Apocalypse Tamer

The Eiffel Tower impaled the Maleking like a fish on a stick.

Its frozen tip pierced through the monster’s iron hide and thick hard flesh. The projectile, carried by both its immense momentum and Shellgirl’s final buff, pinned the Maleking onto the desolate land below. An oil spill worth of thick black blood sprayed the earth before swiftly turning to smoke. The monster collapsed under the giant spear’s weight and found himself slowly pounded into the dust.

Supereffective hit! Critical hit! You have reached the damage threshold and require a Perk to exceed it! 99,999 [Frost] and [Physical] damage!

It worked, Basil thought, his pulse quickening in excitement. I have him now!

The Maleking did not scream in pain or rage. His shining eyes glared defiantly at Basil, his sword surging forward in retaliation.

Your supereffective hit triggered the [Mark of Cain]! The Maleking’s next blow will hit you for sevenfold damage!

Even on the verge of death, the demon lord went for one last shot. His titanic sword cut the air in a final swing. The screaming souls wreathing the blade erupted in a tidal wave of darkness traveling through the air. The flood traveled up the Eiffel Tower’s length, rusting steel and aiming straight for Basil. They swallowed the entire horizon in their hunger, leaving no avenue of escape.

Basil faced these damned spirits with resolve. “Time Leap.”

Once again the Chronomancer jumped through time itself. Space bent before his might. The fabric of reality skipped forward, allowing Basil to escape the flood. One second he faced a torrent of screaming souls; they were gone the next, flying behind him and toward the shattered skies.

Basil fell down, towards the Maleking’s impaled carcass. The light had left the demon king’s eyes. His sword had slipped through his hand and onto the earth, the body slumping against the Eiffel Tower.

Basil smiled in triumph… only for it to fade away with a notification.

Rosemarine Eglantine de la Barthe has left your party.

“Rosemarine?” Basil’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “No… no way, my sweet flower–”

A red beam shot him through the chest.

The attack came from below, as swift as a guillotine. Basil’s chest hurt like never before. His nerves flared all at once and set his body ablaze from within. It was as if lightning coursed through every single of his cells.

No. No, lightning wasn’t a good enough description. There was pain, and then there was pain. Basil had been struck by thunder, crushed under Apollyon’s hand, pounded into the dust by Blackcinders, impaled by Brina’s blades. He had survived a thousand wounds, and none hurt as much as this one.

“Did you truly think you could use the same trick twice in a row, Basil?”

It’s impossible. A terrible dizziness seized Basil’s faltering mind. Though his limbs went numb, he mustered enough strength to look at the Maleking’s skull. He’s dead. I killed him.

The light had left the Maleking’s eyes, that was true enough. However, something had risen from the corpse. A festering shadow of flickering smoke emerged out of the Maleking’s skull, slowly taking shape. Four red eyes burning with malice opened within this void and returned Basil’s stare.

What did Shakespear say once?

The evil that men do lives after them.

It worked the same for demons.

Your life is slipping away…

“You should be honored to have come this far, Basil,” said the shadow. His tone was deep, sincere. Almost sad. “But our bout ends here.”

Basil glanced down at his chest.

A smoking hole burned where his heart should have been.

Can’t… A numbness spread through Basil’s limbs, and the taste of blood filled his mouth. He felt cold, so very cold. His lungs did not rise when his brain demanded it. Can’t… feel my legs.

Basil’s body plummeted onto the earth below. He lost consciousness long before he reached it.

Darkness had long since swallowed the mind.

Basil Bohen

HP: 0/3480

A god answered Vasi’s prayer with an earth-shattering roar.

His immense wingspan expanded before the witch as the God Card crumbled to dust. Ruby scales laden with solid gold materialized out of thin air. Claws sharper than blades appeared at the end of limbs powerful enough to sunder castles. The dragon’s tail summoned the wind with a swing, and a crown of pure light glowed atop the great beast’s head.

In her panic, Wyrde threw her prismatic orb at Vasi in a vain attempt to stop the inevitable. Her projectile harmlessly bounced off the red dragon’s chest without even scratching the scales.

