But it was already too late. Even as Procyon reeled, sparks guttering along the breadth of its now-weathered surface, amputated hand vainly fending before it... its Shroud was beginning to materialize. Furiously he laid into the giant, lashing out with blade, fist and foot, drawing upon the Praxis to enhance every strike. Not enough.
Yeah, this isn't the death spiral we wanted. Hunger's in for a world of hurt once the counterattack begins. At least he's made more work for the Republic technicians in the event of his death.
Time for the second step. To overextend into the Shroud was pure folly. Instead he leapt back, in the direction of Republic forces, as he bore witness to Procyon's emerging domain.
Looks like Hunger's going for a combination of Seize and Shroud, interesting. Having demonstrated the ability to damage Procyon gives him more bargaining power in the hostage negotiations, since it looks less like what it is: a desperate, last-ditch maneuver to buy time.
First errant lines, like visual snow across the field of reality, then spanning faster and wider, arcs of impossible energy converging in a radius around it, the golds and blues of lightning, still jagged but made uniform, become a hedge against the world to demarcate the Armament's absolute dominion. He knew instinctively that to fight Procyon within the bounds of that radius would result in death.
Visually impressive, though I'd expected an Armament's Shroud to be even worse than this. Perhaps space is warped within, but the external manifestation of Procyon's
World Egg Inversion Shroud doesn't encompass entire astronomical units. Kiting's a viable strategy after all!
But Procyon's support staff - its command and reconnaissance kill-teams, its convoy of armored vehicles carrying valuable Republic mages - were not, and could not, be shielded against an Armament's peer-level threat. Hunger landed upon them with spectacular force, weight of his power an avalanche that scattered and destroyed them with effortless disdain. The commander and mages he did not kill, but crippled, kept on the verge of life with the Ring of Blood, and set them about his body like grotesque armor, bound to him with lines of Edeldross.
Baby armor demonstrates the right mindset, but it's not enough. Hunger's gone beyond and invented something better: mage armor. Even if Procyon wins, losing most of his support staff would be egg on the pilot's face. The casual ease with which Hunger dispatched most of the strike force hammers home far he's come from the days when running into Republic agents with even a badly-damaged bunch of Armor Prototypes was a serious risk. We had to weigh the chance of a Tyrant proc, consider whether the mysterious box mage was worth rolling the dice on, all that. Now? Hunger's so strong his Doom merely seems the natural order of things, it's easily the Curse that's caused the least trouble.
All this he accomplished as he dashed through their ranks, grey swirl of motion carrying hostages forth like a cresting wave, then retreating to the very edge of Procyon's perception as its pilot decided whether to pursue him or assault the Walls.
Usually this is where a phrase like 'all this happened in less than the time it takes an incense stick to burn' would crop up. But Hunger's reactions are far faster even before factoring in the Refinement of Quickness; if only mine could be written with similar speed. Anyway, this is an innovative use of Edeldross, nice to see the Element hasn't been entirely excised from Hunger's repertoire by scaling. The Outer Shadow's got to be useful for holding the hostages together too.
"You come for Duchess Artriez," Hunger said, voice booming across the field, weight of his Pressure carrying his intentions forward. "You will never find her without our aid, but worry not. You may have her."
Procyon leapt towards them, and Hunger invoked the Refinement again to step back, slaying and discarding one magus as he did so.
The Republic's edge in mage extraction is interesting, we know their military science is slightly more advanced as well. What's the Empire's advantage? National unity, the Industrial Realm and economies of scale? Having Attramemnar? And what exactly is the Association's deal, they continue to be suspicious from sheer paucity of information. The Human Sphere's so fascinating I feel bad for tarrying in the Voyaging Realm for so long, interesting as the polities within and Hunger's adventures are.
Anyway, we know from Bearic that an Astral Lord's put a price on Letrizia's head, though having had a first-hand look at what an Armament can do it's surprising that they'd send the likes of Seralize to finish the job. Maybe Bearic's sponsor knew how badly Versch was crippled, implying involvement in the attack on Voyaging City? The Apocryphal Curse seems to like reusing characters and tying up threads, so perhaps Procyon obtained safe passage through the Voyaging by negotiating with them.
