Round 31: The Path We Choose (III)

You fools think Peaceful Majesty is just some inexplicable broken god who can be dealt with with a little brainpower and luck. She isn’t! Get it?
—Some kind-hearted resident of Cage City.

The Lower District is a detestable place, second only to the Nest. Clanging blacksmith shops, shabby factories of all sizes choked in smoke, warehouses lurking in the dim rain… The air is thick with a strong sulfur smell. Most houses and streets are covered in a gray-brown layer of grime, likely formed from various industrial dusts, which turns even dirtier as rainwater flows over them, quietly mixing into this huge vat called Marked City.

But Moriel likes it. Like all women, she despises foul smells, filthy environments, insects crawling everywhere, and piles of unwashed underwear—but she’s equally fascinated by clotheslines strung with wet clothes, half-hidden old windows on aged walls, and labyrinthine streets. It’s a grand nest for the humble, a spectacular miracle of crude goods, and most importantly, she loves the vibrant energy these people exhibit despite the heavy burdens of worries, distress, misfortune, and despair.

In such an environment, she feels like she’s in her element.

A craftsman scolds and shoves away his apprentice—apparently because of his clumsiness, but actually to hide his not-so-rare quenching technique. The female mage walks openly through their messy workshops; the rising flames obscure the craftsman’s view, and the apprentice pauses his work to peek at his teacher’s process. The clanging of tools masks Moriel’s already soft footsteps. Indeed, sneaking through here is easy enough, but doing it without even bending over is quite difficult. It requires opportunity, and just one or two isn’t enough. An opportunity can arise at any moment, demanding a decision. A vast array of spells flows from her mind as she murmurs them, extending into threads of magical power that touch the mysterious depths, revealing possible connections between things and guiding her to choose the path that suits her best. Now, Moriel is much stronger than she was in the Agus Empire; she can cast these advanced spells that predict fate without relying on complicated materials and steps—like playing an RTS game with a map. No wonder an excellent prophet mage would be a headache for any opponent.

Moriel stops behind a ruined wall. In her magical vision, Cynis’s bald head glows like a light bulb. Silent, invisible servants surround him, serving both as scouts and guards—though these invisible ghosts are just a minor part of the chief spellcaster’s army of Pokémons. Cynis has always loved the feeling of being in charge. It’s an open secret that many bandit groups rampaging along trade routes and tribes of evil races like goblins and orcs are under his command. There are even rumors that he’s made a pact with demons and has a private army of creatures from the lower realms.

Yet it was precisely because of Sinis’s arrogant personality that he still looked down on Moriel and was far less cautious than Andre. His domineering presence, which always made others obey without question, led to an overinflated sense of confidence. As a result, the magical effects reflected back from the chief of spellcraft were like a large moth struggling desperately in a spiderweb.

To truly defeat him, however, one still had to go all out and be extremely careful. The female mage hid in the shadows of the ruined walls, “happily” out of Sinis’s detection range. She carefully regulated her breathing and heartbeat, almost entering a semi-hypnotic state, remaining utterly still as she patiently waited for an opportunity—forty-seven indeed didn’t make her wait long.

The sudden thunder and lightning also drew Sinis’s attention, and Moriel seized the chance to launch a sudden attack. Dozens of magical projectiles, skillfully guided by her, took advantage of the intense light to rain down on the chief of spellcraft, catching him off guard. A storm of advanced projectiles tore through his minions like a small meteor shower, destroying their weak spiritual bodies and their faint cries as they vanished into the rainy night.

“Moriel!” Sinis let out a low, vulture-like screech, his eyes blazing with fury, and the patterns on his bald head writhed like snakes. Countless barbed iron chains flew out from the sleeves of his robe, quickly forming a dark barrier. When the magical projectiles struck it, they flickered briefly before being swallowed by the writhing wall. Immediately afterward, the chains transformed again, surging toward the female mage like a tide—the speed of the spells was lightning-fast. In the blink of an eye, Moriel was surrounded by three monstrous human-shaped forms made of chains, which intertwined and stretched around her, forming a net meant to strangle her to death.

A sudden sonic blast made space seem to tremble, as the magical energy forming the solid chains shattered piece by piece. A low-frequency noise wave spread out, drowning out all surrounding sounds, causing her to experience ringing in her ears and temporarily go deaf. Moriel had no time to worry about this; her familiarity with spells was such that she would never mispronounce them even if she couldn’t hear. The key to striking first was to act decisively, never giving the opponent a chance to catch their breath. Once an enemy of Sinis’s caliber managed to steady themselves and recover, defeating them would become nearly impossible. Without pause, she charged straight at Sinis, unleashing another wave of projectile storms that forced him to retreat repeatedly, trying to gain distance and regroup.

When faced with an attack, the chief wasn’t someone who was elected through democratic voting. Summoned creatures appeared out of thin air once again, serving as Sinis’s living shields and scapegoats. Moreover, Moriel had to use additional chain lightning to completely crush their counterattacks.

