READ WEBNOVEL Chapter 374 - Cannons, mech infantry, and fresh Contenders!
“Roboro, ventus, incurvio, attentio!” Eric savored the rush of the howling winter storms as he bent a tiny corner of its force for his own use, now racing faster than he ever had before with zero wind resistance before him and a strong steady gust pushing him forward and down, assuring he was able to tear through the grasslands at breathtaking speeds.
Then he popped out of the perpetual hurricane force winds surrounding his sisters final bastion to behold a scene right out of any his mother’s world war remakes.
The lush forests and fields had been torn apart by magical flame and artillery fire, quickly spotting the extended trench network that the Sylvan alliance had been working on before the tide grew too great and all had retreated and, he assumed, fled to the realm that his reincarnated BunBun, who had somehow become his biological daughter, was presently forcing a foothold of her own upon.
He spotted what must have been thousands of orcs, gnolls, and other humanoids in the distance, noting dozens of flags and pennants of multiple colors and designs held up by regiments of archers, artillery, spearmen, and musketeers. A combined unified front of allied humanoids that he thought would be glaring right at the howling stationary cyclone before them. Instead, all of their focus, and artillery, was focused on a shimmering dome of golden light in a massive shallow depression connected to the trenches from which Eric sensed no less than a thousand souls, perhaps more.
His eyes widened with genuine amazement when the shimmering ward refused to collapse under the onslaught of artillery fire unleashed by multiple cannon batteries, filling him with a suddne surge of hope, that maybe he didn’t arrive just in the nick of time to witness yet another inescapable tragedy.
Yet his relief quickly turned to dread as the protective dome warding so many souls began to flicker and wobble as the air rang with the roars and shouts of disciplined artillery units and thousands of savages eager for the kill. Roars and snarls jostling in awful counterpoint to the screams of terrified women and children who, for some insane reason, were actually caught up in the war front, and they were all about to get blown to kingdom come.
Of course that was the instant his psyche rang with an emergency interface message from his sister.
“Eric! Two thousand refugees have just sworn themselves to my faction! Please, I think they might be in trouble. If you could escort them…”
Eric was already springing into action as a construct out of his wildest dreams and nightmares suddenly made an appearance, a massive battle mech looking like a cross between a titanium and steel golem and something straight out of Nova Wars, twenty feat at the shoulder if it was an inch, holding a plasma weapon his interface screamed was so illegal that any day save today would call for immediate Silver tier intervention. And right behind that battle mech whose footsteps shook the ground were four fully power armored soldiers wielding Mark 4 Hyperion miniguns very much like the one that had given him a hair cut, nearly torn his ear right off, and him as well. Yet another weapon that would never be seen on Earth on any night save this one. And now four of those weapons were in play as the entire squad faced the massive depression that some desperate earth mage had no doubt forged for the thousands sheltering from artillery fire.
Of course that was the moment that the cackling goblin for some fucking reason cavorting on top of the battle mech chassis filled the air with his dribble.
“Stupid humans! Daring to flee Freetown? Daring to flee your rightful masters? Hah! Fools! You could have enjoyed a carefree existence where all you had to do was obey! But you failed the most basic of all lessons! Obey your masters in all things! And now I’m forced to make an example of you. Thousands of profitable slaves lost because you just had to get greedy!” The little monster’s face bloated with outrage, lips curling in twisted sneer. “But that’s okay, because we’re filming absolutely everything! It will serve as a wonderful lesson in deterrence when future slaves see what happens to those who dare to flee their masters!” The goblin glared down at the mercenaries below.
“Kill them all! That’s an order!”
The mercenaries exchanged looks. Some actually shook their heads as the air filled with desperate screams and pleas for mercy.
But it didn’t change the fact that they spread out, readied their Miniguns, and braced themselves while the massive battle mech’s blaster cannon began to glow like a supernova as the air rang with words that echoed with a phoenix’s fury.
“Inverto! Gravitas! Plures! Attentio!” Eric howled the words over seconds that stretched an eternity, feeling a hideous pressure blossom inside his skull as he inverted gravity on not just a short range foe but five fully armored targets, one of which weighed five tons if it weighed an ounce.
