A Dream of the New World.

The Black Scripture moved silently and with purpose though the heavily wooded forest several days south of E-Rantel. This mission was of the utmost importance. An anomaly had disrupted The Thousand Leagues Astrologers attempts at magical observation. The most likely culprit of such a powerful ability being a Dragon Lord, the Slane Theocracy was forced to act and did so by sending out its elite fighting squadron to investigate.

The Captain of this trump card of humanity was calm, but remained vigilant. The cockiness of his youth was thoroughly beaten out of him by the extra seat of the black scripture, Zesshi Zetsumei. Thanks to her he understood that the world was filled with dangerous entities. As an awakened Godkin he also knew that he was chosen by the 6 Great Gods to act for the sake of humanity's survival. Culminating in the extinction of all wretched demihumans and any who would side with them.

Still half a day's travel through the forest to the location where observation had been interrupted, the Captain was surprised to see the group's impromptu scout, codenamed Heaven and Earth, appear before him giving the hand signal to hold their position.

"Report." The Captain ordered, voice kept low.

"500 meters ahead, traveling in a westward direction, they will cross paths with our group if we continue. Two anomalies." The man wrapped in skintight red cloth and bandages said. The slightest hint of unease apparent in his voice, however his demeanor remained steadfast.

"Continue..." If it were something as simple as an old outpost, or a group of goblins, ogres or trolls, all of which were common in the forests of the Re-Estize kingdom, Heaven and Earth would have simply performed reconnaissance and eliminated anything undesirable. The fact he had not gave the Captain pause.

"Two demi-humans, as best as I can tell. The first is a large boar type beastman. If I had to guess he could be a barbarian or a monk, based on his physique. The second may be some sort of harpy variant. It bears a large set of wings, but it appears one of the wings was mangled at some point in the past, it may be unable to fly."

"What do you mean 'harpy variant'?" The second seat of the Black Scripture, Time Turbulence, asked. As he did so he pulled a large tome, that juxtaposed his diminutive tophat, from a satchel that should not have been able to fit it. This tome was a lexicon of creatures and included details such as weaknesses and vulnerabilities.

"A harpy has wings for arms right? Well this one had both, plus it? ...He? Uses a cane to walk."

"This is an odd pairing, as well as an odd place for them to be but it doesn't seem to be something outside of your capability to handle without my input. What else?"

"That's just it, other than the clothes on their backs there isn't anything else. No armaments, except maybe that cane, no armor, no packs, nothing. We are 20 kilometers from the nearest human population center, several hundred from the Abelion Hills, and they have no supplies..

"They could be foraging? Perhaps the big one is a truffle boar." Quaiesse Hazeia Quintia, codenamed One Man Army for his use of a large variety of bestial summons held within his many rings, said with a smirk.

"I doubt it, the clothing I mentioned is immaculate. Incredible quality, if it wasn't for the fact they are vile demi-humans, I would have thought the big one was a local noble..."

"I didn't know you had an eye for fashion Heaven," Said Divine Chant with a glint in her eye. Her feathered hood bobbing slightly. "What are they wearing?"

"The Boarman is wearing a frilled white dress shirt, gray leather pants, no boots, his hooves are exposed... As well as spectacles, a red royal gown with white fur trim, and a crown..."

At that moment the whole of the Black Scripture, save Heaven and Earth, groaned.

"You're getting high off your own poison Heaven! If this is some sort of stupid joke at the expense of our mission I'll personally see to it that the extra seat turns your a-"

"May Surshana strike me down if I've uttered one falsehood!" Heaven and Earth exclaimed, cutting off the 10th seat known as Strongest Man, who'd shifted his massive axe off of his shoulder without any effort.

All of the Black Scripture stood in silence for a moment, calling down the judgment of Surshana, the strongest of the 6 great gods, was no laughing matter.

When the moment passed the Captain spoke in a hushed tone, probably in an attempt to counteract the shouting match that had just occurred during the stealth mission.

"Ok, so we have a possible Beastman Lord in the heart of the human territories, they have no support save for a crippled harpy who might have a sword. That's fine, we can handle that. Anything else important to mention?"

"The harpy may have originated from the southeastern part of the continent. He appeared to be wearing a haori over a kimono, traditional wear for some of those regions."

"That gives even more credence to the idea of a hidden sword. That region is well known for its swordsmen who fight in somewhat unorthodox but very interesting styles." Strongest Man was always looking for more challenging opponents, it made perfect sense that he'd be aware of the existence of peculiar sword wielding techniques. "I recommend we assume this harpy to be some sort of Commander or a member of the Lords elite guard.

"Can't be too cautious."

"There was also some basic jewry, while I don't believe any of it was enchanted, they both had emeralds attached to their persons near their faces, one clipped to their ear, the other a hat. And the harpy had a depiction of a heart with wings carved into it around his neck."

"A crest perhaps? Maybe it allows him to fly without the use of his wing? As for the emeralds, in the worst case scenario it might allow them to contact backup. We should attempt a dialogue in order to better understand what we are up against."

At the Captain's remark the others nodded, while on one here likes the idea of allowing subhuman filth to live even a second longer, information was the most powerful weapon.

"Heaven, flank them undetected, Magics, 1000, Chant, Spirits fall back and stay out of sight, keep Lady Kaire safe. Prep single target spells for if they attack immediately, otherwise we will keep distance to allow for area of effect." Then the Captain spoke much louder, with some heat in his voice: "TiTs, pull out the map, we're lost."

"I hate it when you call me that!" Time Turbulence put away the tome he'd been skimming and pulled out a map of the area, "I told you we should have double checked with the archives in the city if the maps were up to date!" While the youngest of the group, he was extremely clever and immediately caught on to the plan.

Also understanding their leader's intent, the other members still present also began to bicker loudly, creating a discordant cacophony that would certainly lure their prey. Several crows rose among the foliage and flew away.

Not a minute passed before a shout could be heard from the direction they had been heading. Those with more acute hearing could also discern the movement of several entities among the brush.

"He- Hello?" A man's voice filtered through the trees, a wooden cane sprouted from them into the clearing, it was being used to push brush aside. In the creature's other hand was a map, partially unfurled. He had a look of relief on his distinctly human face, were it not for the mass of rippling feathers shaking out loose twigs he would have passed for a human. He could even have passed as Nobility, with radiant blond hair and blue eyes. The thought crossed the Captain's mind for a brief moment that his blood must have intertwined with some kidnapped royalty of the human kingdoms, or worse yet that some humans willingly interbreed with non-humans in the pursuit of power or for some other sacreligious reason.

Feigning surprise, several of the other members of the group place their hands on their weapons. Immediately the Captain motioned to calm them. "Greetings, umm, I wasn't expecting to meet anyone else this far out from town. What are you doing out here, are you a harpy or something?"

The wings shifted and the humanoid scratched his temple underneath his green and white hat with a wide brim, which did indeed have a small emerald spended by a thread, hanging off of it. His clothing is foreign, a green jinbei, a black undershirt with a red heart, black haori, a red belt, and sandals. His face held a smile that gave off the impression of a very complicated explanation. "Like you all my friend and I are a bit lost it seems… I was trying to follow this map when it stopped working, so now I've been going in a straight line for a while hoping to find something. And I am just a normal regular guy. Yup. Names Phil by the way, a pleasure."

Time Temperance, confused for a myriad of reasons, held up his hands toward the creature then asked: "What friend? What do you mean 'stopped working'? It's a map! And you obviously aren't 'just a guy' you've got a 6 meter wingspan!"

The winged man's eyes widened for a moment in apparent realization of his slip. "Ah, yeah he's the anxious sort, armed battalions always give him a stomach ache. And I mean what I said, the map said travel this way, but suddenly we weren't on it anymore. I don't know what to tell you. Can we compare maps for a second?"

He began to approach, but only took a step before the level of hostility seeped from the other men in the clearing and became palpable. He did not appear afraid by the sudden wave of distrust, he made a face like he was attempting to decode a perplexing puzzle.

"We'd prefer it if your friend came out of hiding, knowing someone is hiding out of sight can be a bit nerve wracking…" The Captain said dryly. Scratching the back of his head.

