[X] Time for war
-[X] Attend to the war on the Slane Theocracy. Wear some of your best secondary equipment, while you are confident in your abilities you aren't foolish enough to dismiss the Slane Theocracy completely considering that they have god-kin. Have Ichika Toufexidis watch over the battlefield incase you do end up needing backup with said backup depending on what you are facing. Finally upgrade your puppet body a bit while still keeping it's appearance. Use the information you got from the SL to plan around their WOIs if need be.
-[X] Have several angels NPCs with an NPC inhabiting your angel body show up partway through the invasion. Have them show up before Wizzomatic before he faces off against note worthy soldiers then appear to leave him be. It would be demoralizing for the armies of the Theocracies to see them be 'abandoned' by the messengers of the gods with it also presenting an opportunity to use their appearance to twist to your advantage. Rehearse with everyone before hand to make sure this goes off well.
-[X] Keep the damage and deaths to a minimum during the war. Seeing as the plan to take over the kingdom you'd rather not have to spend resources fixing things up. Realistically you could beat the entire army by yourself without too much effort and the less deaths the less issues you will have gaining the citizens loyalty. Not to mention that the God-kin are a rarity in this world that you'd hate to lose, especially if you can turn several of them.
-[X] mini Interlude: Reactions to the kings declation of war
-[X] Mini Interlude: random grunt from the Slane Theocracy
-[X] Interlude: Elites of the Slane Theocracy
[AN: Sorry for the rather condensed chapter.
]
***
Interlude: Reactions to the War
Today, the Re-Estize Kingdom sent its declaration of war.
'We, Ramposa the Third of the Re-Estize Kingdom hereby call all servants and heralds to bestow this message upon those international leaders who would deem it appropriate. We, Ramposa the Third, declare an official state of armed conflict on the Slane Theocracy, all of its provinces, and its rulers.'
Normally, the paragraph would be followed by a declaration that the Kingdom will mass-mobilize their troops, but this wasn't the case.
Instead, the paragraph contained: 'The war effort will be handled by the newly appointed Lord Marshall Wizzomatic, and all military actions will and must go through the approval of the Lord Marshall, lest they be punished accordingly.'
Obviously, people didn't understand this.
Sending a single magic caster?
For the Re-Estize Kingdom to challenge a superpower like the Slane Theocracy is unthinkable. All of the rulers of the other kingdoms would surely scoff at this, then throw out the letter along with the rest of the non-burnable trash.
However, there were those who had their doubts. Namely, the Slane Theocracy's cardinals. Currently, their entire court was in upheaval.
No. I mean literally.
Upheaval.
The Cardinal of Fire, Berenice Nagua Santini slammed the gavel for the nth time. "I said order!"
"Cardinal, please, reconsider in the name of the people!" a functionary replied loudly, his voice breaking through the crowd of murmurs that seemed to ignore the Cardinals' attempts at silencing it.
Documents, detailing reports of Wizzomatic's power laid strewn about on the floor, as though someone read them then dropped them and didn't bother to pick it back up.
Meanwhile, as if trying to add gasoline to the burning balefire, Nigun Grid Luin stood at a podium in the back of the hall, his arms upraised and an insane grin etched on his face. He spouted heresies like, "Alah Alaf descendeth upon the earth once again, lo he came to punish the sinners!"
It was like some malevolent asshole was doing this on purpose, poisoning the minds of all of the politicians in the Holy City to make them as intelligent as a sack of particularly dull hammers.
Dominic Ihre Partouche, Cardinal of Wind stood up, his chair skidding. "I can't take this anymore! Calm down, all of you! Refusing to do so will result in a summary execution for capital sin! This is a court where the Six Great Gods once walked, show some spine and dignity before the supreme–"
"We're all going to die!"
Dominic sat down, sighing as he massaged his temples. "Why am I even trying?"
Elantra observed the commotion from her crystal ball, a vulpine grin spread across her face.
*
The room was a small, modest chamber in the palace of Hoburns. Calca had just received news from her retainer, Remedios Custodio, about the declaration of war and Wizzomatic's sole attendance in the conflict.
"I, I see..." Calca said, looking at the ceiling with sad eyes.
She looked like a puppy abandoned by her owner, told to stay outside the house even though it was raining.
Calca took the locket she had bought earlier and opened it up. The handsome face of her future husband showed itself, surrounded by a pink heart from illusory light. It had the vague scent of floral remedies.
She hugged the locket, wishing her beloved good luck on the battlefield.
*
The door to the king's parlor was kicked open, and the crown prince walked in flanked by a pair of halberdiers. His face was fuming with anger. Without regard for Gazef, who stepped forward and laid his hand on the pommel of his sword, Barbo approached and stopped in the middle of the room.