Saving throw versus catastrophic failure successful!
An unforgiving pressure that threatened to obliterate even his monstrously powerful frame before it suddenly slipped free just like the massive battle mech, four shouting mercenaries, and a single shrieking goblin slipped completely free of Earth’s gravity, shrieking and howling for the heavens for long glorious seconds as a roaring Eric charged across the battlefield, his Mana and Spiritual energy crashing down well over a thousand points before he prepared to let classic physics to snap back into play.
But not before his eyes widened with sudden horror, wondering what would happen if that massive monster of chrome and steel actually exploded before two thousand desperate refugees.
Of course that was the instant his near 400 Perception spotted the mechanized artillery battery that looked a hell of a lot closer to Bronze tier weaponry than 24 pounder orcish long guns, even now shifting their trajectory to bombard the thousands of newly accepted Sylvan Alliance supplicants.
Truly, a clusterfuck of epic proportions.
Fortunately, sometimes two wrongs did make a right. Even if he had to let his Mana and Qi Pools drain even further as his targets became tiny dots in the sky as he slowly, carefully uttered the words that would bring them back to earth once more.
“Incurvio! Gravitas! Plures! Attentio!”
On his terms. Sure as fuck not theirs.
You have successfully manipulated spacetime to bend to your will!
You have come one step closer to mastering your art!
Runic Lore is now Rank 29!
At least his daring had bought them time. Time enough for Eric to leap into the trench, catching sight of thousands of exhausted looking women and children huddled protectively behind what must have been hundreds of basic and standard classers wearing everything from enchanted steel to monster shells and beast hide, so many desperate souls now gazing at him with expressions caught between horror, disbelief, and desperate hope.
He couldn’t help grinning when he also caught sight of a pair of faces he had never expected to see after overhearing their friendly spat when they had attended a Contender’s conference in the Blue Palace conference hall, what now seemed like a lifetime ago. Even if they had thought him little more than an idiotic hellion picking fights he had no hope of winning at the time.
“Hey Herb, Hey Vincent! Glad to see you two assholes working together again!” He grinned at the shocked looks this earned him from the powerfully built Zeus actor look-alike and his wiry companion, unable to deny that Vincent really had claimed a catch with the wide-eyed elven beauty who immediately fell into a curtsy, despite her clear pregnancy.
“Your Grace! Savior of our people! We had prayed Elonia would—”
Her words became a gasp when a desperate Eric began roaring the words to a chant he prayed would be enough.
“Mollet! Roboro! Sanguis Herbam! Plures! Attentio!”
The desperate survivors gasped and cried out when all light was blocked.
“Blood! I smell blood!” One rogue cried out as the earth shook with a massive boom and Eric held on with absolutely everything he had, needing every one of those seconds to focus and channel yet another variant on a certain blood shield that had stood him in such good steed once upon a time.
A blood shield that was now a dome covering the entire depression. Because it truly was all about inflection and intent. Even if wood was the carrier, his blood was the potency that allowed him to channel his own resilience into resisting both arcane, spiritual energy, and soul attacks. Though now it was all about resisting the shockwave and heat blast he feared would soon be—
Your ward has been struck by shockwave, resisting erupting battle mech core!
Bronze tier mechanized artillery unit has been destroyed!
Tier-IV HAVOC Battlemech unit has been successfully destroyed!
4 Bronze tier (Rank 10 – 14) Mercenaries have fled the field!
You have DARED to enhance your ward with your own potency!
You have DARED to absorb FATAL SHOCKWAVE!
You have absorbed 1 CRITICAL WOUND!
Mana reserves have been depleted!
Qi Pool has been depleted!
You have used 75% of temporary Soul Reserves!
You have lost 4000 Health!
You have saved versus death!
THE PHOENIX HAS RISEN ONCE MORE!
“What the fuck just happened, Vince?”
“Hell if I know, buddy.”
“He saved us,” whispered a soft, feminine voice. “And he has paid dearly for it.” The elven woman gazed down at the exhausted-looking boy covered in burns and blood, sizzling as if his flesh had born the hideous flash of heat the mages among them all sensed passing by. At that moment, none of them were even sure if it was safe to breathe outside the dome too many could sense fading second by second, or if toxic fumes, a fiery cauldron, or a thousand furious orcs awaited their emergence.