This far from the Princess, it took all his focus not to drop the facade of invincibility. He'd already exerted himself severely; further Refinements would come at a cost.
Adorie's bloodline has proven invaluable. I think she also managed to mitigate the tenth of a Rank sacrificed to activate the Armor of Midnight? Though come to think of it, defeating an Armament in sight of Nilfel's mustered Legions sounds like a Rank-up opportunity as well, so perhaps that could be recouped if all these Refinements aren't ripping Hunger's essence a new one. I'm not looking forward to the buffet of Conditions that'll surely crop up in the wake of this fight, but even dropping multiple Ranks wouldn't be as bad as the Shattering Blow.
"I may not be your match in open combat," he continued, "but I am much faster than you. Continue this mindless aggression and I will slay not only your commanding officer and all your diviners, but those in Voyaging City as well. And then I will teleport to your home planet and destroy it as well. How well do you think your world would fare against the attack that struck you just now? Letrizia has told us much about you, Atven Varne."
This is a bluff, but not one Procyon's pilot can dismiss out of hand. I'd underestimated the inconveience imposed by the Plenary Brand, since it communicates not just capabilities but intentions. If Hunger was burdened by that Curse this brinksmanship would be impossible, treachery stripped away to leave age alone as his advantage. But hey, at least we know the pilot's name. Atven Varne has a solid heft to it, he sounds like a man born to pilot a giant robot.
"If you were willing to surrender Letrizia, you would have done so," Procyon boomed. "The Plenary makes my intentions absolutely clear, so you could have prevented my assault on your walls by yielding to its implicit demand. I have no desire to negotiate with a man who slaughtered my allies unprovoked. Stop wasting my time."
Procyon's taking a leaf from the Maiden's playbook. 'By existing I implicitly make my wishes clear, so you have no excuse for ignorance!' Talking about unprovoked attacks is certainly a bold strategy. I can only guess Atven spent more time with his mother, because a senator would know better than to make such a claim.
And yet he had stopped to talk. Hunger smiled slightly. "It was your convoy that attacked our Walls unprovoked, which are critical to the ecology of the Realm within. Even so, Nilfel is willing to give you Letrizia Artriez and Verschlengorge as well. But we are in the middle of an extremely delicate ritual in extracting the Armament's power. If botched, the destruction would be catastrophic. After two days, we will be happy to surrender them to your custody."
"A likely story." The Armament scoffed. "You think buying time will save you against me? No matter where you've hidden her, I will scour your entire nation in moments."
Poor Atven's activated Hunger's trap card. Totality shelters him from Hunger's Pressure, but there are no shields against rhetoric. The truth sounds like an even more unlikely story though, since there's a special sale on time coming up: buy two days and get a complimentary three weeks for free. Unfortunate that we're not experimenting on Versch, Bloodwraith's one of those appealing advancements that patch a hole in Hunger's skillset.
"Two-dimensional thinking," Hunger reprimanded. "If you wish to find the Armament, that will certainly be no issue for you, the ritual grounds are entirely obvious. Though they may well detonate at your approach, and I question whether mighty Procyon could escape that unscathed. But if you wish to find the Duchess and the wealth of information she holds, you will have to search not only the surface but the entire volume of the Realm of Myth, and perhaps even the Voyaging Realm. We can just as easily hide her thousands of kilometers underground or in the sky, and your Pressure will not avail you when it is opposed by mine."
Since the summit of Adorie's home was high enough that it needed magic to maintain breathable air, this is a valid point. Miren alone is a huge city, and though Procyon's incredibly fast its sensory prowess seems less impressive. Hunger did manage to ambush it, after all. If Atven's interested more in the Duchess than her steed, he'd need to compel Nilfellian cooperation with force. Maybe we should've tried hiding Letrizia in the Final Vestige? Kiting works on Procyon, if he could've been baited into waking the Shard that... well, it could've ended interestingly. Call Up was a missed opportunity.
