Sei2
Dragon Spire Ascension: The Emperor Who Summoned Legends
Chapter 5: Morning Revelations (Continued)
"We identified it approximately eighty years ago," Longxian confirmed. "My astronomers have been tracking its development. The pattern grows more complex with each major incursion."
"And you believe it's designed to..." Zenobia prompted.
"Create a permanent gateway," Longxian finished. "One that won't collapse like the smaller fractures. Large enough to bring through... something substantial."
"Something, or someone?" Artoria questioned shrewdly.
Longxian's eyes met hers with appreciation for her insight. "That remains unknown. But the pattern resembles ancient summoning arrays used by the First Dynasty to call forth divine beasts."
"Except on a planetary scale," Proto Merlin added, suddenly serious. "They're not just attacking your empire—they're preparing to transform the entire world into a doorway."
Below in the courtyard, the sparring sessions continued. Barghest had now joined, her massive form drawing gasps from the imperial guards as she demonstrated combat techniques that relied on overwhelming strength rather than finesse. Unlike Kenshin and Tomoe's measured exhibition, Barghest fought with barely restrained ferocity, forcing her opponents—three elite guards who had volunteered—to fight for their lives.
"Should we intervene?" Zenobia asked, watching one guard narrowly avoid Barghest's claws.
"No need," Longxian replied calmly. "The Fae Knight understands restraint, despite appearances. And my guards benefit from facing true danger in controlled circumstances."
As if proving his point, Barghest suddenly pulled back from a strike that would have eviscerated her opponent, instead tapping the guard's chest with just enough force to send him stumbling backward.
"Again!" she growled, her heterochromatic eyes gleaming with excitement. "You move better when you're truly afraid. Fear sharpens instinct."
The guard, to his credit, steadied himself and re-engaged despite his obvious terror.
"Your soldiers are disciplined," Scáthach acknowledged.
"They are the Divine Thunder Legion's elite," Longxian explained. "Specifically selected for adaptability and courage."
"Speaking of your legions," Artoria transitioned smoothly, "we were promised an opportunity to observe your defenses today. I'm particularly interested in your tactical response patterns to these invasions."
"Of course," Longxian nodded. "I've arranged tours according to your individual interests. Zenobia, I thought you might appreciate visiting our frontline command center at the Vermilion Plains, where yesterday's incursion was repelled."
Zenobia's eyes lit with genuine interest. "I would indeed."
"Scáthach, our dimensional research institute might align with your expertise. Artoria, our central war room and tactical planning division awaits your assessment." He turned to Proto Merlin. "And for you, Enchantress, our Dream Observatory studies the relationship between celestial phenomena and dreamscape fluctuations."
"You've done your homework, Emperor," Proto Merlin commented, impressed despite herself.
"Five thousand years teaches one to be thorough," he replied with the faintest smile. "The others have received similar invitations aligned with their interests and abilities."
"A divide and conquer approach?" Artoria asked directly.
"An efficient use of limited time," Longxian countered smoothly. "Though you're welcome to adjust these suggestions as you see fit. My empire is open to your inspection—within reasonable security constraints."
"And while we explore, what will you be doing?" Zenobia inquired.
"Managing an empire," Longxian answered simply. "The void-creatures are but one of many concerns requiring imperial attention. Though certainly the most pressing."
A commotion from the courtyard drew their attention. Barghest had disarmed all three guards simultaneously and now stood over them, her massive form heaving with exertion and excitement.
"Is this truly the best your empire offers?" she called out, her voice carrying clearly to the balcony. "I expected more from the world's conqueror!"
Longxian's expression remained impassive, but something sparked in his eyes—a hint of the warrior beneath the emperor's composure. Without a word, he vaulted over the balcony railing, descending the thirty-foot drop with casual grace to land in the courtyard below.
The guards immediately prostrated themselves, but Longxian gestured for them to rise. "You fought well against an opponent beyond ordinary measure. There is no shame in your performance."
He turned to Barghest, who towered over him in her combat form. "The Fae Knight seeks a more challenging opponent?"
Barghest's bestial features twisted into something resembling a grin. "Unless the Emperor is too occupied with 'managing an empire' to demonstrate his own prowess."
A murmur ran through the gathering crowd of palace staff and guards. It had been decades since anyone had witnessed the Emperor in direct combat—most of his battles now fought through proxies and armies.
"A brief demonstration, then," Longxian agreed, removing his outer robe and handing it to a nearby attendant. Underneath, he wore a simple black tunic that did little to hide his warrior's physique—broad-shouldered and powerfully built despite his seemingly ageless appearance.
He carried no visible weapon, which drew concerned whispers from the onlookers. Barghest, in contrast, extended her claws further, each now gleaming with fae energy that could shred through ordinary armor.
"Interesting," Proto Merlin murmured from the balcony. "Our host doesn't back down from challenges, even symbolic ones."
"It's not symbolic to him," Zenobia observed. "Watch his eyes. He's treating this as a genuine combat assessment—of both himself and Barghest."
The courtyard cleared as spectators moved to a safer distance. Barghest circled Longxian predatorily, while the Emperor simply stood motionless at the center, his posture relaxed yet perfectly balanced.