Eric could peripherally sense the odd mixture of anxiety, fear, and desperate hope within the gazes of so many refugees now gazing down at his fallen form, Eric himself now frowning down and gazing at his shattered, broken body, before snapping out of his own daze, using the fresh surge of potency from his kills to bring him back from the brink of oblivion.
Eric gave a relieved smile when his ruined face reflected his grin, sensing his cells embracing the hidden boon of Unified restoration as a whopping 60 points per second catastrophic organ cascade penalty that his baseline Vitality, absurdly high as it was, couldn’t quite counter until it was suddenly boosted by an obscene degree. And for a single precious minute that seemed to stretch into eternity as the very short term ward he had poured so much of himself into finally faded to nothing, he somehow became each and every one of his cells, or at least the idea of those cells, as they repaired the damage, achieved homeostasis, and expelled absurd amounts of waste so quickly that even he was caught off guard.
Though not as much as he was by the golden wings of fire suddenly sprouting from his back as his eyes bolted open and he woke up with a gasp, catching the awed gaze of Vincent’s wife and the smiling countenance of a man armored in enchanted steel that his mind immediately identified as a Chevalier.
“Greetings, young hero. It pleases this seeker of justice to see you back on your feet once more.”
Eric winced, quickly feeling his back… relieved to feel absolutely nothing beyond his own shoulder blades.
Instead, he spent a long few seconds studying the faces of half a dozen guild heads all but surrounding him, including the once arrogant Merlina brooks whose elegant features were now filled with exhaustion and desperate hope, her husband holding a pair of children by her side, as well as Annie of Annie’s mercs along with her husband and the rest of her band, all of them instinctively surrounding and protecting a dozen spouses and children gazing at Eric with the same hopeful expressions as he recalled Elonia having to deal with after every press conference, once upon a time.
Annie flashed him a smile, the first to speak. “It’s been a long time, hero,” she quipped as Eric’s massive domed ward completely faded. Fortunately, there were no toxic clouds or sudden lethal heat, at least not for Eric, though far too many noncombatants flinched and cried, the air suddenly filled with the roars and shouts of countless orcs and gnolls, even the throaty grumbles of ogres Eric’s exquisite hearing could make out all too clearly.
And before Eric could engage in any witty banter, the air roared with the sound of 24 pounder long-guns once more.
Annie flinched, lips twisting in a bitter rictus. “Fuck. No rest for the wicked at all.”
“Stay here and stay down!” Eric snapped. “As low as you can and as close to the walls as you can!”
Merlina gave Eric a desperate look. “Please tell me you can summon that ward again… hero?”
Eric chuckled coldly. “Yeah, I’m beyond tapped at the moment. But don’t worry, I have other things I can share with our friends.”
The woman shook her head bitterly. “You nearly got killed coming to our rescue. Unless you have…” Her eyes widened when Eric held up his fist.
“You remember the failed hit back in the Blue Quarter, back when you told me off for packing heat in your favorite ice cream shop, right?”
“I do, and I owe you an apology for my regrettable faux pas. But even then, you were a lucky boy who nearly got taken out by half a dozen hardened criminals. Our foes now number in the thousands!”
Eric winked, summoning his Mark II Deathblaze and a crimson orb circling about his head. Before closing his eyes and Soul-binding the weapon in his hand that just turned a shade of light crimson, now just an extension of himself. And what had once nearly drained a year of his life now only claimed a fraction of a single soul point.
“Necromancy!” Someone hissed.
“Damn right,” Eric said. “And you’ll note the very people who shamed you out of using heritage arts unique to the tribes of man are the same assholes trying to kill us now. So… yeah. Try not to be a patsy of our enemies and I’ll try to get you all out of here alive. Sound good?”
The now trembling man who looked like he’d rather be anywhere than under Eric’s gaze quickly nodded and bowed his head as his obvious wife castigated him and called him seven kinds of fool.
