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Chapter 16: Immortal
THE tides were turned in an instant. Everything changed when Takuto Ira, the king everyone thought was dead, muttered those two key words: Appeal Outcome. Only a few people reacted fast enough. It was a miracle they were even able to react at all.
Various elements intricately intertwined at that moment, resulting in the scales of battle leaning imperceptibly in one side’s favor: Erakino’s.
“MASTER!!” she shrieked, and her master threw down his verdict from his hiding place.
GM: Message
Exercising Game Master Authority.
Е_ń u ṁ a .і̌ d
Outcome rejected.
Sludge Witch Atou’s Brainwash status remains in effect.
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Silence hung thick in the air, only broken by the sound of heavy panting.
“Haaa…haa…haa!!” Erakino gasped for air, her eyes bulging from fear and shock, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. Her heart pounded louder than a drum, her legs and hands trembled uncontrollably. “Shit! Haa, haaa…! You piece of shit!!!”
All her playfulness went out the window as she bristled with rage and frustration. How could she remain aloof when one of Atou’s tentacles had stopped a quarter inch from her skull? She narrowly survived. If her master had been a second slower, her brains would’ve been splattered all over the floor.
Mental fatigue washed over her like a tidal wave. She felt as physically drained as if she’d just run for her life.
Е ṅŭm̊а̌
Fine, I’ll admit I underestimated them. I did let down my guard, thinking we’d already won. But I didn’t think for a second that they’d use our own system against us!!
“…Dammit!” she cursed, fuming. “How dare you skip the dice’s outcome to lift Brainwash based on trust levels!!”
“Erakino!” Fenne called after her.
“A-Are you all right?!” Soalina cried.
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The two Saints rushed to make sure Erakino was okay, their reactions too delayed to have saved her. Erakino was too frantic trying to think her way out of this mess to placate her worried friends. The King of Ruin had used their own gimmick against them when they had absolute confidence in it never being figured out.
Erakino and her friends hadn’t said much since entering Mynoghra’s territory. She couldn’t remember saying anything that would give their abilities away, and she never even taught the two Saints any of the terminology that’d doom them if they slipped up.
W̆.е b̌ n ŏv̄_е̌l È nŭ m̈ӓ
And yet…despite taking every precaution, the King of Ruin had deduced from Erakino’s limited words and actions that her abilities were governed by a tabletop role-playing game’s mechanics and turned the tides of battle completely in his favor with his very first move.
Tabletop role-playing games, called TRPGs for short, are multiplayer games in which each player acts out the role of a single character through a fictional campaign setting. Players act out their role by deciding and describing what actions their characters will take within the rules of the game. Many campaigns use weighted statistics and dice rolls or other random elements to determine the outcome of these actions. Tabletop role-playing games have been around for decades and still have a solid fanbase to this day.
In most games, a specially designated player—typically called the game master—proceeds over the session, describing the game world and the outcomes of the players’ actions. The Game Master is the storyteller, so they tend to have absolute authority over the setting, outcomes, and story progression.
This was how Erakino and her Game master were able to use his Authority to progress the battle entirely in their favor. However, TRPGs revolve around the players using their words to advance the story, and the outcomes of some actions are determined by the game itself, not just the game master. Determining the outcome usually involves rolling dice and adjusting the result for the character’s statistics and environmental factors to see whether the action was successful. Typically, the higher the character’s score in a particular attribute, the higher their probability of success. In other words, the player also has the ability to appeal an outcome based on their stats and the campaign’s rules.
Takuto Ira did just that—he appealed the system as a player and forced it to adjust the result based on his stats with Atou. Rolling the dice and input from the Game Master would typically take place before the outcome, but the Trust levels between the King of Ruin and his Witch were so high, they negated the need to roll.
