Outrage of the Ancients (LitRPG Apocalypse)

This certainly was a weird situation. Even though we had a massive sword of Damocles hanging over our heads in the form of the World Bosses, things were oddly peaceful for now. Almost as if the worst was past …

Although one of the first things Charlemagne had done was announce to the world what and when the danger was coming. It was abundantly clear that, in his mind, the idea of people suddenly deciding that things were over and therefore would most likely start to change things in the middle of a war was one of the worst outcomes possible.

And then … then nothing. Certainly nothing I'd been involved in, beyond being told to "see if I could come up with pertinent information," in anticipation of a meeting that would be held later on.

The information I had was fairly limited, all told.

1. There were no minions or smaller monsters anywhere, or, at least, nowhere there were people with even the faintest hint of modern communications.

2. There were two things out there dangerous enough to register to [Catastrophe Sense].

3. One of them was going to be in Brazil and have something to do with the earth, in twenty days.

4. The other was going to arrive somewhere to the north and be related to air, in forty days.

5. The creatures here were going to have to deal with were related to the literary term "Chaoskampf," which described the primordial battle for control of the universe, between a creator god and some kind of monster.

You know, God vs Leviathan in the older versions of Christian mythology, Ra vs Apothis, Marduk vs Tiamat, etc.

I mean, the general pattern was relatively obvious.

If there were twenty days between each World Boss, as well as between the start of the challenge and the first one, that meant we'd have twenty days to both prepare for the next one and clean up after the previous one, for a total of five, though that would have resulted in the final one appearing in what was technically the next challenge/the next year, which would have put it beyond the "scope" of when the System was supposed to challenge us.

Then again, the fact that the seventh challenge objectively extended beyond the year all this was supposed to take meant that I was now side-eyeing everything the System had said.

Yet also, there was a non-zero chance we only had four World Bosses to look forward to, one for each of the classic Greek Elements of fire, earth, air, and water.

A set of five elements would have been the Chinese image of the world … except that could already be ruled out, just with the information we had. After all, "air" wasn't a part of that particular set of elements, which instead had wood and metal.

So we could assume there were four, especially seeing as if there were five, [Catastrophe Sense] would sound the warning early enough for something to be done about it.

But why were there only four World Bosses, no lesser monsters?

"I'm wondering if some hidden fairness coefficient came into play?" I wondered, then spoke directly to the empty air around me. "System, do you have any accessible metadata?"

Now, I doubted I'd get an answer, but the question wasn't quite as dumb as it sounded. There were a lot of hidden functions that only appeared when you looked for them, though we had no idea how many there were, owing to a complete lack of a tutorial.

The System's standard functions were pretty plug-and-play: do shit, get Levels, grow in power.

Everything beyond that, including actual descriptions of a given Skill, however?

It had to be found. Granted, that particular detail had been found within minutes of everything starting; it had been the lowest of the low-hanging fruit, but there was still plenty more.

For example, just last week, one of the nurses in the infirmary had figured out that you could pull up your "Personal Medical and Health Evaluation" using that, and only that, specific phrasing.

I'd checked mine and, surprise, surprise, it had declared me to be rather stressed. Though it also informed me that at my Level, having a heart attack, stress-induced or otherwise, was about as likely as getting struck by a meteor.

But back to the topic at hand.

Earth-related primordial monster in South America … I knew this one. Or, at least, I thought I did.

It was Cipactli, some kind of primordial crocodile, fish, toad-thing from Aztec mythology that had ruled the primordial ocean, devouring all the creations of the four Tezcatlipocas, the first four "active" gods of the pantheon, until one of these gods, confusingly also called Tezcatlipoca, sacrificed a foot to lure the monster to the surface where the others slaughtered the beast, and formed the land out of its body.

Although … Mexico, where the Aztec empire had been, was quite a bit further north than where the monster was located.

Of course, the Aztecs weren't actually called "Aztecs," they were the Nahua people, and the specific group that had formed the "Aztec" empire had been known as the Mexica, while the term "Aztec" had been coined by Alexander von Humboldt, but that was a whole other thing.

The main point was that, geographically, I'd have expected Cipactli to be further north … but it all fit just a little bit too nicely for me to dismiss the beast as the most likely candidate.

It was the northern air creature that was the real issue.

Off the top of my head, there were precisely two creatures it might be, both from Norse mythology, but neither felt "right."

The first was Hraesvelgr, a Jotun who typically took the form of a giant eagle and was considered the originator of winds and storms. Conceptually "correct," but if he'd ever been in any kind of story that fit the Chaoskampf motif, that story hadn't survived to the present day.

