Weapons of Mass Destruction

Chapter 688: Above the battlefield

We return to Black Tower City once the light starts creeping out. In the distance, roars, screeches, and deep vibrations echo as powerful monsters make their way into the shadows. Even within the safety of the outpost, we can sense these powerful presences circling around.

It is also the hour when all city guards and the local “king” sitting in his towers make sure the number of people inside hasn’t exceeded the limit. They watch from afar in every direction, and I am certain that if any attendee or local rushing into the city were to cause that number to be exceeded, they would be killed from a distance, no matter who they were. Either that, or they would be forced to stay outside, far away from the city.

Sometimes I still catch myself thinking how crazy it would be if the city had exactly ten thousand people, and then one more person slipped in, somehow breaking the defenses, however they’re supposed to work.

Weslin and the others separate, each heading to their rooms, the guild facilities, or into the city to blow off steam. I find myself heading back to the basement, into that voidcopper-plated room, waking up the sleeping Doc in the process so that we can unlock it.

I want to train. The sheer possibilities opened by my effort and experiments will not let me rest.

And after all, I know there’s going to be more attacks tomorrow.

Once morning comes and we return to the base, my work starts. I find myself being peppered with complaints as I do so, but I ignore them, connecting to the array surrounding the base. I begin modifying it while taking it fully under my control.

When the ones in charge of it raise their voice for me to stop, I face them with a simple: Make me.

I stare them down, letting my two hearts beat in a twisted, combined rhythm, while the halo over my head spins wildly as my accumulated mana rages inside it.

But they do not try to push me. Unlike Talon, I have set clear boundaries with them. While I may not mind some messing around, there are situations where I truly appreciate being left alone to do what I think is best.

I erase a few of the supportive webs and change the shapes of others. I drain mana storage batteries as I expand the web and connect it to my halo. A few threads float around me, coiling around my arms and shoulders, sticking to them like a sort of 3D tattoo.

It could be said that my work is going smoothly. It’s something I have wanted to do for a while, hijacking this kind of array and reshaping it entirely to support my own plans. It takes a few hours, but soon I am done. There are no signs of the triplets or their goons, no trace of that weird field they made before.

Plenty of time remains until night, so I move toward one of the mines. I enter and walk between supporting wooden beams. Every few steps, a symbol has been carved into the wall with a tiny mana battery fueling it, making the hallway glow with even light.

There’s a shaft heading straight downward. Wide enough to fit the entire length of a bus. Instead of waiting for the elevator or using stairs, I simply drop myself straight into the darkness.

As I fall, inscriptions around me react to my presence and light up, only to turn off as I descend.

Near the bottom, I absorb my momentum to land gently on the floor. A few more steps take me into another wide tunnel where I find a demon and a velnar loitering near one of the veins. It looks like lightning made of molten copper with a bluish shine.

You cannot sell it to the system shop. It has no name. Its mana conductivity is average at best. Weapons made from it are neither powerful nor special. I tested that much myself, just as many generations of locals and attendees before me have. The only real use for this metal is building up the core of the outpost, according to a set of blueprints left behind by who knows who.

At first, I helped mine it in hopes of increasing my participation and securing better rewards for this floor. Then the doc explained it to me in his own twisted way, even if it was easy to translate.

Simply put, completing Beyond floor quests from already cleared floors will never be as rewarding. Beyond is different from the tutorial. While it exists on the edge of the real world and the tutorial, it’s not really the same as either. There are parts of it that even the Rulers don’t have much influence over, and one of those is the way rewards are given.

The only exception is clearing the 5th floor and advancing to the 6th, something only a rare few are able to achieve. Otherwise, the other floors have been cleared many times before. At first, by the Rulers who found the First Dungeon. After they reached floors they could not clear, they tried to connect the dungeon to the system and the tutorial system, succeeding in some places while failing in others.

In some ways, it could be said that there are three separate systems. The main system, which seems to cover the entire universe as it continuously expands, forcing newly initiated planets into Pairings. Another subsystem for the tutorial. And still another for the First Dungeon. Similar to the other two, but nonetheless distinct.