The rules for this particular campaign stated that a player must roll a 98 or higher to remove Brainwash status with dice that only go from 1 to 100. But Takuto’s appeal made the system take his and Atou’s Trust into consideration. It divided their Trust value by 2 and added 200 to his roll. Having 200 added to his roll meant he would exceed 98 no matter what and succeed. He won by using Variable Values.
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Takuto had figured out he was up against someone from a TRPG just by hearing Erakino talk about dice. Then, based on his experiences testing the limits of Eternal Nations’ system, he speculated that the Game Master’s rendering of the outcomes worked within TRPG mechanics and could be appealed.
He used what he knew would be the overwhelmingly Fixed Values between him and Atou to undo the Brainwashed status and return her to his side. And he didn’t need to tell a liberated Atou anything for her to immediately unleash a deadly attack to kill Erakino on the spot.
Even on the verge of death, Takuto launched an all-or-nothing counterattack aimed right at the Northern Witch’s cranium.
Game masters can only see and influence the world through their characters. While game masters typically know everything about the campaign they are enacting, that didn’t apply when the larger world wasn’t created or selected by Erakino’s Game Master. In other words, losing Erakino meant losing his ability to meddle with Mynoghra. Their attack would’ve ended in failure and given Mynoghra time to come up with countermeasures.
But fate was on Erakino and her Game Master’s side.
In that split second, they realized Atou’s status change and succeeded in narrowly rejecting the outcome. Thus, Atou’s tentacle stopped a quarter inch from Erakino’s forehead, snapping Slurping Witch Erakino out of her revelry and causing her heart to race—not with glee over being the winner, but for coming dangerously close to death.
Еň üm̂а̄_
Erakino chewed her lip as she processed all that had happened during that few-second exchange. Rage colored her features as she audibly ground her teeth. She didn’t know to what extent the enemy had discovered their secrets. She couldn’t tell how much the King of Ruin knew. Maybe it was just a coincidence? Or maybe he exploited her greatest weakness, knowing full well what he was doing.
“Master! What should I do?! Tell me! Direct me, Game Master!!” she cried out to him telepathically.
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The Game Master did not respond. Did the sudden turn of events rattle him? Or was he just thinking up their next plan? Either way, Erakino thought giving their opponent time was a bad idea.
She glanced down at the entity that made her blood run cold—the King of Ruin. Was he dead? Was he alive? Was he a zombie? She couldn’t tell anymore. Her pale face was reflected in his lifeless eyes. She couldn’t shake the feeling that endless darkness beyond her comprehension flickered within those nebulous eyes.
“Haaa…! Haa…!” she panted some more. “A-Ahahaha! T-Too b-bad, s-so sad! Th-Thought you got us there, didn’t’ja? Your counterattack ended in big fat failure~♪! Poor, poor baby~♪! Ahahahaa! …Haa…haa!!” Erakino retreated a step as she squeezed out dry laughter between her gasps for air. She only just realized she was trembling from fear. “Just die already, you piece of shit!!!!”
“Your Majesty!!!”
Е̂ nûm ӓ
She resorted to violence, pure and simple, to vent her anger. Erakino hadn’t once taken direct action before now, but she ran up and kicked Takuto, lying in that pool of blood, with all her strength to release the storm of emotions brewing within her. There was a loud crash as the king’s body, worshipped by the Dark Elves and darkness itself, went flying and crashed into the nearby stage created for the festival. The shattered wood frame came crumbling down on top of Takuto as if to stop the blood from gushing out of his chest.
“Erakino, calm down,” Fenne instructed. “Losing your head here will only bring about more problems. What is your Master telling you?”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!! What the hell!!! He’s not responding! Master! Master! What should I do?!” Erakino screamed hysterically, stamping her feet on the floor like a child.
Veiled Saint Fenne watched her tantrum with cold eyes. Meanwhile, Saint Soalina of Blooming Burials sidled close to her friend to show her support and raised her Holy Staff.