You have summoned a level 99 avatar of Vainqueur Knightsbane, supreme god of Outremonde; he will remain active for 3 minutes, after which he will return to his home plane.

“You dare summon me at a time like this?” A great cloud of smoke escaped from Vainqueur Knightsbane’s nostrils. His colossal body towered Vasi the same way the Maleking once cast Basil in his shadow. “You may be my friend’s grandchild, but you forget yourself, fairy! Our world is besieged by an iron tide as we speak! Too many minions need my protection now!”

“I apologize for my boldness, oh great emperor,” Vasi said with sincere deference. “But I brought you to the root of this disaster, so that you may snuff it out.”

“Mmm… Is that so?” Vainqueur turned his gaze to Wyrde, and immediately recoiled in disgust. “What is this hideous thing?”

Though Grandmaster Wyrde approached Vainqueur in size, the battle had not been kind to her. Oil dripped from her stumped tail and missing leg. Rosemarine’s pollen had rusted away part of her armor, exposing patches of festering flesh beneath. When compared to Vainqueur, a paragon of his race, Wyrde appeared as a twisted mockery of what a dragon should be. She had their shape, but replaced all the glory with heartless steel and broken gears.

She’s ugly inside and out, Vasi thought. “Your Majesty, this is Wyrde, the Unity’s dragonlord.”

“This creature cannot be a dragon,” Vainqueur said with a pitying sneer. “It smells of oil and death!”

Wyrde answered with a spell, though Vasi couldn’t tell if it was out of anger or delusion. “Accel Contagious Lightning!”

A torrent of lightning erupted from her claw, more than anything Ashok could ever muster. Enough electricity to wipe a small city off the map thundered at Vainqueur in a wave of destruction.

It dissipated halfway through the air. No barrier deflected them, nor did Vainqueur absorb them into his body. The bolts simply disappeared into nothingness, as if they had never existed. This show of power drew a smile on Vasi’s face, and a gasp of shock from Wyrde.

“You dare attack me? Me?!” Vainqueur’s scales brightened with flames, his body so hot that Vasi had to fly back a few feet so as not to be cooked alive. “I am Vainqueur Knightsbane! Great Calamity of all Ages, supreme god of the Outremonde Pantheon, Emperor of the World and the Albain Mountains! Prostrate yourself in penance!”

“You are false!” Wyrde snarled back, unrepentant. Her arrogance was such that she answered death with defiance. “No dragon would defend a fairy lord!”

“No dragon would be so craven as to replace their scales with brittle metal, you foolish–”

Vainqueur froze mid sentence, his eyes widening in shock. He had finally noticed Rosemarine’s head laying on the ground below. His head snapped at Wyrde, and then at Vasi in disbelief.

The witch wiped a tear off her eye. She didn’t have the strength to say a word.

“You… you have killed…” Vainqueur stared at Wyrde in disbelief. “You have killed another dragon? With your own claws?”

From his tone, the very thought sounded inconceivable to him. Dragons might compete for hoards and greatness, but they did not kill each other.

“I have slain a fool,” Wyrde replied coldly. “She fought for the wrong side and paid the price. Dis belongs to me!”

The heat radiating off Vainqueur was overwhelming. His very fists shook in their rage.

“You have killed your kindred… for what?” Vainqueur glared at the Neurotower nearby. “This cursed abomination? Has it corrupted your mind?”

“Dis will make me into a goddess!” Wyrde boasted, magic swirling around her hands. “One whose wisdom shall enlighten the cosmos itself!”

“No wise dragon boasts of their own wisdom. They earn praise by their actions, not their words.” Vainqueur turned his head away from Wyrde, as if she was unworthy of his attention. Instead he focused his gaze upon the Neurotower, and the greater threat it represented. “I shall not allow this… thing to despoil my world or this one any longer. So step aside or be squashed. If you persist in this madness, I shall show the same mercy you gave our brethren!”

“You shall not deny the Unity its victory, you ignorant twit!” Wyrde puffed herself up again. Perhaps she was under the delusion she could overcome the new challenger with brute strength, as she did the old ones. “I have fought to bring peace and unity to all lesser races across the multiverse, as is my destiny! Those who stand in my way will bend or break!”

