Alexander watched Blackviper set up her nest from above, lurking on the rooftop. In her hands was her signature weapon, a personalized rifle by the name of [Nightwatch]. It was not your standard magick sniper rifle wielded by rangers like her. It had the appearance of black death, the size capable of downing a dragon with a single shot, the technology so advanced that only Blackviper could properly use it.

She propped [Nightwatch] on the ledge and took aim. And suddenly, the rifle’s shape transformed: the body getting thicker, the barrel longer. From her [Inventory], Blackviper inserted odd blocks that attached to the growing [Nightwatch], which folded out into additional attachments. At the end, the magical rifle turned into another weapon altogether, like an artillery cannon.

“I have eyes on the target’s vitals,” she said over the System, calm and composed, with no inflection in her voice. How true professionals performed.

At the end of the street, Jin Tiehan was seen maneuvering around the armored cyclops, where compared to the monster he was the size of an annoying fly. This was a monstrosity that no one could get close without fear of immediate and painful death; it was taller than the buildings, standing so wide that its thighs were rubbing against the walls, and wearing improperly-fitted metal armor where a single step caused hideous scratching and hissing throughout the block.

It spoke in a language that no one understood but everyone knew it was mightily pissed off judging from how it batted its fists back and forth, knocking off bricks and whole chunks of walls, kicking cars like they were pebbles, driving the ground forces back behind the present shielders, who raised barriers protecting from everybody from the debris.

Jin Tiehan flew backwards using whatever flying technique he had, found safety on a rooftop about three buildings down from the cyclop’s position. Its maw opened and it let out a horrible roar, and a putrid breath sank low, hitting harder than any physical attack would.

“Fire,” commanded Jin Tiehan, giving Blackviper the go-ahead.

“Roger.”

The [Nightwatch]’s barrel had a powerful, bulging purple glow. Then, a deafening rumble snapped throughout the street. A purplish-black beam shot from [Nightwatch] and straight into the cyclop’s chest before it realized what happened. It pierced through all layers of its armor and went through.

A gaping hole was left where its heart should’ve been.

Before it could drop, Jin Tiehan leapt.

[Skill Activation: Records of the Righteous Cultivator - Nine Skyward Azure Blades]

Behind Jin Tiehan was massive azure-colored swords with Chinese-styled engravings carved into the blades, nine in number. They phased through the buildings and left no damage, and cut into the cyclops. The attacks were so fast and numerous that Alexander couldn’t track them, but by the time the technique ended, the cyclops was diced into small, manageable pieces while the rest turned into fine mist.

The pieces that fell splattered into small clumps of flesh and blood, leaving no damage on the roads or buildings, and the subjugation ended by a ceremony of a red rain shower.

The shielders dropped their barriers and everybody, rifles and swords, gawked at what had happened. So this was the power of the Vice Guild Master of Martial Guild, the Perfected Cultivator, the monster who consumed martial techniques. And this was the technology of today, a weapon that could kill most things, wielded by the assassin Blackviper, an expert in the hunt.

Jin Tiehan dropped, meeting the rest of the forces while standing on top of a parked truck. With a snap of his fingers, his blood-soaked cultivator robes was washed clean in an eyeblink, and he had the most content smile and an underlying, monstrous joy.

Although he was staring at the entire group, it felt like he was looking at Alexander specifically, and Alexander didn’t want to admit that. It was a self-centered thing to say, but at the same time you never knew when it came to this man. How much he knew. How much he suspected that Alexander was more than he seemed.

Much, much more.

Of all the subjugations, this one burned in Alexander’s memory throughout the entire night. It’d been long. Hard. Hardest he’d ever been worked thus far in the tumultuous week. Since the first cluster of bombs back in Grendel Arsenal, the Baptists were led by Blackviper and the Righteous Jin Tiehan, and they did nothing but neutralizing portal after portal after portal after fucking portal.

The SMVs were a godsend. It allowed them to bypass the traffic on the streets and get to their destination within minutes when it’d take an hour normally. Jin Tiehan manned communications between stationed Slayers and soldiers throughout the borough, picking the locations where they were most needed.

Inherently, the large swaths of portals meant a diverse range of enemies from measly rat-goblins to cyclopes like the one before. But the battles were swiftly resolved thanks to the combined power between Gul, Blackviper, and Jin Tiehan, who took on the silent oath to dispatch any high-ranking monsters that might pose a threat to normal forces.