"Oh, I mean alright, I am sure you've all seen your fair share of strange things. Hey! Tech-... Techno? Can you come out?" The man turned around and attempted to peer through the trees, about 3 meters away, a hulking figure strode into view.

The beasts' hair was coarse, probably as tough as full plate, to a normal person, that is. The Captain knew full well his spear could pierce even adamantine armor with ease, so he remained unperturbed. It was a head taller, even while slouched forward, than Strongest Man, who had a fierce grin on his face at the mere thought of fighting a strong opponent.

Curiously, while the spectacles were in place atop his snout, the supposed Crown and Cape were nowhere to be seen.

"A beautiful day is it not? Take joy in this beautiful moment, and understand that it will never be lovelier than it is now, it will never be so lovely again. Paraphrased from Homer, I believe." A soft spoken, thoughtful voice, it was strange coming from a being who exerted the air of innate ability, compounded by honed skills. There was something else there too that the two shared, an alieness. All members of the Black Scripture were adept at combat, through years of rigorous training and experience, they could gauge an enemies ability before ever crossing blades. But the conviction of each of them, in their ability to determine the power laying in both opponents before them, was absent. Yes, the Boarman was massive, obviously powerful, but the much smaller creature beside him also gave off a similar but distinct aura of energy. Both attempted to portray calmness and may have even been attempting to show warmth, but through his upbringing as a noble, the Captain was sure the two were sizing up everyone before them, and that they were not to be underestimated.

"Unfortunately I can't say I've heard of Homer before," the Captain replied, "from where does he hail?" Knowing where these strange "diplomats", which he felt was both an absurd thought but also the least unlikely, came from would give his squadron a leg up on the intelligence side of this battle.

The two intruders glanced at one another, "Oh he's a little known poet from some far off time, my friend just loves his obscure prose. Perhaps if we help one another out of here we can discuss it at a tavern? I didn't have the chance to ask you all, what brought you this way?"

As the winged man approached the Boarman did as well, at a half step to stay just beside and behind his smaller companion. "We are workers from the Baharuth Empire, doing a survey for potential development in the future. What about yourselves?" The Captain lied, using a predetermined cover that he was sure the interlopers would be unable to verify.

"Are you all expecting a war to break out? I've never seen a survey team so heavily armed." The feathered man smiled jovially. "I'll bet that since you're scouting the area, you'll be able to point us in the right direction! Have you seen a Manor around here?"

Now it was the Scriptures turn to glance at one another. "Manor?" Time Turbulence asked.

"You know, like a house but massive, I mean like 300 meters to a side." He swung his arms out as if to help portray the size of the structure. "Three or four stories all, usually made from wood? Heavily guarded? No?" He folded one arm on top of the other and placed a knuckle under his chin. "Here, look."

He closed the distance, holding out the map that had been in his hand since he entered the clearing, but curiously not in Heaven and Earths report. His dominant hand did hold the cane, which he did appear to use to aid in walking, whether or not this was a ruse was unknown.

The Captain, Time Turbulence, and One Man Army all leaned in so that they could see the map clearly. The others maintained several meters of distance. They are in the middle of a forest, a day away from the nearest village, let alone a Manor. These guys must have gotten some really bad intel.

"What the…" Time Turbulence was the first to look back up at the strange man, the "Map" was little more than a detailed drawing of countless treetops, along with a massive plain rectangular structure seated among them. "Phil" continued to look at them, his face one of mild puzzlement.

"There are no markers, no towns, orientation, or keys. This is just a drawing, what are you nuts?" Time might have actually been upset at this point, he was very clever, but right now it looked like the Scripture was being toyed with, or were being overly cautious because of a moron.

"We don't need all that, we just have to follow the arrow, and we will end up where we wanted to go, except we didn't this time… Strange stuff. Can I see your map? Because clearly you and I have a very different understanding of how maps work."

Reluctantly Time Unrolled the large parchment and flipped it around so that the odd pair could see it. Both the Winged man and the Beastman leaned in close, the Boarman even adjusted his eye glasses. It would have been comical if it wasn't so unnerving.

After a brief pause "Well that doesn't help. What do you think?" the Birdman asked his counterpart.

"You and I know a variety of languages, both ancient and obscure, but I do not recognize this one."

"It might take some inspiration from Japanese, but it looks like there has been at least a few hundred years worth of semantic drift… How peculiar." After shrugging "How unfortunate. I guess we'll just have to ask around the nearby villages, maybe find a cartographer. Do you know which way it is to the closest village?"

"What's so special about this supposed manor anyway?" Strongest Man asked, scratching his well defined abdominal muscles casually.

"Well, ah you see… It's like a relic, sort of…" The man in the hat trailed off as he turned back to his furry friend, who coughed into his hand, who then replied in his stead: "If you are unaware, then it is of no value to you. I do hope you will leave it at that."

The Captain understood that the situation was only becoming more convoluted as it progressed, but now there was a more serious concern. What would these two be after, could some forgotten relic of the 6 great gods have made its way into this forest? With how strange everything up until this moment had been it may be possible.

The Captain felt it may be time to close the net, so long as one of the two remains alive they can get whatever answers they need. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but the nearby villages might look at you two in a poor light, considering what you are."

"What do you mean? I doubt our reputation has reached this far, considering you don't recognize us." There was the slightest air of displeasure, mixed with amusement in the man's eye, the rest of the scripture, both visible and not, began to move into battle ready stances as naturally as possible.

"I am not sure what you mean by that, and we aren't really sure how you made it this far into the country, but it isn't one that looks favorably on dem-"

"Wait, country? How long has there been a country here? What type of government do they have?"

The air of anticipation that the Scripture members were beginning to feel nearly collapsed, only their discipline kept them from physically reacting.

"This is Re-estize. It's a monarchy, it has existed for several hundred years. How long have you been following that map? The direction you both were coming from, the closest concentration of Beastmen would be past the Draconic Kingdom, right?" 'They must be toying with us,' each seat of the scripture was beginning to believe. 'They are stringing us along for information, who knows what they've actually come here to do… Who can guess what they have already determined from speaking with us. We should subdue them immediately.' The Captain's eyes shifted imperceptibly, to where he sensed Heaven and Earth in the brush behind the pair, ready to assassinate the more notable threat as soon as the signal was given.

"Phil" seemingly aloof to the mounting tension tapped his chin with his staff and asked: "Lots of corruption in this Kingdom, I'm sure?"

"Indeed, the nobles and royalists fight for power, leaving the less fortunate to fend for themselves. A very common sight." Hoping to squeeze any more information out of the pair was surely a waste of time, yet he found himself unable to give the signal. Was he scared? Impossible, he was the Captain of the Black Scripture, he was the Black Scripture. The second strongest being in the Slane Theocracy, born and bred for combat, even if he did die he would simply be resurrected. But the feeling these two gave off still caused him to hesitate, as if some force were informing him that the natural law does not apply here.

"What do you think, my old friend?"

"It's been a few years since we destroyed a governing body and brought a nation to ruin. On top of that, bratty nobility and incompetent kings are my favorite. Sic sempre tyrannis as the saying goes." The Boarman once again adjusted the glasses resting on his snout. A small puff of steam poured from his nostrils as he exiled, apparently the idea invigorated him.

'A relation to landfall? This must be some stupid joke, but not even the Beastmen lords to the east or the tribal leaders of the Abelion Hills would make such an outlandish claim.'

"Once we've finished up here I guess we'll work our way to the capital. If everyone's equipment is as bad as these guys then I believe the Withers left over from our last conflict will be enough, don't you?"

'Withers' sounds like a form of undead.' Thought the Captain, and he smiled. Now he understood, the off-putting feeling was because the two must be necromancers, they must be high-ranking members of Zerrernorn, tasked with creating a death spiral within the capital, they don't realize who they've had the displeasure of running into.

"I agree, however your crows mentioned 13 people in this group. Where are the other six?"