Vainqueur’s head snapped at her, his angered eyes brimming with disgust. “Your destiny?”

“The Unity’s destiny.” Wyrde’s glass eyes blinked briefly, like a child caught snooping in a money jar. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes I do,” Vainqueur replied coldly. “I see through you, liar. You did not need this Dis to lead you astray. This pointless destruction was never about enforcing the true dragon way. This is about having things your way.”

“My path is the truest one!” Wyrde opened her maw in arrogant defiance, light building up inside her gullet. “If you were a true dragon god, you would understand!”

“A true dragon god?” Vainqueur answered her remark with a roar. “Here is something to believe in!”

Wyrde fired a bright yellow laser of light from her gullet, more light than fire. A searing beam that could easily tear through Vasi or even the Maleking.

But comparing Wyrde’s dragon breath to Vainqueur was like comparing a candle to the sun.

A cataclysmic eruption of golden flames erupted from the great dragon god’s maw, so mighty that the resulting blast whipped up enough wind to throw Vasi back. A flood of pyroclastic fumes swirled around a roaring inferno brighter than the heart of a star. Vainqueur’s breath inspired awe and dread for its sole onlooker.

Wyrde’s laser was swallowed into the inferno. The Grandmaster herself had no time to escape either. She summoned a magical shield around herself in her panic, but no spell could protect sinners from divine retribution. Vainqueur’s flames swatted aside the final forcefield and consumed Wyrde in the blink of an eye.

Vainqueur didn’t give his foe the dignity of a final speech. Wyrde could only let out a final screech of pain and disbelief, one that lasted naught but a few seconds. The metal plates protecting her were vaporized and the flesh below soon followed. So little of it remained; the dragonlord had become more machine than Wyrm, with oil for blood and a gear for a heart. Her skeleton turned to dust blown by the wind.

When Vainqueur closed his mouth at last, nothing remained of the Unity’s Grandmaster.

She had turned to ash, and her Faction’s hopes with them.

“Poor wretch.” Vainqueur shook his head. “As empty as her pride, that one.”

Grandmaster Wyrde has been slain! As you have summoned the avatar through a consumable, the experience will go to your party!

The notification—and the delicious taste of justice being done—couldn’t warm Vasi’s heart for long. Dis’ tentacles swarmed the horizon, surging from an ever-encroaching void. The world beyond Athens appeared swallowed by a sea of darkness from which only steel towers and tendrils rose.

Moreover, the Maleking’s field was still active.

“The battle is not yet done, Your Majesty,” Vasi warned the dragon god.

“I shall win it with haste.” Vainqueur turned his gaze upon the Neurotower supporting the Avatars. “Is this the heart of Dis?”

“Yes, but I know not what destroying this tower would do,” Vasi said. Though she understood the seriousness of the situation, she kept a cool enough head not to jump to conclusions. “If Your Majesty can separate the Avatars–”

“I will remove this infection immediately.” Vainqueur raised a claw at the Neurotower, only for it to flicker. “Ugh?”

To Vasi’s horror, the dragon’s body began to grow translucent. The very substance making up this avatar faltered away.

“No, no, no! I cannot go back now!” Vainqueur’s eyes grew bright with panic. “There is too much at hand–!”

He popped out of sight in the blink of an eye.

The dragon’s disappearance was so sudden, so abrupt, that Vasi could only blink in shock. Vainqueur Knightsbane was before her an instant and gone the next. She half-expected him to materialize back, as if he had teleported back to Outremonde only to return with reinforcements, but nothing of the sort happened.

Three minutes were too short of a time.

The time limit is up. Vainqueur Knightsbane has returned to his home plane!

Vasi braced herself for the worst.

The devil remained on this earth, with no god to oppose him.

Plato woke up among the dust and the dead.

You have lost all your extra lives! Your next death will be the final one!

Warning: Critical HP! Critical HP!

He had perished eight times since the world ended, and never got used to it. Each revival felt terrible. The darkness of death swallowed his consciousness, his thoughts, before spitting it back.

Even now, his featherlight body felt heavy as stone. Fatigue clouded his mind and dulled his senses. He was as vulnerable as when returned to life.

