Chapter 540 - Vs. Virillius Augustus
The final morning started like any other. Though the crowd was exhausted—it had only been some three hours since the commentators had finished analyzing the battle between Allegra and Durham—the audience soon gathered in the arena nonetheless. Being unwilling to miss the final battle, many of the spectators had taken to drowning themselves in stimulants. Coffee was a common choice among the nobility, but that was only because the upper class was made up of high-level soldiers accustomed to pulling all-nighters. The masses relied more heavily on the pills distributed by the colosseum’s staff. Strynx, as the drug was called, was a half-magical concoction that would prevent the user from falling asleep for at least three days.
Substance abuse aside, it was business as usual. The audience grew, the arena expanded, and the actors put on their usual performance. Everything had gone by the standard script. But somehow, despite the otherwise typical lead up, there was electricity in the air; a sense of anticipation gripped the audience as it sat in relative silence. So present was the tension that it gave even Octavia pause; she was struck by a moment of hesitation as she walked out onto the stage—as she was suddenly made the focus of forty million gazes.
Still, it only took a moment for her to regain her composure, put on her signature smile, and put her mouth to work.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for coming. Today marks both the summer festival’s finale, and this proxy war’s final battle. It has been a close competition so far. Fighters from Cadria and Vel’khan alike have demonstrated their might and proven that they are truly champions. The score so far is three to two in Cadria’s favour. If Vel’khan wins this battle, then the war will be declared a tie. If Cadria wins, then we will secure a narrow victory. Whatever the case, both nations are to be celebrated and respected for their demonstrable strength.” The centaur paused for a moment to catch her breath before throwing open her arms and addressing the audience with her voice booming ever louder. “As we go into this final battle, I understand that spectators from both sides will have their expectations. For the Cadrian people, it is one of promised victory. Not once in a thousand years of service has our final champion known the taste of defeat. He is the singular force who brought the thorae and lamia into our fold. He is the protector who slew every foreign aspect with Cadria in their sights, and the warrior unknown to death. Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for The Goddess’ Spear, God-King Virillius Augustus.”
The crowd erupted into a cheer, a chain of shouts and cries that continued long after Virillius took to the stage. He was dressed completely differently from the time he’d challenged the Eleven Horned King for the crown. Namely, he hadn’t a single divine relic or special piece of equipment on his person.
He was dressed like an ordinary knight. He had a basic suit of full-plate armour marked with his family’s crest, a standard issue mithril shieldlance on his waist, and an all-too-ordinary spear strapped to his back—a reality reflected by the near-empty equipment listing that came up with his status.
Virillius Augustus
Health: 2.7164e16 (100%)
Mana: 4.8568e17 (100%)
Racial Class: Unidentifiable Aberrant Limit Breaker Class - Level 4999
Primary Titular Class: Unidentifiable Unique Class - Level Transcended
Secondary Titular Class: Unidentifiable Unique Class - Level Transcended
Notable Equipment: Sthenian Princess’ Ring of Vows (Quality: 1000)
There was little information to be gleaned from the reading, only that his strength was absurd. No one in the audience understood what it meant for his class levels to be marked as transcended. Only that it was another sign of his overwhelming power.
Turning their eyes to his ability scores, the spectators found a similar story. The graph was devoid of values as usual, but someone immediately pointed out that his health measured in tens of quadrillions despite his vitality being his lowest stat by far. It was quite literally ten orders of magnitude greater than what all the other fighters had brought to the table. Even though it was nothing but a tiny, near imperceptible sliver.
Not everyone was quite willing to believe the output. The Alliance members in the crowd, at the very least, held onto the hope that it was false. There were ways to weave lies into the system’s messaging especially with classes that branched from the Rogue-based tree. After all, if he truly had 17 digits of health, then it would have been impossible to kill him; their goddess never would have tasked them with Cadria’s elimination.
“Facing off against him is Vel’khan’s most powerful soldier. Frankly, we do not know much about her. Even her gender was up in the air until it was recently confirmed. All that I can really say is that she is awfully mysterious, and kind of hunk—”
“That’s enough, Octavia.” The Vel’khanese warrior spoke as she emerged from the gladiator gate. She was dressed from head to toe in her usual armour, with only the icy shard in her chest exposed. There was a narrow gap in her visor so that she could see through it, but it wasn’t nearly large enough for even the keen-sighted to discern her features. Still, Octavia couldn’t help but feel that something about her was oddly familiar. “I can introduce myself.”