So for a good portion of the battles, the Alumnus and Alba handled the grunts, the lower-ranked monsters. At first their synchrony was poor—as expected as they hadn’t fought together before today and no one was counting Scorcher. But then they gotten better, quickly at that, learning about each other’s fighting styles and skills and preferences, smoothing out their communication, taking on different roles.

Alexander was proud of how far his team had come since the first day of the disaster. A hodgepodge of measly Pseudos and gradually they were acting as a single mind, like an actual Slayer Team. All that was missing was Damien, but Damien was a special case—let’s hope his mission with Royals went well.

Not everything went smoothly, however. Everyone had a new scar to speak about, taken care of by [Healing Potions] or any healers on-site who gave them priority. Each wound gave Alexander a new lesson. Each mistake corrected him. Each battle taught him something new. Tonight progressively carved the imperfections out of his leadership, little-by-little. That went for everybody, really.

Inside the SMVs, moving to the next location, they spoke about tactics and what changes to implement, what new strategies to test out and what to abandon altogether, contingencies to consider, making adjustments to their equipment and replenishing lost mana. Here, this was the only time for them to rest, eat whatever they had and drink whatever potions they needed, to sleep even. Rarely they could find a healer who had stamina-replenishing magic.

It was a strange experience looking back on those conversations, if you could call them that. Their talks contained none of the banter that they enjoyed before, none of the petty jokes and childish teasing. Just plain tactics, as though everybody had been turned into self-learning AIs. Occasionally they spoke about latest developments in the bombing, new findings brought by Alma, but that was all.

Improvements were had. Alexander’s [Incomplete Mana Impact Step] was developed into [Mana Impact Step] some time after midnight. During an SMV ride, Leona said that her [Incomplete Hwaseong Fifth Arte - Crimson Fog of War] was complete and was added to her toolbox skill, [Fable of the Celestial War Goddess]; as a result, she replaced it with another incomplete technique, [Fourth Technique - Sunset Wing], where she produced a blinding effect with her blade and followed with an unpredictable strike.

Althea and Vernon didn’t receive any notable developments with their skills but their overall abilities improved, their thinking sharper.

The night went on. Dawns eventually found a foothold. Other Slayers had the right idea to use SMVs of their own, while helicopters transported soldiers and additional personnel to key locations—such as redirection facilities and key infrastructure.

Soon the terrified crowds blocking the streets eventually dispersed as the portals were removed. Not completely as tens of thousands still lined the streets and filled the blocks, but enough where the vehicles and the necessary personnel were moving.

But fuck, it’d been rough. Alexander kept an eye on the borough—this place had been hit the hardest out of the city. The ruins of Operation Scorcher was a constant memory. Everything laid flat there, with the only notable structures were the hollowed-out shells of buildings, picked apart by scavengers chased away by patrolmen. Or the bodies of the Tormented Flesh, now gone, and he had conflicting accounts of where they went: on barges, underground in the tunnels, or burned. Or all of the above, really.

And now the bombing. Alexander spotted numerous incident sites, some after the fact and some during. You could tell by the gunfire and magic; there, roofs had caved in and civvies ran and screamed like ants scurrying away from a fire. Tents flapping in the wind, food thrown onto the ground. Clothes everywhere. Things. And bodies.

Lots of bodies. Alleyways and roads were stuffed with them, bruised blue and purple, skin all pale and sickly and ghastly, stomped on and ran over, crushed to death and suffocated. Little had been killed by the monsters, actually. A majority fell to the panic.

Each location they visited had the same story: something or someone bombed the place, opened a portal, and monsters came out surprising everyone. Sometimes multiple at once. The initial chaos was what killed people.

But the consensus was this: the real pain wouldn’t be felt until a couple days from now, after damages were assessed and resources had to be spent.

It was early morning of day eight of the Ordo Disaster, just after five. The SMVs were parked on a random rooftop where the entire team could finally have a long rest, only because there were no more portals. At least, artificially-created portals.

They had fought over ten hours, and they must’ve visited at least a couple hundred sites.

“The numbers aren’t looking good,” reported Seraph, speaking with Jin Tiehan, Gul, and Alexander. “When I last checked confirmed fatalities, it was rising above twenty thousand. We’ll know the true amount by noon.”

“Jesus…” muttered Alexander, who found it difficult to truly comprehend that number.

