Chapter 88: Interlude to the Final War

Amphere Harrison

The obsidian-hued skies intensified the atmosphere, infusing an eerie and unsettling aura that surpassed the ordinary. The southerly winds carried a frigid touch, laden with icy flakes, tracing a frosty path that sent shivers down my spine. The tremor of my body was undeniable, a physical manifestation of the biting cold. Perhaps retreating to the deck was a prudent choice, a respite from the chill that had firmly taken hold.

Our vessel, the S.S. Liberty, stood as our sole passage into the fabled yet ominous realm. A voyage into this sinister land demanded the cloak of stealth, and the ship offered precisely that. However, it would be unjust to label us as devoid of might. Our arsenal comprised fifteen valiant dragon knights, a distinguished assembly that featured a general, a pentagram knight, a pseudo-general, and even a (counterfeit) hero. Amidst our ranks of seasoned mariners and formidable dragonoids, we were accompanied by Richard and Kyrie. Their presence, though bereft of a knighthood, held significance. Richard, endowed with waning portal capabilities, remained a valuable asset. Kyrie, despite her enfeebled Chaos Claws, possessed a tenacity for combat.

Exceria, ensconced within the chapel, devotedly chanted the Song of the Saint, invoking an aura of protection upon us. The cadence of her supplication remained unfamiliar, its potency yet uncharted. In light of the week's restrictions, my manipulation of Vesryn Pulse upon her had been curtailed, compelling us to rely on the safeguard her song might bestow.

Abruptly, the vista underwent a transformation. The snow-laden ground faded into oblivion, replaced by withered trees that stood as silent witnesses to desolation. Among them, trees perpetually engulfed in flames cast an infernal glow, their bark adorned with intricate, luminous symbols. These etchings converged into the shape of three interlinked sixes, resembling enigmatic magatama beads.

As our expedition delved deeper into this necrotic woodland, the crimson moon assumed a newfound prominence. "Behold the bloodshot moon, its dimensions seemingly surpassing the ordinary," mused one of the knights, voicing awe at the unprecedented spectacle.

Yet, Sherman challenged the assessment with a measured tone. "Nay, that is no moon. The moons lie yonder." His gesture directed attention westward, where the twin orbs of Alterra, planets diminutive in comparison, lay nestled against the horizon. The looming celestial body before us dwarfed these distant celestial companions, a sight both perplexing and unsettling.

"Necross Ascension," Cleru murmured under his breath, his words carrying an air of gravitas. "It signifies the Underworld, as spoken by Necross. The ongoing wars in disparate corners of our realm have led to an incessant rise in casualties, drawing the Underworld ominously closer to our mortal plane. Yet, we remain bereft of a comprehensive tally of these deaths, extending back to the inception of Dragunov's enumeration. This is precisely why we must strive to avert any needless loss of life on either side."

The S.S. Liberty boasted a formidable armament of specialized cannon shells, designed to release soporific gas upon detonation. Our machine guns, too, had been retrofitted with sleeper rounds, crafted to pacify adversaries of the likes of Arcadians. Our mission's focal point rested on the potential apprehension of Nox and Dragunov, a task steeped in uncertainty, particularly concerning Nox, the paragon of malevolence. He stood as the quintessential envoy of the Underworld, a vessel for its dark ambitions personified in the form of Necross.

Guiding our airship was none other than Pentagram Knight Remuel, at the helm of his Gadget Dragon. This mechanical marvel, a diminutive embodiment measuring merely four meters in height, bore a striking resemblance to the embryonic stage of the Futuretech Dragons. Their predominantly alabaster complexion deviated slightly in this instance, with the Gadget Dragon's metallic plates cast in shades of gray. Eschewing conventional wings, these creatures relied on boosters to navigate the skies.

"Attention, comrades," Remuel's voice resonated through the communication devices. "Multiple heartbeats detected ahead, approximately at the twelve o'clock position. Likely Arcadians."

"Retreat to the ship for reinforcement, enabling us to engage our camouflage," ordered General Holster, his command reverberating with authority.

Upon the Gadget Dragon and its knight's return to the vessel, Cleru promptly drove his rainbow-etched scimitar into the deck's surface. An ability attributed to the Rainbow Dragon surfaced in my memory—a capacity to manipulate light refraction, manipulating the visibility of objects. Although imperceptible from within, I surmised that our airship now mimicked the hues of its surroundings, akin to a chameleon adapting to its environment.

"Airi, commence your infiltration of their security systems," I commanded my trusty dragonoid companion. "Additionally, calculate the number of hostile entities in the immediate vicinity."

