The Mandate of Khaos: The Mountains Come to Mohamed (ch. 21)

A/N: Posting earlier because of my appointment to remove my upper wisdom teeth. Wish me luck. It shouldn't affect the posting schedule unless something goes horribly wrong though.

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…shit.

My shoulders heaved, ribs burning with each ragged gasp. Sweat and a few drops of blood stung my eyes, as I tried to focus them on the figure before me. I held Virgo in reserve, waiting for the perfect opening. Yet, it never came. Whenever I seemed about to gain the upper hand, Suguru would pull some new power or summoned monster out of his ass, neatly countering whatever I was planning.

How—how is someone supposed to beat something like that?

"You aren't," Suguru answered my unspoken question. He adjusted his sleeve, untouched, unbothered. “Really, kid, there's a limit to arrogance, you know? The Four Champions were created to act as a counterweight to the Four Satans. If I could be defeated by an untrained whelp like you, I might as well commit seppuku right here.”

The Four Satans… “Bullshit,” I muttered, spitting the word out.

"You don't believe I am—what is it those parasites call it, Satan-Class? Did I go that soft on you?" Suguru asked, his mouth twisting as if the mere act of comparing himself to the beings he seemed to despise so much physically pained him.

Satan-class… that would mean I never really stood a chance, wouldn't it? Not the slightest. Still—"You can't defeat Sirzechs or Ajuka."

Super Devils were far above Satan-Class. Far above anything measurable in Classes.

The first flicker of true emotion seemed to course through Suguru Geto's face. Contempt, annoyance, disgust. Pure, visceral disgust. "The Super Devils… their existence is utterly deplorable." He sighed, as if resigned. "Lying to you, or myself, would be of no use, however. No, we cannot beat them. Not yet."

Yes, of course they couldn't. So why—why was he smirking?

"However," and I had never hated that word more, "we do not need to beat them to win. Ingenuity, ingenuity is what has taken humanity this far. Gods are the ones who swing their cocks around and scream and blather about biggatons. We’re humans, we fell giants with a stone to the temple, and outwit Gods by using their pride against themselves."

Impact. A body slammed into the ground a few feet away from me, and I saw it was Sakura. Immediately, my guard dropped. If Suguru had wanted, he could have ended me right then and there, knowing I was far too distracted to react. Still, it wasn't as if he couldn't have done so before, if his claims about being Satan-Class were even remotely close to being true.

"Sakura! Sakura, are you okay?!"

She was breathing, bruised all over, but the respirations were even, and she wasn't bleeding much, not visibly at least.

"Do not… worr-cough—cough—" I shook my head, motioning for her not to speak, but she shook her head in turn, pushing herself upright. "It's all, because of—me, that—"

I shook my head more vehemently. She had only been trying to help me, to ease my mind, to show me love in her own way. There was no way I could blame her for that, not when she was the reason I hadn't broken down until now. When she was the reason I, a normal human by all accounts before arriving in this completely fucked-up universe, had managed to hold onto my sanity instead of devolving into madness and derangement.

"So you think so too, hm?" I could hear Suguru speak behind me, his tone conversational.

"Yeah, girl has got potential," Siegfried added with a shrug, panting slightly but clearly in better shape than Sakura. "Not sure if she'll ever surpass the White one, but with decent training, she could definitely be used to hold him back."

Geto sighed. "We're in agreement then. We'll take them back to base and see what's to be done after I get the other three to weigh in." They approached, and I instinctively interposed my body between Sakura and them. Suguru's hand reached for my face. I steeled myself, preparing for a desperate last-ditch gamble—before I heard a voice.

Never had I felt more grateful for her presence.

"Just like that? Nothing else? No ‘Speak now, or forever hold your peace’?" The voice dripped with theatrical disdain. "Cause let me tell you, boy, this magical girl has a lot on her mind to speak."

His hand stopped, as if encountering an invisible barrier. The two figures stared in disbelief, their expressions twisting in fury.

"Begone." With a dismissive flick of her wrist, she sent the two heroes skidding backwards, until they slammed into the rubble of the destroyed café.

Serafall Leviathan had arrived.

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"Do you think us stupid, Leviathan?" Suguru Geto’s voice was deceptively mild, yet Serafall could feel the barely leashed contempt radiating off him. She called upon the scant information she had on the young man.

A former friend of the Gojo Clan's rising star, before they had a falling out over some unknown matter. He had vanished from the Devils' radar, only to resurface as a key member of the so-called Hero Faction.

If only we'd known, she thought bitterly. If we'd realized the headache these self-styled 'Heroes' would become, we wouldn't have dismissed their arrogance as a joke. Less than half a decade. From unknowns into a household name worldwide in less than half a decade.

If it wasn't for their leader, the Sword Father—that damned self-proclaimed Hero of Justice—

"Is that a rhetorical question, or are you actually expecting an answer?" Serafall mocked, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. She released the subtle control she held on their bodies as her magic reserves dipped to twenty percent.

