AN: Today's "Patrol Log" (chapter 33) occurs concurrently with this chapter. The "Patrol Log" diverges from her right after "Voyage!"
To Lyger 0: Hmm… now there's a possibility for after "The Colossus Saga" wraps up…
To Armadas: It's less about obliviousness and more about Lila's ability to gaslight Nadine into thinking exactly what she wants her to think. And it's not like she actually allows anyone to call it the "Villains' Ghetto" while Nadine is around! She is very good at deflecting and covering up.
"Remember, all you're doing is looking for the Tarasque; you're not supposed to fight it!"
The Knight stood rigidly at attention, staring straight ahead at Ladybug, his mouth set in a thin line beneath his helmet. In a line to either side of him along one side of the camp's main field were the Lancer, Iron Maiden, Mecha-Man, Hato Gozen, and even Majestia – Valkyrie had volunteered for the mission also, but Ladybug had told her they only needed six for this scouting mission. Privately, the Knight had been relieved to see Valkyrie staying in the camp, rather than returning to face the Tarasque – possibly even alone. He swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest, and tightened his grip on the sword.
Walking down the line, Ladybug eyed the six of them carefully. Stopping at the end of the line, she fixed Majestia with a piercing stare. Majestia smirked back at her. "I'm serious," Ladybug insisted. "We can't afford to lose anyone. It's more important now to find the Tarasque; we can fight it afterward."
Majestia arched an eyebrow at her. "Why are you looking at me?" Ladybug gave her a deadpan look, and she cracked her knuckles. "Fine. But I can't promise I won't give it a good punch for old time's sake!"
Ladybug rubbed her forehead. "Just get back here in one piece and tell us where it is if you find it."
"Naturally."
It was early in the day; the sun was shining brightly overhead, warming the Knight through his armor to the point that he could feel drops of sweat running down his back. A small crowd had gathered around the field to watch the spectacle – somehow the news had gotten out to the refugees that the Heroes of Paris were ready to fight the Tarasque again. They were going to be back in Europe soon. The Knight straightened his back. When he had agreed to carry on the family legacy, he had never imagined that it might come to something like this: a battle against an eldritch horror that could destroy cities in a matter of hours.
But as he looked around at the other heroes, his shoulders straightened. He was not going into this alone. He was part of something much greater than himself.
Unfortunately, if they were going to actually fight the Tarasque, they needed to find the thing. And to do that, they needed to go in alone like this. They hadn't been able to contact Europe since their arrival in the camp – even the embassy attaché who had come down from Luanda had been unable to send word back to France. The reason seemed obvious. So much of the infrastructure around Europe had been cut off and disrupted by the passing of the Beasts, followed by the Tarasque itself forming and rampaging through Paris, that every means of communication had been cut off. The Knight frowned beneath his helmet. That also meant he hadn't been able to contact his parents since their arrival here. He had seen them before he left home… but after that he hadn't done more than send his father a quick message before the battle began. Had they watched the Tarasque fight? Were they worried? Did they know that he had survived, that he had escaped with the other refugees? And Greta's parents…
They didn't know anything about where their daughter was.
After passing out small handheld devices to the Knight, Lancer, Hato Gozen, and Majestia, Ladybug finally stepped, folded her arms, and nodded to Cavalière Lavande. "Are you ready?"
Giving them a curt smile, Cavalière Lavande cleared her throat and nodded back to Ladybug. Her glasses glowed and turned violet. "As I'll ever be."
Ladybug let out a breath, both anxiety and confidence visible in her expression. "The portals will only stay open long enough for you to get through," she informed them. "We can't let the Tarasque's poison creep through to Africa, if you find it there. Once the portals are closed, you will be effectively on your own. We don't know if long-distance communication is even possible under the circumstances – even with miraculous communicators. Cavalière Lavande will open the portal again in the exact same location one hour from now, so be back in time. If you miss the portal window, we'll send a team to search for you. Good luck."
As Ladybug stepped back, the Knight nodded in recognition and turned toward the others. As he did so, he paused on finding the Lancer with her helmet fixed on him. The Knight cleared his throat. "Be safe," he told her, clasping her hand. "And good hunting."
"You do the same," the Lancer replied, hefting her lance and resting it on her shoulder. "I'll see you on the other side."
"Voyage!" called Cavalière Lavande, stepping forward as the Knight and the others approached to form a ring around her. Cavalière Lavande's fist was wreathed with purple energy, the faint outline of a butterfly around her glasses, and she stomped her foot, punching both her fists upward in opposite directions.
Rings of purple-tinged swirling energy were flung from her wrists and spread out, each of the two separating into three rings which solidified. The six portals opened, hovering in a circle around her, and the Knight could see a different image through each one. One showed plowed fields beneath; another showed a river; still another opened above a small city. Slowly, the Knight approached the portal closest to him, through which he saw a brilliant blue seashore with sandy beaches. At a glance, the portal itself had opened close to fifty meters above the ground.