She nodded. “I know. From Alma’s report and the reports from my artisans, over five thousand bombs had detonated across Dawns. They targeted just about every vital location: military bases, installments, guild headquarters and workshops, supply stations, refugee centers, infrastructure. Including the remaining Pillar Dawns, though the damage was minimal. But most worrying, every redirection facility in the borough was hit. Of them, six had been damaged beyond a speedy repair.

“The intensity matched the initial invasion, and even with outside reinforcements, Dawns suffered severe damage in critical infrastructure, supplies and equipment, essential commanders, public trust. We will be forced to cut our losses and repair Dawns as much as we can, but…”

She gulped, momentarily revealing the fear behind her eyes. “At this rate, we won’t last fourteen days.”

Jin Tiehan asked, untroubled by this information, “And what of the other boroughs, the other guilds?”

“Untouched but afraid. Very afraid. What happened here will cause a ripple effect throughout the city. How exactly, we aren’t sure yet. As for the guilds, Levin’s reaction was intense cursing and swearing. I believe that speaks for itself.”

The three Slayers exchanged equally amused looks.

Gul spoke, “Is Monarch still operating in Darkrealm’s Hold?”

Seraph nodded. “Yes, but I’m certain she’s made aware of the bombing at some point during the operation. Rector told me that he’ll do as much as he can to supplement our losses but he can’t make any promises. For your father, Jin Tiehan, he shares the same concerns as I do. And Glory, well, you all know the situation. As we speak, Mystic and Silverhonor are most likely arguing about their next course of action.”

“Just lock Mystic up for insubordination,” suggested Alexander brashly.

“General Subramanian had the same thought but it’s not that simple. As antagonistic as Mystic is, he is a senior Head Officer with years of experience with skills to match. Can you imagine going without Blackviper, Jin Tiehan?”

He shook his head. “It would be like going without my right arm.”

“Exactly. And there are some in Glory who would prefer Mystic’s leadership over Silverhonor. Practically-speaking, especially now, we can’t afford losing Mystic and his followers. I will do my best to mediate but I cannot guarantee a good outcome for us.”

“Fuck me…” Alexander muttered to himself. “Is our objective the same as before then? Figure out which Comet’s behind this, figure out how, and find them?”

“Correct, but…” Seraph hesitated. “...I will say it again: we’ve been knocked closer to our deadline. We need to find the Sungrazers.”

Jin Tiehan hummed and nodded, undisturbed. His behavior was reminiscent of Damien. “We will. By noon, I will personally deliver our results to you.”

“Thank you. That is everything I have to say.” Seraph lowered her head in respect. “Godspeed, everyone.”

Alexander and Gul bowed their head, then the call ended. Soon after, another call was connected, this time with Alma. He’d seen better days. His wrinkles were more pronounced, eyes bloodshot red, and he seemed to be dangling between a caffeine overdose and overexhaustion.

“Alma,” Jin Tiehan began, crossing his arms authoritatively, “give me a status report. We need actionable intelligence, please.”

Alma nodded, fumbling with papers and scrolls before pressing a few buttons on his blue System screens. There, the call was accompanied by notes that had been transcribed into the Slayer System.

First was a report by Shinzo, who had analyzed the condition of portal-plagued individuals. She stated first that she had zero samples due to the obvious fact: all had been destroyed. Through security footage, she described the appearance of these “bombers” and various theories she had. So far, all of the bombers had black, bulging veins throughout their body. Object-infused, however, most likely had no outstanding differences—otherwise, as Shinzo suggested, they wouldn’t be used in daily life to begin with.

None of the theories, as far as Alexander skimmed, could be acted upon.

The report was pushed aside by another, this time written by Alma himself. He explained, “I may have discovered the method of transportation. I have aggressively watched tens of security footage throughout the borough—”

“Please summarize,” Jin Tiehan told him firmly.

Alma nodded, his demeanor stiffening slightly. “Yes, I apologize. Look at the screens here.”

More screens popped up: a face of a Caucasian man in his forties with a pronounced nose. All that was said about him was his name: Wilson L.; Wilson was tucked into the top-left corner behind a larger screen with an array of security camera footage. To the right was a zoomed in map of the borough, and a single white dot was marked with a black W.

“Mister Wilson here is one of the bombers in Oblivion Square, and I managed to mostly track his journey from his untimely demise to the beginning, where I believe he may have unintentionally became an unwitting member of this scheme.”

Everyone listened closely.

