Chapter 1752 – Vs Macuil 1 – The One, the Many
Rave and Moira clashed with the second Macuil that had taken the field. The stone that covered his limbs gave away that he was either the same body or at least the same vomited Faith that the Grim Reaper had initially fought. Through Metra’s eyes, he saw that her opponent was covered in vein-like roots that nourished flowers that blossomed from the skin.
Here and there, the initial clash went the same.
Macuil laughed and met the attackers head-on. Moving rapidly, his fists made it past defences, outpacing even the speed at which Moira moved her shield, and slammed straight into them. Rave and Metra flew back; the paladin managed to stand her ground. In the sky clash, Ehtra swiftly intervened.
Everyone else caught up to the battlefield as swiftly as possible. “TIME TO MAKE UP FOR SOME DIFFERENCES!” Norahnon blared out of his speakers. The backpack of his mech suit parted, releasing a cloud of small machines which then separated to reach each of the combatants on his side of the field. Once around them, they released a cloud of alchemical mist.
“MAY THE LADY BLESS US WITH VICTORY!” Moira shouted simultaneously, calling down gentle rays of light that seeped into those they touched.
John saw two windows pop up in the corner of his eyes. Combat buffs, neither of them consequential when cast on a single person, but massively influential when distributed among everyone present. ‘We will need every single thing we can get,’ the Gamer thought. ‘Assuming each body causes a 10% drop in overall strength, that would mean that every one of the five is still the equivalent of level 850.’
“I promise I will keep up!” Claire declared. In her hands, the vampire maid held a sword made with her Manifest Weapon Skill. Usually she preferred spears, but she was not notably skilled with any armament – the presence of Aclysia changed that.
“You are part of Master’s maid cadre, your capabilities are beyond question,” the head maid answered, holding Marice at the ready. The prismatic spine of the double-edged, enormous claymore glowed. Black Ice and white frost crept up the grey blade, giving it a monochromatic beauty.
Beatrice ran next to the two of them, quiet and concentrated. Green eyes darted from one wall to the next. The labyrinth of arena structures around them offered plenty of opportunities for an ambush, especially for a god that had put it all together.
“I admit, you easterners have a sense of style – ah, sorry, you style yourself westerners,” Macuil announced his third presence. That body of his was wreathed in noxious clouds, surrounding him like a floating scarf.
‘Engage,’ John ordered.
The three maids went into motion instantly, loyalty to him engrained so deeply in them that his suggestions did not need to be thought about, only perceived. Beatrice took point, turning into a streak of lightning thrusting a spear. Claire was behind her, turned into a swarm of bats. Wingless, Aclysia was the end of their formation.
John would have kept his eyes closely on that engagement, had the wall next to him not suddenly broken. Through the gap came the fourth body of Macuil on this field, the form of the averagely sized, toned humanoid constantly dripping purple water.
‘So that’s the rain god body then,’ the Gamer reckoned.
Macuil thrust both arms forwards and unleashed a spray of plagued water. Having anticipated the trap, John managed to teleport away before the attack connected with him. Nia, the Illuminati and Momo, the last members of this group that had still been running, had fallen far enough behind him to not get hit.
John had told them to. So far, everything was moving along the predicted scenario. ‘And if I got him right, then he will not be able to keep from boasting. Not like he loses anything if we waste time talking.’
“Not bad, not bad,” Macuil shouted and rolled his shoulders. “Impressive, even.”
“Is it impressive that we found Remus’ old workshop too?” Norahnon asked.
“We did what?!” Momo shouted and looked around. “Where? Give me that location right now!”
Macuil laughed and clapped at them. “See, this is why I never work with others! Everyone who went with your allies to the island in my private ocean should be… Oh?” The god of gluttony noticed that something had gone wrong and tilted his head. “I know I am not a schemer, but I am not stupid enough to forget what I was saying mid-sentence… what was I talking about?”
‘All of that Charisma investing actually paid off,’ Momo smugly declared via mental connection.
‘That’s one worry less,’ the Gamer agreed.
The location of Remus’ workshop had become a Stolen Secret, bound into Momo’s new staff. Macuil would not remember it until Momo gave it back or the Witch Blade was shattered. That meant the god would not go and attack the other party with any one of his bodies. It had been worrying enough that John had left them with the elementals for protection.
With the worry removed, there was no need to keep it that way.
“Ah, well, fairy shenanigans,” Macuil waved off nonchalantly. “Time to die!”
One moment the one fifth part of the god was launching himself at John, the next he was surrounded on all sides by the six elementals. Smirking, John teleported back twice with Magus Step, leaving the ensuing combat to his familiars. Momo went up into the sky. Nia continued to cover the Illuminati with her presence, who deliberately moved off to the side.
John found himself tugged away in the corner of a hallway, looking out through Momo’s eyes, through the Ego Blades, and the eyes of his present familiars. He saw Rave and Moira valiantly struggle; Ehtra and Metra overcome their selfish fighting styles to present a joined front; Aclysia, Beatrice and Claire weave together as if the god was just another stain they had to remove together; and the elementals all come together yet again, even if they lacked the energy to repeat that Babel Phrase.
