When Blaze and GreyThroat arrived at the frontlines, the scene before them was a catastrophic tableau of urban destruction. Roads were torn apart, with rubble cascading into the exposed bowels of the sewers below. Above this devastation loomed the Mountain of Smiling Bodies—a grotesque titan of melted corpses towering as tall as the buildings it mercilessly plowed through. Its limbs, as large as cars and tougher than steel, smashed down on the beleaguered figures that dared to challenge its rampage. The mouths adorning these limbs emitted a chilling mix of screams, laughs, and giggles, forming an incomprehensible and horrific cacophony that chilled the bone.
From various grotesque mouths, blasts of caustic vomit erupted, spewing forth with deadly accuracy. This vile secretion ate through bitumen, concrete, and metal with horrifying ease, adding another layer of peril to the already dire situation. The air around them was thick with the sounds of explosions, as casters from both the LGD and RI unleashed an onslaught of Arts in a desperate attempt to halt the creature's advance.
Scout paused in his relentless firing to brief Blaze and GreyThroat on the current situation. "The plan is to drive it toward areas that have already been evacuated," he shouted over the din of combat. "Then, we'll try to push it off the landship into the wasteland below. Hopefully, the city's cannons can finish it off there."
Blaze, her chainsaw revving with a menacing buzz, nodded sharply. "Got it." Her voice was a gravelly roar, barely audible over the chaos.
GreyThroat, her crossbow at the ready, scanned the surroundings with a sharp eye. "What about the Rat King and the Yeti Squad? Where are they positioned?" she asked, calculating the best vantage point for her shots.
"They're attacking from the other side," Scout replied, reloading his air rifle with practiced ease. "We're hoping to pincer it. Keep it disoriented and under constant pressure."
Blaze cracked her knuckles, a fierce gleam in her eyes. "Time to show this monster what happens when it messes with Rhodes Island. GreyThroat, cover me!"
GreyThroat nodded, positioning herself behind a half-collapsed wall. Her eyes narrowed as she took aim, her fingers steady despite the pounding of her heart. "On your mark, Blaze."
As Blaze charged forward, her chainsaw cutting a harsh, metallic symphony through the air, GreyThroat's shots whistled through the battlefield, each bolt finding its mark in the soft, fleshy mouths of the titan. The creature roared, its movements becoming erratic as it faced assaults from multiple angles.
Blaze's chainsaw tore into the tar-like flesh of the monstrous entity with violent force. Her arts supercompressed the air, creating explosive bursts along the path of her cuts, showering sparks and ichor in every direction. As a spiked tendril shot towards her, Blaze ducked swiftly, but not swiftly enough to avoid a gash across her cheek. Unfazed, she utilized the flowing blood, combusting it and channeling the fiery energy back into her weapon, enhancing its destructive power.
Chi Xiao cut and cut and cut, blazing a baleful red. Ch'en didn't even have time to curse, focusing on maintaining her breathing as she fought. Each blow from the monster was enough to cripple or kill. Nearby, a dark blur that was Roland smashed through the facade of a nearby building. He recovered just as quickly, blasting back into the fray with a surge of speed that was inhuman. Torn and bleeding, his suit shredded in several places, he continued to attack at a ferocious rate, seemingly indefatiguable. A lance piercing deep into flesh, sabres slashing faster than her eye can follow, bullets shooting out eyes, creating temporary blindspots. He didn't block, instead slipping into attacks and dodging, every action leading into an counterattack. The mantle of darkness that covered his form also coated his weapons, magnifying their blows. Ace was maneuvering strategically, using his arts to redirect the monster's blows back onto itself, creating openings for Ch'en to exploit. Together, they orchestrated a relentless assault, yet the creature's regenerative abilities were formidable. Wounds sprouted new, hungry mouths, and severed limbs reattached themselves, enhancing its grotesque form.
On another front, FrostNova, her teeth gritted in concentration, used her arts to flash-freeze and shatter a lunging head. The extensive use of her powers, however, was taking a toll on her, exacerbating her oripathy. She could feel crystals piercing through her skin, a painful reminder of the cost of her efforts. The environment around her turned into a chilling landscape of ice, her squad supporting her as she fought back against the relentless advance of the creature.
All the while the Mountain of Smiling Bodies grew. It had never consumed this many corpses and grew to such an extent. And some of the corpses were infected, their remains containing high concentrations of originium. The abnormality developed even further. A mouth opened and a blast of force came roaring out, Lin Yühsia dispersed it with shards of glass ripped from an office building, her father blasting the offending limb with sand, flensing away flesh and bone. Still, the abnormality grew and grew, now the height of skyscrapers and much battlefield was a nightmarish vision of thousands of eyes and hundreds of stinking limbs, a demonic entity that seemed unstoppable.
Just as hope began to falter, a new voice crackled through the comms. "Operator Rosmontis, in position." From her vantage point, the young feline operator manipulated massive chunks of rubble, compressing it into jagged points that lifted into the air and drilled mercilessly into the creature. With visible strain, she pushed the mountainous abomination towards the edge of the landship.
Never had Rosmontis been forced to push her arts to such an extent. As she exerted herself, the attacks intensified, and slowly but surely, the mountain of smiling bodies was pushed to the brink of the landship. The creature, sensing the imminent danger, began to root itself, sending masses of its grotesque form deep underground in a desperate bid to anchor itself and resist the relentless push.
Amid the chaos of the battlefield, a profound realization swept through Roland. The surging emotions he felt were akin to those experienced in the Library, where collected Light resonated with emotions, transforming them into tangible strength. This mountain of corpses before him, a grotesque mirror of his own past rampages, slaughtered without purpose, senselessly accumulating death as he once had in the days following the Library's collapse. Back then, he had swung his sword relentlessly, each strike a desperate attempt to bury his mounting guilt beneath the bodies of the fallen.
His past was before him, and he would not lose to it.
Rings of Light began to encircle the edge of Durandal, pulsing with the force of his emotions. With each beat, his strength and speed surged exponentially. In a breathtaking display of prowess, Roland unleashed a flurry of attacks so rapid they seemed to occur simultaneously, each strike fueled by the depth of his emotional turmoil and newfound resolve.
With a tremendous force born of desperation and clarity, he smashed the grotesque abnormality over the edge of the landship. Even as they plummeted toward the ground below, Roland did not cease his assault. He continued to slice and cut into the creature, each blow delivered with the precision and ferocity honed by years of conflict. The dirt kicked up into a massive cloud upon their impact, enveloping them in a dense, obscuring haze.
Despite the ferocity of Roland's onslaught, the creature's vast mass allowed it some measure of evasion, potentially enough to survive the impending bombardment from the city's defenses. Roland felt his EGO flickering, the strain of maintaining such intensity threatening to overwhelm him. He knew he couldn't sustain this level of combat much longer.
In that critical moment, the teachings of Iori and the overwhelming attacks of the Red Mist flashed through his mind. He needed one final, devastating strike to end this. Gathering every ounce of his strength and channeling the resonant energy of his emotions into Durandal, Roland prepared for one last, overwhelming slash aimed at annihilating the enemy entirely.
Roland swung down with all the force he could muster. Durandal cut through the air with a power that seemed to split the very atmosphere.
The impact was monumental, a cataclysmic release of energy that resonated across the Mountain
of Smiling Bodies have been spilt in two, matter crumbling to nothing. A vast chasm had been gouged into the earth, the crack a scar upon the landscape.
And Durandal... the sword had changed, a covering of black flesh and teeth coating it.
Exhausted, Roland dropped to his knees and fell unconscious.