"Father! What is the meaning of this?!" Prince Barbro asked, eyes seething with rage. "You began a war with the Slane Theocracy without counseling any of the nobles, nor of your sons! Have you lost your mind after drinking that venomous brew?"
The youthful Ramposa looked at Barbro, and the way he looked gave Barbro chills, a chain of goosebumps going down the now-uncertain prince's back.
"Oh, don't you get it?" Ramposa said, in an oddly ominous voice. His eyes were mad and his lips contorted into a devilish grin, from ear to ear, revealing the teeth like a bouquet of white flowers waiting to be stained with blood. "There's no need to call them for a small errand, is there? When I ask my gardener to cut some weeds in the palace walkway, I do not need to ask you, correct?"
He looked up, revealing his face to Barbro. "So, why would I do it in this case?"
Gazef's eyes slithered in the king's direction, his hand trembling.
Then, Ramposa seemed to calm down, going to a completely tranquil state. "I have to say, Wizzomatic-danna's potions work wonders. After drinking one, I became rejuvenated and young, but after the second dose? Ah, it truly feels like I'm myself again! That man, Wizzomatic of Cybertron, is sure to lead this kingdom to greatness. I wil give my life for Re-Estize, and him by extension."
Gazef thinly called, "Your Highness?"
"Now," Ramposa said, standing up from his chair and raising a hand in Barbro's direction. "Do you have an actual reason for coming in here, Barbro... kun?"
Barbro's forehead wrinkled in terror, as his eyes darted at his father's various features, then to the confused and clearly unsettled Gazef and back to his father. In the end, he gulped his fear down the lump in his throat, and meekly answered, "N-No, father."
"Father?" Ramposa asked. "Well, you're not wrong, but it's quite presumptuous to say that in front of people, no? The Warrior Captain is in this very room, Barbro. Control your indulgence and refer to me as Your Highness."
Barbro, not recognizing his father, bowed down in submission. "Y-Yes, Your Highness!" After that, the prince fled the room post haste.
Ramposa sat back down, one leg over the other. "Hah, to think a potion would help return my confidence."
Over the years, Ramposa slowly lost hope in the Kingdom, due to its state where the nobles ruled over everything and didn't allow him to make any major moves. However, now, after drinking the second Youth Potion and fully aware of WIzzomatic's existence, Ramposa felt it true that it would no longer be the case for much longer.
"Gazef-dono, once the Theocracy is conquered, should we just give it to Wizzomatic-danna?" Ramposa asked.
Gazef, thrown back into reality, answered, "I... don't know."
A moment of silence passed as Ramposa began to think.
"Your Highness, are you still..."
"Myself, right?" Ramposa finished the question. "Do not worry, I am Ramposa, the Third of his name. I will gladly cast away my pride and life in the name of the Kingdom my ancestors have striven to built. No matter what, I will ensure its prosperity. You were probably a bit startled by my stringent act, I take it?"
Gazef seemed to calm down a bit at that. "Yes, I suppose that is the case."
"Umu, yes. The Potion of Youth appears to have restored even my way of thinking after the second dose. Frankly, I feel much more motivated than before. To think that monstrous magic caster can control life so easily; he truly must be a God, don't you think?"
"A Player, perhaps, Your Highness?"
"Perhaps..." Ramposa looked out the window. "Well, all we have to do is wait for the Theocracy to become ours."
*
"I can't believe my ears, even if you say that," Jircniv stated with frankness from his chaise sofa, red pillows granting him comfort from where he laid.
Loune Vermillion, Jircniv's secretary, frowned with narrowed eyebrows. "I apologize, Your Excellence, but that's what it says."
"Haah, really? Very well, show me the report."
Loune bowed his head lightly, reaching out and giving his clipboard to the Emperor, who proceeded to take it in his hands and gaze upon it. His eyes followed the text, going from line to line in seconds. In no more than ten seconds, he furrowed his brows, in five more he squinted, and in the last five, he finally exclaimed, "Eh!? Th, that's..."
A cry rang through the palace that day: "INSANEEE!"
***
Wizzomatic's human form was clad in the best available secondary equipment in his ownership. This included a Divine-Tier Robe that rested in the treasury until now, bought and then gifted to Cybertron by one 'Pade4U2Day,' who would later go on to become known as Vighru-Vighru, a seemingly random pair of words with no meaning.
But his item sure was. This robe, called the [Scorch-R] by its new appropriator, through a cash item that let one change the name of an item, is one of the best items available to Cybertron's treasury, on par with the daily garment of Wizzomatic's Mind Flayer form.
Its stat distribution was slightly different and less advantageous to Wizzomatic's build. Nonetheless, he wore it for the upcoming war.