Without warning, Barghest lunged—a blur of motion that would have been invisible to normal human perception. Her claws aimed for Longxian's throat in a strike that could decapitate an ordinary opponent.
The Emperor moved only at the last possible instant, shifting just enough for Barghest's claws to pass within a hair's breadth of his neck. The movement seemed effortless, almost lazy, yet perfectly calculated.
Barghest's momentum carried her past him, but she recovered instantaneously, pivoting to launch a secondary attack with her tail. This time, Longxian caught the appendage bare-handed, his fingers closing around it with irresistible strength.
"Impressive speed," he commented, his voice showing no strain despite visibly restraining the powerful Fae Knight. "But predictable follow-through."
With a simple twist of his wrist, he redirected Barghest's momentum, sending her stumbling sideways. Rather than press his advantage, he released her and resumed his neutral stance.
Barghest snarled in frustration and unleashed a barrage of strikes—claws, teeth, and tail all deployed in a whirlwind of bestial fury. Longxian evaded or deflected each attack with minimal movement, his expression remaining calm, almost contemplative, as if analyzing her combat style rather than fighting for his life.
"He's toying with her," Scáthach observed, impressed despite herself.
"No," Artoria corrected quietly. "He's teaching."
Indeed, after several exchanges, a pattern emerged. Each time Barghest employed the same attack sequence, Longxian's counter grew incrementally more forceful, pushing her to adapt. When she modified her approach, he would allow the exchange to continue longer before neutralizing her offense.
"Combat as conversation," Zenobia realized. "He's communicating through action rather than words."
After a particularly fierce combination that Barghest thought had finally broken through his defense, Longxian suddenly shifted from evasion to offense. His hand moved in a blur, striking five precise points along Barghest's extended arm. The limb immediately went numb, her claws retracting involuntarily.
"Pressure point manipulation," Scáthach identified. "But applied to a fae anatomy that shouldn't be susceptible to such techniques."
"He's using spiritual energy to adapt the technique to her specific physiology," Proto Merlin explained, her playful demeanor replaced by professional analysis. "He's reading her spiritual structure in real-time during combat."
Below, Barghest roared in frustration, her disabled arm hanging uselessly at her side. She charged again, this time gathering fae energy for a devastating area attack that would be impossible to simply evade.
As the energy reached critical mass, Longxian finally drew on his own power. Golden-crimson light emanated from his form—not as an aura, but as tightly controlled streams that coalesced around his right hand. When Barghest released her attack—a shockwave of destructive fae energy—Longxian simply caught it, the golden-crimson light absorbing and neutralizing the blast.
Then, with a gentle push, he released a fraction of the contained energy back toward Barghest. It struck her with precisely calibrated force—enough to send her skidding backward across the courtyard but causing no actual injury.
The message was clear: he could have returned the full force of her attack if he'd chosen to.
Barghest panted heavily, her battle-lust gradually receding as understanding dawned in her eyes. She straightened to her full height, then did something that shocked the onlookers—she bowed deeply to the Emperor.
"I acknowledge your strength," she declared in her rumbling voice. "The Fae Knight of Faerie Britain recognizes a worthy alpha."
Longxian returned the bow with equal respect. "And the Dragon Spire Empire recognizes a warrior of exceptional quality. Your ferocity would be invaluable against our common enemy."
As Barghest's form gradually shifted back to her more humanoid appearance—still towering and horned, but less bestial—murmurs of amazement spread through the watching crowd. None had expected the fearsome knight to show such deference, nor the Emperor to respond with such evident respect.
From the balcony, Zenobia glanced at Artoria. "Well choreographed, wouldn't you say?"
"You believe this was planned?" Artoria asked, though her tone suggested she'd had the same thought.
"Not explicitly," Zenobia clarified. "But the Emperor seems to have anticipated the opportunity. A public demonstration of mutual respect between himself and one of us serves multiple purposes."
"It reassures his people that we aren't threats," Scáthach agreed. "While simultaneously establishing his credentials with us."
"And it was thoroughly entertaining!" Proto Merlin added with a laugh. "Our host is quite the tactician, in combat and politics alike."
Below, Longxian approached Barghest and briefly touched the disabled arm, his fingers glowing with the same golden-crimson energy. Immediately, sensation returned to the limb.
"The pressure points will be sensitive for several hours," he advised. "I recommend focusing on lower body training until tomorrow."
Barghest flexed her restored arm experimentally. "Your technique is unknown to me, and I have fought warriors across multiple realities."
"It is unique to this world's cultivation system," Longxian explained. "A combination of meridian theory and spiritual disruption that I developed during the Three Immortal Wars."
"You must teach me," Barghest stated—not a request but a declaration.
Longxian inclined his head slightly. "When time permits, I would be honored to exchange techniques."
As the crowd dispersed and Longxian prepared to return to his imperial duties, his gaze lifted briefly to the balcony where the four women observed. Something in his expression—a subtle acknowledgment of their analysis—made it clear he had been aware of their commentary throughout the exhibition.
"Definitely not a typical emperor," Proto Merlin murmured.
"No," Artoria agreed thoughtfully. "And perhaps that's exactly what this situation requires."
