Chapter 87: A War to End

Amphere Harrison

My days of leisure have drawn to a close, and General Holster has beckoned me back to the S.S. Liberty. As Airi and I set foot upon the deck, our fellow crew members and dragon knights greeted us with simple smiles, a reassuring indication that all is well.

"Welcome back to the ship, hero," General Holster and Iris approached me. "How was your vacation?"

"Well, we certainly had quite eventful days—mph!!!" I swiftly covered Airi's exuberant outburst, my face flushing with embarrassment at those who overheard. Their expressions, especially Iris', bore a mix of suspicion and mischievous amusement. I must redirect the conversation swiftly!

"So, General, how have your research efforts been progressing? I've heard rumors that you've managed to pinpoint the location of the Demonic Cathedral," I interjected, eager to change the subject.

"Indeed," General Holster began. "Cleru's information proved accurate. The cathedral lies on the southern reaches of the planet, a region untouched by any nation's grasp. A mere fifty kilometers beyond the empire's border, and what I'm about to show you is quite extraordinary."

He presented a holographic tablet displaying a GPS tracker and a map. Neither depiction bore any semblance to the cathedral's identity. It was as if the very existence of the Demonic Cathedral defied conventional detection. Then, General Holster unveiled another map, one that contradicted the satellite images, yet pinpointed the cathedral's exact location.

"Our satellites remain unable to track the cathedral's presence, yet our dragon knights scouted the area," General Holster continued. "Their findings reveal an anomaly that exists in a paradoxical state. A true enigma. The Demonic Cathedral maintains a constant presence, observable by the naked eye, yet its existence defies validation through conventional evidence."

The general then presented another illustration, portraying a colossal obsidian church looming against a backdrop of an eerie crimson moon on the brink of collision with the planet. The scene was shrouded in an unsettling atmosphere, characterized by a barren expanse populated by skeletal, leafless trees, and a blanket of snow. What struck me most, however, was the unrefined quality of the drawing. It resembled the handiwork of a kindergarten artist who had been entrusted with charting out the landscape.

“Moving on, allow me to introduce the newcomers," General Holster declared with a smile, gesturing towards two figures standing before me. "Given the loss of a dragon knight who rivaled our generals, I've selected Mark Anthony Octavius to bolster our ranks. His capabilities as a General-class Dragon Knight should be of invaluable assistance."

“Greetings once again, Amphere,” Mark extended his hand, which I readily clasped. The knowledge that he had joined our team brought a sense of contentment.

The general's introduction persisted. "Additionally, due to the vacancy left by a Pentagram Knight, I approached the princess with a request to induct a replacement. This is Remuel Astolfo, also known as the Mighty Mouse."

Remuel, noticeably diminutive, stood at around 5 feet in stature. At first glance, he appeared as though he belonged in an elementary school, yet his robust beard betrayed his youthful countenance. A living embodiment of a hobbit, his eyes glimmered as they met mine, and he eagerly extended his hand, a spark of enthusiasm evident in his gaze.

"Sir Amphere Harrison! I'm an ardent admirer of yours!" Remuel exclaimed with fervor. Suddenly, a pint-sized dragonoid dashed forward, gripping my other arm and offering an equally enthusiastic handshake, mirroring the same gesture as the diminutive Remuel. "Allow me to introduce Diana, my Gadget Dragon," Remuel explained, his excitement undeniably infectious.

The gaze of a higher-ranked Pentagram Knight, one who regarded me as an idol, was an unsettling source of embarrassment. The weight of my 'hero' status, built upon orchestrating a theatrical confrontation and ultimately taking the life of my former mentor turned terrorist, bore down on me. In theory, I should have been elated, but guilt clawed at my conscience. Amidst this internal struggle, the memory of my best friend's recent burial resurfaced, plunging me further into the depths of depression.

A solemn hush enveloped the surroundings as a new figure entered the scene. All present, including myself, bowed in deference to the royal presence of Princess Serenity Elkyria. By her side stood Duchess Corasell and the irksome Cleru Neos, a figure I had recently clashed with. Positioned slightly behind her knight, Jasmine's demeanor appeared shrouded in apprehension, her attempt at concealment evident as she shielded her face, likely from the residual trauma of my confrontation with Cleru just days prior.

