Weapons of Mass Destruction

Chapter 576: Clash of the disciples

The minion event, or rather the unofficial event, ramps up gradually. And even though some of the little guys have been ejected from the arena, there arenʼt many given the size of the event area.

Gradually, monsters start appearing too, and weather changes begin to influence the battlefield. Now the sunny day has been replaced by a blizzard that causes the lakeʼs surface to freeze over, allowing a grand melee to break out across the ice.

Some disciples fight their way through the buildings while a smaller group has decided to band together to fight off the monsters and other participants. Yet slowly but surely, more and more disciples join groups to avoid being ganged up on or to hunt stronger monsters.

Vega isnʼt one of them, but her senses are among the best, so she does a good job avoiding the larger groups and doesnʼt seem to mind playing dirty or ambushing those she catches unaware.

I might be biased, but I would say that she’s clearly one of the strongest.

Rooted in place, I continue to observe the event, even though Lissandra has already left. Watching the little guys give their all, pushing their abilities to the limit, and using their cute skills to cause minor damage to the buildings is exciting. I know I’ve said it before, but scenes like this make me understand how so many people become sports fans.

I find myself glued to the screens every time one of the favorites get into a clash, whenever someone takes on multiple opponents, or anytime a minion turns out to be a clever little shit.

These situations spark shouting throughout the common area. There’s a rush of betting, and even fights starting to break out when people start taking offence on behalf of their favourites.

When only half of the disciples remain, the weather changes once more. The blizzard comes to an end, as if it never existed in the first place, only to be replaced with a sandstorm. The remaining snow melts, the ice cracks, and the city and its surrounding areas start filling with yellow sand, which gathers in massive drifts that lean against the buildings. The sun shining in the sky seems to grow larger, and droplets of sweat run down the little guysʼ foreheads. The previously wild fights begin to cool off, growing more stealth focused as most of the combatants start retreating to the refuge offered by the buildings.

Itʼs amusing to see parts of the crowd fall silent and hold their breath as their favorites sneak through the dark past a larger group of disciples or when a similar group passes by a spot where some lone disciple is hiding.

Myrra joins me during one of the less eventful moments. She watches the screen, and when she realizes that itʼs still a parade of minions sneaking around and searching for opponents, she, to no great surprise, turns to antagonize me. Like a typical extroverted lynthari.

Maybe the true Hell difficulty is the extroverts we meet along the way.

”Feral one.”

”Yes, thatʼs me.”

”Your performance during the last event was straight gas, it just hit different. Mad heat and high-key goated. On god, no cap, fr fr.”

”Myrra.”

”Yes?”

”What the fuck.”

”Hehe.”

”Twins?”

”Yes! And the red-headed boy they call Brainiac.”

”I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, you’re way too easily influenced by this kind of thing, you should really avoid those three.”

”Wasnʼt it you who started it back on the 5th floor? I think you called yourself a cooked goat or something…”

”And there isnʼt a day I donʼt regret it. Sandra told me that you guys were planning to leave.”

”Aww, do you miss me already, feral one?”

”Itʼs sudden. And I was just getting used to your annoying face.” I reply.

Mischief in her eyes, she leans closer instead of answering. Her fangs show every time she experiences a spike of emotion, and her tail sways. As always, it makes me want to grab and pull it.

One day for sure.

”Itʼs fine. Iʼve already reconciled myself with whatever will happen. Of course, I’d prefer if we were to succeed and Lady Lissandra and I make it out, but even if we fail, I’ll understand. Iʼve already gotten more time than I should have, and itʼs all thanks to you, you know.”

”I see.”

”Feral one, why are you looking away? Are you feeling shy? Show me those beautiful eyes of yours, let me try and read your emotions. If you want, I can try and force you. Letʼs fight, no mana or other bullshit, just our bodies like in the tunnels when we hunted the First One.”

”Myrra.”

”Yes?”