And the second was the eagle said to sit at the top of the world tree Yggdrasil, its wings also causing winds, though these damaged the tree, and its violent actions were incited by Ratatoskr, the squirrel who transported insults back and forth between said eagle and Niddhog, the dragon who gnawed at the tree's roots.

But, as destructive as said eagle was, not even its name was still known, let alone anything else.

I mean, it might be either of those, but it just kinda felt wrong. Either I was missing something, or I simply hadn't heard the story about the monster we were going to have to face.

***

Fionn

There were, in fact, zero new monster spawns from this challenge.

Five thousand years' worth of history turned into monsters thrown in their faces for one hundred and fifty days straight, and then, when they were supposed to be facing primordial beasts … nothing.

He was no stranger to knowing a threat was coming without being able to immediately react to it, but this was the most extreme version of this he'd ever had to deal with.

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"Disappointment" wasn't quite the right description for his current state of emotion, yet there was no word he could think of that adequately described the irritant that was being prepared for the fight of his life, only to find himself bereft of an enemy to fight.

Still, a reprieve should not be wasted; they could take this time to plan, to fight the Earth World Boss that would almost certainly be Cipactli, and the wind monster with the ambiguous identity after that.

And now they were here. In the Untersberg.

Well, he was here, as were Charlemagne and Merlin, while Francis Drake, freshly promoted to full admiral, was attending via an image that floated above a chair next to the planning table. In the meantime, Sundiata and Genghis Khan were attending via a proper, technological, video conference, looming over the others from wall-mounted screens.

For all that the various rulers involved in this might have normally, eventually, wound up clashing simply due to their various territorial ambitions, the issue here was one that had to be dealt with; it was just a question of how.

They were here in the hope that there was an answer that could be found.

"We don't know what the air boss is, but we're relatively sure it's some kind of eagle?" Drake asked. "Grounding it should be our first priority, and I know how."

He let that statement hang for a moment before he explained.

"Using guided weaponry against monsters is difficult, as each target typically has a different weak point, or at least a weak point that looks sufficiently different that the weapons do not register it as such, each requiring a separately programmed targeting solution to adequately strike.

"But since we know it's going to be an eagle, we can prepare the targeting solution ahead of time and take out whatever tendon or muscle is the most vital for flight, according to the boffins."

"You're assuming a storm-creature is incapable of blocking projectiles," Genghis Khan commented. "We should not rely on that working … but we should also prepare it."

"Assuming it cannot actively prevent our storm spells, we may be able to bring it down that way," Fionn threw in.

It would be nice if they could rely on the monster, despite being air-related, being low enough to the ground to be targettable as all previous beasts, irrespective of their elemental association … but trusting in the unspoken rules of a force of nature that had proven its hostile intent was the height of stupidity.

"I believe that this 'Cipactli' is of far greater concern," Sundiata interjected. "It is a near certainty that it will have some measure of control over the ground, rendering most of our forces near- or totally useless."

That was a good point, and a terrifying possibility.

"We need to focus on teaching flight spells, or spells that can enable flight," Charlemagne said. "In addition, I will position all air assets possible nearby to engage as soon as possible."

"Best keep them at a distance," Merlin interjected. "A World Boss' emergence will likely annihilate everything nearby."

"Or you could ensure they are already in the air by that time," Drake threw in. "The logistics centers can be as far back as they need to be, but if they launch before the monster emerges, they may be able to catch it in a vulnerable position."

Absentmindedly, Fionn rested his elbow on the table and surreptitiously stuck his thumb into the corner of his mouth to draw upon the knowledge contained therein, searching for a vast amount of very specific information.

Which planes would those be, what would they be capable of, and how strong a storm could he call down upon the area in question before they became unusable?

And if they could not operate simultaneously in the same area, what was the turnaround time for when they were in need of resupply? Though the even more important question was just what kind of havoc he could wreak in that time?

After that, though, they spent a couple of hours trying to (fruitlessly) figure out how to use Genghis Khan's cavalry when dealing with a monster like what they expected Cipactli to be.

***

Tristan

The one good thing about having the sixth challenge play out the way it seemed to be was that I actually managed to get some time to myself.

True time to myself, when I wasn't on call, when I wasn't waiting for another meeting, when I wasn't … well, when there wasn't stuff draining my patience, my attention, my … my mental "stamina."

Just me, a massive storage room without anything that would be needed before I could fix whatever damage I might do, and sixty-four portals to burn.

Well, fifty. I did need to keep some for emergencies. And the fact that the twelve I was keeping in reserve were more than I'd even had access to for the longest time … er … I suppose you could just call that the consequences of value being relative, or some such logic.