The robe was beautiful, long and with sizable sleeves that gave the wearer a sagacious appearance. It had a black open flap in the center, going down the entire way and splitting it in half, and in the place above the flap was a medallion included in the equipment set, a beautiful red crowning gem with golden embroidery meant to imitate the sun. Underneath the main piece were gray velvet pants with thin strings of shining white-gold lining and a pair of leather boots with slightly upturned toes.
The set also included a hood and a circlet, visible even when the hood was put on.
It was not, however, the robe, but Wizzomatic's untamed, unblemished beauty that inspired the people, as the 'war procession' walked through the street.
The people's valiant cries rang out through the street, some men even shed tears of glory and joy as their lord passed by.
Their yells were indescribable in a way that a human ear could comprehend from description; everyone was screaming, cheering, jumping, shaking their bodies and hands in the air, in hopes of being the one voice to drown out all the others. The way they cheered for King Ramposa was powerful and encouraging, but this was on an entirely different plane of applause.
"BRING US VICTORY, WIZZOMATIC-SAMA!!!"
"SHOW THOSE FOOLS THE MIGHT OF RE-ESTIZE!"
"HAIL WIZZOMATIC! HAIL CYBERTRON!"
People didn't even know what Cybertron was, beyond the reality that it was a 'group of people affiliated with Wizzomatic-danna.' That fact alone was enough for them to praise the name itself as though they were preachers praying to the silent Gods in the sky.
Thankfully, the city guards had no choice but to keep the wild masses at bay.
Wizzomatic, looking out meekly from beneath his hood, understood that he had gained the love and admiration of his people.
It made sense. The Kingdom is full of corrupt nobles, so the people are used to being squashed like bugs and drained of any ability to fend off starvation and cold.
But here comes a literal messiah with incomprehensible magical power, building schools for the people, building them houses to protect them from the elements, and bolstering the local economy to such a ridiculous level of splendor that in a few years, E-Rantel would become just as affluent as the capital.
In their eyes, he is the long-prophecized hero that will deliver them from famine, war, and death.
This was supported by the mayor, Pluton Ainzach, and Theo Rakeshir, the local functionaries.
Honestly, if he decided to start a revolution, none of these people in E-Rantel would object in the slightest.
He stopped in the square. A woman approached as close as she could with her little boy, hugging him as they both waved in his direction. Wizzomatic's left eye looked at them from under the hood, giving them an unreadable look which they read as confidence.
He decided to give a curt goodbye to his people.
"People of E-Rantel!" Hearing his magically amplified voice, the crowd quieted down. He raised his hands to both sides, making a Y shape with his body. "On this day, I will go and bring this country the glory of conquest! Armies will be shattered! Opponents will burn!"
He paused for the drama, letting his head slump down for a moment, before he gave the people a triumphant grin. "And the impudent Cardinals of the Theocracy will pay for hurting the people of the domain that I so dearly protect with my heart! This, I promise you!"
Once again, heated cheers bellowed out of the infinite cosmic crowd. People were incensed, practically fanatical at his words, thrashing like wolves. Some of the men begged for Wizzomatic to take them with him and let them witness his glory in person, while others yelled the simple phrase, 'Hail Wizzomatic! Hail Cybertron!'
It seemed to have become the identifiable motto of the crowd, as soon, this phrase alone wins over all of the other screams and voices. All of E-Rantel sings the phrase to Wizzomatic's glory, like an army of religious fanatics worshipping him.
In the crowd, Wizzomatic saw the people from Carne Village that he saved so long ago.
To think only a month had passed since then.
Upon being finished with his speech, Wizzomatic raised his arm into the air. A purple light glew in it.
"[Gate]."
For the first time, the supremest transportation spell known to man has been revealed to the public. Spies, watching from the rooftops and the crowds squinted, trying to figure out what they were seeing.
Wizzomatic stepped through without hesitation, and the gate closed.
***
Interlude: Olaf ("Random Grunt")
Ever since the Sunlight Scripture went to Heaven, Olaf had memory problems. Nightly bouts of terror attacks also plagued him.
Because the Sunlight Scripture accepted only the most exemplary among the most exemplary, psychological inadequacies are not acceptable. Olaf was given an honorable discharge, then, at his own request, transferred to a simple knight division. Seeing what word now went through the Theocracy, this may have been the biggest career mistake of his life.
He should have retired.
Not to mention that his peers thought of him as a madman. Everyone thought that he, being chosen to see Heaven, was idiotic. Since no one believed Olaf, he kept quiet and to himself, simply obeying his commanding officer's orders and trying to serve the Six Great Gods in whatever manner they pleased.