Each individual fight was a rapid exchange of cataclysmic blows worthy of a legend. Every second was a clash between fighters that had pierced into the very top of the superhuman realm and a god who had devoured his way into absolute power. Even the slightest of spells etched scars into the divine stones of the landscape.
A part of John lamented that he was not out there, enjoying the thrill of base violence.
The rest of him was coming together in a broad smirk, as he leaned against the wall. ‘Ready, Momo?’ he asked the fairy.
‘Everyone is waiting for you,’ she sassed back.
Information flowed rapidly between the Gamer, the fairy maid, and her network of hivemind bodies. All of the cataclysmic spells and devastating attacks thrown around were turned into mere environmental effects. Between their erudite minds, the Sanctum was turned into a three dimensional map. The fog of war was lifted by the churning work of their combined intellect, everything placed in a grid system, and everyone on the battlefield turned from a person to a unit.
All of that took them no more than five seconds.
‘I do my best work on the macro scale,’ John thought. ‘Let’s see what loose parts we have…’
Divide and conquer was one of the most fundamental axioms that had ever been conceived. It applied in every theatre where a strategic approach was possible. The building of houses was separated into individual segments, so they could be tackled one after another. Running a nation came down breaking the people up into interest groups and appealing to or ostracizing them. Winning a war was about using the resources at disposal most effectively, knocking out isolated instances of the enemy until victory was absolute.
Macuil had done him the favour of spreading himself out into handleable instances.
‘Metra, fall back to these coordinates,’ John ordered. ‘Salamander, use your Unleash to create an exploding spear and have Gnome throw it North-North-East. Stirwin, Undine, pressure Macuil 4 ‘
Metra landed and jumped back. Macuil 1 moved after her, leaving a trail of deadly pollen. “What’s wrong, suddenly so cowardly?”
Undine and Stirwin went on a rabid offensive. The sudden change in pace threw the god off his pace. Instinctively, he dodged backwards – right into the firing line of Gnome. The season elemental held a spear of crackling, destructive energy. For all that it was worth, it was a diminished replica of the spear that the father of Salamander had made, the spear that had wiped off the centre of Moscow during the 5 Days War.
The Strength of Gnome was translated into speed by the hurling motion. Macuil 4 spread his vulture wings, beating them to get out of the way. He laughed triumphantly. The sound stopped near instantly.
The spear zapped across the battlefield, punching through the walls that separated the various duelling arenas, before finally breaking out right next to the head of Macuil 1. In the middle of the motion of chasing Metra, the flower-skinned body had no chance to dodge whatsoever. The spear slammed into the side of his head, tearing flower petals, then exploded with the force of an impacting meteorite.
‘Alright, plan 4 went through, let’s see how plan 2 is going.’ John turned his attention elsewhere on the battlefield.
Rave and Moira were fighting together almost as well as Rave did with any of the haremettes. Their repeated sparring over their competitive history showed in an intimacy with the other’s moves that Macuil kept up with only because of his superior Stats. Attacks of the god of gluttony managed to move around the shield, but never quite managed to secure a devastating hit on the Shield Warden or the feline Lightbearer that kept on dancing in and out of her protective zone.
‘Movement is within the predicted zone, impact in 3, 2, 1…’
Macuil 2 was about to throw another plague rock when Skyfall slammed down on him. The explosion of silver arcane scattered in every direction, making dust fly and causing a veil of lingering energy to hang in the air. All of the destructive power washed over Rave and Moira without effect, even the Order was part of John’s Federation after all.
‘Mhm, this will create an opportunity for Macuil 3 – that should advance plan 7,’ Momo commented.
‘Indeed,’ John agreed.
Aclysia, Beatrice and Claire were constantly attacking the cloud-wreathed Macuil. The god of gluttony was trying to move away from the glacial presence of the head maid. Whenever he did, he found himself flanked by Beatrice or blocked by a wall of familiars.
“You are really good at this!” Macuil complimented and extended a hand to the side. The god of clouds that had been devoured had control over more than just those in the skies.
The scattered dust obeyed the magical pull, swiftly blowing over where the three maids were fighting, covering them all in fine dirt. Particles of disease in the cloud may have been incapable of affecting the Artificial Spirits, but the magic of the god itself could still work on them. The particles in the air became constricting coffins around all of them.
Aclysia activated Master’s Shield.
Sylph came down like a thunderbolt.
Macuil twisted around, his first instinct to meet the suddenly intervening volt bunny with another attack. An instinct made hesitant by the taunt effect that applied to him. That split second of uncertainty was all that was needed for Sylph to unload all the speed that she had picked up into the body of Macuil 3. Lightning and wind melted and scattered dust.
Freed, the three maids moved to join the battle again. Before they could, the god of gluttony gathered magic and unleashed it as another cloud. When Beatrice’s spear thrust at where he had been, she caught only air.
“Well, I know when I can’t win,” Macuil spoke magnanimously across the other three of his bodies. “We can pick this up at my place.”
‘Press the advantage!’ John ordered. It was the only one of his demands that those fighting could not meet. Bringing to bear his magic and what control over the Sanctum he could leverage, Macuil placed between them massive barriers of rock, bramble, and rain. No one could cut through fast enough to give chase to the god of gluttony.
From her elevated and scattered positions, Momo could follow the avatars consolidating into one and then retreating into the distant temple.
“That was the easy part,” John muttered.