As Jester gazed upon the shadow of the almighty and despaired, Apex didn’t give in.

Tossed by a blizzard and swallowed by flames, the Tribune surrounded himself with eldritch energy and rocketed toward Hikma like a Fairy-made missile. Not to lose out to the No.1, the remaining two Tribunes, Blood and Glint, combined their force. The liquid Fea wrapped around the steely crustacean as an extra set of armor. Web of blood latched on the wall of a gaping ravine, as the combo-creature swung on the web like a spider, flinging itself at Hikma.

Both the Fea mustered their best to smash through the lightning and stones intercepting them. By some miracle, they tanked through the howling cold wind, the raining light beam, fire pillars shooting from the ground, punishment of lightning and flying boulders. Fuelled by raw unholy desperation, Apex punched through the screen of darkness and rock barricading himself from the Chronicler.

It was the spark of hope for the Tribunes. The Chronicler was finally within reach.

…

The Rescue Team (Requiem, Lena Atalante, Ayla Orman, Ruine)

Lena Atalante didn’t stop narrating.

“Now, assuming by some last ditch miracle you fight through the nine Spirit Lords with the potential to destroy the world several times over and get close enough to do damage to the Chronicler, you won’t get a win. It only meant you came face to face with the [Trinity] — a sophisticated defensive system that Chronicler created and upgraded to the point the Governor threw a towel and designated it as a Skill.”

“[Trinity]?” Requiem vaguely recalled such a term. “I think I heard Dream complaining about it.”

“He should,” Ayla made a face. “That technique is ridiculous. It has been ranked on Acropolis as the No.1 Skill to be obtained. The path to achieve it is common knowledge, but the requirement is terrifying. A triple-layers defense system with Arcane-base dissembler, time-regenerated adaptive spatial-barrier and physical enhancement Auric protection? Who in the seven hells but Chronicler can do that!”

Silence.

“Is it just me, or is she utterly incomprehensible?” Requiem said to break.

“It isn’t just you,” Ruine concurred, equally lost to the conversation. “I have no idea what she means.”

Atalante resumed the explanation.

“[Trinity] is a Skill Chronicler invented. It is a defensive system that is comparable to Orwell’s Adamakles.”

The young man remembered the insane durability Orwell’s spectral skeleton displayed, and it explained first-hand why the Skill was coveted.

Atalante wasn’t done with selling it.

“It works as a three-fold protection. The outermost barrier is Arcane-base meant to interfere, analyze and weaken attack. As master of all nine elemental Primal Arcane, Chronicler’s outer shell resists almost every Spell and Arcane imaginable. Below that, anti-magic protection, is another set of sophisticated barriers — auto regenerated, highly adaptive, spatial-barrier. Until you overpower this layer with a truckload of Mana, Chronicler is an invincible entity wearing self-repairing armor that is isolated into another dimension.” Atalante breathed deeply. “Now, assuming you overpower those double-stacked walls, you need to deal with a system of physical enhancement. Chronicler’s final protective layer is a mental and bodily enhancement cocktail of [Nectra Floral] and [Tenshou] that strengthened his durability and reaction speed.”

More silence.

“Okay, so on top of every magic under the sun, the dude got the world’s greatest protection,” Requiem again broke the silence about the living bullshit named Hikma De Darwin. “Is there anything else he can do?”

Ayla and Atalante — the hype women — glanced at each other before turning back to Requiem.

“Did you know he taught a class in defensive sword-fighting?”

Ruine watched into the distant battlefield and conveyed her pity.

“Those poor bastards never had a chance, do they?”

….

The A — Apex — punched forward. His fist, containing all the hope of victory, landed in a dull thud against a responding hexagon spatial-barrier. Anyone would be forgiven for feeling sorry for the Tribune breaking into the expression of absolute helplessness. All those efforts and exactly nothing was shown for it.