'Or maybe they did know what they were walking into…' At the mention of crows the Captain recalled a group taking flight while they pretended to bicker earlier. That means they were being observed for a while, and that the current situation was most likely a trap set for them beforehand. They couldn't have known, crows were common in the forest, how were they supposed to realize one among a thousand was a familiar... Against his better judgment the Captain shifted his focus and allowed his awareness to expand for just a moment in order to see if he could detect their opponents familiar, he quickly wished he'd remained ignorant. First there were dozens, then hundreds, perhaps several thousand crows within 60 meters of them. They were all unnaturally still and silent, only swaying with the breeze and staring at whichever member they were closest to, including those in hiding.

One Man Army once explained to him the difficulty in having even one familiar. Sharing a mental bond with a weak creature, let alone a strong willed one, while providing benefits to both parties, mentally taxed the master. He was considered an outlier among summoners as he could control 10 powerful beasts at once. While the crows did not seem dangerous the entire party had failed to notice them, meaning they must have a high degree of stealth capabilities comparable to Heaven and Earth, an insane idea by any stretch of the imagination. On top of that, the one controlling them all seemed at ease even with thousands of voices relaying information to him constantly. It would have driven any normal sentient being mad within minutes.

"One behind, some kind of assassin. Five backliners hidden in the trees. They've been avoiding main roads, and like I mentioned before, compared to people in the nearby villages their gear is high quality. I still think they are our best bet for information so try to leave some alive."

"You're the one to talk, Mr. 'Angel of Death.' Still, 2 against 13 seems a little unfair. Would you like to sit this one out? Rest your old bones for a spell?" The boarman was both calm and casual. The Captain gave a covert hand signal to the group, indicating that after a first clash they should reassess the situation and prepare for retreat, prioritizing the safety of the wielder of the Downfall of Castle and Country. And that 1000 Leagues Astrologer should immediately report what information they have gained to the Cardinal in charge of the Black Scripture, via message.

"I'd have hoped my teachings would have made it through that thick skull of yours after so long. Use every advantage. I know you'd have no trouble but they might have some weird trick, for example that one reminds me of an Evoker." He pointed his cane at One Man Army, who had shifted away from the rest of the group in order to make room for his summons should they be needed. "Their gear is so varied, but the one with the Axe, and the other with the massive sword do remind me of Vindicators. Obviously the Spearman has the most interesting aura, but you already know all of this I'm sure."

One Man Army stepped forward in hopes to create the illusion of some misunderstanding, while actually stalling to allow 1000 to complete her report. "Hang on, we have no intentions of fighting, we have been on the job for a while and are just jumpy is all. Maybe we ca-"

The boarman, with the mere flick of his wrist, tossed a black glass orb roughly the size of an apple 30 meters into the air. A quick calculation determined it would land squarely between the casters, still hidden within the woods, and the front line forces. The Captain's mind flooded with possible reasons for that action, the most likely scenario was that some spell such as fireball was held within the sealing crystal like object. By throwing in between the two sections of the group he is forcing us to break formation, this spell could also block line of sight between the two groups, or even create a magical barrier to prevent the support specialist from aiding in the fight.

Unfortunately for the boarman the Black Scripture was well equipped to deal with whatever the orb might do. Even a strong magical barrier would not take long to be destroyed by the likes of Infinite Magic.

After the split second he had traced the parabola of the orb and made those guesses to its nature, he shifted his eyes back toward the two, only to be met by a wall of plate armor. That is what it felt like at least, when a 3 meter tall beastman has suddenly become encased in a full suit of armor and is lunging toward you, it is a fair comparison.

Being an experienced fighter, the Captain's mind analyzed as many aspects of the moment as possible. First of all was the fact that whatever armor this beast was wearing was entirely foreign to him. It was far darker than adamantine, a black canvas with golden trim outlining a crown around the helmeted head, and red vein-like filigree tracing along the rest. The entire suit was of exquisite quality and religiously cared for. Not a blemish from past battles was apparent, however it was also obvious that its user was as comfortable in fighting in it as if it were their own skin. If it had been Adamantine, the sheer amount of material needed for the gargantuan creature's frame would have caused any monarch to groan. In 'Technos' right hand was an axe, made of the same dark material, and in his left, a wooden and steel tower shield, with the design of a blue background with a white sun in the center, a beam of white light stretched from the top to the bottom of the shield. It was a crest he was entirely unfamiliar with but the information might help the cardinals in future negotiations. His entire body was awash in a pale glow, similar to that of viewing a creek bed though clear water, the obvious signs a variety of powerful enchantments that increased the value of it all 10 fold.

Somehow, the massive figure had donned a full set of enchanted plate armor in the fraction of time he'd not been observing him. And now was swiftly bringing a plain yet affective looking axe to bear onto the Captain's forehead. In accordance with the still falling orb, the rest of the frontliners were already moving forward, away from its potential area of effect, and all those with shields or powerful physical builds, namely Myriad Barriers, Strongest human, and the 6th seat, coalesced into a bastardized phalanx. With the Captain, Time Turbulence, and Divine Chain acting as spearmen.

The Phalanx was a favorite military formation of the Earth God, as recorded by the scribes during his time among the newly birthed Theocracy. Its usefulness is well understood and in this moment seemed most appropriate. 'When a wall of meat is charging at you, make a shield wall with pointy bits sticking out.' Zesshi said once. At the time everyone was sure she was merely paraphrasing Rufus' teachings in a jestting manner.

The Captain was the only one with senses sharp enough to notice the incongruity in the beastman's charge. While the entirety of his body charged forward, seemingly helbend on rending flesh with his axe, paying little thought to even a modicum of defense, such as raising his shield. His eyes were fixed on the woodlands behind this tight nit formation. Even if the Captain had discerned the Monstrosities' reason for this strange behavior he would not have had time to warn the others.

Like the well oiled machine the Black Scripture constantly trained to act as, four powerful magical attacks were launched toward the charing foe from the surrounding treeline, he was an easy target, both due to his height and the fact that the front liners had all crouched somewhat to allow just such an attack, as well as in order to absorb the oncoming charge.

The spells should have easily found their mark.

Just as the spells were reaching the Boarman, there was the distinct sound of what must have been the orb, shattering on impact, followed immediately by 'vorp' of air filling the vacuum where the Beastman had been charging an instant before.

His senses informed him of an unfortunate reality, the boarman was now standing behind the impromptu phalanx, between them and their support. As he turned his head and his adrenaline spiked, time seemed to slow down and his nerves began to fray.

The massive brute was facing the same way he had been, but instead of an axe was now welding a massive crossbow designed for a creature of his stature, it was more akin to a ballista. It too glowed with enchantment. He still held his tower shield in his off hand, angling it so as to be a barrier between the people he just appeared behind and himself.

'Where is this equipment coming from?' The thought crossed his mind but was immediately exchanged for another as the highly decorated bolt of the crossbow was released towards the woods, in the direction one of the spellcasters had attacked from. 'Shit!'

As the massive bolt left the flight grove it became three separate bolts that flew to either side and directly toward where the Captain was sure Infinite Magic was concealed. As the center bolt made contact with an arrow barrier she instinctively erected, it exploded in a concentrated fireball that engulfed her. The two other bolts struck nearby trees, those too erupted into terrifying spherical infernos. Her cry of both suprise and anguish was cut worryingly short. The power behind them easily rivaled the 6th tier rendition of a fireball. The damage a single hit could cause could not be taken lightly.

Time continued to feel drawn out, even now the Captain, and those with him, were still turning their bodies and weapons in an attempt to face the primary threat.

A moment of hope filled the Captain's mind. Their opponent was now flanked, if in a somewhat lopsided fashion, and his ranged weapon would need to be reloaded before being fired again. This hope was immediately dashed.

Moving at the same speed as any given member of the Scripture, the warrior only needed to rotate his torso and shift his arm to place his next target within his line of fire. As he did so a fresh bolt, as intricately designed as the last, seemed to materialize into an already primed crossbow. Repeating crossbows did exist, but there was a magazine affixed atop them, and they still needed to be primed to be fired again. This crossbow must be enchanted to automatically reload? With magical rounds of that caliper? If that were true it would be par with Divine Relics of the gods. He couldn't believe that, he hoped it was not the case.