”Wait here a moment.”

Checking the screen, I quickly teleport to my place and rummage through the pile of shirts until I find a black shirt with a particular print.

I teleport back and hand it to Myrra, ”For you.”

She glances down at it and then back to me, her ears constantly twitching. Then she ties up her white hair, all the while keeping her golden eyes on me, and throws the shirt on over the one she’s already wearing.

Looking down at the drawing, she asks, ”What kind of animal is this?”

”A possum. Itʼs from Earth.”

”Itʼs screaming.”

”Yes, it is.”

”And the red text below?”

”It says ʼAaaaaaah.ʼ”

”Are you hinting at something, feral one?”

”I wouldnʼt dare.”

”You little shit, letʼs…”

She stops when I lift a finger and point to the screen. On the screen, Vega finally manages to sneak up on a group of three other minions: two vyssari, who are adorably tiny, and a velnar who towers over them both. The trio is unaware of her and have begun to argue so vehemently that it seems like a fight is about to break out.

Vega readies her dagger and uses more kinetic energy than she can handle. Instead of moving fluidly, her body crashes into one of the vyssari, and they both roll across the floor. My minion is the first to regain her bearings, and her dagger, coated in mana, comes down, stabbing her opponent until a cloud of shining blue particles burst forth.

She boosts herself again and crashes into one of the walls with a loud thump, but it allows her to avoid a lightning strike from the remaining vyssari.

Rising to her feet, the little half-demon smiles with her red eyes glowing dangerously in the darkness of the room as sand covers most of the windows. A little light filters through the dust and sand particles start falling toward the floor. There’s blood on the side of her head, but she doesnʼt seem to notice. A golden circle flashes around the pupil of one of her red eyes, and she charges.

Even though the remaining two put up more of a fight, she still defeats them both. She first takes down the remaining vyssari with a well-timed mana projectile and then defeats the velnar in a one on one physical fight, even though the velnar clearly should have higher physical stats.

While Myrra finds herself engrossed, shouting curses at my minion’s opponents and praising the “devious little shit,” when Lily appears by our side.

She tries to hide it, but the vibrations from her regenerating muscles tell me enough. Is this maniac trying to mimic my Wraith Dance using only raw physical power?

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Surprisingly, Myrra, despite her spicy language, doesnʼt so much as try to provoke Lily when she suddenly appears. I guess thatʼs what a constant regimine of getting your ass beat by little miss ”Iwanttobeabuldozerwhenigrowup” does to you.

”Vega is doing super well!” Lily smiles at me. ”And you did well too, Nat.”

”Thank you. Which one is yours?”

”Pallius is the feylith in the black suit with the adorably serious expression. He’s in a group with two thylarin.”

”Found him.”

As Lily said, the little guy has an arrogant, serious expression and, even after so many weather changes, his clothes remain nearly perfect. Only one of his small wings is slightly damaged, but it’s healing, and currently, both his hair and eyes have taken on a pale shade of red as the trio walks on the stairs.

”Do you know if Victoria has a disciple?” Lily asks out of nowhere.

That interrupts my train of thought, and after a pause, I answer, ”I never asked.”

”What would you guess?”

”Knowing her, she surely does.” I pause as I notice a few presences from group 4 moving closer. ”Did you notify others of our location?”

Lily doesnʼt even try to hide it and nods swiftly, ”So we can watch the event together.”

With a sigh, I throw one of my Ley Lines into the distance and prepare to teleport away for some time alone.

Before I can leave, I feel a touch on my hand and look down to find Lily holding it.

”Please, stay with us,” she asks softly, then lets go just as quickly, leaving the decision fully up to me.

I watch her for a moment longer. She meets my gaze without hesitation, without so much as a blush, and smiles.

Instead of leaving, I create a manabloc chair and sit in it. Only to find myself immediately being pestered by Myrra, so I create one for her too, and then it feels a bit wrong to leave Lily standing, so I make one for her as well.

