The Worn Out Anachronistic Clock
The next day.
Just as he proclaimed, the First Technician formed a large group of thirteen soldiers and headed underground. Those staying behind were now forced to continue the grueling work of preparing the airs.h.i.+p for departure with thirteen less pairs of arms.
The party returned before dusk. The First Technician, bloated with pride, showed off the absence of wounds on each of his thirteen soldiers. Perhaps his team had been exceptionally skilled, for they brought back a fair amount of spoils too.
Now, let’s talk a little about the Teimerre. Fundamentally shapeless creatures, they mature rapidly and have the ability to split themselves. They’re also the only Beast you’ll ever encounter up in the sky, albeit at a very low frequency.
When down on land, they create nests underground. Once they find a cave with suitable s.p.a.ce and humidity, they stick onto the walls and ceiling and begin to multiply. Contrary to the repulsive and frightening appearance of these nests, they actually aren’t so dangerous. There have been more than just a few cases of a salvager stumbling right into the middle of a ‘6th’ nest and making it out without a scratch. The Teimerre don’t seem to bother responding to only one or two invaders, as if too lazy to wake up from their comfortable naps.
It is not clearly known what drives them to action. Some even say that there is no such thing, that the Beasts simply rain destruction on all without thought or reason. Accepting that hypothesis, it doesn’t seem like much use to try to figure out what wakes them up or what keeps them asleep.
— In reality, however, that belief is incorrect. There are a few conditions which, while not necessarily absolute, tend to rouse the Teimerre from their sleep. For example, if a large group of living beings comes close. When one or more of such conditions is fulfilled, a few of the Teimerre will awaken and seek out their prey.
On the surface of the sand, battered continuously by the harsh winds, a small hole opened up.
And then another.
And another.
Then another and another and another and another and another, as if they were bubbles on the surface of boiling water.
Then, a liquid substance began seeping out from each of the newly formed holes.
In the ancient language of the Emnetwyte, ‘Teimerre’ means something like ‘fear’. The kind of fear that pops up out of nowhere, multiplies endlessly while still unnoticed, then devours your heart, crushes your soul, and swallows everything. That kind of fear.
There is now no way to know how this one species of the 17 Beasts came to acquire such a name. Perhaps the ancient scholars simply went with the first thing that came to their minds. But no matter how it came to be, the beasts known as the Teimerre truly live up to their name.
Myriad Teimerre began crawling out onto the sandy surface of the earth.
On the wall of the Plantaginesta’s hold sat a worn out anachronistic clock. Two wire thin and slightly bent hands rotated around in the wooden frame, which had grown deformed due to moisture over the years. According to the crew member who had been aboard this s.h.i.+p the longest, the clock was already dilapidated when he first saw it.
Apparently, the very first captain of the Plantaginesta brought it on board as a memento of his grandmother. And also, it is said that there’s a real tearjerker behind the history of the clock, but no one had ever actually heard the story. Someone probably just made up the rumor for entertainment. The worn out clock was no more than a worn out clock. It conveniently showed you the time if you looked up at it, nothing more and nothing less.
At that moment, the han
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ds of the clock pointed to 6:26 p.m.
The first victim was a young Ayrantrobos man who unfortunately had been a.s.signed to window cleaning duty at the time. He had been struggling to clean up the copious amount of sand stuck to the window frame when it happened. He didn’t even have enough time to scream.
At that moment, the hands of the clock pointed to 6:28 p.m.
As he walked down the corridors of the s.h.i.+p, the slightly drunk Reptrace Third Officer noticed a strange thumping sound coming from the window. When he went to take a look, he saw a dark green something stuck onto it from the outside. And apparently, that green something was trying to smash down the window — no, more like the very wall of the s.h.i.+p.
The Third Officer screamed.
A large crack appeared in the window.
At that moment, the hands of the clock pointed to 6:32 p.m.
With an explosive boom, the airs.h.i.+p’s spell incinerator whirled to life. The crew realized that they needed to lift off from the surface as quickly as possible. Every second mattered. If they were too late, they would all be consumed by the horde of ashen sand.
“W-What the h.e.l.l is that!?” the First Technician yelled.
Grick glanced outside the window. Beyond the surging winds of sand, he could see countless silhouettes shaped like trees spreading out their branches, trying to latch onto the Plantaginesta.
“What do you mean what is that? It’s a group of Teimerre of course,” Grick responded nonchalantly as he stuffed ammunition into a gun. Of course, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to actually kill a Beast with that, but he could at least make them falter. Besides, it would be better than going empty handed.