A quick look at the fighter revealed a bipedal who was either a tall cottontail or an absurdly short elf. With a height of about 130 centimetres, it was more likely the former than the latter. Though, further consideration led Octavia to realise that it was probably neither. Vel’khan was home to a whole slew of species not typically found in Cadrian lands.
“There are two parties responsible for this war. The first was Lord Pollux, who entered Vel’khan as a state guest, only to commit a horrendous crime.” Her voice was nothing like it’d been any of the other times she’d spoken. It was soft and gentle, but still crystal clear. Curiously, it carried through the colosseum despite being at a near inaudible volume. Unlike Octavia, who was relying on an artifact to amplify her voice, the Vel’khanese fighter was simply speaking to everyone at once. “And I am the second. I am the one who destroyed Tornatus overnight. I am the one who slew Lord Pollux and vowed vengeance against his kin. And I am the one who first proposed settling this blood debt in single combat. Coincidentally, this happens to be the stage I’ve set to address the second due.”
She paused for a moment to scan the crowd—a moment where the crowd stared back and realised that she was without a weapon. Perhaps, they thought, she was some sort of pugilist or brawler.
“Before this duel begins, I will erase his bloodline.” Confused murmurs shot through the crowd as the observers questioned her sanity. It would be impossible to identify every such person, let alone assault them with the barrier in play
“In my name, I command the restraint of all who are descended from Timaios Pollux.”
A thousand golden chains appeared from beneath her feet. Three at a time, they shot through the barrier that surrounded the ring and wrapped themselves around Lord Pollux’s kin. It didn’t matter if they were unaware, hidden in the VIP box, or a dozen generations removed. They were bound—barred from any further movement.
The crowd erupted into confusion. The shield was supposed to be impenetrable. It wasn’t like the mages were slacking. The near-clear film that protected the audience was still perfectly visible.
“Your progenitor murdered one of my best friends,” she said, quietly. “And for that crime, I sentence you all to death.”
Slowly, she raised a hand, pointing it not at her opponent, but the Polluxes up in the stands. By then, they were trembling, watching her with fear in their eyes as they slowly came to understand the declaration—as they realised that Virillius was just watching, doing nothing to stop her. Having inherited their progenitor’s lack of shame, some tried to protest, to use their words to weasel their way out of the conundrum. But none were allowed to speak. The chains muzzled them as soon as they opened their mouths and tightened their grips on their throats.
“Now, I do believe that the more observant among you will have already noticed.” The Vel’khanese fighter laughed as she began to shed her armour. It started with her pauldrons. They fell from her body even though she had done nothing to unstrap them and revealed a plain summer dress. “To follow through on my threat, as a Vel’khanese citizen, would be to defeat this proxy war’s purpose and incite the manner of all-out conflict that this exhibition was crafted to avoid.” Her armoured skirt fell to the ground, clinking against her similarly-fated cuisses and greaves. “But of course, that only holds true if I am Vel’khanese.”
Octavia gasped as the combatant’s scale-splattered legs came into focus.
Combined with her size, they were an obvious hint—a hint she couldn’t help but want to reject.
“Their chains stem from their sworn loyalty to Cadria, from their absolute obedience to the throne. And they alone should have already explained my identity.” All that was left was her helm. But even without it removed, the audience was astir, half its members already screaming in excitement and jubilation. “I am one of the most decorated among our number, for I have escaped the Lost Labyrinth, conquered the bitter north, and slain the Goddess of Weights and Measures.” The helm clattered away and revealed an all-too-familiar face. Even those who didn’t recognize her features knew her by her ears, for they were nothing short of irrational. “My name is Claire. I am the halfbred daughter of Violet Eurylia and Virillius Augustus, and the heir to the Phantom Blood.”
Her body changed as she spoke. Suddenly, she sprouted a giant, serpentine tail and grew to twice her height while her feet turned into hooves and multiplied; a second pair sprouted from the back of a centaurian body as wings popped out from behind her and a horn erupted from the side of her forehead. Her arms, which had appeared mostly elven at first, became a pair of fully-scaled talons with only four digits apiece.
It was an adult form.
One that combined her parents’ features.
One that Cadria had never quite known.
Claire Augustus
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Health: 1.7350e13 (100%)
Mana: Immeasurable
Racial Class: Unidentifiable Aberrant Limit Breaker Class - Level 3473
Titular Class: Witch of the Seventh Tempest - Level 7151
Notable Equipment: Formless Cloak of Unfading Starlight (Quality: 13915)
The crowd lost its collective mind.
