The Eight Swords

"So what do we do now?"

Raguel asked, having sprinted to Utra Castle the moment news of Sword God's death was confirmed.

Even viewed through her clairvoyance, the aftermath had looked dire — but seeing it in person, it was a catastrophe through and through.

The archangel Uriel dragged her hammer along behind her, muttering, 'Wow, they really are a pack of monsters…' while Sandalphon, who had arrived earlier, clicked his tongue and smacked his lips.

Sandalphon wound a strand of his curly short hair around his finger as he spoke.

"We can't do anything, Raguel. Go grab some popcorn."

"...Is that really what you have to say right now?"

As Raguel stared at him in disbelief, Sandalphon merely shrugged.

"Was it not entertaining? I thought it was pretty effective."

"A little? I mean, it's a fact."

"Right. You went flying like, really far."

"That's rich coming from you. I mean, what was even with that wind—"

The two archangels had half of two castles reduced to rubble between them, and yet they launched into casual chit-chat without a care in the world.

At the sight of it, Raguel pressed a hand to her aching head and did her best to stay calm.

They're wonderful older siblings when it's time to actually fight, but at moments like this, they're endlessly childish.

"...What about Michael and Gabriel? Those two seem like they'd be moving in a different direction."

"A different direction? We're serious too, you know."

"Yeah. Guell. Are you dismissing us?"

"......"

I never said ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you weren't serious.

Though, well, she had thought exactly that.

"You totally are. But honestly, fair enough."

"Agreed. We do have a bit of a reputation for that. But Michael's exactly the same kind of guy."

"True that."

Why are you both just admitting it?!

While Raguel felt another wave of dizziness wash over her, Sandalphon answered with a snort of suppressed laughter.

"Sister Gabriel's shuttling back and forth between Utra and Cres healing the residents. Michael's acting as the control tower from his own castle."

"Is there anything left for him to control?"

"No idea. Still, you've got to keep up appearances. And honestly, no one else could do it."

"What about Metatron?"

"Still ghosting us, apparently."

So they said.

Either way, with those two so busy, the three of them were the only ones in the Angel Guild available to move.

Thanks to Lily, they'd barely managed to hold the line — but simply sitting idle like this felt wrong in its own way.

"Shouldn't we go too?"

"To the Empire?"

"Yes."

After all, Lily was at this very moment smashing the Empire's castles like cookies, one per minute.

So long as it wasn't Sword God or one of the Eight Swords, even the strongest knights or the largest armies would be no match for the archangels.

"If we go and buy time — pin the Empire down as much as we can — then… ouh?"

Raguel's cheeks were squished together by Uriel's rough hand.

A hand lined with calluses, the kind that came only from a lifetime of wielding weapons.

"Our little maknae's getting awfully bold? Proposing we attack the whole Empire."

"N-no, that's not… whad I meant wash, we should shupport—…"

And what reason do we have not to go?

Besides, Lily — currently affiliated with the Angel Guild — was attacking the Empire with everything she had.

Uriel gave a sharp little laugh — pfft — and let go of her cheeks.

"Yeah. It does piss me off too."

"Then…"

"But there's something we have to protect."

She glanced sharply to the side.

Utra Castle still seethed with an unsettled, malignant energy, likely residue from Sword God's rampage.

The archangels themselves carried a light-aligned guild blessing and had the raw stats to shrug it off — but the residents here were another matter.

Merely touching that energy would deal them grievous harm.

Fortunately, Lily had teleported every resident out of the affected radius early on, so there'd been no casualties — but the townsfolk were still waiting outside the castle walls.

"What if we march out and everyone out there gets slaughtered? Those residents are the kind of people a single imperial knight order could sweep away."

"......"

"Oh, don't worry about your castle, by the way. Sister Gabriel's over there right now. If it's one of the lower-ranked Eight Swords, she can beat them solo."

"...Sister."

So she really comes through when it counts.

Raguel gazed at Uriel, moved by this sudden rush of reliability.

Truly worthy of being called a pillar of the Angel Guild—

"Holy shit, WHAT?!"

Ugh, come on.

"Sister, please—"

"Ah, sorry, sorry. We're SO screwed! I need to contact Michael right now!"

"What is it?"

Instead of answering, Uriel swiftly shared one of the siege warfare system windows with everyone.

A window dyed crimson.

The instant the name registered, both Sandalphon's and Raguel's faces froze at speed.

That person is…

"This is…"

"Yeah."

Thud. Thud.

From far in the distance, a man advanced, pushing straight through the mist.

A mane of black ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hair like a lion's, and the eyes of a tiger.

Resting on the shoulders of that broad-faced, jovial-looking man were pauldrons furred in mingled red and white.

Dressed like a barbarian of the northern wastes, he rapped his thick knuckle dusters together with a TANG! and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠leapt, in a single bound, to stand before them all.

Thoom.