Unlike Apex, Glint and Blood lacked the comprehensive intellect to register the concept of despair. The two Tribunes — combined as one — approached from the air. The crab-monster spewed forth a beam of eldritch light, aiming to swallow the Chronicler whole.

The beam collided against the defense of Chronicler. The first of the three-fold defense analyzed the composition and nature of the attack and weakened it. The second layer adapted against the attack. The beam of light from the tribune was stopped by the hexagonal shield that materialized upon collision with the hostile energy.

Not to be deterred, the beastly Tribune opened its jaw and took a bite out of the hero.

The iron jaw that had chewed Alexander Stride's sword sparked against the hexagonal shield of [Trinity]. Glint bit down on the protection above Hikma’s shoulder, and ground on the defense to wear it down.

It was then Apex swung another punch with all the power he could muster.

Apex’s punch, coated with dense eldritch energy, came with a sonic boom and slammed on the same shield. The Fairy put every inhuman muscle in his body into the punch. The eldritch energy with such a density it bended space clashed against that shield. Friction heated the air and the booming explosion of power was visible for several blocks away.

In a reward for putting his all, Apex triumphed. The reward for his will was the depleted fist piercing the secondary layer. His fist flew toward that black helmet.

Before Apex could celebrate, Chronicler’s palm rose to block the punch. His other hand let go of the psychokinetic blade and reached up to Glint still grinding on his [Trinity].

[Geo Supreme]

A shudder ran up the Tribune’s body. The vast minerals that composed the Fairy’s body cracked as the internal stress inside the solid was altered. The slight change in the microstructure on top of the stress led to an inevitable volatile conclusion.

The G — Glint — cracked and burst like a shattered glass. The B — Blood — coating the monster also torn asunder from that attack, splashing everywhere.

Knowing that his attack had failed, Apex chose the sane option to fall back, but he couldn't, a manacle of rock trapped his feet and another Arcane was released from the Chronicler’s palm.

[Paradiso].

Seals flowed across the strongest Tribune. The immobilization mystic wrapped around Apex’s body and was further reinforced by the glyph spoken by Chronicler.

“Imprison,” the hero branded  the word upon the Apex. “Stillness-Weaken-Chained.”

Each word conjured intensified the might of the seals, making Apex’s movement all but impossible.

But the Knight of Horizon Dawn wasn't done with just locking Apex in place.

“Force-Cannon,” Hikma cast the [Glyph of Forms]. Two more Primal Arcane were thrown to complete that one attack.

[Pyro Supreme]

[Aero Supreme]

Each Primal Arcane had a scientific phenomenon they governed. [Aero] and [Pyro] held similar domains which were only separated by semantics. They both govern kinetic energy. [Aero Supreme] governed the law of motion and its collision dynamic. [Pyro Supreme] was more focused on the concept of internal energy and heat relating to atomic vibration. It was the two wings which form the concept of steam engine which built modern society.

By compressing the air to create a pressure cannon with [Aero Supreme] and accelerate the molecular motion with [Pyro Supreme], Chronicler created an air-bazooka with the firepower of the erupting volcano.

And the newly minted weapon parked itself with Apex at the business end.

The trigger was pulled, and the Tribune faced the super-heated high-pressure shock wave that batted the atmosphere like a ping-pong ball.

The blast would have mercifully ripped a lesser creature to ash, but Apex’s superior body turned that into a curse. He was to be intact enough to tank the full might of the pressure cannon. The super-heated air blasted him into the sky, smashing into several buildings on the way. The force of the crushing pressure then deposited him in the ocean with the tremendous splash rising to the cloud.

…

The Rescue Team (Requiem, Lena Atalante, Ayla Orman, Ruine)

The team watched the attack, which delivered Apex over the sky and earth.

“Well, that must be the final Tribune,” Atalante said. “This left only the head of the cockroaches.”

Thud!