But about that wealth of information Letrizia holds, why exactly
did the Republic invest so heavily in her retrieval or elimination? Ignoring an Armament when you're at war's risky, but Verschlengorge was missing, perhaps presumed dead. Why invest so much men and materiel in this mission? It's easy to blame the Apocryphal Curse, but what pretext did it employ to get Republic command to authorize this? The strategic situation should've developed enough that the Duchess' intel isn't that important. Letrizia held back information at first but that reticence is mostly a thing of the past. Maybe they were just gambling on recovering and repairing an Armament.
"F-For someone who claims to have the overwhelming advantage, you sure do enjoy attempting to negotiate," Procyon said, but did not take a further step forward. Slowly its Shroud began to recede.
"That is because we have no quarrel with you," said Hunger. "We care nothing for your wars of the Human Sphere. It is only the timing that is objectionable to us, else we can part ways amicably. And isn't peace much more appealing than mutual destruction? You could do great harm to Nilfel, just as I could do great harm to your people. But that would be a purposeless and meaningless tragedy. If we fought, at the very least you would be forced to slay your comrades, and thus have no hope of finding Letrizia until you return to the City for a new group of diviners. But everyone can live, even these mages and your commanding officer, if we simply come to an agreement right now."
Manifesting the Shroud is taxing, but so is the stunt Hunger pulled off. Hopefully he benefits more from this brief intermission than Procyon. Hunger's intentionally eliding over the obvious strategy of wrecking Nilfel until they cough up the Duchess to make the Armament leave, if Atven's hard enough to sacrifice his comrades and call the bluff. I do see why the Republic goes to such lengths to retrieve and recruit them, any magic amenable to instruction proliferates beyond the Realm's restrictions. The Republic's probably got schools of diviners, stolen magics taught right alongside Republic propaganda, making the mages valuable but not irreplaceable.
The magus attached to his shoulder whimpered, and Hunger rendered him unconscious with the Ring of Blood.
What a convenient Ring, bloodcasting's become a mainstay of Hunger's powerset. He can heal and harm, buff and debuff any organic ally or adversary... which of course Procyon
isn't. That's probably why the Apocryphal Curse chose to send it; it's not as hard a counter as Augustine's Rank-agnostic rune trap, but Foremost Armaments have blood.
Here was the great danger of the Plenary Brand, for Hunger was bluffing outrageously while keenly aware of his opponent's intentions. Even if Atven Varne was not conscious of the fact, he had already begun to waver, worn down by the compounding uncertainties of his current path. If Procyon tried to fight, could it catch Hunger? The best-case scenario was that the Champion of Nilfel's Refinement was limited-use, his god-slaying strike a one-off, and the claimed teleportation simply a bluff. But it could just as easily be the case that his Refinement could be invoked liberally - and Hunger had indeed so acted - and his other abilities similarly permissive.
Sadly the teleportation can't be demonstrated, but Hunger should have a charge of Nightmare Flight banked. At least he can play that card to dodge a strike that'd otherwise be deadly.
"At the very least," Hunger sighed. "Let's say this much. Your commanding officers were unprepared. There is a reason you of the Human Sphere do not wander so deeply into the Voyaging Realm, and not just because of Astral interdiction. There are powers at play even greater than an Ereadhihr of the Foremost, and the favor on my shoulder originates from one of their number. Surely your Ereadhihr must recognize the sign of a Praehihr when it is thrust before them."
Fingers crossed that this is one of the five percent of Apocryphal procs that Favor negates. It would be nice to know how the Republic forces penetrated this deep, when apparently the whole raison d'être of Letrizia's unnamed organization is solving that problem. Apocryphal aid, but of what form? At least the operatives Gisena cracked are still captive, but they probably didn't send anyone who knew worthwhile secrets scouting. Speaking of, how'd they get inside the Walls? Blitzing a guard post or just paying in platinum? Nilfellian soldiers are inured enough to strange shit that I can see Armor Prototypes not even prompting a raised eyebrow.
Hunger stilled his expression, exerting the power of Ruin to terminate any signifier of weakness that his enemy could detect. At the very least this intermission had given him a chance to catch his breath.
"I have no idea what the effect of that ribbon is," the pilot admitted, "But Procyon is telling me that... you... are a Praehihr. He says also that you're linked to Verschlengorge, so your story does not add up!"
