Tales of the Old World Demon Lord

Chapter 47 - Fate between Gods

[Eternum Calendar 1972]

Looking around, it was the same regardless of the direction she decided to take.

Nemesis couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh, it was fine that she successfully managed to find her way out of the underground base, but now she no longer had a solid destination. The world had changed so much that not a sign of any concrete jungle could be detect, only actual jungles. With no point of reference all she could do was run around in circles looking for something to catch her interests. However even aimless wandering had its limits, a horribly chilling thought crept into her head as she suddenly stopped walking, 'don't tell me this world is devoid of sentient life?'

She hastily shifted her gaze around, certainly aside from that 'Horned, armor bear' there was nothing else that could even come close to being considered 'sentient'. She shook her head, 'no but there should at least be some immortals from the old world that's still around... right?' she tried to convince herself.

Resuming her pace she tried to shake that kind of thought out of her head. Such a frightening prospect was not something she wanted to deal with; it would have been better if she were surrounded by enemies than to live in a world with no intelligent life. For the time being her best option was to wander around until she got a hold of her current geographic bearings, but in the meanwhile she still needed something to occupy her mind.

Since she had the freedom of being out in the open she decided to test the functionality of her [Environmental Battle Suit]. Of the three functions she couldn't quite test out the 'stealth mode' feature since there wasn't anyone else that she could use it on, thus she decided to postpone it for later.

The second function was the inbuilt [Gigandoll Power Frame MK6(Experimental)] unfortunately it wasn't able to be completed before the collapse of the USSC. It wasn't as powerful as the later MK7 implant type nor could she utilize the 'interface' options that most later generations of psychics used. What was left was merely a strength enhancer but that in and of itself was already very valuable.

She took a deep breath and clenched her fists. After having mentally prepared she unleashed her attack towards a house sized boulder that had been conveniently placed in front of her. It didn't take much effort in fact even after preparing herself she still held back quite a bit of strength, but the boulder had completely disintegrated into microscopic fragments, not only that but the blast range also encompassed and destroyed the trees and bushes behind it.

"[Mmm, works perfectly.]"

Other than just raw physical strength, her jumping and sprinting capabilities had also been multiplied to a exceeding degree. At the very least there shouldn't be many direct threat to her life in the foreseeable future.

Next was the [Inventory] function however since she did not have the 'interface' feature she could not see what items had been stored in her inventory. She could still store and withdraw items but she needed to physically memorize both the item code and the item itself in order to access them. It was a hassle every time but after having been a soldier on the front lines for many years her equipment and their item codes had already been cemented into her long term memory.

She closed her eyes and thought to herself for a bit. Her temporary hesitation was not due to having forgotten what she wanted to summon but because the item had a bit of lingering sentiment to her. She bitterly laughed to herself under her breath as she slowly chanted.

"[Weapon Code 5887E6Q3... Matter Reconstruction.]"

Materializing in her hand was a long katana, almost too big for her now child-sized proportion. Lengthwise it exceeded her height, the handle was decorated in an exquisite and elegant blue design, the sword guard was minimal with simply an oval shape but even this part was extremely fitting to the overall aesthetics. Yet, if it was just a matter of having an excellent craftsmanship, then it would not have much merit or value to the USSC's most elite super soldier.

No, the true value of the sword was in its blade. Of course that would be a given for any sword, good or bad. A blade so reflective that it crossed the boundary between a normal metal and a mirror, in fact this was no ordinary metal. The long, slightly curved, single edged blade was made not out of anything that seemed even remotely feasible; a liquid metal known as 'mercury'. It had been strengthened and solidified using a secret technique known only to the USSC's top secret weapons research team. In other words, it was now a lost art with near 0% chance of replication.

Nemesis clutched tightly onto the sword and gazed deeply into it. Held now with both of her hands instead of the usual singlehanded swordplay she was used to. She scoffed at herself once more as she thought back to why Sovereign had given her this specific sword.

The sword itself had no name, if anything the designated weapon code 5887E6Q3 was its official name. Yet it did have a reputation and a nickname, a rather ominous one at that. 'Comrade Slayer'... Nemesis thought to herself, recalling the blade's purpose.

A blade created for the sole purpose of slaying opponents who shared similar properties with her- fellow psychics. Or to be more specific it was to hunt down traitors and deserters who could become a potential threat. She smiled bitterly once more as she saw her own reflection against the extremely reflective surface, though it had become a little distorted from the properties of mercury.

This sword was both proof that she was very trusted by Sovereign but at the same time an awful burden. Still, she carried it with pride knowing that eventually it would become a necessity; this burden was her responsibility and her's alone, as a member of the [Upper Echelon].

Yet everything was already in the past and now even the purpose of the blade had been lost. It was still usable but a blade that had lost its purpose was nothing more than a sentimental heirloom from a country that no longer existed. Recalling the sword back into her inventory Nemesis sighed as she continued to walk forward.

At the very least it still had one final job... 'Symphony...'

...

Smiling eagerly, bearing his sharp, jagged teeth a lone God stood towering. Ashen grey skin, unlike any complexion that could be considered 'healthy, or even 'unhealthy' it was an oddly brutish color, as though all tone had been drained. Yet through those menacing grays one could easily see a formidable muscular structure that even put gods to shame, retracted, he was the apex of what a 'God' should be.

'Dagda', the God of Warriors, he himself was the very model of a warrior. Standing before him was the apex of preys, an opponent that could not only fight him as equals, but in the past had even given him a taste of defeat. Since his epic defeat he had lived these past one hundred years solely for the purposes of defeating this insurmountable foe.