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“It will be all right, Erakino. I was also taken by surprise by that attack. But I shall put an end to it all now… I entomb ye now in a blooming burial!”
With that brief incantation, a pillar of hellfire that reached the heavens engulfed the stage where Takuto’s body was pinned. The pillar of hellfire swelled up like a spiraling tornado, spreading a torrent of hot air through the area and turning everything within its reach into ash.
Еn um̀ а̀ .і́ ď
“Y-Your Majesty! Someone stop that fire! Stop it!” Elder Moltar shouted.
“W-We can’t! The force of the flames is too strong! You can’t get close to it, Elder Moltar!”
The Dark Elves cried out in sorrow but were powerless before the Saint’s purging flames. Its momentum rejected everything, making it difficult to even approach, let alone touch. Nothing could survive within the tornado of fire. Seeing that for herself, Erakino felt liberated from the confusion and panic overwhelming her. Knowing her friend lent her a hand calmed her more than anything else.
The torrent of flames continued to burn even after Saint Soalina ceased using her Miracle Artes. Looking at those crackling flames, Erakino was convinced that the battle was finally over.
“Erakino, the rest of his monsters are coming. We should retreat,” Fenne recommended.
Erakino hesitated. The creatures that served the King of Ruin were not their target. While it occurred to her that it’d be better to eradicate them all before they could become a problem in the future, it was too risky to stick around for long when they didn’t know how many or what kind of forces remained. There was also the potential mind control and other actions would fail without the Game Master to adjust the roll. Erakino didn’t enjoy wasting time picking off every last small fry, so it was time to leave.
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Besides, they had achieved both their objectives. After almost botching their success once already, they were better off leaving while they were still ahead. They still had much to do to create their ideal country—they didn’t have time to waste on cleanup.
“…We good here, Soali?” Erakino asked.
“…Yes, we are. Evil has been vanquished. Nothing is alive within those flames.”
“You agree, Fenny?”
“Yes, I do. Nothing is alive within that pillar of fire. I can say with certainty that the King of Ruin has been purged by those holy flames.”
Both Saints agreed. There was no room for doubt if their superhuman senses confirmed the King of Ruin’s annihilation. And after much delay, Erakino finally received word from her master. At long last, she was able to act like herself again.
Еń.ūm̈ a . і̆d̊
“Okay~♪! Master contacted me too. Sounds like we’re done here, girls! I’d hate to turn into a pumpkin, so we’d better get home before the clock strikes midnight, ehe~♪! With that, I bid you ado, Mynoghrans! Slurping Witch Erakino is checking out, baby~♪!”
Erakino and friends roll to escape—
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GM: Message
Exercising Game Master Authority.
Outcome is a success regardless of roll.
Outcome: Erakino, Soalina, Fenne, and Atou succeed in escaping.
Ên̂ ū m̂ӑ.. і̊d
And just like that…Erakino and co’s invasion ended in success due to mechanics unknown to everyone they left behind. Theirs was a sorcery that ignored all logic and the rules of nature to bring about the outcomes they wanted. The Dark Elves could only watch in horror as things drew to their inevitable conclusion.
◇◇◇
A chilly lull settled over Dragontan in the wake of those tumultuous events.
“Aaah…it’s over…all over…”
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An elderly man stricken by grief stood alone in the town square dyed red by the setting sun. He was a man with a long history of achievements that earned him the title the Cursed Sage and who now stood as the last remaining pillar holding up Mynoghra’s government.
“It’s finished…we’re all finished…”
Ẁ e b n̂о v ѐ l Е num̄ а
He’d lost any trace of the vigor that kept him looking younger than his age as the oldest living Dark Elf, now reduced to a tottering old man about to crumble and wither away for good. His tears had completely dried up and no wise words or ingenious schemes came to mind. He fell to his knees, clinging to what was lost, stunned by how old and useless he’d truly become. He’d knelt in the exact spot where the holy flames had reduced everything to ash, including their king.