“A-Are we going to be okay running the spell incinerator like this? I heard that’s what caused the Saxifraga to fall.”
The First Technician was not mistaken, but the Saxifraga had been attacked by the ‘4th’, which seek their prey by sensing sound and movement. The roaring spell incinerator had the effect of basically screaming ‘hey we’re over here!’ at the enemy.
However, the Teimerre are different. Whether their eyes are good or their ears are good no one knows, but they are somehow able to pinpoint the location of any living being and attack. Holding your breath or playing dead or hiding in the shadows won’t do you any good. As long as you’re near them and alive, there’s no way to escape their vicious fangs. This means that no matter how much of a ruckus the spell incinerator caused, it wouldn’t draw even the slightest bit of attention from the Teimerre. Grick wasn’t exactly in the mood to explain all that to the First Technician, and, well, there wouldn’t be much point in doing so anyway.
“Where are the Dug Weapons? It’s for times like these that we brought them, right!? Hurry up and make them clean this mess up!” the First Technician screamed.
“Don’t try to avert your eyes from reality and push all the responsibility onto others.”
The airs.h.i.+p rocked violently and t.i.tled. The propellers began spinning desperately. At last, the Plantaginesta lifted off from the land.
“Alright, this is good! Let’s secure some more alt.i.tude at maximum speed and knock off as many of these guys clinging to the walls as we can! After that, we’ll have to count on the young ladies!”
Sounds of despair seeped into the s.h.i.+p from outside. They seemed to be drawing closer.
“A few have infiltrated the s.h.i.+p! Evacuate everyone to a safe place!” Grick yelled.
“I-I dont’ know what to do! I’m a technician, not an officer! This is out of my specialty!”
“Oh, is that so!?”
If the First Technician planned on abandoning his duty, it only made things more convenient for Grick. He grabbed the voice transmitter and broadcast his orders to the entire airs.h.i.+p. Of course, this was outside of Grick’s specialty as well, but if no one took charge they had no chance at survival.
The hands of the clock pointed to 6:34 p.m.
Kutori still hadn’t regained consciousness. After fainting back when they were escaping from the underground labyrinth, she had never opened her eyes once. They had sprinted onto the s.h.i.+p and into the clinic, grabbed the doctor, and told him to do anything at all to wake her up.
Of course, nothing worked.
After all, she wasn’t suffering from any kind of regular illness, and she didn’t have any visible wounds. How could they have expected the doctor to treat someone who looked perfectly fine on the outside? He did discover slight internal bleeding near the chest, but that was probably caused by Willem’s interference, and not directly related to her coma.
Willem sat on the floor beside the sleeping Kutori, his head buried in his hands. Now that it had come to this, there likely wouldn’t be any meaning in trying to repair Lapidem Sybilus. The sword had the ability to maintain its user’s mental and physical condition, but it first required the user to actually activate it with Venom.
“… what am I doing…”
Willem groaned. He had wanted to make her happy. But since she woke up from that first coma, what had he been able to do? What had he done to guide her towards her dreams? He couldn’t think of a single thing.
It’s not like you really care about her anyways, do you?
Willem felt he heard a voice whispering to him from a dark place deep down in his heart.
She only caught your attention because she was the wielder of Seniolis. You didn’t care about Kutori. The girl you wanted to save was Leila. The thing you wanted to protect was your promise with Almaria. Since you failed at both of those, you tried to trick yourself by putting yourself in a similar situation.
No. I cared for Kutori.
You realized you would never be able to make her happy, didn’t you? Seniolis’ choice is a binding curse. Once she picked it up, her fate was determined. There was never any way out from the start.
No. No. No. She could’ve found happiness. I was going to help her.
You were saved by the fact that she was a mere child. You could talk to her without truly looking her in the eye. You could maintain distance. You could give without taking anything. That allowed you to keep clinging onto those things so precious to you which you know are long gone.
No. No. No. No. I, I just… I just…
Oh, look at me, I’m trying so hard. But it’s not my fault I can’t get anything done, fate isn’t on my side. It’s all fate’s fault, not mine! Boo hoo! Of course no one’s going to blame you if you’re opponent is fate. It’s true that nothing you did was incorrect, but–
N–
Like you said, what’s correct to you is grossly incorrect to someone else.
