Chương 180: Lux Vult (10)

Norbelle's airship, the Legendary, arrived at dawn. Simon watched it from the command deck of Lauriane's own flagship, the Wisdom, with apprehension. Ten of the war machines hovered over the Goetia Research Center, having traveled all the way here from the War Party's secret base. Between the intimidating escort and the facility's already considerable defenses, they should have nothing to fear. A single look at the two giant creatures escorting Norbelle's airship convinced Simon otherwise.

The first was Azulbolla, the Azure Dragon, an Eidolon Norbelle had successfully wrestled control away from Fablan after that country's subjugation. Simon had only seen the creature once from very, very far away when his half-sister summoned it as part of her eighteenth birthday celebration—which he had to observe from the Frightwall's battlements—and it had somehow grown even bigger since.

The creature, which resembled a serpent with blue scales of bark and wood antlers on which flowers bloomed, coiled around its summoner's airship like a Uyoan boa constrictor around its prey. Though it had no wings, it could still fly all the same thanks to dozens of lightning-crackling orbs carrying it upwards. The monster looked nothing like Vouivre in spite of its title of dragon, but it was no less intimidating. The other creature was smaller, though its wingspan could overshadow a small keep.

This one resembled some kind of bird of prey with crimson feathers whose tips burned with otherworldly fire. Its black beak breathed out the blackest smoke, and a golden mask covered its forehead. A trail of embers followed each flap of its wings. So it was true, Cocagne had lent Norbelle the Phoenix. Lauriane had extensively briefed Simon and his allies on their enemy prior to boarding.

"Norbelle is level 68, according to my information. Her Summoner Noble Class lets her bind Eidolons to her will, and since she inherited her mother's visionary powers on top of that, she can summon more than one at the same time. Not only can she have them fight for her, but she can empower herself or her allies by harnessing the Eidolon's power. This lets her boost stats and grant multiple beneficial effects." Level 68, and she's younger than I am, Simon thought grimly.

Norbelle had always been a magical genius in spite of her young age, the family's golden child.

"Is it true that a summoned Eidolon's power is proportional to the Summoner's level?"

"Yes, so we must assume that every creature she summons is at least the equivalent of a level sixty to seventy monster." As if the prospect of facing one high-level spellcaster hadn't been daunting enough.

"Finally, the Summoner is a spellcaster class with mana regeneration and access to multiple schools of spellcasting. Considering Norbelle's level, you can expect spells like the Insteadeath-inflicting Death X spell or the ship-destroying Exaburn." A single level 68 monster would be the equivalent of fighting Vouivre, and Norbelle had brought at least two.

And neither of them matched the description of the dragon creature she unleashed against the War Party in a previous reign, so either she had yet to acquire it in this timeline or she had another ace up her sleeve.

"Thankfully, the Summoner has two key weaknesses. Not only will Norbelle's Eidolons disappear if she is knocked unconscious–" Or killed, Lauriane avoided mentioning, "but an Eidolon's destruction will also inflict immense mental strain on her." In short, knocking out one of the three should incapacitate all the others on paper. Unfortunately, Norbelle wouldn't be their only cause for concern. A small company of Templars and soldiers bearing the Church of Light's banner rode upon the enemy airship.

It was only a few thousand troops, but the High Confessor's elite fighters were nothing to scoff at. This would be a dangerous battle… should it start at all. Simon glanced around him. Lauriane sat on a throne at the heart of the command deck, facing the large landscape window giving her a full view of the troubles ahead. Although she portrayed a calm and confident facade, he could see the way she gripped her armrests. Her eyes darted to the engineers and mages working on the machinery around them.

They had spent the last few minutes sending light signals that Norbelle's own staff should hopefully see. Would Norbelle accept their offer of a peaceful meeting and their evidence? She was wiser than Thalas, but that wasn't saying much, and her mother Euphemia had just survived a spell bombardment she blamed on Louis. She might ignore them and push on with the assault. Simon prayed she would listen, but the cynical part of his mind couldn't believe in it. He glanced at his remaining retainers.

All were also present, save the late Lorimor, but they all reacted differently. While Meredith, Belzemine, and Leonard faced the situation with the stoicism of trained warriors, Duchar looked outright annoyed to have been dragged out of his lab and onto a battlefield. As for Cassandra, she clung to her staff with all of her strength.

"Anxious?" Simon asked her.

"A bit," she admitted, biting her lip.

"I have never fought a Noble Class user before."

"Hopefully, we won't fight at all." Simon could tell Cassandra didn't believe him, largely because his own words sounded empty even to him.

"Even so, it was very brave of you to agree to join us today. I appreciate it."

"That is what friends are for," Cassandra replied with a small frown.