“Why did you leave us behind, Your Majesty?” he lamented. “Why didn’t you take us with you…?”
It was a miracle he was even able to give orders and command others in his state. He had the town square cordoned off and the townspeople ordered to return home until further notice. Their state guests from Phon’kaven were confined to a single room assigned to them within Town Hall, making it evident Mynoghra was in no position to cater to their allies.
Strict gag orders were imposed on everyone who knew about the death of the King of Ruin and Hero Atou’s Brainwashed state. No one uttered a peep about it. No one even fanned the flames of gossip.
The Dark Elves and Mynoghra’s creatures were in turmoil due to the loss of their leader—they couldn’t take satisfactory military action. It was all Elder Moltar could do just to get the situation under control and put their people on alert. He couldn’t even fathom what to do next or what they should be doing now.
“Please guide us, Your Majesty…”
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They had lost the ruler who made those decisions for them.
The divine flames unleashed by one of the intruders, a woman he believed to be a Saint, had to have been a Miracle Arte granted by a holy god. Not even the King of Ruin could’ve survived that pillar of hellfire that consumed all within its reach. Was he even alive before those flames touched him? He’d had his heart pierced straight through.
Even the most powerful, inexplicable beings die when death comes for them.
It was unclear whether death in the truest sense existed for a being like the King of Ruin, but Elder Moltar hadn’t fallen so low as to hold on to the impossible hope that Takuto Ira would come out of that unscathed.
“I need to find His Majesty’s remains…”
Elder Moltar rose on unsteady feet and staggered closer to the spot where his king was incinerated. The wood had completely carbonized, and the piles of debris on top of Takuto had been reduced to ashes. Perhaps it was a part of the Saint’s powers, but flowers bloomed profusely in the burn site after the flames went out, as if they were left as an offering to the deceased, further unsettling Elder Moltar.
W eb ńоṽ е̇_l Enǔm а̄
The man feared throughout the lands as the Cursed Sage sifted through the still-warm mountain of ashes and flowers, looking more like a vagabond than a wiseman. Truth be told, Mynoghra had already conducted a search for the king’s remains. But the devastation was too great, and the sun was beginning to set, making it impossible to find anything.
Everyone who saw what was left of the spot where the king had been engulfed in flame lost all hope of finding him alive. They believed the Saint’s hellfire had burned his corpse to nothing, consuming even the ashes. The Dark Elves had already drawn that embittered conclusion. Elder Moltar’s actions were nothing more than an old man clinging to what had been lost—penance for failing to save his king.
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“…No. This doesn’t make sense…” Elder Moltar muttered under his breath after combing through the ash heap for a while. The light of lost wisdom gleamed in his tired eyes as he frantically rummaged through the debris in search of something. “It’s not here! Nor here! Or here! It’s nowhere…!”
He threw aside whatever he could get his hands on, leaving no rock unturned, his nails turning black with soot. He flung aside the torch he was carrying because it was dark out and scavenged in the dirt like a madman.
“Why? How? Impossible! There’s nothing left of the king! Nothing!”
He could find logical reasons to explain why the King of Ruin’s corpse had disappeared without a trace. It wasn’t unreasonable to assume the king’s fleshly body had been purged and reduced to nothing by the hellfire. Besides, they were talking about a transcendental entity known as the King of Ruin, who came from the Land of the Gods. It was entirely possible he wasn’t made of blood and flesh like mortals. His death could come in the form of vanishing like a vapor in the wind.
Е n̄ǔ mа̃.іd̆
But there was one strange factor that couldn’t be so easily explained away. Every single piece of clothing and accessory Takuto Ira wore was made and gifted to him by the Dark Elves. Elder Moltar knew pieces of those items were made of metal, so it was strange that there wasn’t even a trace among the rubble and ashes.