Their battalion, three-hundred men strong, passed on a scouting ran near the border, at the order of the Cardinals. They were meant to confirm enemy presence and reinforce the eastern parts of the border.
However, on a march through the forest, one of the scouts rode up to the commanding officer on a horse and told him to look into the sky.
A man, beautiful, in white robes was there.
How come Olaf recognized the figure? He could swear he saw that man one day, and then it hit him. This was Wizzomatic of Cybertron, their enemy.
Olaf, being an infantry warrior, could only watch as archers fired their bows with stupendous might at the flying magic caster, and yet it did nothing to him. The arrows simply veered off, or stopped before hitting him.
Magic was even more ineffective, dispersing moments before impact.
A magically amplified voice said, "Fools of the Theocracy, hear me! Your leaders have broken the sanctity of my lands by doing as they please with that which is mine. To slay people is a sin, and to do so wantonly is a great sin. A great sin must be met with great punishment. Therefore––––"
Suddenly, everything went white, as if the hammer of God had struck them.
Surprisingly, no one died.
The next time Olaf came to, the war was over, and there was no more Theocracy, at least not as how he knew it.
***
Interlude: Elites of the Slane Theocracy
Wizzomatic had been at it for several consecutive days. He had Ichika keep track of his 'kills,' even though he didn't kill a single man. He used only non-lethal spells and psionics to make enemies fall into a comatose state for several days.
Honestly, he had already conquered almost everything north of the Holy City.
Each knight of the Theocracy was around Level 16 to 18, easily on par with the best Gold-rank Adventurers and the average Platinum-rank. Each of these knights was, quite literally, a peak-human warrior. They were the best that mankind had to offer, and they were aided by spellcasters with access to 4th Tier Magic, clerics who could heal them, special units with training for dealing with powerful singular targets, and far, far more.
And yet, no matter what they threw at Wizzomatic, it could not compete. Day by day, he defeated armies all by himself. Not a single soldier from the Re-Estize Kingdom had crossed the border since the day the war began, and the same went for the troops of the Theocracy.
No one got to go through without his say-so.
In short, the Theocracy became an ant colony, and Wizzomatic was a preying mantis freely skidding through and slaying (not in a literal sense,) any scout, drone, worker, gatherer, or even queen that he came across with inexplicable ease.
No ant could leave or escape, and no one else could come in to save them. The entire country was at his mercy, and none of them even knew it yet.
Frankly, it was getting monotone. Ichika sought soldiers with scrying, Wizzomatic flew at Mach 2 toward them, quickly pacified them, then moved onto the next army.
The Cardinals were worried, back in the Holy City, because they were scared of the radio silence.
They weren't afraid that all of the Theocracy's non-specialized divisions were taken out in just one and a half days. One-hundred and ten thousand soldiers wiped out in less than two days, and Wizzomatic still had easily enough steam to keep going.
That's when the last battle occurred, at the mark of the seventh day of his conquest.
The Holy City throbbed in its blue colors and the dark grey cathedral buildings in the distance.
Wizzomatic landed on the ground, around a kilometer outside the city. In perfect range to be spotted by the watchtowers. It didn't take long for the information to be relayed and a defense force to be gathered at the walls. Magic barriers were erected around the city to keep him out.
Zesshi stared from her balcony, unimpressed. The Captain of the Black Scripture stood beside her, hands behind his back and his eyes suggesting he was heavily in thought.
"Is he as strong as they say?" Zesshi asked.
The Captain, still sinking in thought, told her, "He took down all of our armies in one week."
She smirked.
*
"Hear me, fools of the Slane Theocracy!"
His voice went through every street, every alley, every home, and every cathedral. No place was inviolable, and no ear was deaf to his speech.
"I am Wizzomatic of Cybertron, the Lord Marshall of the Re-Estize Kingdom, and I have come here for the heads of the Cardinals who ordered my people to be hurt. If I do not receive their heads in one day, I will become displeased and demolish this city. If anyone attempts to leave, they will be obliterated instantly. I will only leave if the Cardinals are handed to me. Un, those are my demands."
The spine-chilling demand went through everyone's bodies, making people stop and think.
Though the hearts of men were easily swayed, this wasn't the case for the faithful believers of the Slane Theocracy. No lawful citizen and believer in the Six Great Gods, especially in the Holy City, would even consider giving away the Cardinals to some monster.
Surely, the Six Great Gods would protect them.
That night, every person in the city gathered in the square, knelt before the statues of the Great Six, and prayed. They prayed neither to be spared nor to receive eternal life, simply allowing the Six Great Gods to choose the best fate for them, like loyal sheep.
In their prayer, they barely noticed the light appear above them.
