Rem put the report down; his expression caused Scathach to sag. It was a mix of concern, pity, and disproportionate level of annoyance. The badger couldn’t blame him; Aion’s capture was tragic. Even Ebony melancholically shared the sentiment in the corner.

“How accurate is the intel?” Ebony asked the badger.
 
“I couldn't say,” Scathach admitted. “By the time I get there, the fight was over, but I still managed to count the body.”

“51 confirm deaths, 25 are civilians,” Rem chillingly narrated.“Unknown number capture. The witness reported an ambush by robotic cyborgs right in the middle of an inn. Someone told Illma Aion was growing a spine. My money was on the old mayor who, to quote the president of the USA, is low energy. Do I get my fact correct?”

Everyone nodded.
 
“Great,” Rem facepalmed. “Illma has a hostage, but she wasn't invincible. Melody, how is Project F-U”
 
“Cytortia already adapted the Black Despair,” Scathach updated the information. “Melody's dispenser also progress as expected.”

That was when the demoness arrived.
 
“I finish the dispenser,” Melody tossed the disk to Scathach who caught it without turning around. “Is it true that Aion got capture?”
 
“Yes,” Rem answered.

 “Good,” Melody replied coldly. “Shame Illma didn’t kill him.”
 
Scathach remained silent. Ebony glanced at Rem, who returned with a look of I-told-you-so. After a solid minute, Ebony finally conceded Rem the point.
 
“Melody,” Ebony called. “That’s too much.”

“Come on, Ma!” The girl shouted. “He came with Port to kick us out of our home, and you expected me to be sorry!? He's asking for this to happen when he chose that hawk from Enma's clan over us. Say what you want, but he deserves everything he is getting!”

"Sadly, you aren’t joining him,” Rem calmly stated. ”Ebony, please rein in your daughter's hormones, or I will shove her down her porcelain throne.”

Melody felt like someone whipped her face with a sledgehammer. 
 
"Oh shit, ” Scathach mouthed, quickly evacuating from the verbal smackdown.
 
”You know what,” The demoness murderously growled. ”I have enough of you. This past few weeks you are calling the shot, while we do all the work. What give you the right to order me like your footsoldiers.”

Rem responded by calmly putting his revolver on the table.

"Maybe the fact that I can keep my genitalia under control," Rem spoke like he was ordering foods from restaurants. ”But if you don’t believe in my direction, you can grab the gun and shoot me.”
 
Melody stood stunned at this unexpected outcome, but she knew Rem better these days. No matter what she did, he would have a point she couldn't refute with utterly losing.

Rem lifted the gun.
 
“Last chance,” he waved the gun in front of Melody. “Are you taking it?”
 
“Stop with the game, what are your point?”
 
Rem twirled the gun.
 
“My point is your immaturity is unacceptable,” Rem said, catching the gun in its mid-spin. “But even that pales in comparison to your moronic vitriol and petty arrogance. Let start a thought experiment: what would happen if you shoot me?"

”You die, ” Melody answered.
 
Rem rolled his eyes.

”Yes Melody, people die when they're killed; National news right there. What happens is simple; you'll get fired, and Cytortia will be in charge. The same logic applies to Millian. Let assume we put Illma out of her misery, off the dragon and fire Port and Taku Enma. News flash, we need to replace the head honcho. Sadly for us, Aion is the best and only option from the command chain. We need him alive and on our side whether you like it or not."

“That’s bull,” Melody got angrier. “We can choose anyone to do that.”
 
“Chose with what? A piece of self-advertisement?” Rem’s words cut deep. “What would stop the Seven Continental Alliance from installing a new sock-puppet? Aion is our best bet to hold things together, and you would let him die because he made the wrong decision. A decision he risked his life to correct no less. And this is only one town! Just One! Now do you see why you can't rule an entire continent, Mel! The only thing I would trust you to run is Disney.”

“You trust her to run multi-billion enterprise,” Scathach screeched. “Are you crazy?”

“No, I trust her to run the mouse to the ground."

Melody didn’t know how to feel about how Scathach breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay,” Melody knew she was losing. Rem’s point wasn't something she could survive. “I admit that I might be too brash, but I can do this, I just need more time!”
 
“Time?” Rem laughed. “No, no, no, you don't get the point. You are like a Liberal Art student signing up to work in the comic book industry. You have an agenda, and you refuse to see everything but that agenda. Let me ask you this what is the job of a king or queen?"

“Ruling people!"

 “Mel,” Rem said flatly. “The amount of time you need is a length between zero and infinity. Your chance of being a good ruler is equal to me, a Deplorable, becoming Democrat party’s presidential nominee."