Elder Moltar frenetically dug up the spot he believed Takuto had been buried and burned. The search already conducted by over a hundred Dark Elves didn’t turn up anything—not even a speck of gold. Still, Elder Moltar continued to dig around, as if digging for the answers to the questions arising within him.
“His Majesty…is alive.”
What reason led him to that conclusion? If he’d stopped to calmly think about it, he would’ve realized how illogical he was being. It was quite conceivable they simply overlooked Takuto’s charred items amid all the wreckage. Even more likely, the Saint’s flames were so hot that even metal was reduced to nothingness. That would actually be the most accurate conclusion. They’d be better served to resume the search once the sun rose rather than in the dead of night with no light.
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“His Majesty is alive! Alive, I say!”
Those were the shouts of a man who’d lost his mind. Elder Moltar was sinking into insanity. It was a pathetic end to an elderly sage who’d lost his ability to face reality.
Еn̂ū mӓ
“It’s true! His Majesty shan’t be beaten so easily! Not the King of Ruin we worship! Not the one who is destined to bring the end to this world! The apocalypse-bringer is above death!!”
Such was the senile babblings of an old man. No one believed him, they only thought he’d gone delusional. His was a wish for the impossible that lacked all sense and any grounds in reality.
Takuto Ira had been annihilated. Everyone who’d witnessed the tragedy that day could come to no other conclusion.
However…
“His Majesty…our king…King Takuto Ira is absolutely alive—”
A hand suddenly rested on Elder Moltar’s shoulder.
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“Correct you are, sage,” the King of Ruin whispered in a penetratingly cold voice that seemed to reach in and caress the hearts of its listeners in an icy embrace.
“O-Oh-Oooooooooooooooooh!” Elder Moltar spun around faster than any elderly man could and laid his eyes upon that chilling figure.
No dream or illusion could reproduce his wicked aura. There stood his king, the king they all believed in, completely unscathed. Calling it a miracle would be too weak. This was the one and only ending Elder Moltar knew would come to pass.
“O mighty King of Ruin, Takuto Ira!!”
“Lovely night, isn’t it, Elder Moltar?”
Elder Moltar’s mind and body reacted as one, and he prostrated before his king. With tears pouring down his sooty face, he rejoiced over Takuto’s safe return.
Е̄ñ u̇ m а . ї d̈
Mynoghra and the King of Ruin Takuto Ira were immortal yet.
“Indeed! Indeed! Made all the lovelier now that my undying wish has come true!” Elder Moltar bellowed much louder than intended, stirred by the powerful emotions of relief, shock, and exhilaration.
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Takuto offered him a wry smile and held a finger to his lips to shush him.
The king was alive and well. Even after having his heart pierced and then being engulfed in hellfire, he yet lived.
Everyone was filled with despair and could think of nothing other than his death when they saw him struck through and consumed by fire. And yet here he stood, looking as if he hadn’t sustained any damage whatsoever. He was uninjured.
What divine magics brought about this miracle? Speculation was pointless. After all, it was impossible for a measly elderly Dark Elf sage to comprehend the depths of his king’s inscrutable powers.
Ẁ е_b̃ ǹ ŏ v̂е́ l Е n.ú mâ
It was already past midnight. Darkness loomed, and a few meager watch fires dimly illuminated the area. Silence reigned as though the whole town was in mourning over the chaos and tragedy of the daytime hour.
Elder Moltar knelt in silence, awaiting his king’s orders. His role was to act as the hands and feet of the one who would take control of everything—Takuto Ira. They were about to embark on an epic quest for revenge. As one of the key figures in the epic about to unfold, Elder Moltar was determined to bring down the hammer of wrath on those foolish invaders.
Elder Moltar lifted his gaze to look upon his king. Darkness so deep it had to have come from another realm paused to think with a very mortal gesture.
“I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me,” the King of Ruin, nay, Takuto Ira, muttered to himself. The embodiment of the end of times loomed there in silence, plotting its next move—its vengeance would be most divine.
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