It's interesting that Procyon
knows what a
Praehihr is. It - or rather he, since Armaments appear to have genders - wasn't crafted by Foremost hands, but rather a variant of the same process that was giving rise to the Armament Fish. Did the Foremost eventually automate Armament construction, so that Implements would arise as they were needed? Is vali's theory about a Cursebearer's arrival triggering this correct? And what Curse would the Armament Fish have borne, anyway? The Affliction of the Limited Palette, as opposed to Versch's Unlimited Palate? If you can't have multiple Armaments for a single Curse and it cues off the Cursebearer in question, by process of elimination it would've had the Apocryphal.
A lot of leaps of logic are required to reach that conclusion, but if accurate then it was far from peak strength when we killed it. We've never heard of one powered by a Crowning Curse. Kind of an unfortunate missed opportunity, since linking an Armament suppresses the Curse; if Hunger was willing to desync with Versch and restart Decimation on top of letting his own Satiation lapse briefly, maybe he could have harnessed that power with no added risk. Still, trying to salvage the Fish would've been way too greedy and probably ended with Bearic piloting the bloody thing.
"Even so," Hunger said brazenly, "In what universe does this lead to a beneficial outcome for you? You cannot catch me and I will not fight you directly. Shall we each raze the civilization of the other for no gain? And even if you did manage to reach me, Procyon would be so diminished by the ensuing battle that you would be trapped in the Voyaging Realm like Verschlengorge before you, entirely vulnerable to a passing monstrosity."
Hunger's as audacious in negotiations as he is in every other department. Hinting at Verschlengorge's weakened state is risky. If they're allied with Bearic's old sponsor then they may already know, though they did send a full-strength Armament along with the expeditionary force anyway.
"I think your people will give up Letrizia once I've slain enough of them," said Procyon, and turned back to the Walls. Its Shroud snapped back into existence, a coruscating halo of lightning. "You, can do as you like."
A valid move, but man, so much for 'Liberty, Unity, Legacy'. What if Hunger hadn't been bluffing? He really does have the power to teleport and raze worlds, just not the willingness to do it. Score another for Letrizia's view of the Republic. Every time they show up, its agents end up validating Imperial propaganda.
So be it. Perhaps age and treachery could not prevail every time.
Some contests, were the purview of might alone.
Yeah, so much for this being one of the five percent. I wonder if that was even a possible outcome on the charts?
Without the Refinement of Quickness Procyon's speed was far greater than his own. In scarce more than an eyeblink the Armament was once more hammering upon the Walls of Myth, and this time hairline fractures ruptured outwards with each fall of that titanic sledge, destruction a matter of minutes rather than hours. Likely it would have been seconds had the Armament been uninjured.
Having mentioned that the Walls are critical to the environment within, Atven knows he can compel Hunger to defend them. Just breaching them could be an ecological catastrophe on par with removing the Ring of Time from the Temple. We know what happens to troops deployed beyond the Walls, it'd nerf the lifespan of all residents as
mythos bled out into the Realm beyond. Perhaps calling this fight vanity was premature, if the Republic forces can't even be bothered to use the gates. We know from experience they're sized to admit Armaments!
The power of its Shroud was undeniable, yet Hunger was not yet out of cards of play. Swiftly he interposed his own body between fist and Walls, allowing Procyon's blow to crash against the Armor of Midnight that his Cloak of Sky had become. Even the vast fortitude of that Empyreal plate buckled beneath the onslaught, the blood and bone beneath a shattered ruin; but that was a moment's effort to fix with his Ring, and he would not yield until every atom was destroyed.
The Armor of Midnight is a hell of a drug, I thought a direct hit would trigger Second Stage and start a death spiral of our own for sure.
It meant Procyon was foiled, at least momentarily, for it needed a concerted assault to break the Walls, and that was impossible with Hunger patching the breach. With superior speed it could shift the area of its assault such that he could not cover every strike, but so long as some fraction landed on him, the next phase of his plan could succeed.
Again the fist fell, Procyon attempting to simply slay him where he stood. Hunger smiled contentedly and invoked the Refinement of Quickness, intercepting the fist with his Blade within the Realm of Forms. Half its hand was claimed by that stroke, up and through the forearm as well - though Hunger now was on the last dregs of his own power, held up more by the rigidity of his armor than his remaining meagre strength.