Rem stood up from the table. Some felt a mic dropped in the background.
 
…
 
A few days later.
 
“Mayor, pour me another glass,” Illma Zoldia Road stretched out a wine glass.

Mayor Port poured her another filled, suppressing the pained expression as he sacrificed his prize wine. Illma’s arrival was a curse. Port couldn't do anything with the mountain of complaint Millian threw at him. But despite the abysmal approval rating, no one dared to come out to protest against an Untouchable. No one in Phantasia was insane enough to rise against the authority of the gods, Seven Continental Alliance, and the Aurorin’s noble.

Port shivered. He understood their feeling. In less than 127 hours, Illma had displaced hundreds of people, killed more than sixty people, and orphaned many other. She created a mountain of corpses to built artilleries and a marble country home. What did she get? Nothing; not even the slap on the wrist.
 
Reporting the seismic activity to his higher up was the worse decision Port ever made. Now he was facing an approval crisis, about to see he home town engulfed in flame, and lost his best wine.

Someone please ended this nightmare.

Taku chose that moment to stumble into the balcony. The Catman must admit that the view was superb. Sadly, the knowledge of the massacre he witnesses to build the place made his stomach churn. Taku believed those trashes were only fit to wash his feet, but that didn't warrant them to be butcher like an animal. Even he thought that was unnecessary cruelty.
 
 “Lady Road, the Signum Artilleries will be prime in the next fifteen hours. We are awaiting your order.”

The two lumbering mass of metals guarding the door shifted, sending the tremor through Taku's spine. The X-cution Illma chose for her home-security was built like a tank. To be specific, they were a tank equipped plasma launcher, wind-magic, and gravity manipulating system. Those things reduced the entire area to smithereens. Ebony Solarmaria was a called the Duchess of Craft for a reason. Only B-rank and above had a chance against them.

Taku groaned. Why did he deserve this?

Illma tossed her wine glass to the side. The glassware shattered to pieces.

“Unacceptable, I want the artillery ready in eight hour at the latest.”
 
Taku and Port gulped.
 
No one doubt Illma would lose. Who would even dare challenge an Untouchable?

…
 
Kilometers away from Millian, at that moment.
 
“F-U 2 to 4 is ready,” Cytortia dragged herself to the blackboard of destiny. Black rings and soul-sucking cloud reflected from her eyes. Still, she smiled with triumph despite her overworking.

“That quickly,” Rem was surprised. “I'm impressed. Here I am, thinking we need to cut the 4th out due to time constraint, then you went ahead and made miracle happened. How did you do it? I think I was asking too much with F-U 4.”

“We're about to challenge the Untouchable,” Cytortia sank to the share from overwork. “I bring my A-game.”
 
“Thank you,” Rem said. “We owed you everything, Cy.”
 
“Give yourself more credit, you are the one who found a way around the X-cution,” Cytortia said. “And you better hurry. Ebony was finishing the sword.”
 
…
 
Ebony had been working on this blade for two days straight.

Several months ago, Satholia gifted Horizon Dawn an ore. Ebony never saw anything like it; godlike Mana intensity, malleable, and perfect density. It was an ideal material to work with; almost too perfect to be true. With this miracle rock in her hand, the Duchess of Craft pulled no stops. She used every technique she had to refine the ore.

The gang also bought her another material, while not as absurd as the ore, it was still insane. A crystal naturally charged with starlight, a tear-shaped pearl that resonated with her core. They were so rare that the only idea Ebony had was grinding them with Mithrill and Andamantine powder for a special additive.

Ebony sighed. The ingot casting process was hell on Earth. The melt's temperature stood high enough to destroy traditional mold. Cytortia had to co-op an Alchemical coolant to make sand-casting possible. On the bright side, the forging process went smoothly. The craftsmanship was one of a kind.

However, the tempering was where she hit the snag. After the magical blade blew up her fifth furnace, Ebony decided to call the meeting.
 
…
 
“Mom,” Melody looked at the blade awkwardly. “Is this blade sentient? And why are you telling us not to stay in front of it.”
 
“It is sentient,” Ebony glared at the glowing blade. “Sentient sword like this often chose their wielder and contracted them through a blood pack. The general rule is that only an enchanted sword gain sentient. That was a fact until this child comes along."

On one side of the table, Scathach drew out Luxinna’s blood. On the opposite end, Cytortia and Rem looked at each other nervously.

“So we cannot use a normal furnace,” Cytortia said. “Is it that dangerous?”

A light shooted out of the sword and blasted rock in the distance to dust.
 
Everyone looked at the blade with newfound respect.

“That should answer your question!” Ebony ranted. “That blasted beam destroyed five furnaces! Five! I work my craft for two decades, and this is the first time I’ve seen a weapon this rebellious.”