Once I sit down, I glance to my right at Lily, who stares at the screen observing her disciple, and my thoughts begin to wander.

I can see why even her grumpy cat eventually warmed up to her.

Dennis and Aaron do not join a minion murdering event watch party, and Izzy stays with them to offer her support. The reason is obvious and unspoken.

There are friendly bets, bickering over whose disciple will win, and even some silly banter. Myrra seems to fit in with group 4 surprisingly well, and the others seem to treat her almost like one of our original members. Later, even Channeler and a few of his friends decide to join in. A group of useful men and women from all difficulty levels who seem happy to listen to him, each of whom I lovingly refer to as members of Channelerʼs harem.

Itʼs still amusing to watch guys from Hard difficulty who could kill Channeler with the wave of their hand be so friendly with him, all the while clearly acknowledging him as a leader. And Channeler himself doesnʼt even seem to think of it that way; he’s friendly with everyone and has a seemingly limitless social energy.

Must be some kind of trait or upper arcane passive.

Itʼs also amusing to watch the expressions of the harem as group 4 starts betting some of the upper epic items they’ve collected through the floors. For Hard difficulty, even a low epic item is a highly treasured resource. Upper epic items are something very few of them possess. As for Normal and Easy difficulty, even rare items tend to be highly valued.

Situations like this always serve to remind me just how skewed our perspectives are, especially when Maya, with a sigh, gives a low epic protective pendant to a Normal difficulty woman after losing a bet. The woman spends a few minutes constantly asking if she can really take it and only stops when Channeler assures her that it’s fine.

Itʼs unexpectedly endearing to watch the 50-year-old woman wrap the pendant in cloth, her hands trembling as she hides it from view.

That scene reminds me of a similar situation from my childhood. After our first apartment burned, our father lost his job, and we had to move; my mom came home and called Victoria and me to happily give us our first laptop to share. It was something she bought second-hand with what little money she was able to save.

Back then, I didnʼt think much of it. Thatʼs just how children are. Sure, I was happy, and Victoria and I thanked her, but I hadnʼt realized the struggle. I might have overlooked the sadness on her face a few days later when she asked how we liked the laptop. Maybe she was hoping to bask in our excitement, to relive the joy her gift had brought.

Such a small detail I had overlooked, and surely just one of many.

It’s for that reason that for the rest of the event, half of my focus is on the event while the rest observes the people Channeler brought here. I read their mana signatures, I examine their bodies, and the items they carry. Even the slightest movements of the mana in their bodies, the energy they emit, and the kinetic vibrations surrounding them are enough to suit my purpose.

Itʼs easy for me to do, something I can manage even while observing the event. It costs me next to nothing.

Slowly, I tailor something useful for each of them. A training method, a bit of information, advice on development, things like that. I inscribe these ruminations onto a few mana stones, which I then hand to Channeler and inform him, through our communication link, that he should give it to them later.

All of this happens just as the unofficial event slowly comes to its end. The weather is calm now, and the sky is dark. A blue moon shines in the starless sky, and the remaining disciples stand at the bottom of what used to be a lake, the water having evaporated during one of the weather changes. The bottom of the lake having revealed itself to be covered in pale white mana crystals that emit a gentle light.

Five minions remain.

A demon, a half-demon, a thylarin with six arms, a lumoran girl, and a girl of the same race as Beatrice, the archonʼs daughter, back on the 6th floor, remain. The girl has pink hair and skin, white freckles, and eyes that are a mix of blue and green.

The half-demon is obviously my minion.

The thylarin and lumoran attack the demon boy together while Vega fights the pink-skinned girl.

Even now, tired and sluggish in her movements, Vega shows no hesitation. She moves with exactly the same aggression and hunger she showed at the start.