A moment ago Heaven and Earth had been ready to assassinate the Boarman, but the order to do so didn't come. He did have the liberty to act without the Captain's orders, within reason, but when conflict was imminent and he decided to attempt a coup de grâce on the beastman lord he was paralyzed with confusion. First at the understanding that the two knew he was stalking them, something none other than the most perceptive of the Black Scripture could lay claim to, then that they continued to remain relaxed.

Being an assassin he knew never to let his eyes off of his target, regardless of what distraction they might attempt. So while the other members focused on whatever it was that had been thrown, he watched as platemail materialized onto the body of the fighter. First the helmet, something similar to a barbute, then a cuirass with pauldrons but no vambraces or gauntlets, then the cuiss and grieves, lastly were the sabatons. Strangely he did not begin his charge until the last piece was equipped, if this was intentional or not he was not certain.

'Had it been invisible? No, he'd shown no sign of restricted movements before just now. He was certainly not holding an invisible axe the entire time either.' Gauging from the previous conversation of the two as well as the large one's faith in his armor against so many opponents, Heaven and Earth felt that a sneak attack would be ineffective. That meant he should switch targets and focus on capturing the birdman. He'd allow the rest of the Scripture to deal with the Lord, and assist once here was finished if it was necessary.

The assassin shifted his eyes to the harpy-like demi-human, just in time to see him release an arrow from a longbow that had replaced his cane while Heaven had been watching the Beatman. To a normal human, being 10 meters away from a bowman meant injury was certain, because there was no time to dodge or deflect the arrow. To someone within the realm of heroes, the little allotted was more than enough. Heaven and Earth calmly raised his hand in order to catch the arrow by its shaft as it reached him. As he easily grasped it his entire body was racked with horrible pain. His mind reeled for only a moment, he was a trained soldier and understood the importance of not allowing the pain to override his emotions. He analyzed the situation. There was no epicenter for the pain, it felt as if his entire body were being subjected to intense pressure, as if he were suddenly a kilometer underwater, how had that happened? 'The arrows shaft may have been coated in poison? That's ridiculous, also I am resistant to all known poisons, and don't recognize this effect. Then it must be a spell.' The pain subsided after only a moment but he felt incredibly tired, instinctually he understood, just one more of those and he'd be incapacitated if not worse. He was also surprised to find he'd been thrown back several meters, only stopped by the tree he now leaned against. 'If that's what happens simply from touching the arrow, I can't imagine what it would have done had it hit me.' With that he straightened up and began to move toward the angelic archer.

He did not have to move very far. As if the string of fate had gone taught and drew the blade of one into the chest of the other, the birdman had launched at his stalker, piercing his dominant shoulder just below the clavicle, one of the few unarmoured points on his body, with the sword that had indeed been hidden within his cane. The blade was then turned and slipped above his first rib and was pushed through toward the back of his now vulnerable throat. It had appeared to the assassin that his opponent was aiming for his center of mass so he'd attempted to dodge, however he quickly realized that he had been mistaken, the winged man before him had feigned the attack and angled his blade just so to allow for what would become a fatal strike. Being a specialist in the death of others, he understood in a clinical sense exactly how the strike was being executed, and he couldn't help but analyze how flawlessly it was done.

With seemingly little effort, the feathered swordsman severed the connection between his last cervical and the first thoracic vertebrae, as well as his trachea, internal and external jugular veins, and his esophagus. It was almost surgical in nature, to slip between the plates of armor, around various bones, through the muscles, in such a way that the blood from the arteries would flow into the stomach and lungs to poison and suffocate him, as well as hide evidence. The only visible wound was an incision the width of the blade at his shoulder. Certain death in five ways if not immediately tended to, unable to call for help, total paralysis of the body but still conscious, terrifying and beautiful, only someone like himself would have ever realized. The 12th Seat's body was only being supported by the weapon when the birdman stepped in and grabbed under his arm as he removed the blade, gently resting the man against the tree he'd so recently been thrown into. With a swift motion he removed the pouch of scrolls, potions, and other necessities that usually rested on the back of his hip, in doing so he slightly slumped toward his non-dominant side, surely in part to make sure the blood flowed the correct route. Any passerby would have assumed he'd taken a nap, the way his hands were placed tenderly in his lap. With the last vestiges of strength and fading consciousness he moved his eyes upward to look at those of his killer. Only to see that he had already turned away, walking back toward the ongoing battle, wiping his blade of blood with a cloth.

He understood. He was just another opponent to this wayward traveler. Just like any target the Assassin had taken down without remorse or pause, but the level of care he'd shown in that single attack made it seem like an injustice not to give some final word or at least a glance to say "You were a good opponent." 'He must give that level of thought to everyone I suppose.' As he stepped away, his black wings ruffled slightly and the term "Angel of Death" seemed more than appropriate.

Four Great Spirits was the next in the Hogman's sights, having witnessed the fate of Infinite Magic and how her barrier failed to help her, as well as guessing the armor the beast wore would negate physical attack spells, he attempted an attack spell that focused on the targets mental fortitude. If he could cause the beast to panic, succumb to fear, or even charm him for just a few seconds then the rest of the scripture could capitalize on the opportunity and finish him before he could do any more damage.

He chose to cast Fear. He made this choice based on the assumption that a creature as strong as this probably hadn't felt fear in many years, therefore the novelty of it may be enough to cause him to succumb. On top of casting this spell, Four Great Spirits augmented it via meta magic. He had developed an augmentation to the spell that allowed him to enter the psyche of the target, doing so would allow him to better understand their fears, meaning he could pick the most potent nightmare for them to experience. This process was instantaneous to the outside observer, but to the caster it could take anywhere from several seconds to a minute or two to delve deeply enough into the mind of an opponent to grasp their fears.

The world faded out around Four Great Spirits. This was natural, his senses would return to him in a moment now that he was inside the mindscape of his target, often one by one. In this instance touch was the first to return. He felt uneven ground around his feet, it felt soft, his feet sank in slightly.

'Sand perhaps? Or maybe a muddy field? He is a pig after all.' The magician smirked, 'Physical strength is not everything. Even if you attempt to parrot literature, I know you are a demi-human that wallows in filth.'

Another moment passed, at once his sense of taste and smell began again, It was a smell he was familiar with due to his line of work. That of rotting corpses and of bloodstained fields.

'A career as a fighter, no doubt. A muddy battlefield, perhaps where he first rose to power as a lord.'

Then his hearing returned.

It began as a high pitched whine, similar to if one were recovering from shock: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…

But as that noise began to fade, or perhaps he began to tune it out, many voices could be heard. Due to the nature of this world any sentient being could understand the speech of any other, only those well versed in lip reading have an easy time differentiating when other languages are being spoken. However, even though he could understand everything being said around him, he knew instinctively these exclamations were being vocalized in dozens of languages. They were not conversing, they were not harmonizing into a melody, each voice paid no mind to the others and constantly cried out in desperation. They sometimes only muttered a single word, sometimes a short phrase, but many seemed content with simply wailing, screeching, or crying. It was the kind of wail that indicated a need was going unfulfilled, to the point where the entirety of the afflicted craved only that missing piece. A longing that one would give everything to have satisfied.

Everything around him was crying out for blood. They demanded blood. It did not matter if it was their enemies, their allies, their loved ones, their own. They wanted to drown in it, to drink it, to watch it soak into the ground and fertilize the soil, they would never be satisfied.

The voices never relented, never rested, they only grew in intensity, never reaching a crescendo. It quickly ate at the The Four Great Spirits psychic. 'Some sort of deranged hematolagniac or perhaps just a warped sadist… Much like a certain Windstride was. They'd have gotten along swimmingly…'

Finally, his sight returned, and everything fell into place.

It was an open field sprawling for untold kilometers in every direction, overhead was the void, to call it night would have been an injustice as no light from stars, the moon, or the rising sun tainted it, yet he could see clearly due to the faint afterimages of red veinlike structures that webbed the horizon. At his feet, it would not have been a lie to call it a muddy field once, the uneven ground was no longer mud but a thick carpet of bodies of all kinds, steeping in blood. Everywhere he looked he saw the eviscerated corpse of a different species, it would have been easier to name the races not present, assuming there were any. As a member of the Black Scripture he had to have a vast array of knowledge about the various monsters of the world, so that he had a better chance at defeating them, yet the longer he looked the more he realized he had no reference for many species sprawled out before him.

