The second block commenced within the great Mali Wastes, the people of Aureatia mulling over a choice they would only face once within their entire lifetime: A duel between the former first party and notorious nightmare? or between the enigmatic folktale and godlike singularity?
And thus, the day of the match came.
Spectators gathered together to watch one of the beginnings of the legendary true duels, as the ominous God's Skyboulder hovered down towards the earth below.
"Well, isn't this a sight to see…" the First Minister of Aureatia, Grasse the Foundation Map, chuckled lightly as he watched through a miniature telescope, a product of the Beyond.
"...a flying house."
A dry comment meant solely for the intent of lightening the tense mood. The tiny figure sitting on his shoulder also gave a mirthful laugh.
"Woo hee hee hee! I can't seem to stay still at all! My old bones are itching for some fun~!"
Grasse almost rolled his eyes, bemused at his old friend. Even when Grasse was a child, the tiny gnome had always loved a good time.
As per treaty with the nation of the North, eight hero candidates were selected from their surviving states, an insidious tactic to gain control of Aureatia. In order to combat the infiltrating threat, Rosclay himself made sure that the bracket listing was as far away from his faction as possible. The eighth minister Sheanek the Word Intermediary then paired each Northern hero with one selected by the twenty-nine officials. They will ensure that none of the North's Shura will ever make it to the second round.
Grasse stood up from the seat of his carriage, carrying Tikkik along. The old gnome was nearly vibrating out of excitement, constantly adjusting his monocle as it kept on moving out of place. The gnome, of course, had the full confidence to back his arrogance, as Grasse himself knew the almighty power of his time manipulation.
"Oooh, I really hope Ozma can give me a good fight! it's been ages, I tell ye~! I'm just soooo bored!"
"Sure, sure. You'll get a good match. Just make sure not to break it too quickly, all right? We want to earn some betting money, after all."
"Woo hee hee hee! I won't be making no promises~!"
"Really, you shou– isn't the God's Skyboulder getting a lot bigger?"
The construct was massive. From Grasse's own estimations, it would be around the size of a Minian complex. Steam appeared to rise up to the air as the machine finally landed upon the ground, which groaned against the structure's sheer mass. The enigmatic cube was at the forefront of folklore, its metal continuously ringing within the peak of the Arboreal Sky Spire.
Their size seemed only to be beaten by the Horizon's Roar. But Grasse did not waver; Tikkik's word arts would surely make his victory guaranteed.
"Hey hey, Grasse! After this match, you gotta play with me again, ye hear?!"
"Sure, sure. As long as you win your match."
"That's a promise then!"
And thus, the Sixways Exhibition commenced, the setting sun bringing forth the greatest of omens. A legend will fall, shifting the course of the fabric of history.
Tikkik the Timekeeper versus Ozma the God's Skyboulder.
...
"…g-g0dd mm1t" Ozma was scared.
The Timekeeper was its first opponent in the exhibition. A godlike ability in its first match. Its digital face, a simplistic design of two eyes and a mouth, scanned the horizon, picking up the signatures of two figures, one of which whom it had to defeat.
Its mind continued to shift through a multitude of strategies, creating thousands of blueprints for potential artifacts to assemble. Its obsessed concentration came to a halt when it heard the clearing of a throat.
"he hem, Helloooo Ooozmaa, are you awaaaake?!"
Ozma really hated that singsong voice of his.
"hey heeey, Oozmaaaa the match already staarted, y'know! Beauty sleep's over, Ozzy-boy~"
"…5hu7 1t"
"oh my my, Ozzy-boy, you were awake! It wouldn't be fun if I fought you in your sleep~"
"V1 Vl#3r]j1 Vky( 1?wq2. Vwa1purj V0nwq. V2$j5we V02edey–" (Fr0m 02m 70 th3 G0d'5 5kyb0uld3r. C $t1e's v u1t. 3nv3l0p3 nd d35tr0y–)
Ozma had initiated its defense protocol. Every part of its massive body opened up, and weapons of all appearances and abilities flooded out of every crevice, all targeted towards the minuscule minia.
