I?

Good.

Suddenly, the prisoners enter a frenzy, trying to get to Jade and Jupiter at all costs. Obviously, I can't let that happen. Their movement, while filled with a sense of urgency is stilted so in spite of my heavily injured state, I make use of my marginally superior agility to obstruct their paths to Jade as best I can, inwardly thankful that Alchemical Marvels' enhanced injury system isn't implemented yet. I definitely wouldn't be able to get away with this otherwise.

"I need a clear shot!" Jade complains, jostled away in the melee while I fight heedless of the cost on my Stamina and Health, fully prepared to die to ensure ultimate victory. The penalty at this level isn't a big deal, especially when success means I get the level back plus another four on top of it.

"Olrica!" I yell, aware that I'm being insensitive, but we can't indulge her right now, "Get off your ass and help! Same to you Angelus, we need to cover them if we're to finish this before it's too late!"

The difficulty isn't helped by the fact that these doll-like prisoners are completely numb to pain and seem to ignore injury. Even with multiple deep cuts and puncture wounds, blood flowing freely and a few broken bones, they aren't bothered at all. Even slicing open their throats and gutting them doesn't phase them. Puppets in the truest sense of the word, unfit to still be considered people.

The only real consequence is that the buzzing of Arevas' angry ranting increases in volume and intensity, utterly enraged at the damage to his valued collectables. With respect to the victims of all this, I take a small amount of pleasure in trampling over his sick hobby.

Angelus is, understandably, unhappy with my callous attitude, but follows orders regardless, either out of a sense of duty or else recognising the seriousness of the situation and the necessity of it. More than healing, we need warm bodies. His sudden departure rouses Olrica to wakefulness, and she staggers to her feet before joining the fray, darting through a gap in the encirclement to provide assistance, followed by Angelus doing his level best to topple a puppet with some sort of grapple manoeuvre that takes advantage of their unsteady balance.

I make a mental note to get him some extra self-defence pointers in. A healer that can't defend themselves is no better than a sitting duck as time goes by, especially when it concerns ambushers and large-scale engagements where the rest of the group can't be depended on to protect them. I'm given to understand he's already fairly experienced, so it might not even be necessary.

It's a struggle. We're all running on fumes going in, and it feels like we're going to keel over dead from exhaustion faster than we succumb to the damage taken - I'll give Arevas one thing, even through a poorly controlled set of proxies, these combatants are far and away the most dangerous thing I've had to fight since my return to the past based on pure skill alone - They might not have the raw force of, say, Desperate Embrace or the Aberrant from yesterday, but they - or perhaps Arevas? Hard to tell - definitely know how to fight and co-ordinate with one another. Each one of them can be considered a talented expert for this level range, and even beyond it. It's no wonder they caught his attention and found their way into his clutches.

Even so, their limitations become apparent first, a break in the formation is created by Henna taking a beautifully crafted Warhammer from one of the puppets and swinging with enough force to send a small Tonolin flying - or in this case, four puppets in the same arc, probably caving in the skull of the first in line.

"Now!" Henna calls, huffing from the exertion.

On cue, a ball of fire and an arrow pierce the gap, the arrow splitting into two parallel projectiles. I pray fervently that this works, because otherwise, I'll be completely out of ideas. Arevas screams incoherently in rage, but appears powerless to prevent it - odds are, that high tier Curse took more out of him than he's been letting on.

"No! NOOOO!"

They don't meet their target. Instead, they hit a wall of magical force about a foot in front and disappear instantly with no fanfare whatsoever. I can't tell if it's worked or not right away.

Then I drop to the floor instantly, and without warning. All of us do, including the puppets. The pressure from Arevas is like a drop of water compared the crushing force weighing down on us - at once my steady downtick of health jumps from a single point every few seconds, to five points. My blood ceases to flow, and the air practically turns solid from the overwhelming amount of ambient mana pouring out.

My eyes are searing with pain trying to observe the 15ft tall man in full, gorgeous Godmetal plate and blue leather armour stepping out of a portal with a huge spear casually held in reverse grip, a red tassel tied below it's simple diamond-shaped tip. He wears a helmet shaped in the visage of a traditional western dragon, accented by a burning violet plume that I vaguely recognise as being from a creature long since thought extinct, and around his waist is a belt fitted with a number of pouches and Trapper accessories. His every movement screams a supernatural grace, no matter how small.