The voices were also no longer a mystery, though learning their origin was not a comfort. Every single body, even those who by rights should not have been able to vocalize, be that because they were not species capable of speech or because their death had left them mutilated beyond the point of having the capacity to speak, cried out. Their eyes, if they had any, were dull and lifeless. Their limbs, stiff from rigor mortis. Their wounds, still adding to the flowing sea of blood that refuses to soak into the oversaturated soil beneath them. But their mouths, they beg.

Unable to satisfy the longing for blood themselves they cry out into the void, pleading with the universe to grant them the fruit of the suffering that is inflicted upon others, just as it was inflicted upon them.

Standing not 10 meters away, was the Beastman. He stood as regally dressed as Heaven described, crown, cape and all. Not a spot of blood on him, in his hand was a length of braided purple hair, singed and still smoldering, it was attached to the scalp of a mostly charred carcass, whose flaked and charred flesh oozed blood which dripped into the river that flowed like an underground spring from the feet of the Beast. The only other identifying features were her vacant eyes. He'd been infatuated with her since he'd joined the Black Scripture, but fear of rejection stilled his tongue, now it was too late… Infinite Magic joined the panoply that petitioned for blood.

'What, no that's not right. Once this is over we'll revive her. There is nothing to worry about.' The caster thought logically, but something was tugging at his mind, trying to warn him of some unprecedented but terrible truth.

'Techo' as the birdman had called him, watched the Magician not with malice, nor with pleasure. He looked at him not with dead eyes, like those of the remains that surrounded the two, nor with eyes filled with vitality. He simply stared. The erratic droning of the bodies ceased all at once, as if they had been silent for eons.

The Beatman spoke softly, but his voice was felt at every corner of that endless expanse. "'But here's an unlucky wanderer strayed our way, and we must tend him well.' It is very rare for someone to come here by choice… Welcome."

This was also an unusual outcome. Generally the use of the augmenting meta magic could cause Four Great Spirits to glimpse into the mind of his target and see what fears elicited the greatest emotion. For example, many an elf feared their "King'' so upon entering their mind he would be met with the inciting event for this fear. That often meant watching the elf being forced upon by their "King" or watching them watching their loved ones subjected to such things. He had never had the subject of his spell notice him, let alone address him directly.

"Is this the sight of some great battle, one that twisted your mind and has left you afraid of blood or perhaps infatuated with it to the point of madness?" Since blood was the central focus, he was sure it somehow represented the fear he was attempting to emulate, he only needed clarification.

The world exploded into noise once again, every single corpse began to laugh and jeer with as much force as they had been wailing a moment before. They mocked and cursed and spewed vitriol. They made him out to be a moron, having asked such a foolish thing as that. However it did not take long for them to lose interest in berating him and continue their vehement rally for the ichor that flowed around them.

The stately dressed brute tossed away the remains of Infinite Magic with the consideration one tosses spoiled food into a pig's trough. Her voice never waived in its persistence, even as she landed. Silence fell again, but not as total as before, the voices in the distance persisted, as if no longer interested in his presence. "This is the tapestry of my life. The culmination of every battle I have ever fought, everything I have ever killed, and the desire of the God of Blood."

With this revelation the sky above shifted. It was not a void with veins crawling upward like trees to light the horizon, it was an eye of pure blackness, with neon sclera, watching them. As its focus shifted onto him for but a moment, he mind was flooded with the culmination of 100,000 battles, a million slaughters, a myriad of genocides, all perpetrated by the Entity standing before him. Every corpse here was a soul trapped within this plane, forced to desire the very thing that brought them to this ruined state, congealing into a chorus that was only becoming harder to ignore. It became readily apparent that the Black Scripture would fail, the Creature before him was not simply a monster, it was the very concept of bloodshed made manifest by a cruel God who wanted nothing more than to spread pain so that it may revel in it. It was a perfect killing tool, wielded by the Blood God. The Organism before him was not a beastman, it was a Blade.

Four Great Spirits returned to his body in the same instance he'd left it, the crossbow was still pointed at him, the finger still tightening onto the trigger. His spell had failed. With his last breath he wanted to explain to the others the danger they faced, hoped to somehow convey what he had experienced, wanted to gather all the world's forces, no matter the race- religion be damned- and compel them to try and stop the end of all things that the Blade given life before him would bring.

Alas, all he could do was scream. A scream that was cut short, just like before. And just like before, the Beastmans torso and arm only shifted to their next target.

The treeline before the Beastman was flooded by summoned Angels and giant basilisks, obstructing the next enemy. 'The work of Divine Chant and One man Army' Thought the Captain. 'That crossbow seems unstoppable, so it would be best to generate as many targets as possible while Divine Chant, who is capable of resurrection magic, the 1000 Leagues Astrologer, the eyes and ears of the Slane Theocracy, and Lady Kaire, escape.' The Beastman lowered the crossbow. ''Tch." He lifted his arm, like a conductor orchestrating a symphony, and where there had been a crossbow liquid metal, similar to mercury, flowed. In only a moment a metal Golem, equal in size to the beastman, with powerful arms stretching all the way to the ground and vegetation hanging from it in the form of flowering vines, appeared before him.

Golems were considered war machines of incredible power. The magics for their creation were not practiced in the Slane Theocracy, who focused on the strength of humanity, but the process of their creation was understood well enough. It was generally an incredibly expensive and time consuming endeavor, whole nations who focused on their creation could be expected to have less than half a dozen in a year's time. But the few they had were well worth their weight in combat readiness. 'Where did he get that? He can't be a summoner as well, can he?'

The time needed to summon the golem allowed the six members to spread out and create a semicircle around the Beastman; they gave the golem, which had begun to rampage against the basilisks and angels that attacked it, a wide berth. As he turned to them, they all began their strike at once, save the 6th seat, who'd been in the middle of the half encirclement. He appeared to fall forward in his charge, the tip of his massive sword-like lance dipping until it dug into the soil and his body pitching over it. The Captain, glancing in their direction, at first believing he'd somehow tripped, realized what had happened. Mere centimeters above his high collar, an arrow had been embedded into the base of his skull, the apparent force of the arrow caused his body to move forward and double over his weapon. If he was still alive it would not be for long, while every member was equipped with healing potions now was not the time to attempt to administer one. On top of that, their healer was currently fleeing and well out of sight, due to the trees. Regardless, they were already committed to this attack, stopping or taking any other action would just give their opponent more time, so they charged.

Of the five remaining members, Time Turbulence and The Captain were to the Beastmans' right and the other three were to his left. This was in part a chance pairing, but they intended to capitalize on it. Anyone without the ability to gauge their opponents competency would assume the best course of action would be to attack the weaker arm, the two attackers, especially if two of the three members of the other flanks' sheer size was a factor to be considered. This two man team, however, comprised the first and second seats of the Black Scripture, meaning that they were in all likelihood the two strongest humans on this side of the continent. They should be able to occupy the Beastman's time while Divine Chain, Strongest Human, and Myriad Banners strike his flank.

The Captain Struck first, by only a fraction of measurable time, augmenting his attack with every martial art he had at his disposal. Strangely, the Monster attempted to block the oversized axe of Strongest Man with his shield, and not the Captains spear. Unsure if the material could be pierced, and unable to angle his spear to hit the neck, he aimed for and hit the shoulder below the pauldron, piercing his flesh deeply with ease. This was the best possible scenario, if he wasn't already dead his dominant arm would be disabled, and he would be bleeding heavily for the rest of the fight, only able to defend, as they would not give him a single second to tend to his wound.

A flash of red, but it wasn't blood. The Captain had to take a moment to process what he had just seen. His spear had easily pierced and been withdrawn from the arm and torso of the assailant, his strength and skill afforded him the knowledge that it wasn't an illusion that he'd caused an injury. But the sight where the wound was made, meaning the shoulder, had become the epicenter of a wave of red light that washed over the beastman's body, all of the following attacks by the other scripture members in that moment, regardless of the force behind them or martial arts that imbued them, were apparently deflected. The meteor hammer-like strike of Divine Chain, simply bounced off of his exposed neck, Strongest Man's axe, swung with the force to fell an ancient oak, did not cause his shielded left arm to recoil and merely slid off like it was greased. Myriad Banners, who had attempted a shield bash at his hip to throw him off balance, had been stopped dead in his tracks. Even Time Turbulences' rapier, aimed at the back of the leg, where armor had to be weaker if present at all, was simply incapable of piercing.