Cadrians from all walks of life practically leapt from the stands in excitement.
The princess wasn’t just going to demonstrate her strength. She was going to demonstrate it against her father. In other words, at least one of them was sure to show the full extent of their might.
Further fanning the fire was the fact that her ability scores were distributed in a way not too different from her father’s. They were both battlemages. And that was precisely the sort of fight that would be the most entertaining.
“Claire!?” cried Octavia. “You have to be kidding me! I was swooning over my own cousin this whole time!?”
Claire didn’t bother responding, especially not since Octavia’s voice was echoing through the stadium.
“Er, I mean, uh, what a surprising turn of events! It turns out, the final Vel’khanese fighter and the person responsible for instigating this proxy war was none other than our very own princess!”
For most, that was where everything clicked into place. Suddenly, they understood how the Vel’khanese had known about the old Cadrian tradition. They instantly and easily rationalised Tornatus’ overnight destruction. After all, Claire was Virillius’ daughter. And if she was capable of felling a god, then it only stood to reason that she could have easily obliterated a city.
There was just one problem.
An issue that only a few happened to notice.
“Wait, that’s impossible!” shouted Octavia, as she came to a sudden realisation. “You can’t be Claire! Claire’s up there! With the other VIPs!” She pointed at the floating box, wherein the princess was clearly seated.
“I can be in two places at once.” Claire responded without missing a beat, her expression as cold and unaffected as ever. She’d made the statement with such utter confidence that there wasn’t a soul who dared to doubt it. “Now, as I was saying, before I introduced myself, it is time for the Polluxes to pay their due.” She turned her eyes to the crowd again. “In the name of Claire Augustus, I hereby sentence Timaios Pollux’s bloodline to death.”
There was no violence.
There was no gore.
It was the same phenomenon that the crowd and analysts had failed to decipher after rewatching Ephesus’ death in slow motion.
The Polluxes simply fell limp.
Unlike their restraints, their executions had nothing to do with their loyalties. While the Rite of Allegiance certainly assured obedience, it was incapable of anything beyond it. Their exterminations could only have been by her hand. She was showing them her power, blessing them with an absurd, impossible display of her overwhelming strength.
The audience was as galvanized as it was distressed, struck with as much fear as it was shock and awe.
Still, the show had to go on. Taking a breath, Octavia shook her head free of all distractions and spoke with her voice still shaky.
“W-what an incredible demonstration!” she said. “But can it stand up to our God-King’s might? To answer that question, we have no choice but to turn our eyes on the field of battle.” The arena started to ripple and creak, to grow ever wider as it opened into a sprawling, opalescent panorama. Covered in flowers of all different colours and dotted with gentle slopes aplenty was an untamed meadow. The otherwise uniform sight was interrupted only by the giant limestone obelisks slowly rising from beneath the ground. It soon grew evident that it was home to a temple—a place crafted in the war goddess’ name. “Our next destination is a classic, a place where warriors aplenty have faced judgement beneath Vella’s gaze. It is a perfect replica of her holy land, the grave of every warrior who she has ever deemed worth—”
“I will have to stop you there.”
There was a crack—a worldsplitting sound accompanied by a web of hairline distortions. They were not impressed upon the barrier or any other distinct object, but reality itself. The crowd tried to break into a confused panic, but ultimately fell silent; everyone who tried to speak found that their voices were stolen.
But of course they were.
For it was only with express permission that mere mortals could speak before the gods.
The fractured veil crumbled to reveal a thousand divine watchers.
Vella, Goddess of War.
Primrose, Goddess of the Harvest.
Wrendle, Celestial of Tainted Land.
Flux, Goddess of the Flow.
Woodrow, Celestial of Chronicles.
Altea, Goddess of Truth.
Zercesse, Celestial of Kept Time.
Kindleton, Celestial of Wrongful Addition.
Ira, God of Abyssal Depths.
Alfred, Celestial of Life.
Krebb, God of Cylinders.
Glarchest, God of the Second Plague.
Vinblut, God of Gluttony.
Brimsmor, Celestial of the Hearth.
Kael’ahruus, God of the Hunt.
Lohor, God of Commerce.
Rosabelle, Celestial of Shooting Stars.
Builledracht, God of Curses.
Wooburn, Aarasel, and Plingar, from the Divine Collective of Art and Song.
Ashbill, God of Cooking.
Rikael, Goddess of Light.
So on and so forth, they were gathered, watching from positions around the colosseum, their presence once unknown to all but the two in the ring.