The airs.h.i.+p trembled wildly. Willem heard Grick’s voice over the transmission system ordering everyone to evacuate to a safe s.p.a.ce, but he remained still.
“… marry me, huh?” Those words had come out of his mouth just yesterday. “I wonder… what do I really think of her…”
Slowly, Willem stood up. He bent down and lightly touched his lips to Kutori’s. A single tear spilled onto the girl’s cheek. As he pulled away, he heard a deafening noise of splitting metal. Somewhere closeby, intruders must have found their way inside the s.h.i.+p.
“… haha.” With a brief laugh, Willem turned away from Kutori. He even felt a little thankful for the newcomers. Dealing with them would be better than sitting here and thinking worthless thoughts. “Sorry. I’ve got to go for a bit,” he called to the sleeping girl behind his back, then stepped out of the room.
The hands of the clock pointed to 6:35 p.m.
The battle, of course, seemed utterly hopeless. But Lantolq could think of two good things about their current situation.
First, the attacking Teimerre boasted enormous numbers, but each individual wasn’t that large. The Teimerre, when killed, do not die. More precisely, at the instant of death they split in two, and only one half dies while the other lives on. That process repeats itself until a certain limit. The fortunate thing was that, as far as Lantolq could tell, none of them were big enough to have a limit of over ten times. A single fairy could handle one with relative ease if they had so few lives.
Second, Lantolq herself felt unusually agile. Her Venom ignited and flowed into Historia more smoothly than she had ever experienced before. In fact, she felt so light that the pleasant feeling was almost enough to make her forget the gravity of the situation. The cause, she knew, was Second Technician Willem k.u.mesh’s treatment from earlier. At first she suspected he was just making excuses to touch a young female’s body, but apparently not. His skills were definitely no joke. Combined with his personality, the type that made Lantolq want to tease him, she felt she might be able to get along with him. She could also understand why Kutori fell for him. If only he weren’t an Emnetwyte…
“Three, four!”
Lantolq thrust a finis.h.i.+ng blow into the Beast in front of her. Immediately after, she spread her wings and flew a safe distance away from the hordes of Beasts clinging onto the Plantaginesta’s hull. Since the Beasts couldn’t fly themselves, she could always maintain an advantage by utilizing her wings. The airs.h.i.+p also seemed to finally have reached a suitable elevation. The Teimerre which had been using each other’s bodies as a ladder to climb up drifted out of reach of the s.h.i.+p and all collapsed to the ground.
“Alright…”
With that, reinforcements from the surface were cut off. All they had to do was clean up the ones already stuck onto the s.h.i.+p. Lantolq looked across the Plantaginesta once more. Almost a third of the bottom part of the s.h.i.+p was completely covered in Teimerre, as if it had taken a trek through a leech infested swamp. The overwhelming number of Beasts, well, she didn’t really want to look at them, but they couldn’t be ignored. She estimated a total between one hundred and two hundred.
“You’re kidding…”
With so many individuals to start with, it didn’t matter if each of them could only split ten times. Lantolq, while she felt great, had only just recovered from Venom poisoning. If she continued to overexert herself, she would break eventually. Even with two positive points, the situation was still utterly hopeless.
The hands of the clock pointed to 6:38 p.m.
Be happy! It’s the battlefield! Something inside of Willem seemed to whisper to him.
The battlefield. The place where heroes show their bravery. The place to struggle, destroy, and claim victory. Here lies exhilaration. Here lies glory. Here lies tragedy. Fantasy. Reality.
Willem had once desired power to stand on the battlefield. In his new life, unable to stand there any longer, he had suffered bitter thoughts. His heart had ached at sending his loved ones off to this place. So perhaps he had longed to stand here this whole time. Perhaps he should’ve rejoiced at finally arriving on the battlefield. After all, isn’t that all he desired throughout these long years? To crush his enemy, fight through the pain, and claim victory?
Willem shook his head, attempting to drive away his mind’s useless ramblings. Keeping low to the ground, he sprinted down the corridor. A gray something suddenly flew at his side and slashed at his back. Willem ducked even lower, causing the attack to pa.s.s over his head. The entire wall had burst apart with such force Willem almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Countless metal fragments from the copper and steel plates which had lined the corridors seconds ago scattered throughout the air. He saw one shard, which had the words ‘may Regul Aire forever remain in peace’ graffitied onto it, fly by.