To simplify it further, while my participation needs to be acknowledged for me to complete the 3rd floor quest, it does not need to be impressive, since the rewards will not improve much. I already mined plenty, killed monsters, and did my best to protect the outpost’s construction. That much the system will take into account.

It also confirms what I have suspected for a long time. For an average attendee, trips to Beyond might not be all that worth it. But the more powerful, lucky, or smart attendees can gain a lot from it. Information, connections, Beyond quests, Beyond events, any one of these can be more valuable than tutorial floor rewards, yet at the same time, they can also be far worse.

In the end, it truly is a place between the real world and the tutorial. It grants advantages to the First generation, though they are muted, and rewards those who put in the effort.

“Came to mine with us again, mana boy?” the demon asks first, using my appearance in the mine as an excuse to sneak in a cheeky break.

At this point, I don’t even bother trying to stop him. I’ve broken his arm multiple times, but it’s only made him more determined to call me that. A part of me suspects he might have heard Talon say it once and decided to keep using the nickname.

“One day I will bury you down here,” I note.

The demon gives it a thought. “That would be interesting to try. I wonder how long it would take me to get out. It’s half a mile to the surface, the rock surrounding us is…”

I ignore him as he starts making calculations with a bright look in his eyes, and turn to the velnar. “Ehm, I might have broken the array that kept the air circulating down here when I was taking over. I tried to fix it, but it has a terrible design that I hate.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

The velnar just stares at me without saying anything.

“Soo… I was hoping you could fix it, like before.”

“Fifth time,” he says.

“Ehm.”

“This is the fifth time you’ve broken it and then asked me to fix it. You say it is a terrible design, but that’s only because I had to patch it up after you broke it the first time. And the second. Then the third. And then you and Weslin kept telling us to hurry, and you never gave us time to make a new, proper one. What did you expect?”

“I mean, your patch worked pretty well.”

The velnar stares at me again, and in the background, the demon continues to estimate how much rock falling on him would be required to crush his body.

I initiate a transfer, sending five thousand shards to the velnar.

He rejects.

In response, I make it ten thousand.

He accepts.

I quickly leave, feeling his gaze on my back until I disappear around the corner.

As night starts closing in and I finish a conversation with Talon, we finally see movement. The three marks inside the Black Tower moving away from the city, heading our way.

Talon’s words fade into the background as I stand up from the chair I’ve been sitting in. The mana inside my halo spins faster, and the array I took over awakens. My Mana Wavelength Iris activates, aided by my Mana Physique and my unique arcane passive.

When Weslin looks at me, I gesture to him that I’ll take care of it, even as more presences start appearing and encircling the outpost. I detect multiple powerful items and mana batteries filled to the brim. These people cooperate with each other, setting up an array just beyond the edge of our own, though it’s not the same one that created the darkness before. And they wait for the triplets.

I follow my marks, sharpening my sight in their direction, and see the three lumorans appear just out of range.

They stand there. Watching. Calculating. Dragging out the moment. Predictable, almost dull, and most of all, disappointing.

I stand ready to accept their challenge, but they hesitate and wait, delaying the attack, as if their hesitation makes them clever.

A snort escapes me without my realizing, and I rise into the air.

POV Talon

The moment he rises into the air and Weslinʼs void energy starts to flicker around us in defense, I know things are about to go crazy. And they do.

All around Nathaniel, segments of his barrier light up as attacks rain down while he makes himself a target. That halo over his head grows an even darker shade of blue, and the mana inside starts spinning faster and faster while the flash of the incoming attacks explode around him. Then the halo expands to ten times its size, and in the next moment, condenses and turns pitch black.

The parts of our defensive array he took over light up, supporting him in whatever the hell he’s doing, and our industrial rated mana batteries drain in a few seconds. Then that black halo starts pulling in all the mana in the area. Mana from me, mana from the offensive array our opponents set, even drawing in the ambient mana around us.

He’s still just floating there, most of the attacks aren’t even reaching him now, breaking into mana particles before they even manage to get close, serving as fuel to be devoured by that black halo.