"Or at least I believe it is. Am I wrong?"

"No, not at all." Simon's head perked up as an engineer wrote down a letter.

"Did we receive an answer?" Lauriane nodded sharply as the engineer gave her the document. Simon could tell its content the moment the scowl on his sister's face deepened, and his heart sank in his chest.

"Read for yourself," she told Simon upon giving him the letter.

"These terms are unacceptable." Simon checked and steeled himself. Norbelle replied that she would only agree to a peaceful meeting if they agreed to open the Goetia Research Center's doors to her forces, which was tantamount to surrender. Euphemia had apparently ordered them to secure the site, and they would not walk away without it. If Norbelle had even looked over the evidence Lauriane's airship had sent her about the Malphas conspiracy and the Zodiac Parade, she didn't mention it.

"I'm sorry, Simon," Lauriane apologized to him, though it was no fault of her own.

"I fear the outcome was decided the moment Frightwall burned."

"Yeah," Simon confirmed, resolving himself to fight another pointless battle.

"Yeah, you're right." The civil war was bound to become inevitable, quicker, and bloodier whenever Belzemine was removed from Castle Frightwall. They lived in the Oracle's world now, where the pieces she set in place had fallen in a way that would bring down House Magnos upon itself. He would keep that in mind.

"Send them one last counteroffer to stand down and talk this through, but prepare for battle," Lauriane ordered her troops before turning to Simon's group.

"Lady Firewand, Duchar, please join the mages on the artillery deck. Your powerful spells may make the difference. Simon, you stay with me and watch." Belzemine looked at Simon, who nodded back in confirmation. While he would have preferred to keep the elven archmage close, Lauriane was an experienced commander and he trusted her expertise. Belzemine and Duchar left the command deck to take their battle positions.

"Order the ships to spread out and to flank the Legendary," Lauriane ordered her soldiers.

"Norbelle's summons will have us beat in speed and maneuverability, but her flagship is vulnerable. Have lookouts keep an eye on the Eidolons, too. There is a possibility Norbelle is riding one of them and using her ship as a decoy. Fire at will as soon as they enter our range." Light signals caused the airships to follow through with the order. Lauriane's fleet spread out like a crescent, the wings ahead of the center.

Rather than flee, Norbelle's group flew forward with the clear intent of taking the fight directly to the Wisdom. The Azulbolla's orbs charged up with magical lightning while blue fire built up inside the Phoenix's mouth. And then the Battle of Goetia began. There was no particular signal, no call of Lauriane followed by an artillery volley. Both sides simply shot at each other the moment the other came within range.

The Azulbolla's orbs burst with mighty thunderbolts strong enough to pulverize castle towers, the Phoenix unleashed fireballs the size of houses with a screech, and the airships retaliated with spell bombardments. The same power Simon witnessed lay waste to the Berwick Islands was now turned against enemies that could take it and dish it back. The horizon beyond the window erupted into a blinding light show.

Explosions rocked the heavens and blasted away clouds, the wind carrying embers and ashes across the landscape. Thunderbolts blasted apart airship wings and cast them out of the sky, while spell barrages blasted the Phoenix's face and shattered half of its metal mask to expose regenerating flesh underneath. From Simon's point of view, this battle was a dance of hellfire; from the ground, it must have looked like the end of the world.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Such tremendous power, Simon thought as he and his allies watched the devastation with awe. Norbelle commanded these two forces of nature with the power of a single Noble Class. Their power let her match an entire fleet of airships manned by thousands and capable of ravaging entire nations. Could I bend these Eidolons to my will, too, if I ever devoured her Crestone?

Would they crush the Zodiac Fiends and Vouivre, or fall to them? That thought wouldn't leave his mind even as the battle continued to escalate. Norbelle's Eidolons successfully shot down two of Lauriane's airships, but the rest had begun to close in on the Legendary. The Azulbolla attempted to break the encirclement by flying straight at the Wisdom, swaying left and right like an eel swamming through the sky with a shroud of lightning crackling along its trail.

Its maw opened as it approached the command deck, light building up in its gullet, and Simon steeled himself for impact. A colossal fireball thrown from the artillery deck—likely Belzemine's work—struck the Eidolon in the face in a devastating blast, tearing off half its face and causing it to miss its target. Its breath of lightning and cherry petals blew aimlessly across the sky. The Eidolon fell to the side, its head and neck hitting the airship's left wing and causing it to shake.

"Damage report!" Lauriane ordered as smoke began to rise from the left side of the ship.

"Something broke into the cargo hold!" one of the engineers replied, reading a bottled message forwarded to them through a metal tube.

"I'm receiving demands for reinforcements!"

"Stowaways carried by Azulbolla?" Lauriane clenched her jaw and turned to Simon's allies.