Everyone turned to see another Fairy. A lanky werewolf with a malnulrish body straightened itself to investigate the group of potential obstacles. I would be forgiven for having trouble distinguishing an expression for the perpetually grumpy wolf.

“Today is a shit day,” the D — Dalton — said. “Are you the guys who had been taking out our forward squad one-by-one?”

Requiem might not be able to read the doggy’s face, but the irritation in his voice was visible,

“You sound grumpy.”

The Fairy grunted.

Today's invasion was turning into a debut embarrassment. Half of their Fellows were being purged throughout the city. All their Predators were dead and the Centipede and Tunneler were going down at an astonishing rate. Dalton heard a report about the party led by masked Anomaly, being responsible for removing most of them. Their siege on the shelter set in Danghai’s Skylark Trade Emporium was becoming an expensive standoff. Those new projectile weapons and the surviving defense force of Danghai were holding the line in a problematic resistance.

In such a scenario, the Centurion would be needed to break the siege, but the group of them were rapidly hunting those valuable middlemen down. To top it off, the communication hive-mind had flagged heavy casualties for their Elite Tribunes. The H, G, E and I were confirmed killed. The B, F, A and C still display a positive reading in their Spiritual Core, but he doubted they were in the shape to fight.

With their Primus down, their only hope was the Praetors and him.

Dalton eyed the four opponents facing him. The odds were horribly stacked against him unless there was an intervention.

Thankfully for the Fairy, the intervention arrived as a majestic little girl around ten. The girl with the fair skin and hair of luxurious gold drifted to the dusty ground. She had the face of an inviolable goddess, and the dainty dress to match. In another time and another place, she would be a perfect fit to frolic with flowers and butterflies in many dreamy imaginations.

Alas, innocence was often the camouflage above the capacity to sin.

“Dalton,” the little girl said. “What is happening here?”

“Regina Sei,” Dalton addressed the girl by her rank — the highest glory reserved for the Royal Clan. “We have come across complications.”

Sei, the Regina of the Fairies, looked at the four interlopers, “I can see. What a shame. This sure put a damper on our success in Zhong.”

Atalante and Ruine felt a chill down their spine. The Fairy words confirmed for certain that the capital of Danghai was lost. They still hoped that the detail might be better than their expectation, but the news was still beyond bad.

This also implied that Sei just flew here from Zhong after knocking the city in the face.

Atalante summoned the [Feather Edge]

Sei gave a grin that shouldn’t be found on the face of a little girl.

“You want to fight, human,” The Royal Fairy rose to the sky. “Your brethren in Zhong put in quite an effort, but it was far from entertaining.” She turned to Dalton. “Tribune, I want you to play the game too.”

Dalton was more fed-up than anything, “Yes, Milady.”

…

On a building covered in blue flames, another battle was ending.

The broken and battered Shandler crawled across the burning floor in the wooden sky-scrapper lit as pyres. The hot air dried with ash squeezing the life out of everything.

Wayward, who cornered the Praetor, took his time reaching his opponent. In this short duel, he didn’t receive a mark on his body aside from a mental — a curiosity.

“Are you really a high-ranking Fairy?” Wayward was confused at how brutally easy his fight was. “You should have packed more punch than this.”

Shandler made a dying smirk, “Nasty. Shouldn’t you be kinder to a fellow failure.”

Wayward, reminded of Acerbia slipping from his grasp, growled.

[Tenchou]

[Pyro Supreme]

Flames gathered in the air and formed the sword of fires, slamming into the ground in a thundering crunch. Treating the execution like a ceremony, Wayward lifted the burning psychokinetic sword up high and brought it down.

That slash cleaved the flaming building in half and erased Shandler from existence.

Wayward glanced down at the vanishing sword and sighed.

“Far from perfect as expected,” he muttered to himself. “No wonder Dream and Chronicler need a specialized hilt to create this.”

Wayward felt another shift in Mana, and another eruption of power blasted into the sky.

It was right from the area Orwell was fighting.