"Faithful ones," a delicate voice called out with passionate love. "Your prayer has been accepted by the Supreme Ones! We, the Warriors of Heaven, have come to aid you."
Celestael descended with a loving smile, her wings fluttering and releasing pure white feathers. Behind her, floated a seemingly infinite vessel of the angelic choir. The host of this size could conquer the entire mainland if given time. There were rare and powerful angelic creatures in the choir, like Principality of Observation, and not one, not two, but three Dominion Authorities.
As Wizzomatic stared at the sight, he found it hard not to obliterate everything with [Fallen Down], but he decided to restrain himself. 'Fucking angels.'
Celestael quickly welcomed the leader of the defenders, introducing herself as a divine servant. She then asked who they were fighting, and when the commander replied 'Wizzomatic of Cybertron,' her face turned sour and sad, like a puppy whose heart was torn out of its chest.
"I'm sorry," she said, then faded away like an apparition made of fog, her angels following suit.
Everyone, with no exception, was in despair. People across the city considered suicide, but it was a sin, so they decided to simply accept their incoming death.
If the Six Great Gods can't help, who can?
The gates opened, and thirteen people walked through it, before it closed again.
Maybe they?
The road from the Holy City, to the rest of the Theocracy was long and straight.
On one end, far away, near the wilderness of the green forests and the lush plains, stood Wizzomatic.
On the other, the city behind their backs, stood the members of the Black Scripture.
This was the last line of defense.
*
"Who are you?" Wizzomatic asked with an indifferent voice. "You don't look like Cardinals, nor Popes."
"I am the Captain of the Black Scripture," said a man with black hair, stepping forward with the rest of the group behind him. He had sharp, red eyes and androgynous features. Though he wore ornate armor, his spear looked deceitfully humble. In truth, it was a Legacy-Tier Item.
'He's strong,' Wizzomatic thought. 'His Level is at least 60, which means he could hurt my real body, and his weapon's not too shabby either. One hit from it and I'm done. A lot of the people behind him are in that area, too. The girl with mixed brown-pink hair is the strongest, easily Level 75. She's the one I have to be most wary of.'
"I am Wizzomatic," he introduced himself with an innocent smile. "Of Cybertron, Margrave, Lord Marshall, et cetera. It doesn't matter."
The balls of Wizzomatic's heels tapped against the ground excitedly. Though weak to his true body, they were strong enough to his human body to be a threat.
"Let's fight now."
Without warning, he channeled psionic energy into his feet and kicked the ground, crossing fifteen meters and going for a punch against the Captain of the Black Scripture. To ensure the latter didn't counter-attack, Wizzomatic cast Inertial Armor, a psionic power, on himself.
However, his psionic power had enough force to propel him as fast as a literal bullet. His fist hit the Captain, who didn't even have time to move his eyes to follow the enemy. The Captain sprawled through the air, letting go of his spear as he went thirty meters across the road, making stones fall out from it.
Wizzomatic hopped back four times, deftly. Staying in place, he hopped up and down repeatedly, faux hitting the air a few times like a boxer warming up.
Even Zesshi blinked in blank surprise. She looked back at the Captain, who looked to be injured, though he was slowly standing up.
He picked up his spear, using it as a cane to help his legs stand up. As soon as he almost straightened his back, it flopped back down, clearly injured in some way. Shortly after, he hiccuped blood with a painful, strangled gurgling sound.
This made the 4th Seat, Divine Chant, realize they were fighting someone. She quickly cast healing magic on the Captain, restoring his health to peak condition.
He straightened his back, took his spear in hand, and, his voice trembling, asked, "What... are you?"
Slowly, the members of the Black Scripture moved back closer to the Captain, sans Zesshi who didn't even take a step back, just stared with her mouth lightly open.
"Does it matter? I am your enemy!" Wizzomatic scolded him, shaking his head smugly.
The Captain smartly hid the way he sent the message to the Cardinals, to use Downfall of Castle and Country. However, he didn't have protection from mind-reading. It must have been a rare ability since no one in the New World seemed to have protection from it.
Wizzomatic folded his arms, as if saying 'I dare you to try.'
In the distance, in the Holy City, a golden light washed over one of the tallest watchtowers.
'He's not moving?' the Captain thought, considering whether or not he should cancel the attack.
But it was too late. The gold dragon went through the air, coiling its long body, and hitting Wizzomatic...
"Is that all?"
To no tangible effect. World Items protect from other World Items, and Wizzomatic had taken Aa'straad with him.
"It doesn't seem it's working," said Time Turbulence.
"Ya think?!" Thousand Leagues Astrologer replied irritedly.
"Fine, my turn," he said casually. "[Triplet Maximize Magic Greater Magic Seal]."
