Chapter 1041: Wiping Out Whole Planets (Patreon)

In a great hall of wood and stone, a group of gold-rank mercenaries were discussing a major job. Gold-rankers were relegated to the fringes of the cosmic community, but to the more isolated worlds, they were a force to be reckoned with. One such world had put out a call and they were discussing the merits of answering.

“I say we do it,” one man called out. “The offer is good.”

“The pay is good, Trellin,” a woman countered. “That doesn’t mean the offer is. Do we want to get caught up in some isolationist backworld conflict? Everyone here is looking for that key to diamond-rank. To be part of the cosmic community. We want to go to the universe city, not a pointless dimension on the fringe of cosmic nowhere.”

“Too good for honest work, Nexin? If wanting to get into Interstice was all it took, we’d all be in there right now. The job is for a goddess. One who is invading another world, somehow. You think that isn’t higher on the cosmic stage than we are right now? Any time the rules get strange, things get busy. That means opportunity for those with the boldness to seize it. Look at all these people trying to find the new great astral being, or the mess after the cosmic throne was repaired.”

“Look at the body counts, Trellin. We want something that will draw enough attention to get better jobs. Patronage. Not enough attention that we die in a diamond-rank crossfire.”

“What is it, then Nexin? Is this job too important or too unimportant? You’ve argued both, and it doesn’t work that way.”

***

In the woods nearby, Estella Warnock opened her eyes.

“They’re discussing whether to take the contract with Knowledge. The guy in favour seems to be swaying the crowd better. What I’m not hearing is any reluctance to participate in the invasion of an innocent world.”

“That’s all we need, then,” Sophie said.

“You should go tell the others.”

“I hate these high-end worlds. All the time and effort Farrah and Travis spent on just getting a practical communication network going. Now we’re out in the mighty cosmos and we can’t use the networks here because there are too many ways to intercept them. Magitech everywhere and we’re back to ‘Sophie, you’re fast. Please deliver this very important lunch order.’ I’m here to fight, not play message boy.”

“Better off being a good messenger than caught in a bad ambush because the enemies were listening in.”

“How about I pitch you another idea.”

“No,” Estella said, flatly.

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“You want me to go back while you attack the thirty or forty gold-rank mercenaries in that hall.”

Sophie opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again.

“Okay, hear me out.”

“No.”

“I was going to say something entirely different, but now that you’ve suggested I attack them all, I think there might be some merit in your plan.”

“It’s not my… don’t do it.”

Sophie looked at the communication crystal she had taken from her pocket.

“Don’t…”

Sophie pressed her thumb hard on the crystal

“Estella said I should attack all the mercenaries so I’m going to do it,” she said, rushing the words out before vanishing in a blur.

Left alone, Estella’s own communication stone came to life.

“What are you doing Sophie?” Humphrey’s voice came through the stone. “We’re meant to keep off the—”

“She’s gone,” Estella said, cutting him off. “She’ll be inside by now.”

***

The mercenaries in the hall were just getting word of intercepted communications when Sophie flashed through a window near the high vaulted ceiling. She was attacking the third person before the first realised she was there, moving through the mercenaries like a violent breeze. They reacted quickly, being experienced fighters, and had fought speed specialists before, but no one quite like Sophie.

The mercenaries were the dregs of the cosmic community. Drop-outs from worlds that sent diamond-rankers out into the cosmos, these people had fallen short yet been unable to accept it. By comparison, Sophie had excelled in training from one of the most elite programs in a major cosmic empire, turning down more than one offer of recruitment.

Sophie had taken to the elite program like Stash to biscuits, devouring every crumb of combat knowledge she could scrounge. After six years of the best training the cosmos had to offer, Sophie had gone through a transfiguration. Beyond simply honing her techniques, she learned to think and fight more tactically. Instead of just anticipating, she baited and manipulated opponents into making the moves that she wanted. The mercenaries got a taste of this as she reacted to their moves seemingly before they made them, as if she were so fast she could see through time.

To the mercenaries, she was little more than a blur, but they quickly realised that for all her elusiveness, her attack power was lacking. They might not have Sophie’s training or talent, but they had the experience of practical fighters, taking formations to box her in and pin her down. It wasn’t easy, with Sophie’s speed and grace making them look like brutish bronze-rankers. They did not panic or try and change plans. They trusted their teamwork and experience, knowing that steady hands were better than flailing reactions.

They were hippos snapping at a gazelle, their power meaningless as Sophie galloped around them. That said, everyone in the room knew it would only take one good bite. She ran on air like it was solid ground, never where they expected and always where she wanted.

At one point their patience seemed to pay off, a barrage of attacks landing right in a space Sophie was moving through. Her body turned to mist and the attacks passed through harmlessly. A couple of affliction specialists unleashed clouds of noxious toxins, to the consternation of the allies caught up in it. She moved through the miasma like a goddess of the wind, the clouds dancing around her as they were cleansed into fresh air.