At least I made this death count. Plato looked past the storm of dust whipped up by the apocalyptic winds. The Maleking’s remains lay crushed under the shattered Eiffel Tower, both decomposing under the shadow of Dis’ Neurotower. The demon lord’s body crumbled into red particles, while the tower began rusting away. Plato could feel Dis’ steel tentacles stirring under the land and consuming it from within.

Entropy itself appeared in a hurry to consume this planet.

Your party has earned 99,000,000 EXP (24,750,000 for you). You have earned three levels (total 90), but you cannot assign them until Basil–

Plato had seen this message countless times, but this one suddenly stopped halfway. The blue screen turned red and ominous.

ERROR.

Why isn’t it ending? Plato’s heart skipped a beat in terror. The Avatars still stood atop their tower of steel and great tentacles continued spreading into the multiverse. The Maleking’s wind kept blowing. We’ve won, it should have ended.

Basil fell from the heavens above, his blood staining the earth red.

Plato’s thought came to a screeching halt at the sight. His owner, his best friend, his closest companion, had fallen unconscious to his side. His skin was a pallid shade of white, his halberd missing.

“Basil?” Plato jumped to Basil’s side in a mad dash. “Basil, now is not the time for a nap!”

His best friend did not answer. His eyes were empty, devoid of light. A gaping pit spewed blood where the heart should have been. Plato heard no pulse coming from him. No breathing.

He looked…

He looked like René when… when he…

“No… no, no, no!” Plato frantically shook his friend’s head with a paw, trying to wake him up. “Basil, stop joking! Basil! Basil!”

“Your master is dead, feline,” a dark voice declared from above. “This is Hell’s new home.”

Plato tensed up as a dark figure landed before him.

The creature was three-meters tall, a hulking giant of a humanoid carried by wings of fire. A blackened knight’s armor made up his skin, but it protected neither flesh nor bones. Plato could only see blistering flames surging from within this metal shell. This creature was a walking statue of solid darkness, a furnace kept alive by a malicious evil that refused to leave this world. Four eyes of hellfire peered through the horned helmet at Plato, appraising him, judging him.

Maleking Malacoda, Hell Unending

Level 96 [Demon/Undead]

Faction: Apocalypse Force.

The undead form of the dreadful demon king, whose mighty soul has resisted reincarnation in a final bid for the throne of Overgod. Much weaker in this shape than in his Beast of Revelation one, but no less determined to triumph.

It’s impossible. Plato simply couldn’t believe his own eyes. Basil couldn’t have… shouldn’t!

Did the Maleking’s field counter Duty Beyond Death, condemning Basil never to rise again?

“Now, will you cravenly flee this decaying world to save your life?” The Maleking raised a blackened gauntlet and summoned a terrible sword of fire within his palm. “Or will you martyr yourself trying to avenge your leader?”

Plato should have died already. The Tamer class should have seen to that. He could only see one explanation for why he wasn’t napping in the dirt. Basil had expelled him out of the party before his demise.

It wouldn’t be in vain.

Plato glared at the Maleking with all his cold rage and fury. He prepared to pounce, putting all of strength in his weakened legs. His weakness and fatigue weighed down on him, but he refused to show fear.

“Yes, stand up and fight!” The Maleking adopted a fighting stance. His body heating up, the flames within his metal shell flaring out of it. “Here's to a brave and proper death!”

Maleking Malacoda burns with malice! His [Accursed Flame] will pierce through [Fire Immunity]!

“I will pulverize you,” Plato warned, his voice cold as ice. “You won’t even see it coming.”

He followed through with a blitz of blistering speed.

The Maleking swung his sword of flames to intercept him. Though he proved quick as lightning, he was no longer a giant wielding a sword greater than most bridges. His fiery claymore was the length of his arm, and thus avoidable. Even weakened by his wounds and exhaustion, Plato leaped above the Maleking’s weapon and swiped him with claws of ice. They pierced through the monster’s armor and released a surge of searing flames.

Supereffective hit! 2805 [Physical] damage! 841 [Frost] damage!

Your supereffective blow triggered the [Mark of Cain]!