The spell that Wizzomatic just incanted was one of the best high-Tier spells for combat with numerous opponents.
Nine magic circles manifested in the air, flanking Wizzomatic. Without warning, each one shot out a volley of thirty shots, depleting their ammunition in little more than two seconds, with each shot being around the strength of a rocket.
Obviously, he focused half of the fire on the healer and split the other half between Zesshi and the Captain.
Divine Chant, holder of the 4th Seat, erected a venerable holy barrier to protect her comrades, but less than a quarter of the magic arrows were required to break through and stuff her with magical energy, pretty much bringing her to the verge of death.
The Captain and Zesshi both held out, dodging and knocking the arrows out of the air.
Before anyone else could apply magic or a potion on Divine Chant, Wizzomatic cast [Earth Surge] enveloping her in a small mound of dirt and stone. They could definitely dig it back up, but not in combat.
Next, he prioritized the 8th Seat, Cedran. He was the party tank and shielder, so naturally, he had to be taken out after the healer.
But the Black Scripture finally counter-attacked.
Wizzomatic cast [Haste] on himself, then nimbly evaded attacks from the Black Scripture members. Up, down, front, diagonal, horizontal, straight, left, right, vertical. All manner of cuts, stabs, and attempts at bludgeoning him were dodged through a mixture of Telepathy, Telekinesis, and Haste.
Wizzomatic loaded his legs with energy, and like springs, they released it, launching him into the air, his white robe fluttering behind him. He cast [Acid Storm] thrice in a row, then followed it up by five consecutive [Delay Magic Fireball] spells. The former directed upward, and the latter at the ground.
Cedran raised his shields to protect himself and the rest of the party from the acid rain that befell them, but his equipment seemed to corrode from it. The solvents digested his shields, which were Top-Tier equipment by YGGDRASIL standards. Within moments, he was defenseless.
Defenseless, just in time for the five Fireballs to roast him. Wizzomatic put his body in a casket of the earth.
Desperately, the Captain of the Black Scripture gave out commands, barked orders, gave advice, told the members to watch out, but it was useless.
They attacked, they defended, but Wizzomatic took down one after another. 5th Seat, 12th Seat, 3rd Seat, and so on. Martial arts users, magic casters, skill users, assassins, specialists, even that guy with a chain. All fell one after the other and were surrounded by graves of the earth. Defeat by psionic energy bolts, defeat by a biomantic cloud of microbes, defeat by a wave of sleep.
Wizzomatic targeted each opponents' particular weakness, taking down one after the other without mercy. They were trifling to defeat, even though he wasn't taking them seriously.
With no regard for order, Wizzomatic took down one member after another, until only two members were left behind.
Side-to-side, the Captain and Zesshi stared down at the magic caster in front of them.
He smiled innocently, but he was a devil.
"Are you God?" Zesshi asked without fear and with only cold neutrality in her voice.
"I have been called many things, but never a God, ma'am," Wizzomatic lied. Ramposa called him God a few times, and his servants often called him Supreme One. In addition, denizens of Carne Village were forming a cult revolving around his worship.
"Well, that's fine, but you're clearly something else entirely," Zesshi says, a streak of blood beginning to flow down her forehead. "You looked weak; a piddling magic caster. It felt like you were weak, too, but you're actually the strongest man in this world, aren't you?"
"What if I am?" Wizzomatic asked smugly.
A moment of contemplation passed.
"Oi, Captain. Retreat," Zesshi ordered; a grin beginning to form on her face.
He felt hesitant. After a moment, he replied bitterly, "Retreat, and give the city to this monster? No way in hell."
Zesshi, blind to his antagonism, answered, "I can take him. And if I can't, you can't either. Save yourself time and more importantly, your life."
That seemed to have convinced him. The Captain of the Black Scripture withdrew. "I'll send in healers as soon as possible." He then ran in the direction of the city, though Wizzomatic knew that he wasn't a coward. He simply felt that Zesshi's argument was logical.
"Not gonna let that happen," Wizzomatic chirped happily, casting [Silent Maximize Over Magic Earth Fist]. A fist made of stone shot out from underneath the Captain's feet, grasping him and slowly crushing him. Since such strong metamagic had been applied to it, not even he would slither out.
Zesshi seemed to ignore his stifled grunts of pain, which ended only after a few seconds of resistance.
Instead, she looked at Wizzomatic.
'To think there is someone who can beat the elite Black Scripture of the Theocracy!' she thought, a grin growing on her face.
The two of them faced each other, a space of twenty meters between them. While she was thinking, he was silently casting buffing spells on himself to prepare himself for the encounter ahead. He could beat her easily in his true form, but with this weak body, the outcome was doubtful unless he went all-out in terms of spellcasting.