Now comes the gamble. Because it was true. The Four Champions were all, without exception, Satan Class. They had never directly attacked, a silent agreement based on the tacit threat of retaliation from Sirzechs and Ajuka. They never dared attack, because despite being a group of disproportionately powerful individuals, none of them were Super.

What had changed?

"Always ready with a quip, ready to denigrate, yet, Leviathan, while you seem to not have afforded us the same respect, we have done a great deal of research on you. On your clan." The Champion rolled his shoulders, cracking his joints. "There was only one person who could have done what you just did. To use your innate control over water to hijack our bodies, by controlling something a little darker and a little more… viscous than water."

Serafall frowned. Sanifall Sitri, the progenitor of the Sitri Clan, birthed from Lilith herself. The greatest pride of the Sitri Clan in the olden days—and also their greatest shame in the current age.

"With his unparalleled control of water, he could manipulate his enemies' blood at will, forcing them to kill themselves, explode their hearts, and, in some cases, even puppeteer their bodies. He was, truly, indubitably—"

"Oh, wait," Siegfried interrupted, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "Wasn't that the dude who was pegged by the original Leviathan?"

Suguru’s lips twitched. "In exchange for being the Leviathan's… toy," he ended up settling on, "Sanifall Sitri was granted access to the Satan’s ocean-vast reserves of magical infused water, which he burned through to accomplish all the bullshit he did."

Serafall gritted her teeth, her temper flaring. "Are you going anywhere with this, monkey brain?"

Suguru was unaffected by the insult. "Of course. It is indeed impressive that you managed to accomplish a similar feat, and it shows we may have underestimated you—however," the smile on his face was nothing short of terrifying. "You are not Sanifall Sitri. Katerea Leviathan would sooner slit her own throat than help you. While it is impressive that your natural reserves were enough to create the water necessary to subvert our bodies—they must be running terribly low by now, right?" And you can't replenish it, since all the sources of water have been isolated from this dimension, his expression appeared to be saying. Mocking.

There was only a handful of Sacred Gears that could do something like this. Only a smaller handful that could perform such a feat of dimensional displacement with such accuracy. Dimension Lost then. One legendary swordsman, one Longinus user and one Champion.

Serafall had faced worse odds before.

School your expression. Do not betray a single hint.

The laughter of the artificial human, of the greatest creation to ever emerge from the Sigurd Institute, reverberated through the street. "Time to perish then, Devil! Should've saved your juice for a real fight! You can die regretting your stupidity!" He lunged, sword a blur of silver light aimed at her heart.

That seemed to rouse something in Suguru, a realization—"Siegfried, wait!" It was too late, though.

Serafall raised her hand—and locked Siegfried in place once again. The swordsman only had time to let out a confused 'huh?' before gallons of water erupted from the Super Absorbent Sponge concealed in Serafall's sleeve. It was a tidal wave that invaded through every orifice, every pore, every wound, forcing him to stand slackly, flooding his lungs, his veins, his very cells with crushing, foreign pressure.

"SIEG!" Seemingly genuine panic burst from Suguru Geto, and he lunged forward, but it was late. It was too late. Serafall's control was not as good as Sanifall's, not yet. But with her own water inside the self proclaimed Hero's body, it did not need to be.

"Virgo!" She heard Shinji call behind her.

A pink haired girl in a maid costume materialized in the path between Suguru and Siegfried. The ground gave beneath him, likely fruit of the magic of the spirit, but he summoned an yokai below his feet and used it as a springboard to throw himself over the summoned creature. He did not know its abilities, and so he acted cautiously, as had been ingrained in him by years of habit.

Such had been his undoing. Had he simply charged forward, he would have been able to easily break through what Serafall would soon learn was called a 'Celestial Spirit' and reach Siegfried. Alas, he hesitated, and as Virgo's chains wrapped around his airborne legs, and he noticed how truly weak the spirit was in comparison to himself—

Serafall clenched her fist.

Inside Siegfried, the water obeyed. It compressed.

There was no explosion, no grand display. Just a sickening, wet crunch as the Hero's heart imploded within his chest. His eyes bulged, a choked gasp escaping his water-filled throat before he collapsed, lifeless.

The Sponge had been drained of a significant amount of its contents—Serafall didn't have enough time to actually fill all of it yet—so she wouldn't be able to pull off the same trick twice. Not to mention that it would be far harder to do so with Suguru Geto (who had already retreated after grabbing one of Siegfried's swords) as the amount of magical energy needed to control an opponent increased exponentially with their power.

"Hey, I still owe you people one for that time you dumped the guts of the devils the Old Satan Faction sent towards your faction seeking an alliance right onto Katerea and the other nepo-babies' heads. So, how about we call it quits here and let bygones be bygones, hm?" It had been a hilarious moment, that it had.