"–V30) ." (–BUNK3R-6B8)
Magic missiles. Magic bullets. Enchanted armaments. Even lightning and amplified light all rained down on the old gnome. The heavens itself appeared to wage war upon the mischievous technician. But just before the weapons reached their target–
"Tilgt Tvtkp–" (O World–)
It was a simple statement. A minuscule amount of words. Yet all of creation bended to his will, an omnipotence reaching the realm of the gods.
"Tkikljgk" (–Be Still)
And the world became silent.
Tikkik twirled his mustache in disappointment, he alone was able to move as everyone stood motionless.
He looked upon the tidal wave of weaponry upon him. Scanning upwards, he slowly paced to the nearest artifacts.
"...enchanted blades…magic arboreal bullets…weapons from the Beyond…"
The technician smiled widely as an impish idea flashed through his mind.
Quickly, he flicked every armament that he could touch, positioning them back in the vicinity of their creator—close enough to barely graze the gremlin. He then walked towards the structure before him, taking markers from his pocket while giggling to himself.
Reaching the construct, he began to draw upon the artificer's face.
"There, Ozzy-boy, you look like such a gentleman~"
Tikkik then returned to his previous position, moving away far enough to avoid the other projectiles.
"Tilgt Tvtkp–"(O World–)
And thus time resumed, with a different present.
"–Tytklp"(Continue Onwards)
...
Missiles, bullets, blades, all of them were redirected towards the artificer, each armament grazing its user by mere millimeters. Ozma, in panic, was reminded of the technician's overwhelming power. The gnome could end the fight at any moment he wished to.
Its digital face made an expression of shock, only changing once it realized that something was blocking parts of its sense receptors.
"What d1d y0u d0–"
From its substitute visual receptors, Ozma was able to gaze upon its modified face, now with both a monocle and mustache in the attempts of a posh visage.
"Woo hee hee! Ozzy-boy, I had to dress you up for the occasion~ You were standing so still, so I got bored~"
The gnome failed to cover his laugh and held out his hand during his mirthful fit.
"Three times~ I'll defend for three attacks, and then I'll get serious~! I hope you can stop me by then! Oh, and by the way, that counted as one~"
Ozma did not respond; instead, it continued its formulation of the second phase of its plan. If quick reflexes were unable to beat Tikkik's word arts, then it would need to test another theory…
Ozma secretly incanted his word arts in advance.
"V1 Vl#3r]j1 Vky( 1?wq2. Vcflp*1y Vrq=wd. Vh% V1s*. V-ghfrw3." (Fr0m 02ma 70 th3 G0d'5 5kyb0uld3r. D33p3n1ng M0at. C0rr0$1v3 V0rac1ty. VXN3RV3-C11H26NO2PS)
After his discreet incantation, Ozma began assembling another artifact with the God's Skyboulder.
"...Ooozzy-booy~ why the long wait~? Hurry up and give me something more fun~!"
Ozma was afraid, but it ignored the ancient gnome's teasing and completed the finishing touches of his new artifact. Out of all the weaponry, the gnome didn't redirect the lightning and light projectiles…
"...Hav3 t h1m, SP1KA."
The God's Skyboulder rumbled, and a new armament was born.
What emerged from the construct was a small cube, unremarkable in appearance. But as it homed in towards the target, light began to torrent outwards, flooding the area with a blinding illumination. Tikkik curiously stood in place as the cube opened, creating a luminous cage completely entrapping him.
"Hmmm~ Woo hee hee hee! Ozzy-boy, I knew you wouldn't disappoint me!"
"...$urr3nd3r, 71kk1k. 0r y0u'11 d13."
Immediately after Ozma's threat, the luminous cage, SP1KA, began to close in around Tikkik. It's radiating light began to singe Tikkik's clothes. However, the gnome continued to laugh, unperturbed by his situation.
"Nuh-uh-uh, Ozzy-boy! The fun's just beginning! I can't just ditch a good time!"
Ozma began to recite his word arts, with a few modifications:
"Tilgt io Tkreezp–" (O World[SP1KA])
And once again, even Ozma's creation obeyed Tikkik's commands.
"Tkrtotv" (Turn Back).
