Chapter 161 - If I Can't Reach You
Your first real experience traveling through the Emerald City can't quite be called that, because you spend most of it inside Leonie's Routes. Not to say you aren't getting the full experience, because the various traps and hazards littered through the landscape start leaking into the Routes around halfway through, but it's a much faster and more pleasant trip than it would be without Leonie's help. She doesn't complain about the amount of work you're asking of her, nor does she seem at all bothered that there are other things intruding into the space she created.
"They're just for going from one place to another. To take somebody to wherever they ask me to take them. I don't have any feelings about this." Leonie says. It's a lie, and not a very good one, because you've seen Leonie design Routes with specific features before. She's making them herself, not churning out some random imagery to fill the distance between points. And they're detailed, too. A lot of time and care are put into each Route Leonie makes.
You wish you could take the time to appreciate them properly, but slowing down just isn't possible right now. Action is needed, and quickly. You wade through magic tripwires and mines and all sorts of terrible inventions designed to do horrible things to anyone who so much as looks at the wrong thing for too long.
You know you're getting close when the enemies begin to swarm more thickly. Their attention isn't on you, instead shaping into ranks and formations readied to march off somewhere ahead. The Emerald City's forces are a strange mix of Familiars, Witches, and strange creatures you assume must be the Adult Who Tells Lies' own creations. Anything the Abnormality didn't make herself bears murky emerald armaments, swords and Shields and armor that suck up the light than touches them in exactly the opposite manner you would expect a gem to. Any gift she makes should be by her very nature designed to ruin whoever carries it in some ironic fashion, but these creatures appear to be using them without issue. Either beings made purely out of curses can use cursed items just fine without suffering any negative effects, or the Adult not seeing something as a person frees her from the obligations of her instincts. Possibly both.
You thin their ranks a little as you pass, but don't risk slowing down to deal with the horde. Even if they're equipped with some interesting tricks, they're still just chaff. More a distraction than a real threat.
You see the storm before you catch sight of Argalia. Piles of coarse black sand are accumulated on the way towards the Mill where the Color Fixer is approaching. It's no mystery why. There's a strong wind blowing here, carrying dust along with it. It's barely more than an irritant now, but you can see it thicken until it chokes the air further in. Somewhere deep in the sandstorm, flashes of orange rock the streets before being quickly swallowed up again. You can't see Argalia through the haze, but the frenetic symphony that is his presence is impossible to miss.
The Emerald City's forces are massing around the cloud of dust. None are willing to proceed into it for fear of being torn apart, but a few wielding bows or rifles take the occasional blind shot into the storm. You don't have the time or energy to spare cutting through their ranks, so Leonie opens another Route to take you further in.
The passage that opens is a narrow stone corridor filled with cracks. The sandstorm outside pushes its way in, just a whisper through the gaps in the walls. When you emerge on the other side, it roars.
The heart of the storm is a dark silhouette that is all but invisible against the pitch-black winds. Its humanoid shape is outlined by a series of intricate glowing gold tattoos and headed with a pair of eyes like burning red coals. Thin blue wounds crisscross their body, ranging from shallow to deep enough that they should be fatal. It charges towards the shimmering blue form of the Blue Reverberation, barely visible through the blackened air. Glaring down from above is a deep orange flame like a second sun, its light blazing insistently through the dust. Another copied Distortion. A single wing beats furiously at the creature's side, casting down feathers of molten way. Both you recognize from Angela and Argalia's independent descriptions. Tanya and Philip, L'Heure du Loup and The Crying Children.
You can't tell how long the fight has been going for. Only that the copy of Tanya doesn't appear to be flagging despite her numerous wounds. You can't see Argalia, but he's moving slower than you're used to. In the skies above, the false sun that is Philip churns with heat. A high-pitched scream accompanies the beam of deep crimson fire that emerges, igniting the dust that fills the air as it soars towards Argalia. His scythe hooks on something you can't see and abruptly redirects his momentum, taking him out of the beam's path.
You conjure Lamp beside you and survey the now-visible battlefield. A large cylindrical building lies in front of a crater-covered courtyard encircled by rows of gem-encrusted buildings. The copy of Philip has a few light wounds carved into its waxy flesh, but clearly took to the skies early in the fight. Argalia's normally-pristine appearance is marred by cracks and scorch marks, bleeding pale while smoke out of the gaps in his form. Despite the injuries, he appears undeterred.
Well, it seems like now is as good a time as any to step in. You draw Mimicry into a bow and load A Sword Sharpened With Tears into it as an arrow, glowing with pale light. Now may be an improper time for experimentation, but you don't know the exact resistances of your target and Pale damage is always a safe bet for when you want something dead. Besides, this sort of sword is meant to be a projectile anyways. You're just giving it a boost.
You release the string, and the sword as an arrow is hurled up at the wax angel floating in the sky. It has no time to react before being pierced through the torso by the improvised missile. The sword leaves no visible mark behind as it dissipates into a faint cyan mist, but the sudden wobbling of the Distortion's flight tells you it still left its own sort of wound. You recall that The Crying Children was an extremely resilient Distortion when not overheating, but that only applies to physical attacks. Protecting one's soul in any substantial way is much more challenging.
"What a pleasant surprise!" Argalia exclaims, glancing away from the battle for a moment to nod approvingly to you. A punch sails over his head, sending shockwaves through the air that pull at his coat. "Though I must say, my friend, I didn't expect us to be reuniting so early. Has there been a change in plans?"
You roll to the side to avoid the beam of fire hurled down at you in retaliation for your attack. "No, just trying to hurry things along. If we finish up early here, we can reinforce the other groups."
Argalia leaps away from the copy of Tanya and to your side, his feet barely touching the ground as he lands. "Then we'd best move a tad quicker here, I suppose. Dealing with these mockeries for so long was becoming sickening anyways."