'A martial art perhaps? Something similar to "impenetrable fortress?" Why could I hit him? Did hitting him trigger the martial art?' The Captains' mind flooded with these and even more questions about this powerful technique he had no knowledge of. 'It would have been better if one of these two were taken in alive for questioning, but that may be impossible.' On top of that absurdity, there was no evidence of a wound, where a hole should have been spilling blood, there was nothing. Worse yet, the Pigman did not even appear to examine his arm and quickly spun on his heel to bring his axe into an uppercut against Myriad Banners, who had drawn closest to him in his attack.

Myriad banners raised his shield instinctively, a moment later, everyone was surprised to find that the axe had not killed him, this would be the first attack made by either of the two fighters, not that anyone present was aware of the fate of Heaven and Earth, that had not resulted in a fatality. His shield, however, had been hooked on the axe's heel and forced upward and could in that moment no longer protect him. He had also been thrown onto his backfoot by the upward force of the attack and would be unable to dodge. His eyes widened as the axe, whose bladed edge faced upward and away from him, was instantly replaced by a double edged sword that reversed momentum and moved much quicker than the axe had.

The sword moved through the man and his armor with no resistance. Unexpectedly, the man burst into flames as he fell, his very blood boiling off him as his bisected form attempted in vain to struggle in some meaningful fashion. 'The shield is a legendary artifact, perhaps the Beastman knew this and avoided damaging it?' Thought The Captain. He could not think of any other reason the monster would avoid attempting to slice through the shield as well as the man. He was coming to grips that this battle was a losing one, they simply lacked information, and were outmatched. He had resigned himself primarily to information gathering in as protracted a conflict as possible.

Per the signal the Captain had given the group what seemed like an eternity ago, all those still alive lept backward from the Creature, holding defensive stances. Waiting for orders. The Captain glanced in the direction of the fleeing members, the Golem was making short work of the Angels with its long arms each time they attempted to strike it with their swords of light. The two Basilisks' main attack, their petrifying gaze, had been useless against the unliving device, and were defeated even before the angels, by the crushing of their skulls into the dirt. Unable to see One Man Army, The Captain hoped that he had remained in order to help stall or at least observe, but could understand if he too were trying to evacuate.

The feathery bowman aimed queerly off into the woods, leading some unseen entity that was clearly attempting to flee, and released his arrow before lowering the bow, satisfied. Unbothered by the scene before him. No noise was heard after the arrow left the clearing, but the Captain had his answer. 'Just like his sister… Well no, but I think I'm allowed to be a little frustrated…' The Captain said to himself.

They couldn't afford to split their forces to attack both enemies at once, even though the attack from the Captain had landed, there was no evidence that Brute was even injured. Seemingly every strike by these two was lethal if it connected. They had abilities that beggared the imagination, who knew what else they may be capable of. While the Downfall of Castle and Country may be able to brainwash one of the two, with how incongruous with the world they are, it would be a gamble. Even having lady Kaire within range was too risky, he was glad they were apparently unaware of the nature of the targets they were allowing to escape. 'Those crows are sure to keep an eye on them though, this is bad…' With a note of finality he spoke to Time Turbulence.

"Do it!"

"Right!" Time Turbulence replied immediately.

The world froze.

Time Turbulence is a strange codename for a fencer, anyone would agree, but he was not only a fencer, he was a talent holder of incredible power. His talent allowed him to freeze time. To date none of the strongest demihumans, powerful casters, vicious undead, or even the extra seat of the Black Scripture herself could resist the spell-like ability. That is why he was the second seat. There were drawbacks though, the ability could only be activated once every 100 hours reliably, trying to use it more often resulted in an exponential chance of failure, paired with some form of psychic damage to the young man. During training, he was able to cast it three times in quick succession before passing out and being comatose for almost a week. Also, time would only be frozen as long as he could concentrate. Through extensive practice and meditation, he could keep the ability activated for about three minutes before the strain broke him. The third, and most damning caveat was that you could not attack someone while time was frozen, they'd tried everything they could conceive but attempting to attack a living thing, with sword or sorcery, simply failed. It is strange how the world works.

The workaround for this final issue was ingenious in design, complementary of the Baharuth Empire. Thanks to its dedication to arcanine pursuits, the development of conditionally activated and time released spell modifiers was discovered. The Empire primarily used these to keep the magical devices they created from being tampered with by those who would attempt to copy their work. Their commodities could do such things as brand the thief and alert the appropriate authorities, to explode into fireballs. The Windflower Scripture immediately brought this information to the Slane Theocracy upon its discovery.

Time Turbulences' drilling guided his actions. After visually confirming that the two opponents were unable to resist being frozen, he reached into his infinite haversack to withdraw two bandoliers and a number of specially designed scrolls, each scroll was wrapped in different colored bands, signifying different intervals of time between activation and implementation of the spell. The lighter the band the shorter the duration, with white being the shortest at a 15 seconds delay, and red the longest at 2 minutes. He also removed the stopwatch from its place at his shoulder. The stopwatch was normal in every aspect except it was designed to chime once every 15 seconds while in use. He picked five scrolls bearing yellow bands, and five bearing orange, 30 and 45 seconds respectively. This would be an excessive number of scrolls for anything other than a dragon, but in all his time fighting alongside The Captain, he'd never seen anything survive his first strike. He attached thread to the tab each scroll was designed to accommodate and placed them into the bandolier. Once he placed one around the Pigmans neck he would pull the thread, activating the scrolls and starting the stopwatch's countdown. He would have 15 seconds to place the second bandaller on the birdman, at the 15th second he'd pull the string connected to all of those scrolls. That would give him 29 seconds to run. on the 30th second he'd release his ability. The other three members of the Scripture present would die in the explosion but hopefully so would the two demi-humans.

As he approached the boarman he heard a noise, similar to a voice. It sounded like an echo but instead of starting at one point and traveling outward, it seemed to come from everywhere at once and coalesce at one point nearby. A point behind and above him.

"Hello."

Time Turbulence swiveled on his heel, dropped the shoulder-belts, and re-drew his rapier now facing the forest that was at his back. To his dismay, something was standing on a tree limb well off the ground at the edge of the clearing. While it appeared frozen like everyone else, it had undoubtedly spoken.

A green cloak covered the entirety of its thin body, which loomed comfortably at well over two meters, a hood covered its head. Its face, if it had one, was concealed by a white porcelain circle. Either etched into or painted onto the mask was a caricature of a face, simple lines created an open mouth upturned into a smile, and where eyes should have peered through, two radiant bands of light crossed one another, glowing softly.

In that moment, something in the young fencer broke. The powerful aura of even Zesshi Zetsumei was dwarfed, no it was negligible, compared to the radiating power that this eldritch abomination produced. The efforts of a forced breath against a hurricane. The being only looked a little unusual, but the poor boy could feel the limitless and terrible power concealed within the creature. It was as if the cloak was a curtain and if it pulled back the very laws of the universe would be exposed, like the hands of a puppet show laid bare. He fell to his knees, the spell ended, he wept openly, the smell of ammonia permeated the air, mixing with the char and blood from Myriad Banner's corpse.

"A bit of time dilation is great for story telling, but being able to bring all of creation to a standstill is something I cannot condone."

The voice was a multitude, both low and high in pitch, it took some effort to understand. The pressure the being had generated, which brought the child to his sorry state, had dissipated with the spell, none of the remaining Scripture could ever comprehend the despair it had caused. They only saw its result. Time Turbulence fell onto his side and curled up into a ball, he rasped between sobs.

"Dream»‡Œ¤?" 'Phil' seemed to speak the thing's name, but part of it seemed incompatible with the concept of language. "It's been a while." He held a neutral expression, if somewhat tense. The Captain surmised they were not necessarily allies, but that didn't mean this new factor wasn't a threat.

"Indeed it has, Philza. The same to you Technoblade."