Out from where the wall used to stand, it revealed itself. It took the form of a large, gray crustacean, with a st.u.r.dy sh.e.l.l covering its body and multiple joints in its legs. It slightly resembled a crab, but a real crab wouldn’t have over ten legs, and those legs wouldn’t be able to stretch out and contract independently.
It was unmistakably a Beast. Willem had heard so much about them, but this was his first time ever seeing one. He thought that encountering one of the creatures might stir up some deep emotions in him, but he didn’t feel anything in particular. In front of his eyes was no more than a strangely shaped enemy with enormous power — and maybe, the final outcome of a former Emnetwyte. That possibility made him waver a little. Just a little. So what if it was once an Emnetwyte? Right now, it was a monster with its fangs pointed towards him. That’s all that mattered.
A strong wind blew in from across the destroyed wall. Along with it came three of the Beast’s limbs. They lashed out at the wall, the ceiling, and the floor, flailing around wildly in an attempt to crush Willem. He loosened his posture and closed the gap between him and the Beast with agile footwork almost resembling a dance. It was a basic version of a dash method taught in the curved blade techniques of West Garmond. Apparently, if mastered it could transform the user into a haze of heat flowing effortlessly through the sky, but the talentless Willem could never use it as more than a small trick. But that was enough for now. The Beast moved just liked any wild beast. All it possessed was overwhelming strength; it had no skills or complex thought process. With slightly deceptive movements, Willem could easily dodge its attacks.
He arrived right beside the Beast, at a distance so close his breath landed on its gray sh.e.l.l. From up close, he noticed that a strange slimy looking substance covered the Beast’s body. I hope it’s not poison, he thought as he thrust forward his left fist. As his hand flew through the air, it picked up an iron board falling from the collapsing ceiling before driving straight into the root of one of the Beast’s legs. Of course, his punch, even with the added force of the iron board, inflicted no damage. It would be stupid to think that a simple fist could harm an enemy who could easily survive a canon bombardment.
Willem lowered his stance, twisted his ankles, rotated his shoulders back, and stored a deep breath in his stomach. That string of movements all connected smoothly together and further empowered his drawn back fist. A point blank punch. It was said that if a master carried out this attack he could split a giant mountain and reverse the flow of a waterfall (probably slightly exaggerated). Willem, being an amateur, couldn’t do anything of the sort. At best, he could push the receiver of his punch forward slightly.
But that sufficed. Behind the Beast stood a wide gaping hole where the wall once stood, which the Beast had just carved out itself. In other words, if Willem pushed the Beast slightly forward, it would have nothing left to stand on. And the Beast, not having wings, would then have no way to climb back up once thrown out into the air.
Willem brought his fist forward, successfully pus.h.i.+ng the Beast off of the airs.h.i.+p. Out amidst the reddening sky, it began falling silently down towards the vast gray wasteland below. After watching it for a little while, Willem relaxed his guard.
“Agh!”
He had pushed his already broken body too far. Intense pain shot through every corner of it, causing Willem to grimace. With both arms, he checked the condition of his wounds. No bones had been broken, and no important joints or tendons had been cut. He could still move. He could still fight. He could remain standing on the battlefield. Willem let out a maniacal laugh.
“I’m surprised,” a voice said behind him.
Turning around, Willem spotted blue hair fluttering in the violent wind. “Oh, Lantolq. Glad to see you safe and sound.” He smiled.
“All thanks to you, unfortunately. You don’t seem to be doing too well yourself, though,” Lantolq said bitterly. “You’re pus.h.i.+ng yourself too hard, aren’t you? An already wounded person defeating a Beast with no weapon and without igniting Venom? What kind of joke is this?”
“Oh, were you watching? How embarra.s.sing.”
“Don’t play dumb. Geez, you really are — ah!”
Willem’s consciousness suddenly snapped off. The strength in his knees propping his body up crumbled, leaving his body to tilt over towards the large hole in the wall behind him. Right before he fell out into the sky after his fallen opponent, however, Lantolq grabbed his body and shoved it down onto the ground, where the floor of the corridor used to be.
“… sorry.” Willem’s consciousness flickered back on. “You really saved me there.”
“Yes I did. Be thankful. Can you stand?”
Willem attempted to lift himself up, but it was no good. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t put any strength into his knees.
“I guess we have no choice but to rest here for a bit then. I’m a little tired myself…” Lantolq said as she sat up straight. She drew Willem closer, resting his head near her chest.
“W-Whoa there.” Willem faltered. Compared to Nephren, who was always hugging Willem and what not, Lantolq had a little more… you know. “Hah. As if a mere child could make me feel anything,” he said, half to himself.