The Maleking’s counterattack followed, swift as lightning. His range, however, was now manageable. Plato leaped backward in a blink and the sword narrowingly missed him by an inch.

The Maleking took a step forward to continue with his melee assault, only for holy light to fall upon him from above. Darkness pulsated from his armor as plasma rained down from above.

Supereffective hit! 1275 [Light/Fire] damage!

“Plato!” Bugsy descended upon earth like an insectoid guardian angel. “I’m with you!”

Plato’s relief didn’t last long. Bugsy’s attack triggered the Maleking’s counterattack. A chain of blue fire materialized out of the demon lord’s hand, swift as a snake, and coiled around Bugsy’s head. The Apolloworm was flung at Plato with immense speed.

The feline swiftly dodged with a leap to the side… only to find the Maleking lunging at him with all his might.

“You fought well,” the demon lord said as he brought down his sword. “I will remember you.”

Plato closed his eyes as the blade kissed his fur. He waited for the flames to consume his flesh and sever his head from his body.

0 damage.

Plato’s eyes snapped open in shock and disbelief. They settled on the Maleking’s blazing edge, which bounced off his dust-ridden fur like plastic upon a rock. The demon lord’s eyes shone with equal astonishment.

His surprise didn’t last long. Another swing followed before Plato could retaliate, one aimed squarely at the heart. Though the feline felt the momentum behind the blow and the searing heat, the fiery sword once again failed to get past his fur.

“What is the meaning of this?” the Maleking rasped in shock. “How can it be?”

Plato knew long before the notification appeared.

Basil Bohen’s [All for One] shared the [Invincibility] status with you.

There was light, and a voice.

Do not forget.

Basil Bohen couldn’t identify the speaker. Perhaps it was an echo of his own thoughts as he lingered between life and death. Perhaps it was a long-forgotten memory. Or perhaps it was a voice whispering to him from the heavens above, encouraging him to carry on.

Whoever it was, the voice sounded like René; warm and wise.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

No matter these words’ source, they woke him up all the same.

[Permanent Buff] renewed [Duty Beyond Death]'s [Invincibility] effect!

He felt it all again. The Maleking’s final blow, the sensation of his own heart bursting inside his chest, the terrible pain racing through every nerve in his body. Such was this maddening agony that Basil couldn’t even muster the strength to scream.

Is this how Christ felt when nailed to the holy cross? Basil managed to raise his eyes and look up, but the rest of his body refused to budge. A terrible dizziness threatened to carry his mind to sleep again. His numb fingers wouldn’t move. No blood would pump his limbs into moving. The body broken… the spirit unyielding?

Duty Beyond Death wouldn’t let him die so long as the invincibility remained active. His demise was stretched on in time.

“Boss?” Bugsy was here, watching over him. “Basil, are you…”

“Can’t… Move…” Basil rasped. “Can’t… heal…”

“Stay here, Boss.” Bugsy expanded his wings of flame. “It’s our turn to protect you now.”

Basil’s eyes wandered to the battlefield, catching a glimpse of Plato and a four-eyed armored figure facing each other. Though the feline sent his best friend a gaze full of relief, he did not lower his guard.

The enemy would punish any mistake with death.

“Are you willing to bear the burden of death more than once, all to protect your own?” The Maleking had halted his assault; perhaps out of caution, maybe out of respect. Basil couldn’t tell. “What drives you to carry this cross?”

“I don’t expect someone like you… to understand…” Each word was torture to Basil. More blood poured out of his throat than breath. “But I’m a Tamer first and a knight second…”

Rather than fruitlessly summoning his halberd, Basil chose to use what little of his strength remained to utter two words. Two words that could change everything.

“Death’s Banner…”

[All for One] spread [Death’s Banner] to your allies! Their attacks will gain a [Deadslayer] effect (x3 damage against [Undead])!

Even at the world’s end, even faced with death, he trusted his team to prevail.

“They are my strength…” Basil rasped with pride. “And I am their own… together… we’ll kick your demon ass!”

[Permanent Buff] renewed [Duty Beyond Death] for five minutes!

Warning: You have run out of SP!

In five minutes, Basil would perish and his invincibility effect would fail. Either his allies killed the Maleking, or they would perish here.