The Captain realized he was now encircled. He doubted the new arrival was any less powerful than the other two, considering the state of Time Turbulence. Once he was captured he would have to fall back on the curse he and every member of the Theocracies government and Scriptures had placed on them. No matter what, he'd only be able to answer three questions under duress before the curse killed him instantly and reduced his body to ash so that only the most powerful form of known resurrection magic, that the Theocracy had, could bring him back to life. He just had to make sure he was the only one captured.

"W-we surrender. If you let what's left of my team leave unscathed and unfollowed, I'll do whatever you say. I'll answer any questions. That's what you wanted to begin with right?"

The three Inhumans looked at one another. Unnervingly, in some false facsimile of a child or dog tilting their head to the side in confusion, the mask of the newcomer swiveled around its center point, but the head itself remained unmoving, and The Captain could sense he was its focus.

"Dream å†√•, did you teleport us here? What's up with their equipment? I've never seen anything like it." Philza inquired, gesturing to what remained of the elite task force of a proud nation.

"I am unsure what happened, actually. Something being unknown to me is quite the novelty, so I have yet to attempt to rectify the situation. I can, however, say with certainty that this is not our world, I believe that answers most of your questions."

"How can you be sure?" Technoblade asked as he shifted his gaze, without having moved, the hooded figure was now standing on the ground next to Time Turbulence, his stature apparent. The Thing was even within reach of the Captains spear, but with how fast he'd seemed to move, it seemed like a foolish idea to commit to a strike.

"Attempting to teleport to any places of note from our old world immediately fails. Teleporting among the others who were also brought here occurs without issue. The abilities of this world's inhabitants are foreign to me, such as this boy's ability to freeze time. Among other things. It appeared he was about to attach bomb vests to the two of you. A cheap trick to be sure. I am simply here to rectify the situation."

A gloved hand drifted from out of the green cloak, no arm connected it to the being and the cloak closed again behind it. It rested on the boy's head, his miniscule tophat having fallen off. At the touch the boy's eyes shot open and he attempted to push himself deeper into the dirt to get away from the creature standing over him.

There was the distant sound of a crack, like thunder on a cosmic scale. 'Dream_' lifted the disembodied hand again, and it disappeared within the folds of his garment.

Time Turbulence still lay shaking and gasping for air between sobs. Apparently no worse for wear.

"What'd you do?" Asked Philza with palpable worry in his voice.

'What is that thing capable of that these monsters would feel bad for someone, who they were just about to kill, simply for being touched by it?' The Captain pondered.

"Just took away his pesky little power, the terror will also probably subside at some point, or not. He may be enfeebled forever as I was a bit angry when I first appeared before him, encroaching on my right to manipulate the fabric of spacetime is a pet peeve of mine."

"Ah I see, well thank you very much." Philza and Technobade both gave bows, with weapons held over their chests, toward the pillar of green fabric and porcelain.

"Umu. Yes, well goodb-"

"Oh! Before you go, can you whip us up a thunderstorm?" Inquired the avian, as casually as one might ask their friend to buy fresh bread on the way home. "I think it would help the mood."

"Hmm, that would be nice." Added the Pigman.

The fixture stood silent for a moment, without a visible face it was hard to guess what emotion it was feeling, if any. All at once the sky was blocked out by a thick layer of clouds that sprawled in every direction all the way to the horizon. Sheets of rain poured down over all of creation. Everyone but the green cloaked creature was immediately soaked to the bone. In the distance, lightning struck.

"Ah, that's good stuff! Thank you again." The birdman shouted over the downpour.

There was no casting, no movement of any kind, it merely nodded and was gone again. The two visibly relaxed.

"Isekai huh? That's a first for me. He mentioned the others were here too. I suppose that means my oldest is around. I'll have to check up on him, he hasn't been stable for quite some time, I doubt all this will help him." The Birdman looked upward rubbing his chin. His hat deflected the rain water from his eyes.

"The conditions of your surrender are total, knowing what we do now you all seem like valuable bargaining chips. If you all have abilities similar to that boy's, that is." The Pigman was not so distracted. He spoke firmly, there was no room for discussion, which meant the battle would continue.

The Captain breathed deeply, seemingly ready to admit defeat. "Scatter!"

The three remaining members all dashed in different directions, making sure to avoid charging toward lady Kaire and the others. They had no expectations of actually escaping, The Captain determined this would be the best method to give the 1000 Leagues Astrologer, Divine Chant, and lady Kaire a little more time to run.

Knowing the nature of drawing a bow, Strongest Man charged in the direction of the Birdman, hoping to strike him before he could get another shot off, then continue fleeing through the woods. He would have preferred to try and fight the big guy one on one, but orders were orders, and to be honest he didn't feel very confident after seeing the Pigman come out, seemingly unscathed, from an attack by five members of the Black Scripture.

Philza also seemed to understand the barbarians choice and the longbow in his hand was immediately replaced by the cane he'd carried earlier, this time however it was revealed that an enchanted blade was held within it. He also held a shield, similar to the kind the pigman bore, down to the odd insignia. He approached, his movements were that of a serpent or a feline. Though one wing was mangled and he was drenched thoroughly, he seemed unaffected by these handicaps and easily blocked or dodged the various attacks levied at him.

Divine chain turned to sprint southward, he saw Strongest Man charging the Birdman to the east, the direction they'd been traveling, in lovely weather, not ten minutes ago. 'How depressing.' Being the group's second best rogue, after Heaven and Earth, he had the lowest chance of failure in attempting to escape, if it weren't for all the crows tracking his every move that is. He was one of the newest appointed seats of the Black Scripture, after Windstrides defection. While this didn't mean he was any less devoted than the others, or any less powerful, he was ever the pessimist. 'The things the Cardinals ask us to do have always been extreme, but I knew we should have brought Zesshi with us. Even if we weren't supposed to run into these two freaks, they still wanted us to fight a dragon lord without her… Maybe The Captain still has that sealing crystal?'

Strongest Man fielded several powerful but slow strikes against the agile birdman. Trying to learn what he could about his opponent, while feeding him false information, so that he could surprise him when the opportunity arose. His fighting style was unusual, the birdman never blocked with his blade, always moving his shield into position for a strike, then dodging the next several, no matter what part of his body the mountain of a man attacked. He also favored attacking from above, perhaps a holdover from when he could fly, as he would often use nearby trees or simply leap toward his opponent, as if pulled by a string, in order to conduct an overhead strike. He also seemed to enjoy taking a break between striking lunges, never for longer than a moment but it was most certainly a noticeable pattern.

The harpys' attacks were relentless, but predictable. All the hulking man had to do was pretend to barely dodge a strike, occasionally fein a slow attack to keep the demi-human interested, and wait for an opening to use his special attack. Similar to the lightning fast six direction attack that the brutish warrior known as Gagaran so famously utilizes, the Strongest Man's attack was a more powerful variation, due to his lack of restricting armor, additional use of martial arts, and overall more powerful physique. When successfully executed he could strike an opponent 9 times at once, from as many angles. As the battle went on his confidence increased. 'I may even be able to capture this one alive, if he survives, they'd have to bump me up a seat or two in that case.' He grinned.

The opening came, he planted his forefoot down hard into the mud and swung his massive axe at unthinkable speeds. Having seen the very obvious change in attack style, a potion was flung to the ground from the birdman's hand in between the two fighters. It broke and both were immediately engulfed in a cloud of some noxious gas.

'I guess I got lucky, I've been saved for dessert.' The tattooed chain wielder sighed as he realized he was not being pursued by either of the powerful foes, yet. 'Still, I'll bet that birdman doesn't even need to see me to hit me with his bow, if I could just take out these fucking crows…' Regardless, he used his skill as an assassin to keep his footprints from appearing in the mud as he ran.