By midday, the summoned heroes had dispersed throughout the capital city and its surroundings, each accompanied by imperial guides chosen for their knowledge in relevant areas.
Zenobia found herself at the Vermilion Plains command center, a massive fortification built into the side of a mountain overlooking sprawling grasslands. The landscape bore scars of recent battle—crystalline residue covering patches of terrain, strange spatial distortions causing light to bend unnaturally around impact zones.
"The void-creatures targeted this region specifically?" she asked the commanding general, a weathered woman named Lin Feiyan whose armor bore countless battle markings.
"Third time this month," General Lin confirmed grimly. "Always different approach vectors, always testing different aspects of our defense grid."
Zenobia studied the tactical displays showing troop deployments and defense formation patterns. "Your formations are mathematically precise."
"They must be," Lin explained. "The enemy exploits even minute gaps in our spiritual barrier matrices. Precision is survival."
"Perhaps too precise," Zenobia mused, drawing a sharp look from the general. "Patterns that never vary become predictable, no matter how perfect their execution."
"Our formations are based on five thousand years of refined spiritual theory," Lin stated, a hint of defensiveness in her tone. "The Emperor himself approved their final configurations."
"And yet the enemy adapts with each encounter," Zenobia pointed out. "While your responses remain consistent."
General Lin's expression hardened momentarily before unexpected understanding dawned in her eyes. "You believe we should introduce deliberate irregularities. Controlled chaos."
"Precisely," Zenobia confirmed, impressed by the general's quick grasp. "Perfection becomes vulnerability against an enemy that studies patterns."
"A radical approach," Lin admitted. "But one with merit, given our current stalemate." She gestured to a private tactical chamber adjacent to the main command center. "I have experimental formation variants that the High Command deemed too unorthodox for implementation. Perhaps you would review them?"
Zenobia smiled, recognizing the professional respect being offered. "I would be honored, General."
As they entered the private chamber, Lin sealed the door with both physical and spiritual locks. "Between us, Queen of Palmyra, the Emperor suggested similar approaches three decades ago. It was the Immortal Clans who resisted such innovation."
"Political constraints on military necessity?" Zenobia raised an eyebrow. "A familiar story across worlds."
"The Emperor unified our world, but even he must balance competing interests," Lin explained, activating a display showing alternative formation designs. "The Immortal Clans provide crucial spiritual resources and personnel for our defenses. Their cooperation cannot be commanded, only negotiated."
"Even by an absolute ruler?"
Lin's weathered face showed a hint of a smile. "Especially by one who understands that true absolutism is illusion. Power endures through flexibility, not rigid control. That's why he summoned you and the others, I suspect. To introduce elements beyond our internal politics."
"You're remarkably accepting of outside intervention, General," Zenobia observed. "Many military leaders would resist such imposition on their command."
"I've fought the void-creatures for two centuries," Lin replied grimly. "I've watched good soldiers die against an enemy we cannot fully comprehend. Pride is a luxury the front lines cannot afford."
Before Zenobia could respond, alarms blared throughout the command center. Lin immediately reactivated the door, striding back into the main chamber where officers rushed to battle stations.
"Report!" she commanded.
"Multiple fractures forming directly above the northern defensive array," a sensor officer called out. "Spatial distortion patterns indicate Class Three incursion, possibly Class Four!"
"All units to alert status," Lin ordered without hesitation. "Activate the Seven Celestial Shields formation. Notify the capital that Vermilion Plains Defense Grid is engaging."
She turned to Zenobia, professionalism overriding courtesy. "Queen of Palmyra, I must request you return to the safe zone. This will be a significant engagement."
Zenobia's eyes gleamed with the light of battle. "General, if you'll permit me to observe from your command position, I may offer insights based on our earlier discussion."
Lin hesitated only briefly before nodding sharply. "Granted. But remain behind the primary barrier matrix."
Outside, the sky tore open like paper, bleeding white-gold light that seemed to bend wrongly around the edges. Through these fractures poured crystalline entities similar to the one from the previous night, but larger and more varied in configuration. Some resembled geometric shapes of impossible complexity, others flowed like liquid crystal, and a few took forms disturbingly close to massive humanoid silhouettes.
The imperial forces responded with disciplined precision—barrier formations activating in layered sequences, spiritual artillery launching concentrated blasts of energy, specialized units moving into carefully designated positions.
Zenobia watched intently, her military genius analyzing every aspect of the engagement. The imperial forces fought well—their coordination flawless, their spiritual techniques powerful. Yet she immediately noted what General Lin had tacitly acknowledged: the perfect predictability of their responses.
As the battle intensified, a particularly massive fracture formed at the center of the incursion zone. Unlike the others, this tear in reality pulsed with rhythmic purpose, as if something on the other side was methodically widening the opening.
"General," Zenobia called urgently, "that central fracture is different. It's being manipulated from the other side."
Lin immediately redirected sensors toward the anomaly. "Confirmed! Energy signature indicates deliberate manipulation. This isn't random—it's coordinated."
"They're creating a stable pathway," Zenobia realized. "The smaller entities are just distractions."