"Errick Rommel..."

Dagda called out as he licked his own lips. Every hair in his body tingled with heavy excitement, and with every heart beat it was a count down to what he had lived this entire past one hundred years for. He couldn't hold himself back and his chest felt as though it would burst open with sheer anticipation.

He took a step closer.

He was feeling the very edge of his limitations holding back, but he knew he had to wait. It was a matter of formalities against an opponent that he, as a God, had recognized as truly 'worthy'. He needed to give the enemy this great honor, to allow Errick Rommel to prepare himself so he could be defeated at his prime.

These past one hundred years was torture but the one thing that Dagda felt relieved about was that Errick Romeml was an immortal. He didn't have to worry about the possibility of him aging and losing his lustre. The opponent was a [Ghost Armor], an undead so to speak, or as he liked to put it a [Cyborg], so he could wait on Dadga for forever.

"I see, so it really was you... Dagda. I had hoped our inevitable meeting would have been delayed for a further two or three hundred years. I suppose destiny is not something that one can elude so easilt."

Errick Rommel shook his head. Dagda's eyes flashed open as he heard the sounds of that mysterious voice that resembled nothing alive. 'It's truly him!' Dagda already knew but he couldn't help but burst out with even more excitement as he confirmed this fact. It wasn't an illusion, 'this is real!'

"No, I have waited far too long for this moment! I won't let you deny the very purpose of these past one hundred years!"

Dagda took another step forward.

"Ah... is that so? I suppose I am also partly to blame for entertaining excited children. Very well Dagda, then I shall be your opponent."

...

As though submerged completely under water, a cold darkness encompassed around Nicholai- trapped within his own subonscious.

'Ah, I must've fallen unconscious,' he thought to himself, yet even though he was trapped within this desolate realm a horrific pressure unlike anything he had felt before infiltrated his mind. Like a silent dagger piercing his heart, he could do nothing but only to shudder in the helpless darkness at whatever was happening outside. He could feel every muscle in his body trying to retract from whatever was the origin of that terror.

"...lai..."

For a brief moment he thought he heard something. He shifted around the darkness but saw nothing, of course, this was inside his own mind so who else could come in here? He also wondered if he even wanted to leave his own subconscious knowing that something monstrous was waiting for him.

"...Nic...lai...!"

He heard someone's voice once more, he looked around but there was no one.

"... Nicholai...?!"

Looking up he could see a small slimmer of light shining down. 'This voice...' he had heard it many times in his life so he could not be mistaken about it. It was Prince Leon's voice, 'but that shouldn't be,' he had already told him to get out of the forest while he still could. There was no way he would forsake the life of a child just to rejoin him in a futile battle, so then was it really him?

"Oi, Nicholai! Open your eyes!"

With those words he felt a rush of adrenaline push him out of his submerged consciousness. He was dragged towards the silvery light and as he emerged the light of day penetrated his retinas.

"Ugh..."

He has flinched back in pain and returned his eyes to the darkness.

"Nicholai, you okay?"

"Milord? Why are you still here? I thought I told you to leave the forests already! Did you really choose to abandon a child for the sake of saving a comrade?!"

Nicholai lashed out, rather uncharacteristically. He was usually the calm and condescending type but right now all he could feel was bitterness and anger, 'is it because I lost?' Nicholai asked himself. After acting so arrogantly, to have lost in the most embarrassing way was a major disgrace to his name.

"What are you talking about? I've already returned the child back to the village and came back to save you!"

"You've come back to save me? I think you're making a grave mistake; the enemy was far more powerful than I thought. He could attack at any moment so please try to prioritize your escape."

After a brief moment of silence Leon let out a small chuckle.

"By 'enemy' do you mean that?"

'That?' Nicholai wondered, finally opening his eyes he followed the gaze of the prince to a horribly wounded body. Laying upon the floor in an ooze of vile yellow liquid, it was Nazarym's body though upon closer inspection he wasn't yet truly 'dead'. A soured expression as he gripped tightly onto the large gaping hole in his chest, he had been severely immobilized.

"What.. who did...?"

Nicholai couldn't even fathom what kind of destructive force went through his chest to cause such a large wound. Nazarym was nigh immortal but seeing him grasping for air in what appeared to be pain almost made him worthy of sympathy.

"Yeah... I couldn't believe it at first either but... tch, that monster is actually more monstrous than I had originally thought."

Though he used a reluctant tone, when Nicholai examined his face Leon had a shuddering smile plastered on his face. Nicholai understood, it was the kind of expression that one would usually give when a situation becomes too exciting for a person. So then, he wondered, just what exactly was happening for his usually straight laced, dutybound and calm childhood friend to make such an unbecoming face?

Following his gaze once more his sight fell onto to men. One large, darkened brute easily standing over three meters tall, the other did not even appear human yet carried an air of malignant elegance.

"That's...?"

Nicholai didn't know who to cheer for as they both seemed equally destructive and malicious from his view.

"It's that suit of armor wearing a nobleman's clothes, that's the baron of this town, Errick Rommel."

Nicholai shifted up his glasses.

"I see, and the other?"

A small pause. Prince Leon replied in an uneasy tone.

"... I'm not to sure but I heard him call himself 'Dagda'..."

An ice like chilling shock instantly ran down Nicholai's back, scraping against his very composure. 'Dagda...?' he repeated to himself. It wasn't a common name, in fact it was common knowledge that only one being carried that name.

"You mean...?"

Nicholai quickly looked over to Leon is surprise.

"Yeah, if that's true then without a doubt our opponent is a 'God', and not just any but the strongest one."