Strongest Man ignored the smell and within a moment his assault had both begun and ended. Nine consecutive blows by an enchanted axe weighting at over 40 kilograms, five times heavier than even the largest battle axes used by the average soldier. The speed and force caused the potions cloud to swirl in what would be considered beautiful patterns, under different circumstances. As the cloud was cleared by the heavy rain, the titan expected to see a minced pile of feathers and cloth drenched in blood. It was then he noticed something was off, he felt incredibly hardy. The surge of adrenaline that he felt during the execution of his attack had not allowed him to realize it in the moment, but his skin, which had often been compared to steel by those he spared with, felt five times stronger than it had been before. He was extremely confused but as the cloud cleared and the birdman stood before him, he realized what had happened. He'd thrown the potion onto the ground because he didn't have time to drink it, they were both buffed due to the cloud it produced. It was something like the 4th tier druidic spell stone skin.

His opponent appeared completely unscathed, something he'd forgotten might happen, considering the same happened with the Captain's blow, but he could see in the birdman's eyes a look of exhaustion, he was definitely wounded. He was drinking a small steel cup of something, he then proceeded to jump backward, well out of the Strongest Man's range.

He would have to close the distance and finish what he started, giving his opponent any time to recuperate what a foolish decision. Just as that thought crossed his mind the enemy casually pulled, out of nowhere, a glistening apple. It looked like it was covered in gold. He held it up toward the muscle bound man in a toast and took a bite.

As he chewed he said, "That was actually pretty close, nicely done. I was waiting for you to show off a bit, I'm guessing you're pretty tough relative to the average person, right? Attacking nine times at once is a neat trick."

Why was he giving the demihuman time to banter, and surely heal his wounds with that strange fruit? His body wasn't listening to him. In his mind he was attempting to lunge at the man, to finish him off. His body was moving in slow motion. The 'stone' of the stoneskin spell was not supposed to impede your movements, what was this?

He'd only taken two steps toward the winged creature before it finished the apple. "Do you not carry any anti-poison?" He asked light-heartedly, another potion appeared in his hand. He promptly drank it and appeared to almost vibrate with energy.

"It's not a spell?" Asked Strongest Man with great effort, now reaching to the pouch on his hip containing his utility items. He owned a ring of poison resistance but generally didn't have it equipped because he couldn't drink with it on. The winged man's blue eyes saw the satchel and he grinned mischievously.

The harpy moved with grace now magnified by the potion and by the fact the behemoth was hampered. He cut away the pouch that Strongest Man had been reaching for, tossing it into the air where a crow caught it and disappeared among the branches. Then, flying past him bouncing off of the trees like a demonic toad, he pierced his boots to cut the tendons in his ankles, and slipped around his armored shoulders to sever the tendons once hidden there, on and on. The wounds were only exactly as deep as they needed to be. The added defense of the potion was useless when weak points were being targeted, all the while he felt like he was encased in honey, unable to even track his opponent. Soon he collapsed into the mud, relatively uninjured, but paralyzed nonetheless.

As he lay there, he spotted Heaven and Earth resting at the base of a nearby tree. To a normal human it may have seemed like he was taking a nap, but Strongest Man's heightened sense allowed him to know the truth. 'Ah, so that's where he went.'

The Captain of the Strongest force of the Slane Theocracy ran north in a dead sprint, easily weaving among the trees, cursing under his breath as he passed the corpse of One Man Army, pinned to a tree by an arrow at the base of his neck, nearly half a kilometer from the clearing. He had a much larger issue at the moment. Matching him step for step, moving through the forest, over dense foliage, mud, and dead tree trunks, the beastman silently followed.

The monster was not silent as it moved per se, the rustle of leaves or occasional splash of water did reach the Captains ears, what he could not hear, even with his highly attuned senses, was anything akin to panting. This level of exertion was far and above even the rigorous training of the Scriptures. The Captain would need to rest after a few more kilometers at this pace, but the looming creature was closing the distance with each step, and seemed unfazed.

Divine Chain shot out of the woods into an open meadow with a gasp of relief, but did not stop. Paradoxical as the idea of losing cover being a comfort may seem, this way he'd be able to see and kill any crows that continued to track him. Believing there were only a handful. As the murder rose from the woodlands though, he continued to curse his luck.

They were countless. If the sky was not already blackened due to the freak thunderstone, it would have been by the cloud of crows that filled the air a comfortable distance behind the fleeing man. The cawing also began then, a hideous discordance that, to the exasperated warrior, sounded more and more like cackling the longer it droned on.

The laughing became clearer, then there was a ringing. The whorling of wind. He chanced a glimpse at what he was sure could only be bad news. It was at this moment that he saw a whirling vortex of water and feathers slam into his torso, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to tumble head over heels in the tall grass. More angry than anything, he simply stared at the looming figure, who touched the middle prong of a trident to the base of his neck.

"Just relax for me friend, there has been enough violence for the day, if we all just play nice I'm sure no one else will get hurt." The calm smile, the eyes that appeared almost closed from the lifted cheeks, it all infuriated the mud covered chain-wielder.

"I yield." He said and calmly moved his hands into the air. The one closest to the birdman was grabbed and used to pull the man to his feet.

"Good man, follow me then." Without any apparent care that the Divine Chain is his enemy, the warrior turned on his heel and began walking back to where the confrontation started. There was no logic to resisting, alone he was certainly outclassed, so he simply compiled.

The Captain was getting tired now, the prolonged dead sprint was taking its toll but the Beastman remained close behind. 'Now that we are isolated I may have a chance, but the Cardinals will have to forgive me from using a relic of the gods on a single opponent.' As he ran he withdrew a large sealing crystal, within it was the most powerful ArcAngel that magic could hope to summon.

He crushed the crystal in his hand and a flash of light enveloped the two. At that time The Captain turned and prepared to intercept the Beastman, he did not want to let him leave the Archangels range. The two stood silently, the massive white, winged , and wonderful creature hovered between them, if the sudden flash had impaired the Pigmans vision, he could not tell.

"This is the ArcAngel Dominion Authority, the most powerful summon of the six great gods. You have no hope to defeat it. Surrender or die." Even as he spoke the pigman backed up several steps, his eyes moving between the Captain and the Summon with equal caution.

"Heh?" The noise was somewhat undignified, almost comical, as it escaped the snout of the Beastman. The rain battered them all equally. "Well I don't intend to do either of those, but I trust it is as powerful as you say, which is quite unfortunate…" The refined air of the Hogman returned immediately. "I'll have to counter with one of my own, a true shame we aren't a populated area."

Similar to the liquid metal that dripped from his hands before, black sand poured out from his palm and a vortex of dark energy coalesced into a three headed creature that appeared frozen in space for a time, seemingly gathering energy with which to destroy its enemies. It was the kind of monster parents wouldn't tell their children about, lest they never sleep again. Its three bare skulls rested above a large rib cage that terminated in a coccyx that was suspended a meter above the ground, all of it was charred as if pulled from hell itself. The empty eye sockets radiated an intense rage at the world and every living thing that crawled upon it. Being so close to it caused the Captain's blood to freeze.

'That thing is evil-aligned or I will eat my spear.' He thought, "Dominion Authority, use [Holy Smite]!" He gasped out, surprised by how shaken he was just from the weight of the unknown monster's presence. He had to destroy it before it could move, surely it was most vulnerable while accumulating strength.

The golden trident within the many winged ArcAngles hands shattered into thousands of motes of light and encircled the holy being like a halo. The sigil that acted as its face glowed brightly and from the heavens a beam of radiant light blasted the area around the undead abomination, bathing it in holy light. The Pigman had continued his retreat all the while, so he was unfortunately not within the radius of the spell.

The attack only lasted about 10 seconds, but it felt like an eternity to the Captain. 'Come on… Come on…' He waited with baited breath, hoping to watch the slowly waking monsters' visages crack and be reduced to ash.

It did not happen.

"I probably should have warned you!" The Pigman shouted, still drawing away. "It's invulnerable until it's ready to attack."

"Well that isn't fai-"

There was a violent rush of air, a blastwave, the ground around the monster had been subject from an extreme force, Dominion Authority too, recoiled and was pushed away by the blast that seemed to be the excess of accumulated power that the Summon could not properly contain. The explosion was accompanied by a shriek. One that the Captain, Divine Chain, Divine chant, the 1000 Leagues Astrologer, Last Kaire, and one poor hunter who had wandered far too deeply into the woods, would never forget, one that would follow them into their nightmares, one that would forever leave a ringing in their ears, that no amount of ale would drown out.