The shift in conditions that defined the fight was so gradual that the mercenaries didn’t see it coming. Every attack Sophie blocked made her stronger. Every moment she moved made her faster and more elusive. Every lucky glancing blows she suffered made her grow tougher and heal faster. She punched spells out of the air, deflecting them at enemies and getting stronger from their power. Wind blades crashed into the mercenaries and chained between them, inflicting little harm but knocking them out of the formations they were using to corner her. Increasingly obsessed with catching their attacker, they failed to notice her attacks growing stronger, moment to moment. Her fists hitting harder, her wind blades cutting deeper.

The smarter ones caught on first, but it was already too late. By the time the first mercenary ran for the door, Sophie’s ordinary punches hit like special attacks, blazing through defences and battering even gold-rank flesh. Her wind blades started cutting through armour, even severing limbs. The first man to reach the door was also the first to get a good look at Sophie as she appeared in front of him.

Despite all that was happening, he froze for a brief moment, struck by the astonishing beauty of the warrior woman before him, holding a hand out, palm first. He paid for his moment hesitation by eating a blast of wind that sent him and everyone behind hurtling across the hall, skittling into the crowd. Then she was a blur once more, not letting anyone evade or escape the brutality that came with her still-escalating power. Even those who tried to teleport found themselves interrupted by a foot crashing into the side of their heads.

The mercenaries had finally realised that they were the prey, the herd animals being stalked by a terrifying predator. They gave up even trying to fight back, bolting for every exit, but Sophie seemed to be everywhere. Attempts at escape turned to healing as they drank potions or cast spells while holding their own severed limbs in place.

Finally, the room became still. Mercenaries laid about, groaning as they continued trying to heal themselves. There were no fatalities, as even a deeply empowered Sophie would take time and deliberation to finish a gold-ranker off. She stretched her arms out as the steel main doors of the hall burst in, coming off their hinges and landing heavily on the floor, dented and warped.

“Sophie!” Humphrey yelled, charging inside only to stop and look around. His shoulders slumped as his dragon sword and rainbow scale armour vanished.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“We decided to negotiate with them, remember?”

“And now we can negotiate from a position of strength,” she said as Humphrey shook his head wearily.

“Should I be healing these people?” Neil asked.

“They’re gold-rankers,” Belinda said. “They’re fine.”

Neil leaned down to pick up a severed hand to hold in front of her.

“Relatively fine,” she amended. “What kind of mercenary hasn’t lost a limb or two by gold-rank? It’ll grow back.”

***

The dimension ship carrying Team Biscuit transitioned into astral space, heading back towards imperial territory. Humphrey was attempting to debrief them in the ship’s conference room, to mixed results. Neil and Estella were playing cards while Clive and Belinda were drawing magical diagrams directly on the table with chalk, arguing over the more optimal layout. Taika and Stash were kneading bread dough on a bench that definitely hadn’t been there when they came in, while Rufus was the sole person being professionally attentive to Humphrey. Sophie was sitting next to Humphrey, but her attention was on the armour she was spot-washing blood from with crystal wash.

“Belinda, you’re sure the mercenary company you and Estella checked out won’t be a problem?” Humphrey asked.

“Yep,” she said, not looking up from what she was doing. “Definitely not.”

“Maybe one problem,” Estella said. She lay down her cards and Neil swore.

“What kind of problem?” Humphrey asked.

“It won’t be a problem,” Belinda insisted.

“Lindy, I think you’ll have to give him more than that,” Sophie said.

Belinda gave a long-suffering groan and tossed down her chalk.

“Fine,” she said. “Remember how we robbed that mercenary company who had already accepted a contract from Knowledge?”

“The one whose members accused each other of the theft and turned on each other, leading to the whole company falling apart?” Humphrey asked.

“That’s the one.”

“That was good, clever work,” Humphrey told her.

“Thanks, although it was mostly Stella, if I’m being honest. My part was taking the wealth from that company and using it to buy another one outright. So, we own it now. No problems.”

“Other than the need to manage an entire mercenary company,” Estella pointed out.

“You bought a mercenary company?” Taika asked. “That’s pretty sweet, bro.”

Belinda shapeshifted into a handsome, rakish and slightly older man.

“Strictly speaking, Micklin Finneas, gentleman adventurer, bought it.”

“Why?” Humphrey asked.

“That whole planet is a stomping ground for gold-rankers trying to crack diamond so they can play under the big tent,” Belinda pointed out. “It’s not the only one, either, and who knows where Knowledge’s agents will go looking to hire people. These planets are a cosmic wash-out club for the people who weren’t good enough to be something important out here with the big boys, but they aren’t ready to admit it to themselves. This very ship used to belong to exactly that kind of group. But while they’re a bunch of nobodies out here, by Pallimustus and, gods help us, Earth standards, these people are monsters and kings. It won’t take much of a push for them to give up on being a little fish in the cosmic lake and look into ruling a local pond.”