Despite looking every inch the savage, feathers seemed to drift down around him all the same.

He looked them over and grinned.

"Plenty of chicken heads gathered, I see. My training won't run short after all."

An arrogant declaration.

And yet, for all that, the three archangels could not bring themselves to deny a single word of it.

The eastern reaches of the continent.

With most of the region already occupied by the Empire, Leo and the imperial forces were swiftly bringing the east under their control.

The residents, having witnessed the overwhelming gap in power even once, could not bring themselves to consider rebellion — the problem was the players.

"Attack!"

"Apply debuffs! Trip them up somehow — take them down!"

The players, back from death, hurled themselves at the castles again and again in a relentless bid to retake them.

Leo swept away another wave of players through Spirit Manifestation and let out a long, deep breath.

"Haah… don't they ever get tired? Seriously."

Just how many times are they going to keep coming?

In DeoEn, every death extended a player's respawn cooldown — ten minutes, then thirty, then an hour.

And from the fourth death onward, the cooldown ballooned to a massive ten hours.

With a ten-hour respawn timer, participation in a siege was effectively impossible — meaning every player effectively had three lives to give.

The problem was that the players were faithfully burning through all three of those lives in their determination to reclaim the castles.

For ordinary players, of course, it made no difference whether they had three lives or three hundred, but…

"Ugh!"

FWOOOOM!!

A blade of dark moonlight-energy grazed past Leo.

The sword qi came at her all the harder now that she had died her second death.

Vlack, hoisting his massive greatsword, charged at her with black aura erupting around him.

In a one-on-one, she could have ended it easily — but—

Piii~♪

'...Again!'

A melody that twisted the features of anyone who heard it burrowed into her ears, dragging down every one of her stats.

Covering her ears was useless.

After all, this sound was the power of a Mythic-tier item.

Taebaek, vice guildmaster of Black Moon, had unleashed the Flute of the Abyss to slash Leo's stats, and now deployed his summoned creatures in the attack.

Spirit-like beings, yet different in form and shape — spiritual entities.

Crackle…!

A fierce bolt of lightning washed Leo in yellow and melted the summons into nothing.

In the same breath, she froze the incoming techniques of the rankers mid-flight, hefted shards of torn-up earth, and rode the wind to kill a few more.

Pshook!

The black sword qi, waiting for its chance, clipped Leo's flank.

She could have dodged that too.

'I'm just too tired.'

But by the nature of siege warfare, a slain player recovered their health and stamina, and every cooldown was reset.

Every time the famous rankers of the east struck at Leo with ultimates and Legendary, Mythic-tier items, she blocked or evaded it all, somehow holding on.

Lily, currently rampaging elsewhere, was a being beyond all standards — but from these players' perspective, Leo was an even greater monster than Lily.

Because for over two hours now, Leo had been tanking the ultimates of more than a hundred rankers — and killing them anyway.

She'd even killed the respawners two to three additional times on their way back.

Had it not been for Naphras's blessing, it would have been impossible.

"Ugh, seriously!"

"Attack!"

"Was Sword God on this level too?"

"Isn't she stronger than Sword God? Why is she this strong?"

"You're telling me Lily beats this person?"

"Quit yapping! She's going down now!"

But she truly was at her limit now.

The revival items had long been spent, and every Mythic-tier item she owned was on cooldown.

Even the Spirit of Light could no longer lend her strength.

And now, at last…

"Haaah… oh nooooo…"

"It's over!"

The black sword qi and countless techniques crashed down upon Leo—

"...?"

"Huh…?"

A cloud of mist enveloped her.

"Hweeeh… who might you be…?"

"Your servant, Lady Leo."

"You're late…"

"My deepest apologies. The Duke of Battle Blood moved slower than anticipated."

Flutter.

Breaking through the mist, a man draped in a scholar's robe appeared with a smile.

In the man's hand were talismans glowing a pale green — and as they flew toward everyone, the rankers batted them away by their own means.

Slashing them, tearing them, burning them to ash.

But what mattered was that the talismans had touched them all the same.

The man crossed his hands and smiled faintly.

"Burst!"

KWAGAGAGAGANG!!!

The talismans exploded in unison, and while the cloud enveloping Leo healed her wounds, the man adjusted his crooked gat hat.

Rustle…

The great hulking figure with the black greatsword rose to his feet.

Their leader — the first to die at the Empire's hands, and the one who had swiftly assembled the ranker coalition.

"So you were alive after all."

"And you are…"

"You know me? Why, this is my first appearance in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the field today, you see."

The man beamed at him, watching his reaction with an odd little smile.

The leader, Vlack, knew the man before him very well.

How could he not?

"The Cloud Technique Duke — Viron Brenis."

"...How embarrassing. Then again, perhaps that's a mercy. You get to meet me, of all people."

Flutter.

"Sister Birang, you see, has none of my — how shall I put it — finesse."