Jumping through the portal without hesitation, the Knight shouted, "Helfen," and at once he felt the familiar sensation of weightlessness as his descent stopped abruptly and he began to hover. Slowly he rotated clockwise, scanning the scene below him carefully. Although he had looked at the map indicating where he would be sent, none of the topography looked familiar – certainly not from this height. To the east he could see a large city sitting on a bay with a large island several kilometers out to sea – Marseille. He hummed pensively. Nothing in the city or in the countryside around it would suggest that this city had experienced a catastrophe like the passage of the Tarasque. The air had a crispness and freshness to it, completely at odds with the poisonous air the Tarasque had constantly spewed. Pressing one of the buttons on the device Ladybug had given him, he studied the readout with a quick glance and furrowed his brows before replacing the device in his pocket.
Despite the idyllic setting, there were trace levels of the Tarasque's poison in the atmosphere.
The Knight activated his earpiece. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
No response.
"Of course everyone else is out of range," he grumbled to himself, letting out an annoyed groan. Turning around in a lazy circle, he searched the horizon in either direction for any indication of the Tarasque, listening carefully for the crashing and roaring he had come to associate with the Monster. The countryside below, however, appeared completely undisturbed. In the distance he could hear the sounds of vehicles driving up and down the streets. Out at sea, commercial vessels put into and out of the port while workmen loaded and unloaded the ships along the quay. Nothing here suggested that the massive beast was present… but the scanner device hadn't lied.
The Knight pursed his lips, considering his options for further investigation. He could stay here for the next 55 minutes and wait out the clock… but that did not sound appealing. Finally, he turned to the west, flying along the shoreline. Far in the distance he could see another city – Montpellier, if he remembered the map correctly – and slowly he turned in that direction, willing himself forward faster. The seashore whipped past him rapidly, until he very abruptly flew over the port at the mouth of the Rhone River, a complex of docks in a constant state of activity halfway between Marseille and Montpellier. Ships continued to put into port and dock as workers from the shore leapt on board to begin unloading the cargo; he watched as several of the containers were unceremoniously opened on the dock, the contents pulled out and divided among three waiting boats. Of the three, two boats put out from the dock and motored to the east and west, while the third boat rushed up the river. The Knight pursed his lips, watching the boats for several minutes before finally moving into action. However, as he began to fly north over the Rhone, the Knight looked closer at the ocean: the water coming in from the river seemed to have more of a greenish tint to it. Cautiously, the Knight descended closer to the ground, until he only hovered a dozen meters above the water. From this closer distance, the signs were unmistakable. Green haze carried down the river from somewhere above was hovering over the surface of the river, which brought with it the smell of dead and decaying fish. His mouth set in a thin line, trying not to throw up, the Knight ascended back up until he had reached fifty meters and turned to follow the river to the north.
The river wound alongside a road, through fields interspersed with towns and cities of various sizes, for several kilometers north of the port. With each kilometer he flew, the Knight saw more and more of the green smoke floating over the face of the water, the stench of death more and more pronounced. Yellowed patches of dead plants dotted the riverbank on either side where the grass grew closest to the water level. Just above the level of the tallest buildings, the Knight flew over Arles, where the green smoke appeared thicker. Here, in contrast to Marseille, little traffic could be seen on the streets; even fewer people were visible walking. A couple police officers stood together at an intersection he was passing – one covered his face with a cloth tied loosely behind his head. The Knight frowned. From the descriptions on the news, this reminded him of nothing so much as Paris before the Beasts arrived, when the city had been held in the grip of the illness.
And yet, no Tarasque.
Dropping lower, he continued north, following the course of the river, as the green haze became steadily thicker. Even more of the countryside was showing the effects of the poison gas – entire fields lay brown and dead, a low layer of green visible hovering over the soil. The Knight had been flying for a while already; he couldn't see his watch, but he had to be getting close to when he needed to turn back. He was just about to turn around, almost five kilometers north of Arles. Movement caught his eye to the north. And then–
ROAR!
The Tarasque's head rose above the cityscape in front of him, belching out green poisoned air in a spout that reached up into the atmosphere as it roared again. Eyes wide in shock, the Knight propelled himself forward, straight toward it. The southern edge of the city stretched out in either direction from the river. But aside from the line of ruined walls demarcating the edge of the city, nothing was left standing; everything was in ruins. No people were visible anywhere. Nothing but the Tarasque, which stood in the center of the city atop a pile of rubble, surrounded by devastation. Poisoned air hung thick on the ground, up to at least a dozen meters above the ground. Dead plants lay strewn across the ground for at least twenty kilometers in all directions, choked out by the poison.
In utter shock, the Knight froze in midair, hovering above the southernmost edge of the city and staring down at the horrific sight. An entire town: demolished without any to deliver it from the Tarasque's influence. He clenched his sword tightly, his eyes narrowed. Suddenly, the Tarasque turned to face him and unleashed a wave of destructive fire from its eyes, straight at the Knight. His eyes widening, the Knight dropped lower to avoid the fire before spinning around in midair and rocketing south toward Marseille, where the portal would eventually open.
"I guess we found it…"