Proximity to Adorie enables obscene Refinement-spam, she's been really useful in this fight. Platonic parrying looks like it negates durability to a degree, just as the Forebear's Cut can no-sell defenses. That's got interesting implications for other Refinements, especially ones that are constantly active like Battle. I'm chagrined that we didn't get a Praxis spending point here, not even the opportunity to flash-purchase Foe-Defeating Stance, since those were theorized things that would've made this risk less insane.
Naturally the hostages had all been pulverized, and Procyon broadcast its pilot's regret at that necessity, but also his frustrated determination to see the mission through. It was a bright and fearsome resolve, stoked by the vigor of youth, and the Armament responded to its Pilot's will in kind.
Something something, eggs to make an omelette, etc. Is this what the Tyrant meant by the 'purposeless guttering of an over-bright flame'? What a waste.
Now Procyon stood back and focused its Shroud, invoking a technique of its own. Wings of lambent blue sprouted from its limbs, the power of its Brand impressed like a seal upon mind and spirit, a shining beatific horror before which no escape or resistance was possible. A thousand-fold, a million-fold it asserted its primacy over the real, an assertion of such absolute conviction that it became an all-conquering declaration, bending all reality towards the rhythm of its purpose.
Ah, shit, it's achieved what Uryū never did and activated Vollständig. Of course an Armament has techniques of its own beyond the ability to manifest a Shroud, I'm surprised Atven hasn't launched a barrage of mythically potent missiles or something. Where's the Republic's vaunted military science?
Not merely its enemies, but the world itself quailed before the Plenary Armament: for whom power, and the majesty of power, were one and the same. This was Procyon, forged by Dr. Amarlt at the very dawn of the Human Sphere, the very Implement by which humanity had first leapt free of the terrestrial cradle, the spark that ignited the Astral Age.
It's fitting that Procyon's Plenary Brand-derived Ultimate sears its historic import into mind and matter alike. I've maintained that Plenary's the coolest Curse. Even the revelation about it broadcasting intent doesn't change that, the ability to terrify your enemies into shitting bricks en masse is objectively fun to read, even on the receiving end. That said, it's fortunate the matchup isn't entirely in Procyon's favor and Hunger's resistant on account of being a Cursebearer. Otherwise this would've likely done him in, re-rolls or no.
The Armament now was not even a blur to his senses, appearing and striking with stop-motion swiftness, hurling him aside with world-shattering strength, the furious descent of his body carving a great trench into the Walls.
This was an Armament in truth, strength that could tear stars in twain and bleed singularities dry; and to resist it, even with the fortitude of the cosmos entire, was nothing short of futility. The Walls of Myth began to dissolve before that terrible magnificence, dissipating like morning dew before the heat of dawn.
Man, Hunger's the one who's supposed to specialize in bleeding things dry! How much Rank and/or torturing of metaphors do we need for the Ring to apply DoTs to celestial objects? Jokes aside, this description is awe-inspiring. I wonder what the Legions atop the Walls are doing in response to this? Aside from Adorie enabling Praxis abuse, none of our allies have done anything relevant enough to be mentioned in the narrative.
Hunger climbed unsteadily to his feet.
The stars could yield, the sky could yield, the Walls could yield, the world could yield, but it was not within him to yield.
It was only within him, to do his uttermost.
...Tyrant's admittedly a nice Curse as well. In a palatable protagonist, unwillingness to compromise isn't that bad as character traits go.
Once more he performed the Refinement of Quickness, and leapt up over the rapidly-thinning walls to grab Letrizia Artriez in one arm and Adorie Mirellyian in another. Then he turned and sprinted furiously forward, back out into the barren plains, away from Nilfel, away from the Walls, slowing only slightly while next to Procyon so that the Armament could clearly see his two passengers.
The disguised royal guards are just - totally irrelevant in combat at this level, as are the Legions themselves. Speaking of disguises, wonder if it'd have been worthwhile to recruit Nilfellian illusionists for this? Procyon's senses don't seem that good, Atven was reliant on divination support.