A real, honest to goodness Dragon Knight.

The first I've ever seen, even in more than thirty years of play, their presence throughout the game's lifespan is subtle and vapor-like. They are the absolute pinnacle of mortals, able to match the might of Intermediate-ranked Gods at a minimum - but they avoid interfering with The Ignorant so long as you are insignificant enough to avoid their notice - run-of-the-mill tyrants and murderous lunatics aren't worth their time. At most, they'll disguise themselves as well-positioned informants to push people to head off dangers serious enough for them to intervene personally, but even that much is extraordinarily rare - the only near-guaranteed times one will make an appearance (Not as their unrestrained selves of course) is during an Inexorable series Cavhatirrius Chapter, the major world events that concern everyone, everywhere.

I feel vindicated that I'm on the correct Path, and despite my swiftly approaching death, experience an indescribable sense of overriding joy. If the top ranking players and organisations of the past were to see this now, they'd mobilise every scrap of influence and subordinate they could to either destroy or recruit us. It truly cannot be understated how exceptional a situation this is.

"Arevas," the Dragon Knight's voice thrums with power, dampening my hearing and sending a shockwave through my body, "I have to admit I'm impressed that you've managed to avoid detection for so long, but this farce ends here. I dislike being disturbed by noisy animals that don't know their place."

If Arevas responds, it's to the Dragon Knight, and him alone. I am not privy to the other half of the exchange.

"I don't expect demons to change their ways, but your impact on the balance of the world is too extreme, and is detrimental to all of us, yourselves included," the Dragon Knight continues, "But there's no point in debating this with you again, our stances haven't changed towards one another since the first time I warned you."

Raising his spear gently, the spigot-like growth formed upon the bottom of the Gemfrost vanishes, and my eyes are blinded. I just bore witness to an attack that transcends my ability to comprehend. How amusing - I'd heard that after the Level 200 ceiling, even physical attacks can warp and destroy reality and the minds of lesser creatures. I should be grateful that my sight was the only thing that was taken, but on second thought, I felt the sword construct inside me shudder in place amidst the wreckage of my soul.

"Hm," the Dragon Knight's gaze falls upon me directly for a moment, and my remaining health instantly plummets to single digits.

 

 

It passes. And so do I.

You have died.

 

 

Rather than the crypts beneath the Cathedral back in the city, I awake in reality feeling just as bad as I did in-game before I succumbed to my wounds and the Presence of an Archdemon and Dragon Knight. Standing over me, and moving their mouth as though speaking is Henry, looking pale and incredibly anxious about something.

Bleary, I can't figure out what's the matter with him to have him in such a tizzy. He seems to curse, biting his lip and leaning back out of view, coming back with a syringe equipped with a inch-long needle, and I can't help but be alarmed. After ensuring no air bubbles are present in the tube, he raises my shirt, aims it above my liver, and abruptly jabs downward, injecting the contents over several seconds. Payload delivered, he slowly removes it, wipes it with a piece of tissue then smooths over a band-aid.

I can feel my head clearing moments later.

"What...was that for?" I croak.

"You and Sherry both suffered a bad seizure, save your strength, man," He assures me with an unconvincing smile, "I just administered an emergency shot of Galitorol, a detoxing agent meant to counteract the effects of overuse of our brand of D.E.F. Normally that'd be €30,000, but lucky for you, you got some insurance with your membership, so it's free just this once unless you renew it after a year. It should keep you from suffering an infarction or cardiac arrest until a paramedic arrives to take a look at you."

"Skipping the part where you say 'I told you so'...How is she?" I cough, more concerned that Sherry is similarly suffering.

"Alive, at least," He sighs, rubbing his stress-worn eyes, "What the hell were you two doing? Your neural interface data went all screwy and damn near shorted your brains. Much more and I'd be putting you out to compost, for fucks sakes!"

"What we said we were doing," I give a heavily truncated explanation, feeling a little drowsy all of a sudden.

"H-hey, stay awake, man!" Henry pats my cheek, "You need to stay conscious. Alright? Can you do that for me?"

"Mmm..." I nod weakly, "Trying."

I pass out a moment later.