Alma began to explain Wilson’s tracks in reverse chronological order, beginning from Oblivion Square—one of the largest refugee centers in Dawns—and worked backwards. Both the footage and the map moved in sync, going through location-by-location. Wilson exhibited odd behavior during his travel, most likely due to being a literal carrier for a portal.

And so, about twelve hours before the bombing, Alma stopped his search at an odd place: the outside of a market—SSS Goods.

“What’s significant about this place?” asked Gul. “I don’t recall anything important.”

“That is because you are a high-ranker with important duties,” Alma said. “We all have our duties, which means we do not typically speak with civilians. Other than Shinzo, who has been passively collecting intel from her patients. It was only when I shared my findings did she mention this: many had visited or heard of SSS Goods because they advertised free food and drinks.

“And since visiting SSS Goods, Wilson showed odd behavior. Before you ask, this alone does not concretely prove anything, so…”

Three additional pictures appeared beside Wilson, stacking below him. They were marked on the map, their trail outlined.

All four individuals had visited SSS Goods and taken supplies from there.

“I triple-checked.”

Everybody was silent, processing this information. Its implications.

“...Is this the only place of interest?” Jin Tiehan inquired after some time.

Alma shook his head and showed additional places on the map. “I have not investigated these locations to the extent as I had with SSS Goods. But as you can see…”

“All of them must be giving away free stuff…” Alexander concluded, biting his lip strongly. “The bombers, the civilians, ingested bombs without even knowing it. How is that possible without dying straight out?”

“We have to assume it’s the power of the Comets,” answered Alma. “And whatever monster is working with them. A lich, a shaman, whichever could blend themselves in with our society.”

“I see.” Jin Tiehan turned to the rest of the Baptists plus Blackviper. “We have our next mission then. We will investigate SSS Goods and repossess any and all supplies within the establishment, then return to Grendel Arsenal for your pleasure.”

“Yes sir.”

“We ought to detain any employees of the market as well,” Gul said.

He hummed. “I will call for transport if they are there and Blackviper will take care of the questioning. Let’s go; time is of the essence.”

***

The SMVs took them to SSS Goods which sat on West Divine Street. During the ride there, Alexander spotted some familiar landmarks and the ever-visible battlefield looming to the north, where he had personally faced two of the Comets himself. Now, today, he hoped to find the third as crazy as that sounded.

West Divine hadn’t been hit hard compared to other areas in the borough but it was thoroughly trashed from the bombing spree. Volunteer workers were cleaning the streets, lifting away heavy objects—and occasionally bodies—into trucks. Infrastructure had been hit, yes, but things weren’t so bad that society completely collapsed. That alone was a blessing.

As they glided closer to SSS Goods, however, something strange caught Alexander’s attention and subsequently the rest of the team’s as well.

“Hey.” Vernon was the first to point it out. “We got rifles. Are they the transport?”

“No. I haven’t called for one yet,” replied Jin Tiehan, opening up comms with the others. “Blackviper, be on high alert.”

“Yessir.”

“Hey.” Althea nudged Alexander and Leona, who were sitting together. “Were we ‘posed to see rifles?”

Alexander’s cracked lips pressed together and he shook his head. “No. Be careful just in case. We don’t know what we’re walking into here.”

The two SMVs landed half a block down from SSS Goods, immediately attracting the soldiers present. About twenty of them, probably more within the store itself. They established a security perimeter around the area, propped up barriers with flashing light and humvees with their headlights turned on, making sure their presence was more than known.

Beyond there, though, Alexander spotted topped-over tables, broken baskets and crates, food and drinks scattered and smashed up. And kneeling at the front of the store, on the sidewalk, were six individuals wearing civilian clothing, their wrists bounded in zip-ties. The light illuminated their haunted expressions seeing the SMVs come down.

Coming down for them.

“Someone already got to ‘em?” Victor asked as everyone hopped out of the SMVs, but no one answered, focused on the sight ahead of them.

Jin Tiehan pursed his lips together, taking a second or two to think. “This has gotten more complicated than I initially thought. We should have the authority but military matters are often a headache. There shouldn’t be any trouble but in these times, everything’s uncertain. Stay behind me and be aware of your surroundings.”

Everyone nodded, obeying.

With Blackviper at his side, he led the Baptists. He walked with an overpowering authority. Nearby civilians scattered seeing him with his powerful entourage, wanting nowhere near this suddenly tense environment like it was toxic. At the perimeter, a few soldiers stiffened and recognized the Martial Vice Guild Master, clutching their rifles close to their chest, panickingly murmuring to each other like buzzing bees.