“Comrades,” Rem said. “I have an idea.”

Spoiler: no one like Rem’s idea.
 
…

“This is a terrible idea,” said Melody.
 
The idea descended from a certain goddess’s last-ditch attempt to end a ghost hoard of her creation. Pole and string suspended the blades over the tub of oily, unholy liquid feared as the Black Despair. Cylinders of blue-gel containing 5 kilograms worth of the most volatile liquid within a thousand miles stood around the unholy ritual. Hoard of ghost started gathering around the site, turning the area hostile.

Ebony quickly dripped Luxinna’s blood on the thirsty blade, and flee panicked flee as the blade shone dangerously. Normally Scathach would do the job, but it was her turn for recon, so the duty fell to Ebony.
 
Luxinna shivered as the ghost started appearing in the air. She sincerely missed the forest right now.
 
“Isn’t this the method I used to create ghost detecting crystal?” Cytortia nodded.

“Yes,” Rem nodded, looking the crystal in his hand for confirmation. “You managed to create a tame and usable sentient detector with this method. Scathach told me the crystal have a soul; not two or three, but one soul that must originate from the ghost hoard. There are only two ways this is possible. You either created a spirit out of nothing, or the army of wild ghost rushed into the Angel Tear stone, cannibalized each other, leaving only the strongest spirit alive to be further refined by the flame. I believe we can’t create a living spirit, so I gamble on the later.”

Luxinna clapped in enlightenment.
 
“So modified what Cy did to create Ghost Detecting Crystal, and feed the ghost hoard to the blade," the elf said. "Will that works?”

“I don’t know,” Rem nodded. “But we will find out tonight.”

A footstep arrived behind them.
 
“No,’ Scathach said grimly. “You won’t have a chance. Illma…”
 
Rem sighed. It appeared they couldn’t complete F-U 5 in time after all.

“The artillery is nearly up, am I right?” Rem said. “Knowing her, she will call the dragon up for a fight. Now, what do we do?”
 
”What do we do!?” Luxinna cracked her finger. “We get in position and kick her ass.”
 
“Yeah, like it will be that simple,” Rem said. “Scathach, what is our main problem?”

“Scrap the plan to interrupt the bombing,” the warrior maid answered. “Illma's using remote-control mine under a private signal. You won’t be jamming it with what you have on hand. Striking Illma directly won't do the job because the defense parameter is too tight. Good news is that Taku and Port already evacuate civilians from the danger-zone, barring some stubborn families refusing to move.”

“Wow,” Melody mused. “How considerate of them?”
 
Ebony let out a dry laugh.
 
“No, Port's just afraid that they might rise for his head after Illma left,” the demoness corrected. “Port is a coward, but he isn't an idiot.

Cytortia sulked.
 
“So we go in with the battle plan.”
 
“Yes,” Scathach answered.
 
Ebony looked toward Millian with emotion. This week she lost her home for the last decade, got betrayed by two close friends, and now her entire community was getting suck into a warzone. But that was nothing compared to what she about to do.
 
“Here what will happen,” Ebony said. “Melody, go with them.”
 
“Mom?”
 
“They need someone to operate the tool we created,” Ebony said, gesturing at the sword. “I will try to finish the sword as fast as I can.”
 
She turned toward the gang.
 
“Promise me you will leave Millian mostly intact.”

“I promise,” Rem vowed and handed her a piece of paper. “You will need this.”
 
Ebony took the paper with surprise.
 
“Thank you, but before you go, I have a gift.”

…
 
A man marched into the room and addressed the woman sitting on her recliner.
 
“Lady Road, we are ready,” he frightfully declared.
 
Illma got up, smiling with insane glee.
 
“Finally! Detonate the explosive!”
 
…
 
The explosion detonated, sending a tremor of shock under the ground.

Underneath the dirt, a massive scaly body shifted, its eyes open wide from millennia of hibernation. Spirit of the damned simmered past the rock for their feast. Claws and enormous rows of teeth moved, breaking apart the stone encrusting its body.
 
After being a seal for countless years, a monster had awakened.
 
…

Kilometers from Millian, the area around the unfinished blade erupted into a firestorm, rinsing the hoard of ghosts in an inferno. Spirits of the damned cried in protest as the holy metal drank them up to strengthen itself.
 
The Duchess of the Craft tossed a piece of paper, a blessing of the Inverse side, into the bonfire of Burning Sunshine and readied her ritual to craft the greatest of the holy blade.
 
The tower of flames rising into the sky signaled the start of the incident that would turn the tide of Heavenly Daughter’s conflict.
 
And begun was the X-cution incident.