"I will need your retainers."

"I'll go with them," Simon decided.

"You are still too low-level," Lauriane warned him with a hint of concern.

"Don't worry." Simon summoned his 'Templar' Class outfit—actually the Overlord clothed in Fiendmask —and raised his morningstar.

"I've got a few tricks up my sleeves, and great bodyguards."

"I see…" Lauriane hesitated an instant, but gave him a nod of trust and approval.

"Good luck." Simon thanked her and then left with his party towards the cargo hold, rushing down corridors and past soldiers traveling from one part of the ship or another, depending on immediate needs. Simon had no idea how Lauriane could even manage so many people without a Commander Vassal Class to organize them. The group put on their Class outfits and had sure cast buffs on themselves, from Energumen to Dark Saber to Rampart, on their way into the cargo hold.

They only needed to follow the trail of corpses and the noise of clashing steel to do so. Dozens of soldiers and workers had been torn apart, their entrails and blood spilling all over the floor and walls, body parts laying spread in every direction as if they had all been savaged by some wild beast. Had Norbelle called another creature to destroy the ship from the inside? The truth became clear once they entered a metal hangar filled with manalith crates and mechanical parts.

The air was choked with smoke from burning contraptions and shattered pipes, while the ground had turned slippery from the blood. An alarm rang overhead to the tune of flickering lights. He was there, clad in his Class outfit and driving his axe into a soldier's skull and tearing him in two. There's no way, Simon thought in shock and disbelief, even as their eyes crossed. Antonine de Shax was with him, clad in a veiled, red and white belly dancer's outfit. The Dancer outfit, in fact. He should be in Telluria…

"What's wrong, bastard?" Thalas asked, a ghastly grin stretching on his lips when he spotted them.

"Aren't you happy to see your kin again?"

"Why are you here?" Simon asked, though he already knew the answer and was already prepared to cast a spell. He immediately sent a telepathic message to Belzemine and Duchar to join him at the cargo hold now.

"Isn't it obvious?" An axe materialized in Thalas' hand, his eyes shining with glee. He had waited years for this.

"I'm working my way up to being the only son!" And then he charged them at inhuman speed. Leonard immediately moved in front of the group with his pavise raised and his Rampart Perk activated, but Simon and Cassandra proved even quicker." Blind!"

"Swamp Curse!" they cast both at the same time. Thalas closed the gap between them in the blink of an eye, but the two spells struck in the nick of time. His vision went white, and the steel floor beneath his feet turned into mud, throwing off his aim. His war axe struck Leonard's pavise shield rather than the man himself, and would have likely taken off his whole arm without Rampart active. Even then, the blow shattered the shield and threw Leonard back a few feet.

Simon and Meredith immediately flanked Thalas while he remained off balance, striking with a darkness-shrouded morning star and a lightning-crackling spear, respectively. There was no order to stand down, no attempt at negotiation, and no words were wasted. Everyone on Simon's side knew that to fight the Berserker was to dance with death. It was kill or be killed. Simon had had the 'privilege' of watching Thalas fight when he tricked him into dying against Vouivre.

He had dueled a dragon on his own long enough to inflict heavy injuries, and he might have won had he been armed with ranged weapons. The Berserker was unmatched in melee, and they were fighting in a closed space. The best they could hope for was to stay alive until Belzemine, Duchar, and reinforcements arrived.

Simon and Meredith both struck Thalas from two sides with all of their might, and while the Valkyrie managed to draw blood by grazing the chest, Simon's attempt to remove his skull from his shoulders failed to even cause him to budge. He might as well have struck a statue of stone. If anything, the energy-draining effect of the morningstar hurt more than the weapon itself. Worse, Antonine didn't stay idle. She traced a ring with her foot around herself, and an otherworldly music echoed out of nowhere in response.

Thalas' body glowed with light, his eyes returning to normal, and the ground solidifying again. He let out a roar so mighty it threw Simon and Meredith back, his muscles bursting with power. Thalas swung his axe in an attempt to kill them both, but Meredith tackled Simon out of the way with a quick, Valkyrie-enchanced jump. Leonard threw his now-useless shield aside and fearlessly rushed into melee with his claymore.

His surprising speed for a Dreadnought took Thalas aback, the Berserker instinctively raising his war axe to parry the blow. Cassandra slammed the ground with her staff. A cloud of smoke erupted at the spot she struck, and a horrific humanoid figure made of bones and skulls tied together with slick ropes of sinew materialized there. The undead monstrosity tackled Thalas from behind and rammed him against a crate.

"Cassandra, focus on debuffing! Everyone else, keep him busy!" Simon ordered his retainers as he charged at Antonine. Thalas on his own was a nightmare; adding a buffer on top of it spelled certain defeat.