Before Lin could respond, the central fracture expanded dramatically, disgorging a entity unlike any previously encountered. It resembled a massive floating citadel composed of crystal and light, with numerous appendages extending outward like the legs of some cosmic spider. At its center pulsed a core of such intense energy that looking directly at it caused sensor arrays to malfunction.
"All units, concentrate fire on the primary entity!" Lin commanded, her voice steady despite the unprecedented threat. "Celestial Arrows formation, maximum output!"
The imperial forces redirected their attacks, spiritual energy coalescing into massive spears of light that streaked toward the floating citadel. Upon impact, however, the entity simply absorbed the energy, its crystalline structure glowing brighter with each strike.
"It's feeding on our attacks," Zenobia observed grimly. "Conventional spiritual energy makes it stronger."
Lin's face hardened as she assessed their rapidly deteriorating situation. "Activate the Emperor's Seal."
Her officers exchanged alarmed glances. "General, the Seal is only authorized for—"
"For extinction-level threats," Lin finished firmly. "I'm making the call. Activate it now."
A senior officer pressed his palm against a special array embedded in the command console. The array ignited with golden-crimson light—the same energy Zenobia had seen Longxian wield during his bout with Barghest.
Immediately, a massive projection of the Emperor's royal seal appeared in the sky above the battlefield. The floating citadel paused its advance, as if assessing this new development.
"What exactly is the Emperor's Seal?" Zenobia asked quietly.
"A direct channel to the Emperor's consciousness," Lin explained. "It allows him to observe and potentially intervene regardless of physical distance."
The projection pulsed once, twice, then shattered into thousands of golden-crimson shards that rained down across the battlefield. Where each shard touched an imperial soldier, their spiritual energy visibly intensified, their movements becoming sharper, more precise.
"He's enhancing the entire army remotely," Zenobia realized, genuinely impressed.
"More than that," Lin corrected, watching as the enhanced forces reorganized into new formations that seemed to form spontaneously rather than following predetermined patterns. "He's directly guiding their tactical deployment through spiritual connection."
The battlefield transformed as imperial forces shifted into completely unpredictable configurations—some units deliberately creating gaps in their formations that lured smaller crystal entities into traps, others combining their spiritual attacks in ways that changed their fundamental properties.
"This is what you suggested," Lin noted with grim satisfaction. "Controlled chaos. The Emperor is implementing irregular patterns in real-time."
The floating citadel seemed momentarily confused by this shift in tactics, its attack patterns becoming less coordinated as it attempted to analyze the new approach. This hesitation created an opening that the imperial forces immediately exploited, directing concentrated attacks not at the entity's central core but at specific structural junction points identified through the Emperor's guidance.
For several minutes, the battle hung in perfect balance—the imperial forces adapting constantly under Longxian's distant direction, the void-creatures attempting to counter with increasingly desperate tactics.
Then, without warning, a new fracture appeared directly above the command center itself.
"Evasive protocols!" Lin shouted, but too late. A beam of crystalline energy lanced downward, striking the mountain fortification with devastating force. The command center's protective barriers flared brilliantly before failing, plunging the chamber into darkness as systems overloaded.
When emergency lights activated seconds later, Zenobia found herself pulling General Lin from beneath collapsed equipment. The command staff scrambled to restore communications amid smoke and debris.
"They targeted us specifically," Lin coughed, blood trickling from a gash on her forehead. "They identified the command structure and adapted their attack."
"They're learning faster than expected," Zenobia agreed, helping the general to a functional console. "Can we reestablish connection to the field units?"
"Working on it," an officer called out, furiously rerouting systems. "Backup arrays coming online now."
The tactical displays flickered back to life, revealing a battlefield in chaos. With the command center temporarily disabled, the Emperor's direct guidance had faltered, leaving imperial forces momentarily disorganized. The crystal citadel pressed this advantage, its appendages lashing out to breach defensive formations at multiple points.
"We need to restore tactical cohesion immediately," Lin stated, wiping blood from her eyes. "Without central coordination—"
"They don't need it," Zenobia interrupted, studying the displays intently. "Look."
Rather than falling into disarray, the imperial forces were reorganizing themselves into smaller, independent groups. Each unit adapted to its local situation, employing unpredictable tactics rather than returning to standard formations. The Emperor's brief guidance had been enough to impart a new approach.
"They're implementing adaptive response patterns," Lin realized, genuine surprise in her voice. "Without direct orders."
"Your soldiers are better than you give them credit for," Zenobia observed. "When freed from rigid doctrine, they innovate."
As they watched, the battlefield dynamic shifted again. The crystalline entities, having prepared for either perfect formation patterns or complete chaos, now faced something between—organized improvisation that followed no recognizable logic.
The floating citadel began to retreat, its appendages withdrawing as smaller entities moved to protect it. The fractures in reality started to contract, signaling the end of the incursion.
"They're pulling back," Lin confirmed, unable to hide her surprise. "We've repelled a Class Four incursion without direct imperial intervention."
Zenobia nodded thoughtfully. "Because your forces fought like warriors rather than components in a machine."
As the last entities retreated through rapidly closing fractures, an atmosphere of stunned triumph spread through the damaged command center. Officers who had spent centuries following precise protocols now looked at each other with new understanding.