“Foolish—even lowly sorcerers wouldn’t attack so recklessly!” Sinis raised his hand, and a cold wind stirred the rain. A few sickly green lights appeared, their deadly outlines outlined by the frosty rain. The master then unleashed crackling arcs of high-voltage electricity that jumped between the ghosts, harming any creature in their path. This wouldn’t harm Moriel, but she wasn’t invincible either. A brief delay was enough for Sinis to summon more advanced pawns, causing her even greater trouble and allowing him to enter his preferred combat rhythm.

Two Abysal Dragon Demons appeared beside the chief. These dragon-like Batzu creatures emitted a stench from hell the moment they appeared, their dark red scales carrying an ominous aura. Their blood-red eyes turned as they fixed their gaze on the female mage who had just driven away the evil spirits. At Sinis’s command, they lunged at her—tearing through delicate flesh and savoring the taste of blood and despair was so sweet, so tempting. Otherwise, why would they sign contracts with inferior humanoids?

Strangely, Moriel neither dodged nor avoided, advancing while preparing spells, seemingly having no means to stop the swift Abysal Dragon Demons or their sharp claws.

The female mage certainly wasn’t going to just die passively. Their battlefield was an alley, with an old, ruined arch separating the two mages. Whatever this odd structure had once been—perhaps a remnant of a once-glorious mansion in Seal City—it now served as a “door.” A flash of light, like lightning, created a sudden spatial vortex that sucked the two Abysal Dragon Demons in—or rather, they crashed into it.

The stunned mentor instinctively sidestepped, feeling excruciating pain in his left shoulder. Damn that brat! This was her trap! City of Ten Thousand Doors wasn’t as hospitable as its name suggested. Without the right door and key, no one could come here for a visit. Many exotic creatures sworn to Sinis’s service couldn’t be summoned directly—Abysal Dragon Demons were brought here only through special means, but sending them out via a properly opened portal was much simpler.

Moriel had detected a portal that could open for demons from the lower realms and knew Sinis would surely summon monsters to assist him, which was why she wanted to launch a fierce attack to draw the mentor over. Though she didn’t know where this portal led, who cared? As long as it wasn’t a problem for her.

“You should change your tactics, Mentor Sinis!” A slight mistake in battle could be fatal for a mage. Moriel was now close enough to the mentor; with just a thought, she could unleash her magic sword, piercing his shoulder, cutting through his bones and organs—victory was within reach.

A flame erupted where the female mage stood. It was so fierce and intense that it instantly turned into a huge blue-white fireball, greedily devouring everything it touched. With a destruction comparable to that caused by Forty-Seven, it enveloped Sinis as well. After rising and spreading for a few seconds, it suddenly contracted, turning into a high-density column of flame that pushed its victims headfirst into the houses along the road—dark clouds swirling, red snakes dancing, an entire block engulfed in flames. In the scorching wind, faint cries and screams of residents could be heard.

“Abdul!” Sinis seemed accustomed to shouting people’s names angrily to express his frustration. He looked utterly disheveled, covered in burns, with his robe on fire. “Do you want to kill me?”

“You’d already be dead if I didn’t act! Isn’t this the tactic we agreed on?” A burst of flames revealed Abdul, as fat as a bear, spitting on the ground.

“The thing you gave me couldn’t fully defend against your spells!” Cynis accused.
“I only said it could save your life,” snorted the Head ofMolding Magic Magic. “If it were that easy to block, what’s the difference from ordinary fire spells? — Hey, stop arguing about this. That girl is still alive!”
Morrill stepped steadily out of the fire. A faintly glowing barrier surrounded her, like a thin layer of water. This protective field emitted a hissing sound of static electricity; the raging flames were dispersed the moment they touched it, and the shield flickered until the female mage reached safety, at which point it collapsed and disappeared.
Abdel narrowed his eyes. “Impressive. Did you learn this from Agus? I’d trade a stronghold for this spell.”
“We’ll have to discuss this when no one else is around,” Morrill replied with a smile.
The fat on the Head ofMolding Magic Magic’s face trembled as he noticed Cynis’s furious expression.
“What a shame, little Morrill. You’re very talented—no wonder that idiot Ale was completely fooled by you. But you can’t escape. Two is always greater than one. Why not cooperate? That way, fewer people will get hurt.”
“You’re right…”
The light rain couldn’t do anything to the raging flames; the raindrops evaporated into mist the moment they touched the flames. The mist… a faint mist swirled in the wind, going unnoticed until the air started to cool.
A slender, pale hand grabbed Cynis’s sleeve. The Head ofMagic Magic’s eyes widened instantly—his body flashed briefly, but the teleportation spell didn’t work as intended, and he remained in place. The mist gathered around him, seeping into his skin, quickly turning his face pale. Cynis’s mouth opened wide; a puff of mist rolled in his mouth and disappeared down his throat. Then his eyes froze, and others could clearly see the life force in his mentor extinguish. Once the hand in the mist let go, he collapsed to the ground—raindrops fell on his frozen body, instantly turning it to frost.
“Two is always greater than one.” Watching Cynis perish, Morrill didn’t seem very happy. “Where’s Kayro?”
“She’s asleep,” the girl said, fiddling with her pendant as she walked over, smiling sweetly. “Of course… temporarily.”
“We must work together! Things are getting complicated!” An energy-based silhouette descended through the fireworks, taking the form of Andrei, who had come seeking help. Only after overcoming the dizziness from phase transition did he realize how serious the situation had become.
“Cynis—he’s—damn!”
Philgas, who had followed, wasn’t like some who tried to please Morrill. With an arrow nocked, he was ready to strike—Andrei’s only chance to breathe was because she had found a more important target. The enhanced half-goat magic arrows exploded like bombs, each fragment a shrieking poison tooth. Her enchanting, gleaming figure passed through the deadly rain like smoke, creating several afterimages at incredible speeds, each just as real, all heading toward the female mage.