"I'll kill his support!"

"Kill me, you baseborn cur?" Antonine replied with a disdainful smile, two butterfly-shaped daggers appearing in her hands.

"I think not. Moonstep." Antonine de Shax became a blur, with Simon's morning star hitting nothing but air. She struck back in a flash of speed, targeting the visor slit in his helmet, and though he managed to deflect the blow with his arm, he still sensed magic infecting his mana-powered outfit through the blade. Poison negated by Unyielding Essence.

The two swiftly engaged in a deadly tango, with Simon vainly attempting to strike Antonine while she dodged his blows and countered with swift, but largely painless strikes. One hit would have knocked her out of the fight, but she was fast, so blindingly fast. Meanwhile, Cassandra weakened Thalas with curses, but not enough to stop him from smashing her summoned undead to pieces in a single blow. Meredith and Leonard engaged him in melee, using their surprising speed, agility, and teamwork to briefly pressure him.

Meredith used her Class' infamous jumping ability to constantly bounce off the crates and walls to strike from various unexpected angles, while Leonard simply pushed forward with a relentless offense of sword strikes in order to keep Thalas on the defensive. It was only a matter of time before he found an opening, but they managed to keep him contained for now. Simon wondered how Antonine had obtained the Dancer Noble Class, but quickly came up with a possible explanation.

Euphemia had been in Castle Frightwall when it suffered destruction. Recovering the Dancer Crestone had just been a matter of finding Shabram's ashes among the rest of the debris. However, the strength and speed behind her blows were too much for a newly obtained Class, even a Noble one.

"How did you level up in Dancer so fast, Antonine?" Simon asked in between strikes. She shouldn't be capable of keeping up with him at a low level, or at least he didn't think so.

"Funny thing," she said with a malicious grin, her dagger flashing in a dash of steel, "When you inherit a Noble Class after leveling up in its Vassal Class, you can transfer some of those levels around." Simon memorized that revelation for later, and quickly switched tactics. He cast Shadowchain and caught Antonine's foot after she dodged one of his blows, causing her to trip. Simon immediately exploited the opportunity to hit her in the chest. She was cast to the ground to the tune of broken ribs.

"Antonine!" Thalas shouted with fear from across the room, but Simon focused on his prey. He put his metal foot on Antonine's chest to press on her wound and keep her down.

"The Templar can't cast Shadowchain," Antonine said, a flash of fear in her eyes. Simon raised his morningstar to crush her skull, but Thalas' roar of despair startled him. He glanced sideways just in time to see the Berserker break his encirclement by throwing Meredith at Cassandra and then lunging at him in a burst of speed." Magic Eraser!" Thalas' axe struck Simon in the chest before he could dodge. The blow nearly killed Simon.

Nay, it would have killed him if not for Cassandra's debuffs and Leonard's damage transference ability. Simon was thrown across the cargo hold and crashed into a wall so hard as to bend it, while blood erupted from his Dreadnought retainer's chest. All spells and buffs dispelled! And that included Fiendmask. The Templar outfit faded into smoke to reveal the dark steel of the Overlord armor underneath. Thalas froze in place in pure shock, his jaw dropping.

"No way…" Antonine muttered in sheer disbelief as she forced herself back to her feet. Her hand reached into her pocket and drew out a bottled potion. As for Thalas, his eyes now burned with pure hatred.

"I knew you and Louis were plotting something when you left Telluria, bastard, but to think you dared to kill Father to steal his Class…"

"I didn't kill him," Simon taunted him as he shambled back to his feet. While Leonard had absorbed most of the damage, he still felt the pain.

"He chose me." That seemed to hurt Thalas more than any attack. His face decomposed into disbelief, then acceptance, and finally, searing jealousy.

"I was there the day we brought you in," Thalas said, his voice bitter with resentment.

"I remember the brief smile on our father's face when he saw you pass through the gates. No one else noticed, but I did, that emotion he never showed me. He was proud of you." He uttered the word with all the envy in the world.

"Ever since that day, I've had this rage building up inside me every time I look at you. It burns inside at this very moment, boiling my blood into steam."" That is why you want me dead so much?" Simon spat with contempt. What a petty, childish motivation for wishing his own half-sibling murdered.

"Not because I'm a bastard or did anything to you personally, but because daddy wouldn't smile at you?"

"Mock me all you want, bastard," Thalas replied, raising his axe for the kill.

"Once you're dead… I'll finally be at peace." Simon thought this reign was at an end when a wall surged from the ground and took everyone aback. A black cage of dark bones materialized around Thalas and Antonine, briefly trapping them inside. Simon glanced at his saviors, busy healing their wounded. Belzemine and Duchar were finally here.