While he did that, Zesshi smiled at him, as if sensing his actions.
"Ah, to think..." Zesshi muttered, her cheeks becoming red and her face twisting into a sickening, toothy grin. "That there's someone who might be capable of beating me!" She charged, scythe swinging about.
Wizzomatic hopped back. Although Zesshi's statistics left much to be desired, Wizzomatic's physical statistics, including agility, were still vastly below hers. He could only dodge by using [Haste] and channeling kinetic energy into his body to make it move faster. Even then, her blows almost landed.
One swing, then another and another. Each one narrowly avoided. It seems that she wasn't fighting seriously until right now, either. Now that he had taken out her allies, he proved himself worthy. That's what she felt, at least, judging from her surface thoughts.
Zesshi swung her scythe low, aiming at his feet. Wizzomatic cast [Fly], lifted himself a few meters into the air, and cast [Stream of Lava] in her direction.
Zesshi spun her scythe like a rotor blade, successfully activating a defense skill. The lava was blown away from her.
She could use skills? Did she inherit that from her parents? As far as he could tell, New Worlders rarely had Active Skills, though they could have Talents, Passive Skills, and Martial Arts. What she used was an Active Skill, which said some interesting things about eugenics in the New World.
"Hah, I see!" Wizzomatic landed on the ground with his feet. "You're quite strong, too. I'll bestow my ultimate attack upon you!" he said, a complete bluff.
Wizzomatic activated [Perfect Warrior] for the first time in the fight, converting his magic caster levels into fighter levels. Then, he cast [Silent Magic Black Blade], which was a lesser version of the [Black Blade of Disaster] spell, which could disintegrate anything it hit.
In this case, it simply inflicted massive damage.
Upon casting it, a black rift in space, shaped like a sword, appeared in Wizzomatic's hand. As he moved it, the imaginary space behind it changed, as though it was a lens through which one can look past the earth and atmosphere and see another universe.
"Ha, come on, then!" she barked.
The two charged each other, and a moment before impact, Wizzomatic cast [Time Stop], slashed her lightly across the chest, then moved beside her and prepared to continue running as soon as it ended.
Frankly, he had no chance of winning otherwise. Even with Perfect Warrior and Haste, Zesshi's speed and reflexes would be superior to even those of his current, homunculus body. Had he fought in his True Form, he would've definitely been capable of brute-forcing her a little. Frankly, she qualified as a strong opponent for his Human Body.
Then, the Time Stop ended and Zesshi slumped to the ground. From her perspective, she was beaten with a slash, no time-stopping involved.
But it didn't matter, because instead of closing her eyes and resting, she turned onto her back and breathed out heavily.
"Y-You beat me..." she said, dumbfounded, as if having discovered a new exotic dish of exquisite taste, holding the place where she was wounded to prevent bleeding.
Wizzomatic's Black Blade fizzled out of existence as he spun around.
"Yes, I beat all of the Black Scripture. Now, the Cardinals will su–"
"Bear my children! I do not care where you come from, I demand you, no, I beg you to have children with me!" she said, thirstier than a sponge.
"–rely... sub... mit?"
He stared at her, blank-faced, not knowing what to say.
That is, until she desperately said, no, rather, she begged, "If you wish, take me right here and now!"
Her face was steaming, it was red, and she was breathing and neglecting the fact she was injured in favor of having a procreative session in the middle of a battlefield, just after he almost killed her.
Wizzomatic launched into a very rapid, internal monologue:
'Why do I have to get all the weirdos? I bet Ainz is having fun with his cute succubus and vampire waifus right now... And alas, here I am, stuck with ecdysiast pervert maid, overly-attached, clingy queen, and now, demigod warrior who is in-heat for anyone who beats her in combat. I won't even bother counting Celestael – her thoughts don't deviate in that direction often, but she has it out for me, too, and her closet BDSM fetishes do not put a smile on my face. In any case, why do I feel like my destiny is to cultivate a harem of unreasonable women? Is this a curse? Punishment for being greedy in life? No, wait, wouldn't this be punishment for someone who was lustful? Kami-sama, why me? I have sinned, but this is too much...'
As he contemplated all these thoughts, staring off into empty space like a broken vending machine, Zesshi moaned in a mixture of pain and joy at having found someone who can beat her and have her offspring.
Wizzomatic kept standing there, broken, for around a minute, until he realized that he obliterated (non-lethally, as they were all still breathing; the dirt was magically porous,) the Black Scripture, which was the last line of defense for the Theocracy.
In other words, the entire country was his. All he had to do was meet with the Cardinals and decide what to do with them and how to control them.
Should he declare his Godhood? Claim to be Alah Alaf? Control them with Enchantments?