General Lin turned to Zenobia, blood still staining her armor, but her eyes clear with recognition. "Queen of Palmyra, I believe I understand now why the Emperor summoned you specifically."
"Oh?"
"Our empire has perfected warfare as a science," Lin explained. "But you remind us that it remains, at its core, an art."
Zenobia smiled slowly. "Perhaps that's what your void-creatures cannot comprehend—the unpredictable nature of true combat, where intuition sometimes outweighs calculation."
"You must join our strategic council," Lin declared. "Your perspective could revolutionize our defensive doctrine."
"I haven't yet decided to stay," Zenobia reminded her. "Though I admit, today's battle was... enlightening."
Lin's expression grew serious. "The entity we faced today was larger than any previously encountered, and it employed tactics we've never seen. The invasions are escalating. Whatever awaits on the other side of those fractures is preparing for something significant."
"All the more reason to reconsider your approach before that happens," Zenobia advised. "Today was merely a preview of possibilities."
As damage control teams worked to restore the command center, Zenobia gazed out through a shattered observation window at the battlefield beyond. The imperial forces moved with new confidence, adapting their cleanup operations based on immediate needs rather than protocol.
One battle hardly constituted victory in a war spanning centuries. But perhaps, Zenobia reflected, it represented something equally valuable: the beginning of necessary change.
While Zenobia experienced combat at the Vermilion Plains, Artoria found herself in the heart of the imperial war room—a vast chamber beneath the palace where the empire's greatest strategic minds coordinated defense efforts across the realm.
Unlike Zenobia's frontline exposure, Artoria's experience was one of clinical precision. The war room resembled a living map, with holographic projections showing real-time troop movements, defensive grid status, and fracture activity across the entire empire. Senior strategists moved between stations with practiced efficiency, their discussions technical and abbreviated—the language of those who had worked together for centuries.
High Marshal Zhao, the Emperor's chief military advisor and a cultivator of formidable reputation, personally guided Artoria's orientation. Unlike General Lin's weathered battlefield appearance, Zhao projected scholarly refinement—his robes impeccable, his white beard precisely trimmed, his manner formal but not unfriendly.
"The Dragon Spine Defense Network connects seventy-three major fortifications across the empire," Zhao explained, manipulating the central display to highlight an intricate web of spiritual energy pathways connecting strategic locations. "Each node maintains constant communication through quantum entanglement arrays enhanced by cultivation techniques."
"Impressive infrastructure," Artoria acknowledged, studying the network architecture with professional interest. "Though I notice the northern quadrant shows significantly higher resource allocation."
Zhao raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her immediate grasp of the display's technical details. "The northern territories border the Great Void Basin—a natural dimensional weak point. Incursions occur there with 37% higher frequency."
Their technical discussion continued for over an hour, covering everything from troop deployment algorithms to spiritual energy distribution protocols. Throughout, Artoria noted the war room's emphasis on mathematical precision and systematic response—an approach that had clearly served the empire well for millennia, but showed limited adaptation to the evolving threat.
When alarms suddenly blared, indicating the Vermilion Plains incursion, Artoria witnessed the war room's response mechanism in action. Stations immediately reconfigured to focus on the affected area, analysts calling out probability calculations and strategic assessments with machine-like precision.
"Vermilion Plains Command reports Class Three incursion, possible Class Four," announced a communications officer. "General Lin implementing standard countermeasures."
"Predictive models suggest 82% probability of contained resolution," added a senior analyst, consulting glowing arrays of spiritual calculations. "Recommend maintaining current alert status for adjacent defensive zones."
Artoria watched silently as the situation unfolded across multiple displays. When the massive crystalline citadel emerged, however, she noted immediate shifts in the war room's atmosphere—the calm efficiency giving way to controlled concern.
"Entity configuration matches no known typology," a senior analyst reported, his voice remaining steady despite the unprecedented development. "Size and energy signature exceed Class Four parameters."
"Recalibrate response models," Zhao ordered calmly. "Implement Celestial Scripture protocols."
The war room's activities intensified, with specialists working furiously to analyze the new entity and predict its capabilities. Artoria continued to observe, noting both strengths and weaknesses in their approach—impressive coordination and information processing, but perhaps overly reliant on established models for unprecedented threats.
When General Lin activated the Emperor's Seal, a new display ignited at the center of the war room—a direct connection to Longxian's consciousness as he guided the battlefield response remotely.
"Fascinating," Artoria murmured, watching the Emperor implement exactly the kind of adaptive, unpredictable tactics she would have recommended.
Zhao noticed her interest. "The Emperor sees warfare differently than most of our strategists. Where we seek perfect patterns, he sometimes introduces deliberate imperfections—controlled weaknesses that become strengths through unpredictability."
"A rare perspective for a ruler who has achieved near-perfect order," Artoria observed.
"Perhaps because he remembers what it meant to be the disruptor, not just the maintainer," Zhao replied thoughtfully. "Five thousand years ago, he was the chaotic element that shattered the old world order."