Abruptly, Cleru approached me, causing me to tense instinctively, poised to retaliate against any potential act of revenge. Yet, his actions defied my expectations. Instead of hostility, he offered a sincere bow, a rare act of humility from the normally arrogant individual. The weight of his words conveyed the depth of his remorse. "Amphere," he spoke, his tone laced with an apology. "I regret withholding the truth from you. Recognizing the insufficiency of my words, I pledge my assistance to you and Task Force Libera. My intent is to atone for my transgressions and aid in thwarting my stepfather's nefarious plans."

Silent anticipation hung in the air, all eyes resting upon me, awaiting my response. Overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation, I bade Cleru to stand upright, my reply quick and composed. "As my mentor once imparted, a dragon knight doesn't place blame, even upon oneself. We take action. We progress, pushing forward to achieve our goals. That's why I welcome your commitment to aid us in the imminent conflict."

Before the conversation could continue, Princess Serenity interjected, shifting the focus. "Furthermore, I bring forth a piece of uplifting news," she announced. "The culmination of this war approaches—tomorrow. The Dragonoid Rights Bill is set to be signed in the morning, its announcement to be broadcasted worldwide."

The chosen course of action presented the most comprehensive solution to the prevailing issues. A mere signing of the Dragonoid Rights Bill wouldn't quell the simmering animosity between dragonoids and humans, nor would it put an end to the mutual mistreatment. The true potency of the bill's impact could only be realized by ensuring its visibility across all communication channels—televisions, radios, and the vast realm of social media. However, a significant obstacle still loomed.

"Dragunov remains a factor. Should his disruptions persist, the conflict will endure. We must, without a doubt, put an end to his machinations," Airi declared, her words imbued with a tone of determined resolve, albeit laced with her characteristic levity.

"Our sole lead points us toward the Demonic Cathedral," General Holster added. "Hence, we shall force our entry into those cathedral doors and hand him his defeat on the very floors of that edifice."

Inwardly, I couldn't help but entertain the thought that General Holster might have missed his calling as a rapper, given his penchant for wordplay.

Amidst the discussion, Kyrie beckoned my attention with a tap on my shoulder. I pivoted to face her, noting the sizable briefcase she held. Slowly, she opened it, revealing a sight that defied adequate description. Language felt insufficient to encapsulate the awe that washed over me, the emotions stirred by the contents transcending the confines of mere English words.

Nestled within the briefcase lay a pair of broadswords, their surfaces adorned with a radiant orange glass coating. One side gleamed with a keen edge designed to project photonic beams, while the opposing edge boasted steel plates, seemingly tailored for powerful, blunt strikes. The twin photonic broadswords mirrored the luminescence that radiated from my eyes, casting an irresistible allure that left me mesmerized.

"Rudolf procured these photon swords, attempting to emulate your dual wielding prowess, but the style didn't quite align with his own. These blades have scarcely left this briefcase, making me believe that they'll find their true purpose with you. I, as well as Rudolf, am confident that these swords will be a magnificent fit for you," Kyrie explained, her words resonating with a mixture of fondness and understanding.

With a measured pace, I grasped the swords, each hilt finding a place within my grip. The initial slash I executed against the air left a vivid crimson trail in its wake. Following it up with a series of maneuvers—a hacking motion, a precise thrust, a whirling gash, and a dramatic X-shaped slash—the blades' radiance painted dazzling streaks of light in the air. The display drew the rapt attention of the onlookers, their eyes alight with admiration. In that moment, the photon broadswords captured my imagination and reverence. Their elegance and power were undeniable.

Securing the swords onto my back, a round of applause erupted from the gathering. Yet, despite the accolades, I couldn't help but be slightly embarrassed by the spotlight. To dissipate the charged atmosphere, I channeled my inner energy, thrusting my arm upward, clenching my fist in determined solidarity, and pumping the crowd's enthusiasm.

"Let's move forward with unwavering resolve! Our battle is not yet over!" I proclaimed, my voice resounding with a fervent call to action.