He performed the Refinement again as soon as it wore off. Procyon gave chase, but even its Shroud-enhanced quickness was not quite sufficient to overcome his own, so long as the Refinement was maintained. They broke over the horizon, broadening the gap but only by inches, and only now were his companions starting to realize what had occurred, for the span of this battle occurred in the fractions between seconds imperceptible to the human mind.
At least they can follow the dialogue, but sweet Accursed has Hunger outscaled Aobaru and Aeira. The conclusion of the battle happening over the horizon might hurt the Rank multiplier a bit and moving away from the Walls means Hunger no longer benefits from sheltering in their shadow, but such concerns are far from Hunger's mind. I initially thought we'd see the return of Backpack Gisena to round out the impromptu party here, her own Ultimate might make a dent in Procyon's. But
Adorie clung tight and channeled the might of her bloodline, while Letrizia mouthed some nonsense about sacrificing herself. Hunger performed the Refinement yet again, and could not suppress the wince that crossed his features even as his legs sped unceasingly forward. Each technique felt as if he were scraping against the threadbare linings of his soul, but what choice did he have? If Procyon's very presence was allowed to eradicate the Walls of Myth, what would happen to Nilfel and all the other nations in that Realm?
Of course, talk of self-sacrifice is 'nonsense' when coming from others, but
Hunger gets to hurl himself headlong at disaster after disaster. Classic case of 'do as I say, not as I do'. He needs to work on his parenting skills. The risk is real, though. A breach might be patched or otherwise repaired, but if the Walls are completely destroyed how will Nilfel defend itself from the Titan menace?!
Procyon crested the horizon itself, now finally out of sight of the Walls, and Hunger shifted Letrizia slightly, adjusting his grip on the Blade.
The Armament shifted its stance curiously in response, grim inevitability radiating from its Shroud; and Hunger, with confidence he did not feel, inclined his head in provocation.
Procyon, being not only ignorant of the Voyaging Realm's politics but actively indifferent to them, doesn't know he's coming at the King here. But somehow, I don't think a loyal scion of the Republic would've changed his approach. No respect the rights of a monarch!
With a grunt of contempt Procyon charged, wings fully-flared and burning through the world, a numinous destroyer, all-conquering and invincible. With his off-hand Hunger performed the Refinement one final time, blood and essence leaking, evaporating from every pore.
I count nine total uses of the Refinement, which is pretty painful even without Artful Thorn's exponential scaling. Hunger has earned his upcoming vacation, though the Apocryphal Curse'll naturally try to rain on the parade. Also, Hunger doesn't have to execute the runes with his sword? Neat.
As Procyon's wounded fist descended Hunger cocooned Letrizia in Edeldross and hurled her forward at it.
Reading this for the first time felt like getting hit with Crimson Flare's debuff.
The Armament halted abruptly, shifting to catch the Duchess, and Hunger pounced. Forward again, down that tunnel of infinite blue before which only death or glory lay. Again, Procyon made to interpose its other arm, but its stance was ungainly from the prior interruption; and, missing that hand, came up a hair short.
As the Taker of Hands, Seram would be proud of Hunger's performance here. Through the judicious application of dismemberment and explosions, all problems can be solved. The unbalanced stance makes me wonder if selectively applying buffs with Crimson Flare can be done? Briefly boost one limb, throw the enemy off, then take advantage. Not too relevant at Hunger's power-level, but if there's one thing these quests have taught me, it's that there's always a bigger Fish. We skipped straight from King to Armament, but what comes next?
Hunger struck, not with the Cut of the Forebear, but with a thrust, his whole-hearted imitation of Vanreir Amarlt, whose ages-removed forefather had once forged the Plenary Armament. To his mind in that moment there was no edge but the point, no life but its ending, no direction but forward.
Pierce through. Even if it could not be pierced.
Forward, ever forward, past the tunnel of limitless blue and into the core of the Plenary Armament, then deeper through and forward still, through the infinities spiraling within, to unmake the works of the father by the technique of the son.