When the command center was struck and communications temporarily lost, the war room erupted into controlled urgency. Backup systems engaged, alternative communication channels established. Throughout the crisis, Artoria noted that while procedures were followed precisely, there was more intuitive problem-solving than she had initially expected from such a structured environment.
After the incursion was repelled and the situation stabilized, Zhao turned to Artoria with new respect in his eyes. "You remained remarkably calm throughout that crisis, King of Knights. Most visitors find our war room overwhelming during active combat operations."
"I've commanded armies in my own reality," Artoria replied simply. "Though your techniques differ from mine, the fundamental challenges of battlefield command remain constant across worlds."
"And your assessment of our approaches?" Zhao inquired, genuine interest evident in his tone.
Artoria considered her response carefully. "Your technical integration is unparalleled. The coordination between spiritual and conventional forces shows millennia of refinement. However..."
"Please, speak freely," Zhao encouraged when she paused.
"Your strategic doctrine emphasizes perfect execution of established patterns," Artoria continued diplomatically. "Against an adversary that learns and adapts with each encounter, such consistency becomes predictability."
Rather than taking offense, Zhao nodded slowly. "The Emperor said you would identify this vulnerability immediately. He described you as 'a tactician who understands both perfection and its limitations.'"
"He seems to have studied us quite thoroughly before the summoning," Artoria noted.
"For decades," Zhao confirmed. "The ritual required detailed understanding of those being called. The Emperor personally reviewed thousands of historical records and prophetic visions to identify heroes whose natures would complement our needs."
This revelation gave Artoria pause. The level of preparation involved suggested Longxian had been planning this intervention far longer than immediate necessity would dictate—a troubling implication regarding the true severity of the void-creature threat.
Before she could pursue this line of thought, a messenger arrived with a sealed scroll bearing the imperial crest.
"High Marshal, King of Knights," the messenger bowed deeply. "His Divine Radiance requests your presence at an emergency council meeting. All summoned heroes are being recalled to the palace immediately."
Zhao's expression grew grave. "Has there been another incursion?"
"No, Marshal," the messenger replied. "The Emperor has received intelligence from the Dream Observatory. Lady Proto Merlin has discovered something of urgent significance."
As they prepared to depart for the palace, Artoria reflected that their "observation period" had been cut significantly short. Whatever Proto Merlin had discovered must be dire indeed to prompt such an immediate recall.
The game of mutual assessment had apparently ended. Now the real work would begin.
Chapter 6: Convergent Paths
The imperial throne room had been transformed into a war council chamber. The Dragon Throne itself had been moved aside in favor of a massive circular table inscribed with the empire's spiritual defense grid—a three-dimensional projection showing real-time status of barriers, fortifications, and fracture activity across the realm.
Emperor Longxian stood studying the projection as the summoned heroes arrived in groups, each returning from their respective explorations of the empire. His expression revealed nothing, but the tension in his posture spoke volumes about the gravity of the situation.
Consort Mei greeted each arrival personally, her usual serene demeanor tinged with subtle urgency. "Thank you for returning so promptly," she said as Artoria and High Marshal Zhao entered. "The Emperor will begin once everyone is present."
Zenobia arrived shortly after, still wearing battle-stained armor from the Vermilion Plains incursion. She exchanged meaningful glances with Artoria—both had clearly formed significant impressions during their separate investigations.
Scáthach materialized from the shadow of a pillar, having apparently chosen shadow-walking rather than conventional transportation. Barghest strode in with uncharacteristic seriousness, her usual aggressive demeanor subdued by whatever she had witnessed during her tour of the empire's beast-taming facilities.
Jeanne and Xuanzang arrived together, having jointly visited several spiritual sites throughout the capital. Tomoe and Kenshin followed soon after, both carrying scrolls containing notes from their observations of the empire's elite training protocols.
Nobunaga sauntered in last, seemingly unconcerned by the emergency summons. "Did I miss anything entertaining?" she asked loudly, drawing disapproving glances from imperial officials.
Only two remained absent: Proto Merlin, whose discovery had prompted the meeting, and Ibuki-Douji, whose whereabouts were unclear.
As if summoned by the thought, the massive doors swung open once more. Proto Merlin entered, her usual playful demeanor entirely absent. Behind her floated a three-dimensional construct of light and shadow—a miniature representation of the fractured sky, meticulously detailed down to the smallest energy fluctuations.
"Apologies for the dramatic entrance," she announced, directing the floating model to the center of the table. "But this couldn't wait for the full observation period to conclude."
"Where is Lady Ibuki-Douji?" Consort Mei inquired, noting the final absence.
"Here," came the serpentine voice as Ibuki slithered in from a side entrance, her partial transformation evident in her more pronounced inhuman features. "I was in the lower archives, confirming something relevant to our discussion."
Longxian nodded acknowledgment to them both, then addressed the assembled group. "Thank you all for returning on such short notice. Lady Proto Merlin has discovered something of critical importance regarding the void-creature incursions."
He gestured for the enchantress to proceed.
Proto Merlin stepped forward, expanding her floating model until it filled the space above the table. "While visiting your Dream Observatory, I noticed something your astronomers missed—not through any fault of their own, but because they lacked the proper context."