“Claire and Virillius Augustus cannot be allowed to clash within Cadria’s arena. In fact, they cannot be allowed to clash on Mara, for any such event is sure to spell this planet’s destruction lest they are heavily restricted.” The speaker was the brown-skinned goddess at the head of the table—the cat-eared monstrosity who reigned as the mightiest of all. Even without having met before, they knew—the whole audience knew that she was Flitzegarde, the almighty Goddess of Order.
Her words cast a shadow over the crowd. Though unable to speak, the whole audience was vehemently begging in protest, for most of the observers were Cadrian. And if the world was all that they had to offer to witness the duel that would cause its destruction, then they were ready to present it upon a silver platter. Even knowing that it meant their very own deaths, they would happily oblige. Just to be a part of the beginning of the end.
And the goddess knew that as well.
That was why she’d greeted them with a brilliant smile.
Unlike her foolish subjects, she understood that, by denying them, she’d only be doing them a favour.
“That is why I will allow them to fight in a faraway land across the cosmos, where they will be free to use all of their power.” She opened her hand as she spoke and projected an image atop her palm. It was a tiny recreation. But somehow, everyone in the colosseum saw it in perfect detail. It was a bright blue planet, a world covered in water and vegetation. “It will be the very first time that both are truly broken from their chains. For while the system bestows strength upon most, to them, it has been nothing but a limiter, a tool meant to ensure that they will not end all life on this planet.”
Coming from Flitzegarde herself, the claim could only have been the truth. Still, the audience struggled to accept it—to understand and accept that the system was weakening father and daughter alike.
“Fear not, you will still be given the opportunity to spectate,” said Flitzegarde. “I will not only present a viewport that encapsulates the battle in three dimensions and provide a more detailed status display, but accelerate the perception of all who look upon it. For all who wish to witness this moment deserve to see it in its entirety.”
Claire and Virillius were gone by the time she finished speaking, already ported to the world that suddenly appeared in all of their eyes.
“This is Eudysseus, a planet configured to be much like your own. Both gravitationally and climate-wise, it is nearly identical, differing only on account of a few supporting structures.” The projection spun around and showcased a set of continents—not that many in the audience knew their world’s appearance. “Located within the outermost reaches of the Alcora Eleven system, it was the sixty second world in this realm to be seeded with life. But while the greenery blossomed, and while animals of all shapes and sizes took form, no creatures developed the sentience needed to mark it as a viable seed. Still, on Eudysseus, the system lurks, awaiting the moment when life acquires its intelligence. Alas, with this battle on its grounds, that day will never arrive.” Flitzegarde smiled wistfully before sweeping her hand and focusing on the Cadrian pair. They stood atop a smoking mountain, with one fighter on either side of the grand caldera.
A pair of boxes appeared in the corners of the observers’ eyes as she wrapped up her description.
Virillius Augustus
Health: 2.7164e16 (100%)
Mana: 4.8568e17 (100%)
Divinity: 734109432 (100%)
Agility: 1767921855
Dexterity: 6576507253
Spirit: 1576191528
Strength: 39489735730
Vitality: 905466118
Wisdom: 6475676514
Racial Class: Aspect of Divine Insurrection - Level 4999
Primary Titular Class: Godbreaker - Level Transcended*
Secondary Titular Class: Death’s End - Level Transcended*
Notable Equipment: Sthenian Princess’ Ring of Vows (Quality: 1000)
* This class has continued to grow after reaching the systemic limit of 10000. The system is no longer capable of tracking its progression.
Finally, there were numbers.
Ridiculous, nonsensical numbers.
Claire Augustus
Health: 1.7350e13 (100%)
Mana: -1 (#DIV/INF) [Throughput: 1.2511e14]
Divinity: 10970354169 (100%)
Agility: 61902346
Dexterity: 58932406
Spirit: 38671127
Strength: 100646221
Vitality: 57834027
Wisdom: 83406393
Racial Class: Aspect of Forsaken Fetters - Level 3473
Titular Class: Witch of the Seventh Tempest - Level 7151
Notable Equipment: Formless Cloak of Unfading Starlight (Quality: 13915)
Again, the numbers were so mind bogglingly large that they were complete gobbledygook to the average person. They had no frame of reference. All they could say for certain was that she was weaker.
Either way, the values were but one piece of the puzzle.
There was still the matter of their skills, and the Goddess knew better than to further reveal their hands.
All she did was settle into her seat.
And signal the battle’s inception.