This is all on you now, Basil thought, his eyes gazing at his allies, his crew, his friends. I’m with you… watching…

Bugsy and Plato nodded at him without a word. The battle-hardened crew did not need words to communicate. They could reach Basil’s thought written on his face.

“Strength of will is still strength,” the Maleking replied calmly. If anything, his voice brimmed with a warrior’s respect. “Your convictions matter not to me. If they give you the power to overcome me, then they are righteous. This bout’s winner will tell right from wrong.”

The sound of thundering trumpets echoed across the landscape.

Maleking Malacoda’s [Apocalypse Trumpets] buffed all his stats and [Hastened] him.

The Maleking was many things, but a coward wasn’t one of them. He did not run, nor did he falter before his enemies’ numbers.

Both Plato and Bugsy tensed up in response. All warriors present were battered and bloodied. Plato seemed hardly capable of standing up, having just returned from the dead; Bugsy no longer had enough power to breath light or fire; even the Maleking was covered in wounds, the flames within him flickering. His undead state was only held together by the strength of his will, and the embers of his waning power.

Everyone was on their last leg.

Three minutes… Basil counted. Three minutes left until my effect wears off… then I’ll die and the others will collapse from fatigue. We will all perish.

“But it is the nature of hope to be crushed when found wanting,” the Maleking said, his sword raised for the final clash. “Let’s see if your allies can keep their head high without yielding to my might!”

The Maleking lunged at the Bohens with all his remaining strength. His armor creaked with each step, his bloody flames turning into harmless smoke as they escaped his battered armor.

Bugsy and Plato charged at him from two different sides. They acted without warning, their movements perfectly coordinated. None of them had enough strength left for special techniques or tricks. They simply charged ahead, carried only by their resolve.

Bugsy leaped first, his immense bulk many times greater than the Maleking. He roared in fury and put all his weight into this final attack. The great demon swatted him aside with a backhand nonetheless. His blow sent the Apolloworm rolling across the landscape with a loud, rocky noise.

Plato exploited the opportunity to flank the Maleking, claws and fangs out for the kill. There was no grace in his movement, only a bestial surge of speed.

The hastened Maleking proved quicker; A chain of fire surged from the demon’s hand and coiled around his foe’s neck. The Maleking flung Plato around, using the feline as if he were a flail and pounding him onto the dust. The more he failed to break past the invincibility effect, the more the demon lord snarled in frustration. Basil winced in fear for his friend’s safety.

Two minutes. Basil cursed his weakness. Damn it, damn it, damn it!

When all hope seemed lost, a winged fairy’s shadow loomed from above.

“Ancient Meteor!” Vasi shouted, her words carried by the wind.

Taken aback, the Maleking released his hold on Plato and leaped to the side, hoping to avoid the inevitable projectile. He simply could not afford to take this attack, even with his automatic counterattack. The Maleking waited, his hands clenching his sword.

But no stone fell upon the earth.

The Maleking choked in surprise. “A desperate bluff?”

“I am a demon too,” Vasi replied with a sly smile. She landed next to her boyfriend and immediately tended to him. “Half of one at least.”

Clever girl. Basil smiled, the wind blowing dust onto his teeth. You’re out of SP, aren’t you?

The Maleking’s surprise cost him dearly.

Plato, exploiting his foe’s distraction, sank his fangs into the demon’s waist. His sword-teeth pierced through the Maleking’s steel armor and pinned him in one place. The Maleking hit him in the face with his blade again and again, but the feline would not let him go.

One minute, Basil thought, his breath so heavy that it hurt his throat. This is it!

“Bugsy!” Plato mumbled through his fangs. “Do it now!”

Bugsy rose back to his feet under the shadow of Dis. Not even the Neurotower’s looming darkness could obscure the light of his sun tail, nor the brightness of his wings. His mandibles snapped open like scissors waiting to cut through paper. His roar shook heaven and earth.

Unable to escape Plato’s jaws, the Maleking lowered his sword. He gazed at his inevitable death with grim resignation, and what little quiet dignity he could muster.

“It is finished,” he said.

Bugsy’s mandibles snapped on the Maleking’s neck, and the great war for Overgod came to an end.