She manipulated the model, highlighting specific fracture patterns across the representation of the sky. "These aren't random tears in reality. They form a specific runic
Dragon Spire Ascension: The Emperor Who Summoned Legends
Chapter 6: Convergent Paths (Continued)
"These aren't random tears in reality. They form a specific runic language," Proto Merlin explained, her fingers dancing through the projection to isolate particular patterns. "A cosmic script I've only encountered in the oldest dreamscapes of forgotten gods."
The assembled heroes studied the highlighted patterns with growing concern. What had appeared as chaotic fractures now clearly showed deliberate design—curves and angles that connected across vast distances to form complex symbols.
"It's a summoning circle," Scáthach realized first, her ancient eyes narrowing. "But on a planetary scale."
"Precisely," Proto Merlin confirmed grimly. "They're not just attacking—they're preparing this entire world as a gateway."
"A gateway for what?" Zenobia demanded.
Proto Merlin's expression darkened. "That's where Ibuki-Douji's research becomes relevant."
All eyes turned to the serpentine woman, who slithered forward, her tail creating soft rasping sounds against the marble floor. In her hands, she carried an ancient scroll that seemed to shimmer with its own internal light.
"This text comes from your Forbidden Archive," Ibuki explained, carefully unrolling the delicate parchment on the table. "It describes an event from before your recorded history—what it calls 'The First Devouring.'"
The scroll contained illustrations that eerily mirrored the fracture patterns in Merlin's projection, along with text in a script so ancient that even most imperial scholars present couldn't decipher it.
"According to this account," Ibuki continued, "your world once faced a similar threat—entities that 'ate the sky' and 'drank the spiritual essence of all living things.' They prepared the world through patterns of 'wounded heaven' before attempting to bring through something called..."
She hesitated, struggling with the translation.
"The World Eater," Longxian finished quietly. All eyes turned to him in surprise. "I've read this account. It describes a cosmic entity that consumes the spiritual essence of entire realms, leaving them as lifeless husks before moving to its next feeding ground."
"You knew?" Artoria asked sharply.
"I suspected," Longxian corrected. "These records are fragmentary at best, considered more myth than history by most scholars. But as the incursions continued, the similarities became too significant to ignore."
"How was it stopped before?" Kenshin inquired, her tactician's mind immediately seeking solutions.
"It wasn't—not completely," Longxian replied. "The ancient cultivators managed to close the gateway before the World Eater fully manifested, but at tremendous cost. The resulting backlash created what we now call the Great Void Basin in the northern territories—a wound in reality that has never fully healed."
"And now the process begins again," Jeanne said softly. "But why now? After so many millennia?"
Ibuki-Douji slithered closer to the projection, her serpentine eyes studying the patterns intently. "The scroll mentions a cycle—approximately ten thousand years between attempts. If your world repelled the first invasion five thousand years before your reign began..."
"Then we are precisely when the second attempt should occur," Longxian concluded. "The timing of your summoning was not coincidental."
A heavy silence fell over the chamber as the implications sank in. This was not merely an invasion or even an existential threat to the empire—it was a cosmic predator preparing to consume their entire world.
"Well," Nobunaga broke the silence with characteristic irreverence, "that certainly explains why you went fishing for heroes from other realms. Though I must say, Emperor, your recruitment pitch could have been more forthcoming about the 'world-ending cosmic horror' aspect."
Despite the gravity of the situation, several of the heroes couldn't suppress small smiles at Nobunaga's gallows humor.
"Would you have come willingly if asked?" Longxian countered, a hint of wry amusement briefly lightening his serious expression.
"Absolutely," Nobunaga grinned fiercely. "Nothing gets the blood pumping like impossible odds. But that's me—others might have preferred more disclosure."
"Fair criticism," Longxian acknowledged with a slight incline of his head. "However, the ritual required summoning heroes who would be naturally aligned with this world's defense, not merely those willing to fight. Your presence here confirms that alignment exists, regardless of full disclosure."
"Clever rationalization," Scáthach commented dryly. "But what's done is done. The question now is how to prevent this 'World Eater' from completing its gateway."
"The ancient texts are frustratingly vague on specifics," Consort Mei interjected, stepping forward to indicate particular passages on Ibuki's scroll. "They speak of 'seven pillars of reality' that were reinforced to close the gateway, but their nature and location remain unclear."
"Seven pillars..." Xuanzang perked up. "That sounds similar to concepts in my world's cosmology! Foundational supports that maintain the boundaries between realms."
"In Nordic myth, there are pillars that hold the heavens apart from earth," Barghest added unexpectedly. "Perhaps a similar concept exists here?"
"The Seven Sacred Mountains," High Marshal Zhao realized. "Ancient sites of tremendous spiritual power, predating even the First Dynasty. Each sits upon a convergence point of natural spiritual energy flows."
"And each precisely aligns with one of the major fracture clusters," Proto Merlin confirmed, manipulating her projection to overlay a map of the empire. Seven mountain peaks illuminated in perfect correspondence with the largest fracture patterns.
"These mountains have been incorporated into our defensive grid for millennia," Longxian explained. "But perhaps we've been fortifying symptoms rather than addressing the true vulnerability."