And their conversation was muffled when Jin Tiehan approached them, hands politely behind his back. “Good morning. Who is in charge here?”

The soldiers took turns looking at each other, playing a game of “Who’s gonna get him?” before one of them resigned and scurried off after swearing under his breath. Following that was the longest minute in these men’s life, having to awkwardly stand face-to-face with the feared Righteous Jin Tiehan and the famous Dawn Baptists.

From between the barriers, a Chinese soldier came out and stood rigidly like a steel pole. “S-Staff Sergeant Huang. What—erm—what brings you here, Martial Vice Guild Master?”

Jin Tiehan stared at the Staff Sergeant with a gaze that could cut rock. “Sergeant Huang, we have pertinent evidence to our investigation within these premises. I have already arranged transport to Grendel Arsenal, so I would like to request an immediate entry.”

Staff Sergeant Huang didn’t speak for a few seconds, but when he opened his mouth, someone else emerged.

A scruffy, middle-aged American man who’d seen the worst of it. He wore equipment typical of someone in the Ordoian Army yet also possessed magical equipment, such as a glowing green badge dangling at his belt.

Leona’s eyes widened.

Alexander’s mouth dropped a little. “Holy shit, Kirk?”

“Do you know him?” Jin Tiehan asked.

“Y-Yeah. Roswell Kirk, he was with us back in System Articles and Black Paladin when the disaster first broke. We separated when it was time to head to OU and my life got busier since,” explained Alexander.

Kirk had been the Head Security Manager at his old internship (now beyond destroyed); it seemed he used his experience as an Otherguard plus his status as a Pseudo-Slayer to lend a hand during the crisis underneath Worldly Defenses Order 22, one of the Global Guard’s protocols that permitted Pseudo-Slayers to participate in combat if shit hit the fan.

Alexander wanted to keep in touch but never had the chance to.

“What are you doing here?” asked Leona.

He looked at Staff Sergeant Huang, who didn’t want to speak with Jin Tiehan’s presence looming over him. Kirk bit his lip and rubbed his irritation off. “Rogue-hunting. We’re hunting down rogues.”

“Duskheads,” Blackviper stated. “You’re Duskheads.”

The single word dropped like an anvil.

Kirk nodded, knowing what that meant. “Yeah.”

Task Force Duskhead was established in Dawns three days into the Ordo Disaster, dedicated to taking care of domestic threats—rogues—and had its forces expanded to encompass the entire city in the days after. Alba had accompanied elements of the Task Force to assist them in apprehending rogues, such as Jonathan Nam before they were assigned to Grendel Arsenal.

But that wasn’t their original purpose. As a team within the Dawn Baptists, they were tasked with investigating the Kreutz Sungrazers. Their investigation led them here, to determine which of the Sungrazers had perpetrated the bombings and through whose help.

So there could be only one undeniable conclusion drawn from this unfortunate encounter.

A group of rogues were helping the Comets.

Apocalyptics.

~

[SKILL]

MANA IMPACT

A technique taught to you by the Perfected Cultivator, the Righteous Jin Tiehan. By condensing mana into your body and releasing the load upon impact, you produce an explosive effect.

These are the minimum values to produce a notable effect.

15% Mana Density: +1 Stat

50% Mana Density: +2 Stat

100% Mana Density: +3 Stat

MANA IMPACT STRIKE Concentrate mana into your fists to enhance the Power of your attacks. MANA IMPACT STEP

Condense mana into your legs to provide a temporary increase in Agility, or additional attacking Power.

~

[SKILL]

FABLE OF THE CELESTIAL WAR EMPRESS

Write your story here, fated Celestial War Empress.

HWASEONG ARTES DERIVATIVES

1

RED BANNER

Declare your intentions with a mighty crash, and imitate the sound of hammers upon war-drums

RED BANNER, SWORDLESS

A derivative of Red Banner, its swordless version.

2

CARMINE POINT BREAK

Break the front-lines, and once your enemy has routed, only then you may blare the horns.

NONE AVAILABLE 5

CRIMSON FOG OF WAR

In the fog of war, there is no vision. In the chaos you have created, capitalize and step forth.

NONE AVAILABLE

~

[SKILL]

Incomplete Hwaseong Fourth Arte - Sunset Wing

The sun blinds and sets upon your foe with a strike unseen.

Due to your inexperience with this skill, there is a chance of catastrophic failure.