Chapter 1649 (1/2)

Following the shattering of the black spikes, the three portions of the battlefield all started accelerating. The Nether King and the Speculum erupted in a series of soul-punishing collisions as the lack of Nether pressure allowed the image users to gain back some momentum. With the cane staving off the horned gauntlets, Speculum Double Hammer could occasionally generate two pinpricks of light and summon his overwhelming hammers. As their golden lion handles glimmered, those hammers smashed against the Nether King and forced him to defend. The impacts destabilized space briefly and unleashed shockwaves across the crater that briefly suppressed everything else.

Of course, the Nether King had proven previously that it was up to the task of defending against those hammer blows. But in the brief moment of strained spatial destruction, Speculum Double Hammer stepped forward and started aiming targeted blows at the Nether King’s floating torso.

On a second section of the battlefield, the Sable Rabbit slaughtered the weaker members of Military High Command with its spray of void energy. Luckily, more individuals who possessed as much power as the archer of the silver flames stepped out of the quickly dwindling Military High Command camp. These individuals couldn’t withstand a constant spray of seed-sized projectiles, but working together allowed them to slow their losses.

Finally, the Engraving Guild teams scrambled to activate their Nether Rituals, slowing the charge of the turtle humanoid Nether Prince. But with that being’s mastery of Nether, it seemed to just force its way forward as it pursued the cowled man. An enormous lance crashed into the Nether Prince, in the exact spot in its shell where the black spike had pierced through, but its mysterious methods meant that the attack simply bounced harmlessly away.

BOOOOM! BOOOOOM!

DUUN! DUUN! DUUN! DUUN! DUUN! DUUN!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

While the battlefield was currently stalled, the Nexus was paying with the lives of some of its elite troops to stay in the game. The powerful images that flared to life across the battlefield were more than enough to crush DiOrtho, and probably would even threaten the Head Drill Sergeant and Overseer Helen. But before these images, the Nether forces didn’t bother to meet strength with strength. They utilized the inexplicable capabilities of Nether to essentially render their opponents helpless.

Time and time again an arrow wreathed in silver fire or an enormous green shark would rush forward to wound one of the Nether Princes and the attack just… did nothing.

Well, they all avoid clashing directly… The ram demon’s gaze sharpened on the Nether King. Except for him… heh, he’s really just fighting with his body against a Speculum that could hypnotize me with a single movement…?

In DiOrtho’s chest, his Ancient Machine Horror began to stir. He was careful not to look too long at the Speculum’s image, but he still felt… enlightened as he stood and experienced the repeated tempering of this battlefield. The powerful images were shown to be mortal, despite how overwhelming they seemed. Despite how the silver flames, even at this distance, were hot enough that DiOrtho was sweating. Deep within the hidden places of his Soulspace, strange gears began to click and turn.

He had an idea, one not inspired by looking at a Speculum’s image.

The truth was that DiOrtho had never thought too deeply about where his Ancient Machine Horror must have existed. He carefully constructed the details of its body and the religion that worshipped it, but he had never considered why that religion had come into existence. He had never seen the foes the Ancient Machine Horror had to face or the terrible threats that had eventually pushed the religion to extinction.

But standing at the base of this massive crater, feeling the cataclysmic clashes briefly stifling his breath, DiOrtho Vant could see the Path of his image. The version he now possessed was rusted, bloody, and partially decrepit, but that was a result of the crucible it had endured. He wielded the final form without totally understanding the entire narrative arc. Before the sundering, the Ancient Machine Horror had been a transcendent existence-

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Wincing, DiOrtho allowed his focus to return to the fighting at hand. Rather than following his impulses now, he remained disciplined; the effect wouldn’t be as good, but he also didn’t want to miss his chance to absorb the details of this transcendent battlefield. So he marshaled his image around him and promised himself he wouldn’t look away from the action.

Yet as soon as he made that pronouncement, he broke his resolve and turned to look at the people beside them. Because suddenly all of the Pinnacle Seekers around him were very, very still.

The feeling in the air had changed.

The Frost Matriarch bowed her massive head to an individual amongst the group that had suddenly appeared amongst them all. DiOrtho’s skin began to crawl. “Speculum Pence. Thank you for coming to assist us.”

The new figure was portly, with grey skin and two large tusks jutting out of his lower jaw, whose heavy features made him look like a cross between an orc and a walrus. The man’s smile was wide and hungry as he looked at the surrounding Pinnacle Seekers and then turned to the battlefield. “Heh. Lacy, you know I’ll go anywhere to get a pinch of value. And this Nether King… keh, this is worth more than a pinch… You lot stay here, I’ll handle this.”

There was a strange electric current in the air around the man that drew eyes and attention. This, then, was a Speculum at close range; he was positively polarizing. At first, DiOrtho assumed this was a function of what his image was, but soon he realized that it wasn’t the specifics of the image, but just the strength. This Speculum’s existence, at this range, was an almost overwhelming suggestion of what the world should be.

An image began to manifest around the man, but this time DiOrtho was more prepared and looked away until the man had strolled forward past the cool blue icy fortress the Frost Matriarch created. Compared to the other images that DiOrtho had seen, this new Speculum’s image was more low-key. As he walked forward, coins and paper bills and elaborately written promissory bonds and gemstones seemed to flicker in and out of existence around him.

DiOrtho had to blink several times, thinking he had imagined it at first. But the more he watched, the more he understood. This Speculum… possessed an image that was based upon currency and value.

Next to the Frost Matriarch, the Dusk Jackal was practically vibrating with agitation. “Wait… here…?”