The luminous light dissipated, spilling back into the reversing artifact. It then sped back towards its creator, landing on top of Ozma's ejection port.
"..."
"Woo hee hee hee! I never said anything about only using time stop, Ozzy-boy~ and why would you trust li'l old me?"
While the gnome continued to laugh, Ozma continued its plan.
1'm - 1'm $c r3d. 1'm $c r3d. 1'm $c r3d. 1'll d13.
Though its mind flooded with terror, it once again recited its word arts.
"V1 Vl#3r]j1 Vky( 1?wq2. = Vii3eo9 *. V#3ebkvn Vi03# k. Vh*#o$ 89u5-o/2." (Fr0m 02ma 70 th3 G0d'5 5kyb0uld3r. D3$c3nd1ng 70w3r. $i13nc1ng Lak3. HD-CHClS.)
Unbeknownst to the merry gnome, a colorless and odorless vapor leaked out of the God's Skyboulder.
"...1 w1$h 1 had $0m3 mandrak3 p01$0n, bu7 th1$ will d0."
"Hmm~? What do you– Kwek koff guak krk krk krk–"
Before the technician realized what Ozma had meant, the gnome lost his ability to breathe. Fluid flooded into his lungs, and blisters emerged throughout his body. Tikkik had collapsed.
Within the realm of the Beyond, this substance had turned the tides of war, achieving casualties at the hundreds of thousands. Bringing terror upon the frontier, it was an armament both lethal and horrifying. Officially coined as dichlorodiethyl sulfide, it was also nicknamed the Yellow Cross, Pyro, S-LOST...
A terror amongst all chemical weapons, a sulfurous hell upon the world.
Mustard Gas.
...
"Kwek blrg koff koff–"
Tikkik couldn't breathe, nor speak. His skin was inflamed, reaching severe burns by the carcinogenic weapon. His lungs and throat were made raw and useless, the armament causing internal bleeding throughout his body. But he continued to smile, as the fight was so much fun.
Even without speaking, he still had upon him his trump card.
He slowly reached for his monocle. It was a complex design with a heavy clock motif, and most importantly, a gift from an old friend.
Thanks, Grasse. I owe you one.
Though it was an ordinary monocle, Tikkik had imbued it with a portion of his time manipulation.
Sluggishly, he began to adjust the hands upon the clock-like glassware, rotating it forward. With just a mere thought, the clock obeyed its master, once again shifting flow of phenomena.
Time shifted forward for the lethal vapor, degrading it to mere harmless particles. The chemical weapon dissipated, decaying with the sands of time. Only wisps of the horrid substance were left surrounding the gnome.
As the gnome pushed himself back up, he lightly chuckled at Ozma's panic-stricken face.
"...What else ye got, Ozzy boy~"
Ozma looked frantic, as if its plans were continuously formulated and scrapped.
"...Y0u'r3 a m0n$t3r"
"That's not very nice, Ozzy-boy"
Tikkik brushed the dirt off of his clothes, grinning madly.
"Playtime's over, Ozzy-boy. Time to get serious~"
Pointing his finger towards Ozma, he began to recite his overwhelming word arts.
"Tilgt io Tskbldr–" (O World[Skyboulder])
The worst possible outcome had faced Ozma. Tikkik's time manipulation could speed up the flow of time for any phenomenon. Including aging.
With the short lifespan of a gremlin, Ozma would die.
Quickly, Ozma acted.
"Twkspfd" (Please Hasten)
...
For twenty years, Ozma had spent its time within the forge of the God's Skyboulder. As the years passed, it was visited by adventurers, mercenaries– even a wyvern rogue. All had come because of its presence, and all had come demanding its relics.
Though it faced interruption, Ozma's drive throughout its life was to create an ultimate weapon, truly powerful enough to defeat the True Demon King. And thus, the ringing of steel emanated for a single, near unattainable dream.
A dream powerful enough to bet its life upon.
It had been said that no matter the attempts, one had always succumbed to the terror of the True Demon King before their plans came to fruition. Ozma had spent twenty years drowning in such fear.
Perhaps it was because of its machine-like state. Perhaps it was its extraordinary will for its crafts. No matter the reason, Ozma had survived through its madness while manufacturing an armament with no equal. Despite less than a decade left of its life, no one can truly doubt that…
Ozma was strong.