Really, what had the Old Satan Faction been thinking? As if a Faction of Heroes would ally themselves with Devils worse than the New Satan Faction.

Still, judging by the murderous, hateful look Yokai-boy shot her, he would sooner die.

Serafall sighed despondently. The true battle would begin now—

Or so she believed, before feeling a blade impale her through the chest.

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Feat: Play a minor role in the defeat of Siegfried the Hero

Reward: One Gold Ability Ticket

[Void Dragon's Breath]

|Elite Ability|

Allows you to charge and unleash a breath attack of erosive and destructive void energy that exhausts the energy of whatever it touches. The longer you charge for and the more energy you use the stronger the breath is.

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"This was not the plan, Suguru." The voice was soft, yet carried with it an undertone of unmistakable authority. Homely. Safe. Heroic. It was the kind of voice you wanted to hear behind you when being faced with a gang of muggers in a dark alley. The voice you wanted to hear absolve you of your sins on the other side of the confessional. A voice that inspired unwavering hope.

Alas, all I could feel was a bone-deep, paralyzing terror.

The man was young. He couldn't have been much older than me, barely legal if I had to bet. Short, sun-kissed orange hair framed a face that might have been handsome had it not been the—don't look. His skin was clear and unblemished. He was dressed in a traditional priest’s cassock, a silver cross dangling from his neck.

His face was—half of his face was—do not look.

Around him, swords danced in the air. Long swords, short swords, thin swords, bulky swords, swords of all shapes, sizes, hues and styles seemed to bloom and wither like metallic flowers with each step he took.

"Arthur was the one meant to engage them, was he not? A week or two from now, if memory serves right." The priest sighed, almost wistful. "Heaven knows that man could convert a boulder into a devout believer over an afternoon talk."

Suguru nodded, grudgingly. "Siegfried wanted to check them out, so I told him to bring that sword you created that lets its holder play-battle with anyone in a one-hundred-meter radius without their knowledge—and then it exploded. To let someone with powers that would give origin to such a reaction run around on the Devils' side, even if for just another week or two...”

"Hoh," the priest’s eyes swept over my fallen form, a glint of amusement in his gaze. "It couldn't have been the girl… him, then? An ability that lets him sense danger and prevent it? The sword itself was a failure, as it cannot force the results of the play-battle onto reality like I wished, but it did have the peculiar side effect of triggering abilities that are activated when the user is in danger, as if he really was in said danger." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, seemingly speaking more to himself than to anyone else. "Still, for it to explode in such a way… it couldn't have been merely prescience. To need so much energy to calculate all the possibilities to the point of causing such a catastrophic malfunction… it would likely have to be the reverse. Or perhaps something akin to localized reality manipulation…?"

I ignored them. My energy was running low, a dying ember. But I could do it. I had to do it.

It was not fair.

Serafall—she could not die like this. Not here. Not yet. Not like this.

She coughed—a wet, guttural sound. Black veins spiderwebbed from the wound in her chest, flesh visibly rotting. The sword was poisoned? "Sona-tan…" she rasped, her voice barely a whisper. "You must tell Sona-tan—tell Sona-tan," she coughed again, spitting out an ugly glob of dark, bubbling blood.

"Tell Sona-tan that I love her—more than anything else, sister always loved—" she couldn't finish her sentence, wracking coughs tearing through her frame.

I crawled forward, driven by a desperate, primal need. With every last shred of my remaining energy, I crawled forward. Under the amused gaze and subtle, oppressive pressure emitted by the Sword Father, I crawled forward.

"She is surviving for longer than expected," the priest mused, his tone clinical. "Does she possess an external reserve of water or something? Either way," his face contorted in disgust, "it is disgusting to see such decadent criminals play house so carelessly. Did you perhaps think that your past crimes would be erased simply because a few centuries have passed, devil?"

Another sword flew, this time arcing directly towards Serafall’s head.

Too far, I'm still too far. I won't reach her in time.

Had I been calmer, I would not have been so terrified. Foresight was still active in my left eye. It wasn't activating. And there was no doubt in my mind that Serafall Leviathan dying would be a catastrophic future.

That could mean only one thing.

The air grew remarkably colder. So cold I could see my breath fogging before me.

The flying sword shattered into a thousand little pieces.

"You must be Sir Shinji." A pragmatic no nonsense womanly voice spoke above me, her hands raising me from the ground before I even answered anything. "What do you need?"

I didn't bother looking up. Didn’t waste a single precious second.

"Closer."

The Strongest Queen complied without hesitation. She lifted me as if I weighed nothing, placing me gently but firmly directly behind Serafall. My outstretched hand brushed against the Ultimate Devil’s back—

And I activated Hindsight.

I blacked out immediately after, but there was nothing to worry about, as I would come to learn.

After all, where the Strongest Queen walks—the Strongest King is not far behind.