"Totally!" Airi responded with a cheerful tone. Her vibrant scarlet locks defied gravity, ascending skyward, while the distinctive V symbol on her forehead reemerged. Initiating the Eye of Deus—be it a manifestation of her own power or a borrowed ability from me—she closed her eyes in concentration. "Security protocols have been effortlessly breached. Estimated count of hostiles: approximately 31,253 dragonoids."

"Marvelous work, Airi," Mark Anthony commended us, his admiration palpable. "How did you manage such a feat?"

I chose not to elaborate, preferring silence to maintain the mystique. Our proficiency in such endeavors was undeniable, honed during our time as saboteurs—targeting installations, power complexes, and scientific laboratories during our stint as terrorists. The Empire's security infrastructure posed minimal challenge to Airi, rendering the subjugation of terrorist technologies hardly more than a perfunctory exercise.

Suspended in the air, our concealment remained intact. Our aerial vantage point revealed the alert and poised dragonoid insurgents below. A palpable readiness for imminent combat emanated from their ranks, a reflection of their preparation for battle under any circumstances. Given our recent dismantling of their covert refuges and clandestine strongholds, the significant presence of Arcadians in this locale seemed rational. The Demonic Cathedral, I surmised, stood as their last bastion—for now, at least.

The notion also surfaced that they might be anticipating our arrival. The ever-elusive Dragunov perennially maintained a one-mile lead ahead of us.

Remuel, accompanied by his Gadget Dragonoid, joined us on the deck, his gaze oscillating between Airi and me, an expression of astonishment painting his features. "Chimeratech Dragons truly epitomize the zenith of robotic draconic creations! Pray tell, what further capabilities lie within your repertoire?"

"W-Well…" Airi's voice held a touch of bashfulness as her fingers grazed her cheeks. "I can delve deeper than the Mariana's Web, conjure an unlimited trove of Bitcoins, breach the Empire's quantum computers to explore their most classified archives, and manipulate genetic programming, even extending to bionic compounds such as cyborgs. In essence, I am the veritable mistress of security penetrations! Truly! However, my knight holds dominion over an entirely distinct realm of expertise—"

Her sentence was abruptly truncated by my swift, decisive karate chop to her head, preempting her from divulging the most confidential aspect of our shared life. The need to silence her loquaciousness was paramount; her tendency to chatter indiscreetly remained a point of vexation. Although her mention of the deepest recesses of the web intrigued me.

Unexpectedly, the airship jolted, as though it had encountered a colossal iceberg. However, this was no maritime disaster reminiscent of the Titanic, and no glacial masses graced the surrounding skies. A palpable force, unseen yet undeniable, had seized us in its grip. Our trajectory came to an abrupt halt, while on the horizon loomed the immense expanse of the Demonic Cathedral.

Rising to a towering height of eighty meters and stretching across a staggering five hundred meters, the cathedral defied comprehension, casting doubt upon the elusive nature of satellite imagery and GPS tracking. Encircling the edifice were statues of demon dragons, each standing at seven meters in height—reminiscent of the Light Bringer Dragons, which only materialized when individuals consumed the repugnant black hearts. The once snow-laden terrain surrounding the cathedral had relinquished its wintry veneer, replaced by an unceasing river of crimson, a macabre tributary that seemed to cradle the ominous structure in its embrace.

"There appears to be a rather obstructive barrier obstructing our path," General Holster remarked with a mischievous grin. "Breaking through and penetrating it is the order of the day, isn't that right, Amphere?"

I silently implored for an end to this exchange of green humor. The levity was appreciated, but now wasn't the time for jesting.

Anticipating the impending clash, our airship launched volleys of smoke grenades, their contents infused with soporific gas. Swiftly, the would-be aggressors succumbed to slumber before even making contact with the ground. The automatic defenses, already rendered impotent by Airi's expertise, offered scant resistance.

As we disembarked onto the terrain's surface, the synchronized activation of our Vesryn Pulses reverberated through the air. The fifteen resolute dragon knights soared skyward, assuming strategic positions for their long-range onslaught. A symphony of photon balls, colossal blades, terrestrial projectiles, surges of lightning, mammoth wads of bubblegum, iridescent fireballs, and more, were unleashed with fervor, shattering the enigmatic force field as if it were spun glass.

Yet, the triumphant moment was short-lived. As our airship moved to advance, an array of dark portals materialized, numbering around a hundred. From these rifts emerged an array of corrupted dragons, each one representing a different breed, accompanied by knights in a state akin to zombification. Their eerie visages gripped black, pulsating hearts in a ghastly grasp.

With this, the final battle was irrevocably inaugurated.