Eric turned to Vince and Herb and the Chevalier giving him such an odd look. “Alright, here’s the plan,” he said as the shells and shrapnel boomed overhead. Fortunately hitting very little, since trench warfare was a thing for a reason, and at the end of the day, orcs were going to orc. Especially at night, with orc night vision being complete shit. Certainly no better than the typical human’s.
It was when the pig-faces finally grew bored of shelling and decided to rush the trenches that all hell would break loose and the refugees would be ground to paste.
“I’m going to go out there and fuck those assholes up, and you’re going to stay here until I give the okay. Sound good?”
“Are you serious? You’re fucking insane, you know that? This isn’t actually a game, so why not use your head so we can all survive this together!?”
Eric frowned at the scowling classer suddenly confronting him. A well put-together youth who might be a year younger than him. He looked absolutely perfect, radiating a young, idealistic hero vibe that made Eric’s teeth grate. A youth who had just stepped out of an isekai adventure wearing glossy black armor with a pair of young women standing proudly by his side. Eric passively pinged them all as level 40ish, which admittedly would make them the shit in Freetown, with 70 points in 4 key stats, perhaps even better if they had had fortuitous encounters of their own. Which given their PC Hero vibes, they clearly had. Probably in spades.
Eric furrowed his brow, suddenly sensing that there was so much more to the youth before him than that, as his interface rang with a very faint: “Persuasion skill check: Failed! Your social opponent recognizes what you’re doing, and why! Your disguise as been pierced! Charisma check: successful! Your social opponent has no interest in killing you at this time.”
The youth blanched when Eric grinned, suddenly getting it. “No worries there, friend. I’m sure I can count on you to take care of everyone counting on us while I take care of things up top.”
The youth looked suddenly flustered.
“Relax, Sven,” whispered the girl by his side in Japanese, now in the lime-light, stunning the world with an outrageous 30 in her Appearance stat, squeezing his hand. “He never would have made it this far if he was really that stupid.”
Eric smiled in approval at her naginata. “Even fellow Contenders are welcome… so long as you all swear the oath.”
His bemused smile hardened as the three youths blanched.
“Fuck. He knows.”
Eric calmly shook his head. “I won’t start shit if you won’t. In fact, I’ll be a solid friend in your corner, should you need sanctuary when other head hunters come our way.” His warm gaze included all three, regardless of the shells whistling overhead. “But I need your oaths. Right the fuck now. Or we’re having it out, right the fuck now.”
Their eyes bulged with outraged disbelief.
“Are you fucking serious, asshole?” The blond-haired girl to Sven’s left cursed, radiating super-cute tsundre vibes as the air spiked with magics Eric would normally associate with… healing.
He glared at Sven. Why did some protags get all the luck?
“Serious the grave,” Eric calmly said. “Which is exactly where I put every other Contender who tried to stab me in the back before now.”
The Japanese girl groaned. “He’s a fucking kira!”
Eric curtly shook his head. “Wrong. They start it, every time.” He allowed his lips to stretch wide… far wider than they should, never mind the horrified looks this earned him, even the chevalier stepping back, Annie and the others cursing under their breath as Eric burst the illusion that he was some kind of fucking white night.
“And I finish it. Every time”
“He’s a fucking dark fey!” Vincent whispered, before wincing when his wife’s palm cracked against his jaw.
“Apologize, you fool! All of you! He’s our salvation!”
Eric flashed a half-apologetic smile with his now very normal, very human looking mouth and totally non shark-like teeth. No twisted non-Euclidean geometry in play at all.
“Yeah, that’s partly true. I’m as dark as they come. But I don’t kill my friends, ever.” He gazed at the now pale-faced trio of youths. “So my only question, fellow Contenders, is are you three my friends… or not?”
“Yeah, we’re your fucking friends!” The boy cried, swallowing as he met Eric’s pitiless gaze. “I Sven Harlor, swear never to challenge or strike at you or your kin or deliberately rob you or betray your trust… so long as you swear the same!” Both girls nodded in unison, and Eric couldn’t help smiling, because intent was everything, and their souls were now in perfect harmonious agreement with their lover’s.