A moment of silence for Vanreir Amarlt, ladies and gentlemen. What a legend. Their legacy stretched all the way back to Old Terra, and even if the line itself perished in fire and internecine strife, still Procyon remained to proclaim their glory. There's more to this victory than merely saving Nilfel. Hunger has just ended an era, destroyed a priceless and irreplaceable piece of history, shifting the balance of power in the Human Sphere in the process. Perhaps Procyon is owed his own moment of silence. Poor Ceathlynn, we were warned that we'd regret not taking her, and I halfway expected to hear her voice coming from the Armament's cockpit. What will she pilot now, if the currents of the Astral carry her to shore?
In time, the Refinement fell away, and Hunger returned to the material realm, his Blade plunged deep into the heart of Procyon, who had crumpled, and lay still. He had poured everything of himself into that strike, and the condition of his blade reflected it. A single gleaming crack had opened lengthwise across its face, and the Immanence within poured ceaselessly forth, infusing and dissipating within the firmament.
The leakage is worrisome, but better a partial Shattering than outright death. Besides, it's fitting that Hunger would damage the Blade upon replicating the defining technique of the man whose death reforged it.
Hunger fell to a knee and wavered, light-headed with exhaustion and loss, while Adorie quickly clambered off to tear strips from her dress, attempting to bind closed the wound on his sword. Letrizia landed harmlessly on the earth, padding unsteadily over, her very gait expressing disbelief.
Adorie bandaging the Forebear's Blade makes for a funny scene, but Hunger's Artifacts are more crucial parts of him than any physical organ. The Mirellyian bloodline also specializes in abating existential diminishment, so anybody can staunch the metaphorical bleeding it'd be her. Hunger should thank her for her assistance on waking, just being willing to put her life at risk by coming to the front lines is praiseworthy.
"We won," she said, voice quiet with awe. "You beat an Armament. By throwing me at it! Not that I'm complaining, I was really ready to die, but how did you know it would react like that, trying to catch me? Capturing me would be a priority for them, but I'm sure they'd accept killing me as well."
Man, Letrizia really didn't think we could do it. Admittedly we had that in common, I thought Hunger was up shit creek for sure unless he went grinding first, but she was ready to die to save us. That should be recognized and rewarded. Maybe it's time to dispense with the mercenary charade for good? I don't think there's any amount of money House Artriez can offer equal to the service Hunger rendered here, the implication's that they were impoverished
before the probable death of the Archduke and outbreak of open war. Besides, Hunger's relapsed and gotten hooked on heroism again.
Hunger turned blearily to regard her. "Two reasons. First, he was prideful and thought he had won, that there was nothing I could do to defy him. And second, he had a crush on you."
"W-what!? H-how would you- But he never said any-"
"The Plenary Brand broadcasts one's intentions for all the world to see. He never had any intention of letting you die, or even of coming to harm. Not so for the rest of us."
Man, exploiting the Plenary Brand was crucial to this fight. Hunger didn't so much beat Procyon as he beat
Atven Varne. He fought the man, not the machine; that's as it should be, Armaments are absurd. Still, the Brand would be so inconvenient in any mecha show, totally undermines romantic tension. How can you stretch will-they-or-won't-they across multiple cours if the Curse broadcasts emotions?!
Hunger shook his head, exhaling heavily. The leaden weight of his physical form seemed to multiply with every breath. He was so tired now, too tired even to be concerned with the silver light bleeding endlessly from his Blade into the aether. "Let this be, a lesson to you. Power isn't everything."
Hunger's gone beyond Exhaustion here, he hit bone-deep weariness over a thousand words ago. But even on the brink of unconsciousness, there's always time to impart a lesson. Shame Aobaru's not here, he's missing out on the mentoring.
"Age," he pointed to himself.
"Treachery," he pointed at Letrizia. "These things, are more reliable, than force alone will ever be."
So he said, and fell to the earth, and knew no more.
The inglorious aftermath of this involves Letrizia and Adorie carrying Hunger's supine body back to the Walls, because he didn't have the presence of mind to activate Nightmare Flight. An amusing mental image, though no doubt Nilfel'll send out some scouts to see what happened. This must be nervewracking for the Legions, their new monarch disappeared in the middle of a battle too fast for them to track. At least Gisena can deduce what happened and scry the outcome? Anyway, this was a top-tier battle and a tense update to read, but Hunger brought home the win! With a callback to Vanreir, no less!