Well, for now, he looked down at Zesshi and said, "Try next year. [Maximize Over Magic Sleep]."
Her mind, already weakened by arousal and simultaneous pain, easily submitted to his spell.
With that, it was fair to say that he had beaten every single soldier in the Slane Theocracy on his own in under a week. He received light support from Ichika, but Wizzomatic personally didn't think it mattered too much.
More importantly, he was scared about what the other countries would now think of him. Surely, the continent would turn itself inside out when everyone processed that this one, single magic caster beat the biggest superpower on the entire continent in a week, all by himself, their special assets included.
Without a doubt, the Re-Estize Kingdom would take center stage now, with him being its denizen and servant.
Also, he noted to himself: 'Loot the Theocracy's World Items and add them to my treasury.' He also thought about confiscating all loot above Relic-Tier, but that may have been going too far.
***
REPORT STATION -- (Current Date: 54th Day Post-Transition)
MAJOR EVENTS:
- Wizzomatic equipped the Divine-Tier Equipment Set: [Scorch-R] in his Human Form.
- Ichika Toufexidis is accompanying Wizzomatic until the war is over, and will communicate and coordinate with him.
- Wizzomatic's Human body was advanced to LV30, optimized for durability and agility.
- The Black Scripture was defeated, and its members have been wounded. They will survive; Wizzomatic made sure of that, but they aren't fighting anytime soon.
- The Holy City is defenseless. Capture or leave it, as you please.
MINOR EVENTS (unrelated to vote)
- Shale Gilmore's Glorious Goods made a revenue of 22 gold coins today. Gilmore predicts sales will fall considerably for the next season.
- Agatha returned to the Laputa, reporting her findings on the Dwarven Kingdom in detail.
- Strategy Meeting with Kaori, Lord Adorable (unavailable, replaced by Serpentireon), Demiurge, Albedo, and Ainz was held.
PLANNED EVENTS
- 56th PT: Meeting with Vrillian Boyard Egil Boundera, third son of Marquis Boundera, regarding his newly obtained magic talent.
- 64nd PT: Meeting with Avacyn Krose Roy Harloy, second son of Count Harloy, regarding his newly obtained magic talent.
- ~182th PT+: The experimental Data Crystal tree saplings will grow up.
- ~190th PT: The Educational District in E-Rantel will be mostly finished.
- ~200th PT: The Magic Academy, as well as the Adventurer School in E-Rantel will both be ready to open.
***
WIZZOMATIC - ACTIONS & DASHBOARD
Vote by Plan.
[] Direct Action - The character attempts to carry out the described action the closest to how it is described.
[] Add Repeating Action - Character automatically carries out a certain action when certain conditions are met.
[] Remove Repeating Action - Removes a repeating action.
[] Timeskip Until (When) - Automatically pass time until the specified time, condition, or event. (This will not skip important events.)
[] Side-Story: (Character) - Next update includes a side story or element written from the perspective of a character other than Wizzomatic. Players can have some involvement in what the characters in service of Cybertron are doing in these side-stories. (ie: "Kenny: Goes On A Quest.")
-[] Minor Interlude - A short self-contained story. No longer than one "part" of a chapter.
-[] Major Interlude - A longer story about the chosen character. As long as a full chapter, and will either precede or follow the next chapter. Expect it to take some time to write.
[] Write-in - (Something else?)
Repeating Actions List:
- Perform biomantic experiments with flora and fauna.
- Meet with the strategists from both Guilds regularly to discuss important topics.
- Assist Carne Village when other, higher-priority matters aren't pressing. If they are likely to be attacked and/or wiped out in the near future, better to live under Cybertron's protection than die under the false protection of their previous patrons. If they disagree, help them invisibly anyway. A living village can be studied indefinitely, a dead one is merely a snap-shot of this new world. Even if our assistance taints the viewing somewhat.
- Every time a New World Religion is learned of, have a document prepared for our perusal informing us of how it works and its leadership. Subtly infiltrate religious organizations over time.
- Every time a new large government is discovered, have a document prepared for our perusal informing us of how it works and its leadership. Subtly infiltrate Governments over time.
- Attempt to recreate Earth tech, or magical technology that can imitate Earth tech.
- Continue work on the Mega-Brain and the bio-mecha meant to be used alongside it.
- Call Ainz using the "dono" or "sama" suffix in public, and vice versa.
- Have your NPCs spread rumors that Wizzomatic of Cybertron has heard of legends of ways to surpass human limits. If any accept the 'quest' set it up so that they end up in Cybertron where you will try experiments to increase the limits of natives. Try to be humane about it as possible. Whether successful or not send the natives back home in as perfect condition as possible.
Vote Duration: 24-72 hours.
