Weapons of Mass Destruction

Chapter 397: Clash with the locals

The Veil Ignition Station known as Cinder, is a pyramid made of metal. Up close the surface isn’t quite as smooth as it looked from a distance, its sheer size serving to smooth out any inconsistencies in its form.

The exterior is covered in a combination of silver and gray metals, with orange-ish veins of a different material tracing its way through the surface.

The external surface is covered in huge doors, leading to a vast multitude of terraces. Each accounting for an area spanning several city blocks, and higher up the surface, I begin to see a number of stone and wood clinging to the metal exterior, as various humanoid figures bustle about.

“This is where I leave you for now; you two go on together. I will rejoin you later.” With that, Lissandra strides off, entering the pyramid through a long tunnel leading to what appears to be an elevator shaft.

“Want to go up from the outside?” I ask Myrra.

”I donʼt mind,” she answers, and with that, we start scaling the pyramid.

Despite her apparent lack of enthusiasm, I can still see her tail swaying from side to side. Myrra is a curious creature, and she’s never been able to hide it.

And, itʼs not like Iʼm not curious myself. The only thing that could be an issue is the relative strength of the natives. Myrra and I both have inscriptions restraining our bodies, and they’re always active at some level. Itʼs not terrible, but itʼs powerful enough that it’s forcing me to use kinetic energy just to be able to walk.

Plus, Lissandra decided that I was finding things a bit too easy, and added a disrupting effect to interfere with my mana, not unlike the imps from the tunnels she left me in. Most of my focus and attention is being taken up by the process of walking without my mana ruining my body.

I might make it seem easygoing, but to be honest, it’s taking a lot out of me just trying to keep it up. Even more so than it did before, I catch myself wanting to sleep or just to take a rest for a bit.
Itʼs a lot. And Myrra isnʼt so different.

She must have guessed what Iʼm thinking about because she jokes, “If we get our asses kicked by some level 100 guy, I’m leaving you and running away.”

“I donʼt know, sometimes I feel like a level 50 would be enough to kick my ass.” I use just a bit of kinetic energy and boost myself up onto one of the terraces, which I find to be individual segments of the pyramid.

“Thatʼs pathetic, feral one. Not even I feel that way. To get me, they would need to be level 51 at least.”

“The way you move your mana is pathetic. I’ve never seen such a poor form. I swear…”

“…I swear I knew noble ladies whose pets had better control over their mana than you,” Myrra finishes, clearly annoyed by the comparison. Her canines drawing free of her lips.

We jump a few more times, slowly moving toward a group of people, and I continue to examine the pyramid as we go.

As I do, I come to find my first impressions vindicated, the metal surface is nearly perfect. Even after who knows how many years, It hasn’t taken any significant damage, though there are scratches here and there. However, we are on the opposite side of the structure from the skeletal remains of that giant snake. Iʼm sure that part is damaged.

Another interesting thing is that as the day turns into night, the pyramid is getting warmer while the surrounding area is getting colder. Not uncomfortably so; but enough to create a cozy pocket of warmth that Is slowly rising in temperature.

It seems like the pyramid is absorbing heat from the surrounding area and It doesnʼt seem like it’ll be done for a while yet. Iʼm curious to see how high it’ll go.

Before we can reach the platform and the humans on it, a few of them start heading our way, with weapons drawn and skills at the ready. The men and women approaching us are dressed in mismatched armor, not to mention their weird mix of weapons and wild eyed expressions. Each one is around level 100.

What surprises me most though is the way they go about trying to estimate my power. It’s not something I’ve seen in a long time. Itʼs terrible like I’m being repeatedly slapped with wet spaghetti.

“We will need you to pay a toll to enter,” the woman with the highest level speaks first, stepping forward and gesturing, “The ax and the blade should do.”

She seems to be indicating my Flamebearer and voidsteel blade, which I’ve continued to carry despite the fact that I rarely have a use for them.

“Just kill them. I bet they have some nicer stuff as well.” One of the others smirks, already holding his weapon.

“Maybe we shouldnʼt; they must be somewhat strong if they’ve managed to make it all the way here.”

“Oh, shut up, Veril. Anyone could do that. There aren’t many monsters in the area, and just look at them, they look like they’re about to fall apart. Look at them, they’re bleeding.”

The bleeding in question is a side effect of our active inscriptions and the occasional lapse in control. Though Iʼm not really willing to explain that. I’d rather listen to their conversation. After all, I’ve found myself in quite an interesting situation. Like low-grade thugs stopping the protagonist from reaching a certain area.

Itʼs a fun experience until one of them decides to attack us from behind, using the others as a distraction. The way he moves makes it clear he’s going in for the kill, his blade lashing out for Myrraʼs neck.

Before he even reaches her, he staggers, the dagger tumbling from his hands, a deep cut violating the integrity of his neck, as Myrra’s Aurora glass shimmers in the air.

Three more jump at me, one seizing control of my shadow in an attempt to bind me, as another’s skill struggles to disrupt my mana, leaving the third man to rush me as armor made of mana begins sprouting from his body.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Each of them stops mid-attack and I place three anchors. Three bursts of kinetic energy erupt next to them, and their headless bodies fall to the ground.

Somebody screams, and projectiles crash into Myrraʼs barrier of Aurora glass and I retaliate by launching a projectile at the attacker and receive a notification confirming the kill.