Before anyone could react, a pile of smoking, rumbling junk rushed forward. Forty-Seven disassembled himself—his internal organs, arms, and legs all spewing flames and steam as they operated independently. Even if he were still connected to others, it would be impossible to tell, as he descended in a chaotic swarm of flying berserkers, attacking everyone indiscriminately. Amid a series of explosions, one steel woman was captured, while the others scattered under the onslaught.

The parts clattered together to reassemble into Iron Man, but not in the order they had been disassembled. He didn’t remember that order, nor did he care about how weird others might find his iron waist transforming into shoulder plates.

“If you kept running, I might not have been able to catch you. But now—” He grabbed the steel woman’s limbs and lifted her. “Uncle is very angry!”

It seemed Forty-Seven was truly enraged. With a metallic clang, he began to grow larger, his powerful steel claws firmly gripping Kari, as seven or eight cannons sprouted from his body, ready to deliver a devastating strike.

Some so-called strong ones? Just a bunch of fools! Euphony stood by the roadside, head bowed, staring at her dirty, thin toes. The little demon named Pipi hid beside her, having used its innate invisibility ability, but Euphony didn’t need to look to know it was trembling just like her, too scared to move.

Although Imprint City was filled with rival factions, each claiming its own power, only she—she was the supreme, unquestionable ruler here.

Without a majestic presence or commanding authority, she brought only a suffocating silence and calm—no one even knew if that was what she desired. Because she didn’t care, didn’t pay attention, ignored everything, and didn’t communicate. She ruled over the city itself, not its people, though the residents would indirectly benefit from her protection. One had to learn to revere her, avoid her, not speak of her often, and if necessary, remember to address her with respect. Never even think of asking her for favors, defying her, or defeating her—how foolish would that be?

Euphony swore she didn’t want to look, but she accidentally caught a glimpse of a cold reflection in the puddles on the road. A chill rushed from her feet to her head, and her heart felt as if it had been split in two. A prostitute had never been so certain that she was about to meet her end—be it by passing by or being purged? Euphony could only stand there in silence, soaked in the spreading stillness.

At the same time, Loli, the mature woman, the mages, and the two fighting mechs also saw her. It was strange yet normal—even if they were in different places, wouldn’t they still see the same Imprint City?

Peaceful Majesty floated a few feet above the ground, her tall figure silently passing through the flames, as if she didn’t exist, or as if the flames didn’t exist. Her indifferent face was surrounded by gleaming blades, and the hem of her brown robe spread out into rows of sharp edges, swirling slowly without disturbing a speck of dust.

This is an existence that cannot be resisted at all. Morriel realized this the moment she saw her—not because of overwhelming force, but through sheer understanding; she had never felt such things even when facing the embodiment of the Prince Murderer. Though many dimensional records mentioned this woman in vague and strange ways, only by truly confronting her and drawing her attention could one understand just how terrible it was to be under her gaze.

She did not target the “weak.” The Tin Man released the Steel Woman, and the two mortal enemies now shared a common enemy. Forty-Seven took a deep breath and continued to transform into an even larger steel beast, seemingly aiming to reach the other end of Seal City—hissing streams of heat erupted from its mechanical joints, and its guns were pointed in the direction where peace was approaching. The Steel Woman also soared into the air, unfurling her dazzlingly bright wings.

But the Lady was already approaching. Neither Forty-Seven nor Keri could complete their transformations fully. Some invisible, immense force quietly gripped them, growing stronger by the second. The giant Tin Man lowered his head and roared at her, flames spewing from his mouth, yet no sound was heard. The will of the Calm Sovereign was as unstoppable as the workings of the multiverse, not even allowing for a faint struggle. As she drifted toward them, they vanished before they could hinder her movement. Those two overwhelmingly powerful constructs disappeared in the blink of an eye.

A faint glimmer of light flashed across the silently moving blades before vanishing as well. The Lady came quietly and left quietly, without any special actions or glances at anyone, yet the cold sweat on the archmages’ bodies was no less than that of humble prostitutes.

Morriel stared blankly at where Forty-Seven had disappeared, not worried at all that her mentors might take the chance to attack her.

After a long while, she let out a soft sigh, her voice calm in a way that didn’t sound like hers.

“Guys, since we’re still in Seal City, shouldn’t we stop fighting?”