Sven gulped, gazing at Eric fearfully, as if afraid he had asked for too much. Yet all Eric did was gently touch each off their foreheads. “Same, so long as you guys don’t go all dark side, killing innocents. Honestly, I doubt you’ll have to worry much about me at all, though my sister could definitely use another friend or two in her corner.”
His smile didn’t change an iota when the boy flinched, feeling the red sigil on his forehead. “Oh fuck, what did you do to me?”
The Japanese girl whimpered, her blond counterpart glaring furiously his way.
Eric winked at Sven and the worried pair of girls who so obviously shared his bed and why the hell was Eric alone again? Anyway, he was totally not jealous at another PC hero doing PC hero things in his territory. He was cool like that. Especially with several thousand lives on the line.
“Just a little assurance. So no twisted card of fate played by assholes more inconceivably obnoxious than you can possibly imagine can compel you with sudden visions, seizures, or System interface messages to kill me or my sister at all costs.”
His cold smile made the three kids before him lurch back, suddenly feeling the weight of his furious killing aura. “But that’s not going to happen, right? So long as you never betray me, you’ll be happy to know that you’ll actually have an afterlife full of all the joy and happiness and sweet blissful dreams you three could hope for, forever replaying your greatest triumphs and sweetest nights of bliss with the two hotties beside you and I am totally not jealous at all.” His smirk turned dark. “But if you betray me or my sister? Well, I’ll leave it for you to imagine what a pissed off necromancer can and will do to your souls, if you cross me like that. Sure as fuck, it will be a damned sight worse than whatever obnoxious threats Silver-tier tyrants trying to compel you from half a galaxy away can do. Because like I said, you treat me right, I got your back. And if you think I’m strong in the kingdom of life, well, I get the feeling I’ll be even more of an asshole in the kingdom of death. So your assassin girlfriend trying to midnight surprise me won’t have quite the results you’re looking for.”
Both girls winced awkwardly.
“Blasphemy!” The chevalier snarled, now glaring at Eric like he was the enemy.
Eric clashed an icy grin that didn’t reach his fiery blue eyes. “Maybe, but isn’t it nice to know that there truly is life after death?” He said as the hundreds of terrified spectators listening in flinched and cried out when ricocheting shrapnel caused screams and cries for aid. “A truth I’m about to show all the assholes who fuck with my friends. Now you can hate me all you want, peeps, but how about you all do it crouched down?”
And before anyone could even think of a response to that, Eric was gone.
“Just who the fuck was that?” Sven wondered aloud.
This earned a snort from Annie. “Seriously, boy? He’s the contender who’s got half the factions trying to slaughter us up in arms. He’s also the reason why the United Counsel of the Americas voted to outlaw necromancy entirely.”
“He’s an abomination,” the chevalier declared fiercely.
“He’s the only one who has a hope of saving us! If he hadn’t made nature itself obey his commands, that battle mech would have already slaughtered us!” Vincent’s wife snapped, her fiery glare challenging anyone who dared look askance at her.
“No one’s doubting that he saved our asses,” Herb assured. “He just seems a little…”
“Off his fucking rocker?” Snarked a grinning youth far too young and fragile for the killing field he and his sobbing mother found themselves in.
Sven smirked, he and his partners nodding in unison before he winced and rubbed his head. “Did that kid actually… mark us? And what’s this about twisted System messages or, what, Silver-tier assholes trying to compel us to strike at him? He’s full of shit, right? Or was he just blowing smoke up our asses?”
The elves among them gazed sadly at the boy. Vincent’s wife sighed, rubbing her belly as she gazed pityingly at the contender and the girls nervously rubbing foreheads that appeared utterly free of any mark or blemish. “He’s the lastborn son of Elonia Silver, our glorious empress whose empire spans over a dozen worlds. Eric might be many things, but a liar isn’t one of them.”
It was then that the distant boom and crash of disorganized artillery seemed to take a break, though the din of distant screams and roars could still be heard by all the anxious humans and elves huddled together, praying for a miracle, before the air rang with words that seemed to echo endlessly in the starry nighttime sky. Shivering through all their souls.
“Surge Centuria! Imperator Imperat Tibi!”