Myrra boosts herself towards two more of the attackers, throwing one off the pyramid and far into the distance, as he flails his arms before crashing into the ground and lying still. Either dead or acting. The second attacker dies as Myrra caves his chest in with a single punch, probably destroying his heart.

The last one tries to escape so I teleport through an anchor I placed on him grabbing his arm, and pulling him towards me, dislocating it. He’s the one who noted that we might be a little bit strong.

He keeps screaming, either out of fear, desperation, or pain. If itʼs the pain, Iʼll be disappointed; his wounds are barely worth mentioning.

For a moment, I glance up at the hundred or so people looking down at us. They’ve clearly separated themselves into distinct groups, probably gangs. Some are laughing, some are pale in the face. I also notice a few of them rushing up the pyramid, eager to spread the news.

“If you donʼt put a stop to all this screaming and whining, you will die.”

It takes him a moment, but he does manage to shut himself up, clenching his teeth, as I notice the tears in his eyes. He is fairly young, barely twenty years old, and most of his items are barely in the realm of uncommon grade.

[Shadow Whisperer - lvl 78]

Myrra steps closer as well, towering over the young man whose heart begins to beat even faster.

“What are we asking him?” Myrra turns to me.

“Good question. What does Lissandra want here?”

“Something stashed away in the pyramid? The remains of a Champion? More information? Not like she will tell us.”

“Thatʼs true.” I shake the young man, “Who’re the highest level people around? Who runs the place?”

“Champion Zey and his five disciples! They live at the top!” he manages to get out, and I notice that he’s started to sway. Itʼs just a dislocated arm! Why’s he being such a wuss about it?

“Someone pretending to be a Champion?” I ask Myrra.

“For sure.”

“He is not! He beat the Arch Serpent and saved us all those years ago! Itʼs him who controls all and gives us warmth so we can survive the night. Itʼs him who defends us against all the monst…”

With a sigh, I let him go and push him to the ground with a weak burst of kinetic energy, sending him to the ground, where he smartly stays lying without any movement.

Is he a possum or something?

Then I use another one to jump to the next platform, repeating the action twice more, Myrra following behind.

So someone’s probably found a way to control a few of the minor functions of the Veil Ignition Station, it’s probably someone from before the war. Champion Zey, he seems to be calling himself, taking advantage of the title to cling to power. Almost like a cult leader.

Itʼs a different style of governance from the Sanctuary, the Workshop, or even the Bastion, but it’s not really surprising.

Of course, there is the slim chance he turns out to be a real Champion, but I have a feeling Lissandra would have told us if that were the case.

We finally reach a platform with buildings, I give them a glance. They’re all wood and stone construction with some weird glue-like material to serve as the mortar. All of these buildings sharply contrast with the smooth metal of the pyramid.

It makes for a rickety, ratted out mess, as we saw from the lower platforms. People walk around in old, tattered clothes. There are shops and craftsmen in some of the buildings, but none of them seem any better constructed for it.

I guess the higher on the pyramid, the more powerful the people and the nicer the buildings we can expect to see.

“Fuck, these inscriptions are going to kill me, feral one,” Myrra complains, approaching me.

“They’re fine.”

“Then why do you look like you’re going to pass out? Look, your mana’s leaking and you’re bleeding all over the place!”

“Isnʼt this much normal while training?”

I do not get an answer, and her expression takes on a mix of amusement, pity, worry, and frustration. Her fluffy tail all but confirms it as it flits about in a confused manner.

Thatʼs when an item falls between me and Myrra. I sense it heading our way, but I’m curious to see what it’ll do.

It turns out to be an orb the size of my fist, and it turns out to contain a decent amount of heat, not to mention that the container seems interesting on its own. The orb’s been made from a thin glass-like material engraved with simple inscriptions. I wanna say that its rarity sits somewhere around uncommon? Maybe a step away from rare, but no higher than that.

The surface starts to crack as I kneel down and poke it.

The cracks grow wider, and one of the inscriptions starts to shine just a touch brighter, serving to release the concentrated heat in a single burst.

To be honest, the whole setup is clumsy, nearly to the point Iʼm surprised that it seems to be working.

More heat passes through the crack, and it expands, the inscriptions bursting into full activity as I grab the orb, leaning in close to examine it further.

All of the heat contained inside is released at once, rushing to melt my face off along with a small area around me. It’s a bit amateurish by my standards, the blast isnʼt all that concentrated, and its simple release mechanism only serves to weaken the effect.

I absorb the heat of the explosion and start spinning it around my head before absorbing it into my body, using it to fuel my passive and heal some of the wounds caused by my lapses in control.

Lissandraʼs inscriptions are truly evil. I’ll just have to learn how to make and improve on them, maybe.

Looking up, I catch a glimpse of Myrra, who’s already reached our attacker while avoiding another orb. At this point, she merely breaks his neck and throws him into the distance.

It must be nice to have such high natural physical stats.

“Want to catch some and gather information?” she asks as she nimbly lands next to me.

Even though she complains about the inscriptions nonstop, she also seems to be doing well. However, she doesn’t really have much choice now that Lissandra’s decided to teach her. Iʼm sure that cockroach wouldnʼt have bothered if Myrra werenʼt talented.

“Letʼs just climb higher. If they attack, we kill them. If not, we leave them be. There doesn’t seem to be much to learn here, we should probably head higher before trying to ask again. Catching that fake Champion and his “disciples” are optional.”

“Sounds like a plan, feral one. Let us head higher then. I’m eager to find out what’s inside and at the top.”