A pulse erupts from Nathaniel, and the world around us drains of color. The effect spreads further outward, swallowing even the area around the attackers. Only the golden rings around his pupils remain, burning all the brighter against the dark.

While the enemies scatter around us, erratic in their attempts to counter him, he calmly lifts an arm into the air, palm facing the sky. The projectile forms there. Threads of luminous mana coiling and fusing, as they pulse with a heartbeat all their own, forging a lance whose core blazes with a golden-white light. It shoots forth, near silent, and leaving a trail of pale blue, white, and gold, much more vibrant in the black and white shades surrounding us.

The lance pierces through whatever defenses the enemy prepared and even kills one of them.

Another lance forms right after, repeating the process.

The triplets in the distance gather together a circle of pale-blue mana glowing around them, spinning wildly. Their crystals glow, and similarly glowing white tattoos appear on their black bodies. The air trembles with the sense of danger radiating from their attack. A single purple projectile forms, a pyramid with a blazing white core, before shooting toward Nathaniel. It burns like a falling star, the sides of the pyramid flashing with shifting hues.

Nathaniel doesn’t move to evade. He halts the formation of another lance and simply watches the incoming projectile as it shakes the air around it.

But just like the previous attacks, before it can even come within reach, it starts to dissolve at the edges, already starting to break apart. Halfway through the process, it explodes, a countermeasure likely set in place by the triplets. The explosion paints the sky purple before it drains to black and white. Nathaniel still floats in place, untouched, the only change being the larger halo glowing above his head.

A smile spreads across his face, his eyes wide open like a demon’s, the golden circles of his trait burning with an endless, unnatural light.

Once again, he lifts his arm into the air, palm facing the sky. That movement is faster, more energetic, and almost playful. His smile widens.

Then a purple pyramid with a white core starts forming there instead of a lance. The pyramid spins, each side reflecting the nonexistent lights in the area. A thread of mana stretches from the black halo, latching onto the pyramid and pouring mana into it until it swells to three times the size of what the triplets created.

I sense Weslin near me moving into action now, and more of his void energy seeps into the area, stacking defenses around us while he mumbles something, but the entire time, I find myself unable to take my eyes off that pyramid.

The assault on Nathaniel intensifies. Dozens of projectiles, each molded in different colors and shapes, crash toward him, some dissolving into mana before they reach him, while others land, sparking his barrier to life in brief flashes.

His domain, draining all color, expands even further and engulfs the enemies attacking him. Like me, they discover they cannot use any skills to manipulate the mana outside their bodies, and only my Stellar Wind still answers.

With a roar like tearing metal, the pyramid rips ahead, the air shuddering under its speed, far beyond what the triplets managed.

The pyramid slams into the spot where the triplets once stood, the explosion catches them as they run away. The blast expands, the area around it warping under its heat. The surface ripples like liquid waves, stone melting and surging forward before hardening into a jagged sheet of glass. A moment later, the glass itself detonates, bursting into a storm of fine, razor-sharp particles that ride the shockwave outward, grinding everything in their path to nothing.

I start turning back towards Nathaniel when hundreds, thousands of finger long projectiles made of pale blue mana pass through the black sky, each trailing a line of glimmering mana behind them. They pour across the sky like a storm of falling stars, all streaking toward the triplets as more and more follow in their wake.

Another lance shoots off in the opposite direction, breaking the barrier and skewering an attacker with effortless precision. A moment later, a second lance follows. Attack after attack kills B ranks, and maybe even A ranks, without them even being able to stop them. Unable to use most of their escape skills at all, with mana constantly slipping out of their control.

In these moments, his mana feels bottomless, surging without end. Just the fact that it’s enough to sustain that monstrous domain is difficult to grasp.

Then the black halo above him finally unravels, and the last threads of mana are drawn back into his body. And when it’s gone, he looks unchanged, as if he hadn’t spent anything at all.

Above the battlefield, Nathaniel hovers untouched.

Bit by bit, color seeps back into the air, painting over the black and white world. Yet it feels fragile, as if it could vanish the moment he wills it.