For someone so young, the pink-skinned girl shows an impressive degree of control over her mana, which she uses to launch a series of ranged attacks in the form of striking projectiles. But in the end, she cannot defend herself against Vega, who resorts to using her kinetic energy to get close and break through the defenses in her way. The fight is soon decided, and in that moment of victory, Vega indulges a bad habit she never quite managed to shake.

Overcome by the feeling of victory, she glances at the space the pink girl once occupied and, for a moment, stops checking her surroundings.

Her reward for the lapse is the young demon crashing into her and sending her flying, having already dealt with the thylarin and lumoran minions. He doesnʼt even bother to pursue the attack and stands there with a calm, calculating expression. He looks to be around 7 to 9 years old and, unlike Vega, his horns are longer and curl slightly, reaching toward the back of his head. Even though his hair is every bit as white as that of most of the demons I’ve seen, his eyes are of a different color. They’re both purple with a white circle around the pupils.

The common area erupts in commotion as people start shouting. Some curse the guy while others cheer at the screen for Vega as she gets to her feet and wipes the blood from her face.

The demon charges her again, and Vega is sent flying through the air and crashes into the crystal nearby.

She stands up again, but before she can recover, her attack is being blocked, her guard is opened by a well-timed punch, and she finds herself being thrown back once more and left lying there with the wind knocked out of her.

Taking a few slow, deliberate steps, the young demon walks toward her, confident in his own victory, but for a moment, he hesitates as Vega climbs to her feet again.

She looks intensely focused now, staring him down as blood covers her lips and streams from her forehead into one of her eyes.

Instead of waiting, she charges at him. Itʼs not the wobbly movements of the wounded and exhausted. No, she flies through the air like a rocket boosted by kinetic energy.

The demon barely has time to lift his arms in defense as both of them are sent rolling. Vega tries to stab him, but he disarms her and breaks her arm.

Vega screams and smashes her head down, breaking his nose with her forehead and causing the first wound he’s accrued since the start of the event.

The entire common area roars in excitement, but the noise cuts off as Vega is blown away by the guyʼs impressive strength. She crashes onto a nearby glowing mana crystal, its surface covered with splashed blood.

An explosion erupts, but not at Vega. It comes from the demon on the ground, triggered by the orb of compressed kinetic energy she left on his body before being thrown away.

Rubble is sent flying as the blast tears through the ground, scattering blood in every direction. When the dust clears, the young demon remains, his body ravaged by deep, gruesome wounds. He staggers slightly, but his glaring expression is every bit as calm as it was before.

And he still hasn’t been declared dead.

The blood dripping from his body stops and is pulled back instead, and his wounds start regenerating slowly, the more blood he absorbs. He even takes a step and touches Vegaʼs blood where it’s been scattered across the ground, and it seeps into his body and heals him further.

Finally having recovered, he turns to her. Rather than approaching, he calmly grabs a stone from the ground, weighing it in his hand as he prepares to throw it.

The first stone flies toward her head, but as it approaches, it slows down and gently brushes her forehead. The same happens with the next three stones, no matter how much energy he puts into the throws, each of the stones is directed at her head with cold calculation, but Vega stops them with her kinetic energy absorption.

Vega shouts something at him, making him pause. He answers and shakes his head.

Unable to move but having already gathered enough kinetic energy to break free, Vega boosts herself toward him.

This time, though, he expects it and steps aside before she can launch herself forward. Her body flies past him, and he simply watches, expecting her to crash somewhere in the direction she boosted herself.

But Vega absorbs her movement and stops midair as if she hit a brick wall, just an armʼs reach from the demon. The mana dagger in her hand extends as she slashes at him.

Even then, his face betrays no sense of surprise. His hand moves, redirecting her force to deflect the attack. With a motion that feels both unnervingly slow and startlingly fast, he steps in and lands multiple strikes. The final blow shattering Vega into a cloud of blue particles.

Someone in the crowd curses loudly, while another bursts into excited laughter, and both are quickly drowned out by the continued chaos in the common area.