“Your point?” Humphrey asked.

“It’s not practical for just us to drop in and smack around every group that either did or is considering Knowledge’s offer. We can’t take out every mercenary out there, but all these bottom-feeder groups form a large network. One that we can use, if we manage it right.”

Humphrey leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful.

“I see the training with Imperial Intelligence has not been a waste, but how thorough was it? Are you able to cultivate the assets necessary to run this thing without you having to micromanage the whole operation?”

Belinda glanced over at her wife.

“We are, but it wouldn’t hurt to have Lord Cazus looking over our shoulders a little.”

“Alright, then,” Humphrey said. “I hope it’s effective. It’s not like we can start going after mercenary planets and wiping them out wholesale. We can’t go just wiping out whole planets like a maniac.”

***

“We’re making real progress on wiping out the whole planet,” Jason said happily as he looked at the map projection.

“You mean, wiping out the corruption on the whole planet,” Lalia said.

“Uh, yep, sure,” Jason said. “I’m sure you called me back here for more reason than to celebrate though.”

“Definitely not to celebrate,” Baloc said.

“We’ve been tracking the corruption and how it reacts to our actions for a few years now,” Lalia explained. “What we’ve seen, over time, correlates with our original hypothesis: as the corruption concentrates, it gets smarter. The corruption has started actively getting out of your path, and as it consolidates, we see further increasingly strategic behaviour. We believe it is approaching, or has already reached, sapience.”

“Well, that’s very not good,” Jason said. “I’ve dealt with a few undead armies in my time, but this is the big one. Planetary scale, self-perpetuating. Adding smart to the list is not something I like. Question is, what do we do? Hit the big nodes and try to scatter it?”

“Potentially,” Baloc said, “although I would prefer an alternative. We’ve already seen what happens if we don’t thoroughly purge corruption. The remnants rebuild, and are much harder to track down before they become threats all over again.”

“Let me show you something,” Lalia said and made a swiping gesture. The map projection was replaced with an image of something roughly humanoid, extremely high up.

“That is a big boy,” Jason said. “Those are buildings around it?”

“They are,” Lalia confirmed.

“It makes me think of those giant weapons I’ve seen scattered around the world. The ones the size of mountains.”

“These entities still aren’t close to large enough to wield those,” Aeora said. “This satellite image was taken at what was one of the strongest concentrations of corruption. There is significantly fewer corrupted souls in evidence since the appearance of this entity, which leads us to believe that it’s some manner of amalgam. Souls blended together to create whatever this thing is. Being souls ourselves, you can understand that the idea of being blended together does not sit well with us.”

“Nor should it,” Jason said, “but I can give you at least some reassurance. It can’t be a true amalgamation because you can’t blend souls together, even these corrupted ones. The corruption here covers the soul without penetrating the core of it, much like lesser vampirism. It’s why the ghost fire is able to purge it so easily. Whatever is happening to the people being put together in this thing, it won’t be anything that can’t be undone.”

“You’re certain of that?” Aeora asked.

“Certain as I can be. I know a guy who has been studying versions of corruption like this for decades. The results of his work was what allowed me to return Melissa to humanity from being a lesser vamp. That being said, those people are going to be traumatised. I know you’ve said you don’t remember anything from while you’re corrupted but what they’re going through must leave a mark. I’m saying that as someone whose soul was marked up by a lot less, and I don’t really remember that experience either. But those things stay with you.”

“Everyone in this room understands that,” Aeora said.

“Even with what it will cost them,” Lalia said, “it is good to hear that this things can potentially be undone. I propose that we target these amalgamations. We free those souls and, as a bonus, purging that much concentrated corruption at once will be a significant blow.”

“You’re right,” Aeora said, “but we must consider why it has done this. If this is some manner of instinctual response to gather together in the face of a threat, then the corruption is only hastening it’s own end. But if the corruption is truly becoming intelligent, then it has motive for its actions beyond the mindless drive of a disease spreading itself. What does it hope to accomplish by consolidating and creating these soul amalgamations?”

“Consider the conditions it faces,” Baloc reasoned. “What is the threat to it? Asano and his ghost fire. It is both our only weapon and the thing it has found no answer to. Do these representatives represent that answer?”

Jason cast his gaze back to the humanoid figure in the image.

“You’re suggesting that it believes that a sufficient concentration of corruption will allow it to resist the ghost fire?”

“Perhaps,” Baloc said. “Do you believe it’s a possibility?”

“No idea,” Jason said, “but I think we’d better find out.”

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