“Is that so? I won’t ask whether you’re saying that seriously or just trying to control yourself, but either way I’m grateful,” Lantolq said, and tightened her grip a little.
With his ears near her chest, Willem could clearly hear her rapid heartbeat. “You’re all messed up too, aren’t you.”
“While not as much as you, I did exert myself a little too hard.”
Venom relies on the heart’s strength to ignite. The consequences reveal themselves soon enough, as the blood flow and heart grow increasingly chaotic. The unstable and irregular pulse he heard in Lantolq was unmistakably the result of extended Venom overusage.
“Can you fix it with that fishy treatment of yours?” Lantolq asked.
Willem shook his head. With his skill, healing an irregular heartbeat directly would be strictly impossible.
“You’re more useless than I thought.”
“Does that mean you had high expectations of me?”
“Not necessarily…” Lantolq paused for a bit and thought. “Or maybe I did. I knew I couldn’t trust or rely on you, but perhaps some part of me was expecting something from you.”
Her words reminded Willem of something that dumb lizard had said once. He took it as an insult.
“Do you have any idea what’s going on elsewhere? Are Noft and Nephren safe?” he asked.
“I don’t know the exact numbers, but I suspect there are roughly ten Beasts remaining. Earlier I saw Noft still alive, but she seemed to be overexerting herself as much as I was. Haven’t seen Nephren yet, but I think she’s fighting somewhere near the hold.”
“I see.” Willem thought for a bit. The situation was obviously bleak. The fairies didn’t have any trouble fighting the small Beasts one by one, but they were vastly outnumbered. Without any opportunity to rest, the longer the battle dragged on the more the fairies’ strength advantage shrinked. “I think I should–”
“No.” Lantolq cut him off immediately.
“I didn’t even finish speaking yet.”
“I could tell from your face that you were going to say something no good. Something like, if the situation is so bad not even opening the gate to the fairy land will solve it, then I’ll sacrifice myself and clean everything up. Am I right? You were thinking that doing so would minimize losses, correct?” Willem wished Lantolq would stop reading his mind. “If not, there’s no explanation for that stupid smile on your face.”
…… am I smiling? Willem wondered. “To you, me dying would be the least painful, wouldn’t it?”
“I won’t deny that. But having you commit suicide in front of me using one of my friends as an excuse wouldn’t be very pleasant.”
Kutori still hadn’t woken up. Willem was desperately trying to fight a hopeless fight. Apparently, Lantolq was able to figure out that these two were connected.
“I guess.” Willem placed his palm on top of Lantolq’s head, only to have it swatted away immediately. “The Beasts are growing fewer in number. You keep resting. I’ll go take a look at the hold.”
“Is that an order?”
“Take it however you want,” Willem answered, then ran off.
The hands of the clock pointed to 6:51 p.m.
“Ah!?”
Struck by a forceful blow, Noft was sent flying back. She bounced off the walls and the ceiling like a ball, tearing apart a few pipes, then rolled down towards the end of the corridor before finally stopping. She had put up her Venom defense just in time, judging by the lack of visible wounds on her body. However, as a result of the repeated impacts, her right arm had become numb and refused to move.
“Ahaha… this is bad.”
She stood with trembling feet, staring at the slowly approaching Beast. Continually using Venom without rest for a period of time essentially has the same effect as sprinting at full speed for that same period of time. Forced to endure intense battles one after another, Noft’s stamina had quickly reached its limit. But her efforts had not been in vain. The number of enemies was clearly decreasing. Just a little longer, and the exhausting fighting would be over. She could end it.
But once it was over, once victory was theirs — what would happen then?
The hands of the clock pointed to 6:59 p.m.
In the walls of the airs.h.i.+p’s hold, bolstered by layer upon layer of steel plating, a large hole popped open. The s.h.i.+p shook violently, causing the worn out clock to fall down. With a small crash, it collided with the ground and its face cracked. After its long life, the anachronistic clock had finally ticked its last tick.
Watching from the side, anyone could clearly tell that Nephren’s movements were dulled. All non combatants, in other words everyone except the fairies, had evacuated to the hold. Their presence attracted countless Beasts, and Nephren alone fought them off.