Ultimately, the plan for what to do here was simple: practice my abilities, using the Skills the way I would in an actual fight.

Use [Know the Land] to survey everything in the area of battle, transform into some kind of fast, flying, animal to move through as muhc of the area as possible to maximize my portal potential, and finally, hammer the enemy from every possible side into every identifiable weak point, all the while taking full advantage of the enhanced timing of [Magister's Mind] and the enhanced timing it provided, as well as the various enhancements granted by the massively boosted [Arcane Core].

Once again, I was using the form of a falcon, though this time, I was shooting through the densely packed corridors of the warehouse, kicking off crates to rapidly redirect my momentum rather than slamming face-first into something, allowing me to shoot through the entire cavernous room in a matter of minutes.

Until, eventually, I returned to the entrance, summoning a ball of sparks above one hand, while extending the other outwards, getting ready to unleash the barrage.

Breathe in, breathe out, think this through, get ready, now!

Half a dozen portals opened right in front of the targets I'd decided to use, in this case, just a bunch of random labels, and I launched the sparks through, pausing for a moment to evaluate the resultant mess.

I mean, not all of them had hit … but they'd all gotten close.

So I tried again, with different targets. And again, over and over until I was down to my last twenty portals for the day, and there was very little that hadn't been hit already.

Well, that didn't go terribly. With a wry grin, I cast [Restoration of the Old] to fix the mess I'd made.

Now, how about I practice this with moving targets, perhaps in a more open space?

***

The next day

The crate exploded into splinters next to me, a split-second after I'd managed to throw myself to the side.

"HEY!" I yelled, glaring at Mia, who actually had the gall to whistle innocently while pointedly staring into the air. I'd asked her to help me train when it came to targeting my portals into moving objects.

The big limitation of targeting portals was that they could not emerge inside solid objects, and opening them within moving objects was dicey, to say the least, even if there was technically sufficient space within.

That was because, while the portals were unable to cut with their edges, instead exerting a force that prevented things from slicing themselves apart on the rents in space, they did collapse and break when hit with sufficient force to overwhelm the defense.

But if I were able to learn to open portals into the kaiju-sized insides of a World Boss and launch an attack through them before the walls of the lungs crushed the gateway, that could be a complete and utter game-changer.

I just needed to be able to A. learn to judge where a targetable opening was and B. target it quickly enough. Which was hard, even with all the Skills that helped with all that sort of thing.

Granted, the crates Mia was tossing were a lot smaller than the targets I was likely to have, but practicing against something harder than what you'd actually have to deal with was just a good idea in general.

All that being said, though, her trying to land me in the infirmary wasn't a part of the plan.

I reached into [Diplomatic Pouch] and pulled out the largest water bottle I carried, more like the canister for a water cooler than something actually meant to be used by a single person, then poured it out onto the ground.

Mia smelled the rat the moment the water vanished, rather than loudly splattering across the stone … but it was too late. The other end of the portal was barely fifty centimeters above her head, and even with her speed and reflexes, that wasn't enough time to react.

Looking murderous, she reached down to pick up the next crate.

As much fun as finally getting one over on her might have been, unfortunately, it seemed there'd likely be hell to pay.

Then again, perhaps I should consider the actual danger to simply be a more effective form of training …

***

Three days after that

The portal before me shattered, the fireball I'd tried to hurl into it detonating against the floor only a few meters from me, making me flinch while Mia grimaced and looked concerned … at least until she realized I was fine. Then she stuck out her tongue instead, taking a precautionary step backwards before I decided to pull another prank.

And it wasn't like I hadn't been considering it … but I preferred not to repeat those. Some originality was well and proper.

I summoned two more fireballs, one hovering above each hand, and waited for my sister to throw the next crate.

Mia paused for a second, raising an eyebrow.

"I promise I won't do anything," I said, and she threw the boxes. The first was moving far too quickly for me to be able to open a portal, I liked to think I'd learned to properly judge the speed this time, but the second one was moving in a parabolic arc.

Wait for it, wait for it …

The crate detonated from the inside, blowing apart into a shower of flaming splinters, as I landed a clean strike through the portal for the very first time.

How long had I been at this?

Four-ish days, probably, and I still had a long way to go, but at the end of the day, we were going to be facing something far larger than a mere crate. Hopefully.

And if that was true, I'd be able to do this a hell of a lot more easily in a real-world scenario.

Even so … I'd seen a Continent Boss before, and a World Boss was inevitably going to be exponentially worse.

Normally, having Dietrich present was reassuring; nothing had ever seemed to faze him thus far … yet lately, I'd been avoiding him. Because he wasn't just nervous, but noticeably nervous.