...
"... Oh ho~"
The gnome whistled, impressed, and surprised.
"~well, color me surprised…"
Half of Ozma's body was corroded with rust, nearing disintegration.
However. Ozma was alive.
"Y0u'r3 W0rd art$ ar3 ba$3d 0ff 1ocat10n, 1$n't 1t…"
The God's Skyboulder groaned, settling itself back into place.
"...7h3 mu$7ard ga$ away fr0m y0u d1dn'7 d1$$ipat3."
Before Tikkik had completed his word arts, The God's Skyboulder had moved.
In less than a second, propulsion thrusters emerged from the bottom of the cube, launching it past its original position. The gnome's word arts were unable to meet this sudden shift in trajectory, leaving only a part of the construct affected.
"Woo hee hee hee~ Ye found out my secret, Ozzy-boy! But what if I just do this~?"
Tikkik was able to use his word arts in combinations. If he stopped time, the artificer would have no means of escape. Tikkik would then be able to kill Ozma.
"Tilgt Tvtkp–" (O World–)
"...1 w0n't 1et y0u."
The God's Skyboulder groaned, but with its remaining power, released its trove of weapons once more.
A hail of missiles and bullets once again surrounded Ozma.
But it was too late.
"Tkikljgk" (–Be Still)
...
"hmmhmmm~ it was really fun, Ozma…"
Tikkik pushed away the now harmless weapons, creating a path towards the determined artificer.
As he walked by the assortment of enchanted objects, he finally faced the massive construct.
"...you were one hell of a fighter…"
Tikkik lifted his finger, pointing at the artificer's motionless face.
"..But I was stronger."
He began to recite the fatal blow, the end of the match nearing closer to fruition.
"Tilgt io Tskb– ?!" (O World[Skyb–)
Tikkik's finger drooped, twitching rapidly. The technician's muscles contracted erratically, and his leg gave way from the instability.
Collapsing with his back onto the ground, Tikkik clumsily convulsed like a rag doll.
The erratic contractions within his throat led its strained vessels to burst, leading him to cough blood.
"..p..oi..son?..blergh…h…o..w?.."
Tikkik couldn't move his joints, and his motor functions rapidly deteriorated.
He could no longer use his monocle.
The blood leaking within his throat, and his irregular spasming of its muscles had led to a mere rasp within his speech.
He could probably use his word arts only once before succumbing to the toxin.
He could either kill Ozma, or resume the flow of time. The gnome chose the latter without any hesitation.
Sorry Grasse, guess I can't play with you anymore.
With his dying breaths, Tikkik released his hold upon all phenomena.
"Tilgt Tvtkp–" (O World–)
A god's final miracle upon the planet.
"–Tytklp"(Continue Onwards)Without me)
...
Ozma stared downwards at the fallen technician. Despite his injuries, he smiled peacefully, even towards his death.
Before releasing the cage of light upon Tikkik, Ozma had secretly enchanted its weapons with a lethal toxin. The VX nerve agent was a substance fatal from even a single touch, causing a spasm of muscles unto its target. By moving Ozma's armaments within his time stop, Tikkik had unknowingly faced continued contact with the malignant chemical.
However, there were multiple reasons why this was a last resort.
The first would be Tikkik's status within his time stop. Tikkik could undoubtedly move, breathe, and see, meaning that there was at least a thin layer upon his body in which time continued onwards. However, Ozma can not confirm such theory, unable to be present within his word arts.
The second would be the flow of time. If Tikkik had died, then what would it mean for the continuance of all phenomena? Would they be stuck, unable to move forwards? Again, Ozma could not confirm such theory.
The final reason depended on Tikkik's own character, relating to the second reason. The VX nerve agent did not fully stop words from being spoken, meaning there was enough time for Tikkik to cast a single instance of word arts. He could either continue the flow of time, or aim to use his word arts to kill Ozma.
Ozma trusted that Tikkik would value the world much, much more.
"...7hank y0u…f0r spar1ng m3…"
Match one. Winner, Ozma the God's Skyboulder.