She fought a battle of endurance in which everything around her worked to her disadvantage. The pet.i.te Nephren hardly had any stamina, and she didn’t have enough experience to be able to maintain focus with so many enemies. Furthermore, in the closed off room, she couldn’t make use of her wings or nimbleness. Her sword, Insania, was large and heavy, yet still had less range than the Beasts’ limbs. She had no choice but to go all in with each attack, heavily taxing her stamina and focus. As time pa.s.sed, Nephren’s movements grew less sharp and the Beasts only increased in number and vigor. She had been driven back to the center of the hold.
“Everyone that can’t fly, grab onto something!!”
Grick’s voice roared to life through the voice transmitter pipes. Meanwhile, in the control room, Grick was busy piloting the s.h.i.+p. Overriding a few control mechanisms, he forcibly turned the rudder. The s.h.i.+p moaned loudly and began to tilt. The bow was raised up, while the stern pointed down towards the ground.
The Teimerre gathered in the hold to hunt the survivors began slipping on the tilted floor. At the same time, Nephren used her sword to cut open one of the large cargo gates. Various goods stored in the hold — food for the journey home, relics dug up on the land — all slid out into the air. The Beasts tried to transform their limbs to better latch onto the floor and walls, but the barrage of wooden boxes raining down upon them pushed them off.
One Teimerre split its body in two as it fell. And then, using the other half as a stepping stone, one half took a big leap up and tried to grab Nephren with its long claws.
“Nice try!”
A brave crew member hurled a barrel of oil at the monster. Not only did it hit its mark, it also spilled slippery cooking oil everywhere. The claws aiming to pierce Nephren’s stomach missed and only lightly scratched the back of her head. The Beast then transformed its limbs again, this time into th.o.r.n.y, sh.e.l.led crustacean legs. It tried to latch onto the floor with them, but the oil prevented it. Soon enough, the Beast rejoined its companions out in the sky.
The crew members let out a cheer. “Good work, young lady!” Someone shouted words of grat.i.tude to Nephren.
At that very same moment, the fairy soldier’s body began slipping on the slanted floor. She had long surpa.s.sed her limits. She had somehow finished the fight fueled by pure willpower alone. And now, with that last attack from the Beast and the sense of relief at the battle’s end, that last thread of willpower had been cut.
“Miss!!” A few crew members let out screams. Some of them tried to crawl along the floor towards her.
“… don’t… come…”
Nephren’s body was hot as an inferno, yet at the same time cold as ice. Needless to say, she had ignited too much Venom. She had turned her back on life and abused that terrible power, knowing that each step took her closer to death. Now, there was only one possible outcome which awaited her: berserk. The immense, unchecked power emanating from her would blow away everything in the area with enough force to destroy a large Teimerre all at once in an overwhelming manifestation of destruction.
“Wait there! I’m coming!” A Frogger crew member yelled as he crawled inch by inch towards Nephren.
She couldn’t be saved by them. That thought budged Nephren’s body just a hair backwards.
“Miss!?”
With a light kick off the floor, Nephren jumped into the vast empty sky and began her descend to the ground below.
Out of the corner of his eye, through a crack in the hull, Willem spotted an unconscious Nephren in free fall.
“Wha–”
Willem’s mind turned blank. Within a split second, he had already jumped out into the roaring winds. Forcing open his injured eyes, he spotted Nephren and followed in her path. She had let go of Insania and simply continued to fall, unable to control her body any longer. Around her, a group of Beasts which had likely fallen out of the s.h.i.+p just before her attempted to close in, awkwardly paddling through the air.
Well, this is it, Willem thought. With a Demolis.h.i.+ng Nightingale Dash, he lunged towards Insania and grabbed hold of the sword. Ignoring the fierce pain pulsing through his body, he ignited Venom and attempted to activate the sword. It was no use. Willem didn’t have the talent to wield a high cla.s.s Kaliyon. But he already knew that. Fighting against the intense air resistance, he slowly stretched his hand towards the center of the blade.
“Start maintenance!!”
The cracks in the blade widened and light poured out from them as Insania burst apart. Willem then grabbed the crystal which served as the core of the entire sword and ripped it out, severing the connecting spell lines. The backbone circuit, now incomplete, began to overheat as it failed to withstand its own internal pressure. The sword known as Insania was already no more. All that remained was a ma.s.s of raw, turbulent power.
In total, there were thirteen Beasts surrounding Nephren. And in a few seconds, they, along with Willem and Nephren, would all smack into the ground and perish instantly.
“Get away from her!!” With a beast-like roar, Willem flew into the pack with a second Demolis.h.i.+ng Nightingale Dash.