"The void-creatures aren't just attacking randomly," Artoria summarized, her tactical mind quickly grasping the strategy. "They're systematically weakening the natural barriers at these convergence points."
"Which means we need to reinforce them," Tomoe concluded. "But how? If your empire's defenses haven't been sufficient..."
"Because we've been applying our cultivation system's approach to a problem that predates it," Longxian stated. "We've been using techniques developed over the past ten thousand years against a threat that existed before any of them were conceived."
He turned to face the eleven heroes directly. "This is why I summoned you. Not just for your power, but for your diversity of approach. Each of you represents a completely different paradigm of spiritual, magical, or divine energy manipulation."
"You're suggesting we each take responsibility for reinforcing one of these mountains?" Zenobia asked, eyebrows raised at the audacity of the plan.
"Not exactly," Longxian corrected. "I propose seven teams, each combining imperial cultivators with two of you, bringing different perspectives to each site. The final convergence point—the central peak—would be defended by myself and whichever of you proves most compatible with its specific energy signature."
As the heroes considered this proposal, a tremendous boom shook the palace. Warning talismans throughout the throne room flared to life as guards rushed to defensive positions.
"Multiple fractures forming directly above the capital!" a communications officer reported urgently. "Largest concentration detected to date!"
"They know we've discovered their plan," Artoria realized immediately. "This is a preemptive strike."
Longxian's expression hardened into battle readiness. "It seems our planning session will have to continue after we deal with this immediate threat." He turned to the assembled heroes. "I would never command you, but I ask for your assistance. My people are in danger."
"Finally, some action!" Nobunaga declared, materializing her rifles with a flash of crimson light. "Talking about cosmic horrors is boring—shooting them is much more satisfying."
One by one, the other heroes signaled their agreement—some with enthusiastic nods, others with solemn determination. Whatever reservations they held about Longxian's methods or motives, none would stand aside while innocents faced destruction.
"Marshal Zhao, coordinate with the city defense grid," Longxian ordered. "Consort Mei, activate the palace shelter protocols for non-combatants."
As imperial officials rushed to execute these commands, Longxian turned back to the heroes. "Let us show these void-creatures what happens when they threaten a world protected by legends from across reality."
With that rallying call, they moved as one toward the palace's upper levels, preparing to confront whatever horrors now descended upon the Dragon Spire capital.
The scene that greeted them atop the palace's highest observation platform was apocalyptic. The sky above the capital had been torn apart, dozens of massive fractures leaking that unnatural white-gold light. Through these wounds in reality poured hundreds of crystalline entities—from small scout forms to massive architectures that defied conventional geometry.
Unlike previous incursions, these attackers moved with clear purpose rather than experimental probing. They targeted key spiritual nodes throughout the city with precision strikes, ignoring defensive formations to focus on infrastructure.
"They're destroying the city's spiritual foundation," Consort Mei explained, her hands weaving protective enchantments around the observation platform. "Without those nodes, our entire defensive grid will collapse."
"Then we protect the nodes," Artoria stated decisively, immediately falling into her natural leadership role. "We need to split into teams based on complementary abilities."
Longxian nodded in agreement. "The city has seven primary nodes, each anchoring a different aspect of our defensive matrix."
"Just like the seven mountains," Xuanzang realized. "This is a smaller version of the same pattern!"
"Precisely," Longxian confirmed. "The capital was designed as a microcosm of the entire defensive system. A test model, if you will."
"And now a convenient target," Scáthach observed grimly. "They destroy the model before attacking the original."
Without further discussion, they organized into teams—Artoria with Zenobia taking the central node, Scáthach with Barghest heading to the northern quadrant, Tomoe and Kenshin to the eastern sector, Nobunaga and Jeanne (an odd but potentially effective pairing) to the western approach, Xuanzang and Proto Merlin to the southern gates.
"Ibuki-Douji," Longxian addressed the serpentine woman, "would you accompany me to the palace's primary nexus? It requires specific handling that I believe your divine nature might complement."
"I would be honored, Emperor," Ibuki replied with a smile that contained perhaps more intimacy than the formal request warranted. "Though I wonder why you wouldn't choose the King of Knights for such an important position."
"Artoria's tactical mind is needed coordinating the city's overall defense," Longxian explained. "And your divine essence resonates uniquely with the palace nexus."
As the teams dispersed to their designated positions, Consort Mei approached Longxian. "I will coordinate from the central command chamber," she stated rather than asked. Her tone made it clear this was not open for discussion.
Longxian touched her hand briefly—a small gesture of affection rarely displayed in public. "Be careful, Mei. These attackers are different from previous incursions."
"As are you, with your new allies," she replied with a gentle smile before turning toward the command chamber. "Besides, I've survived five thousand years at your side. I hardly think today will be the exception."
As she departed, several of the female heroes gave Longxian appraising looks, clearly reassessing the relationship between Emperor and Consort. It was evident their bond went far deeper than formal imperial arrangement.
"We should move quickly," Ibuki-Douji reminded him, interrupting his momentary distraction. "The nexus won't defend itself."
Nodding sharply, Longxian led her toward a concealed entrance at the platform's edge. "The fastest route is through the Spirit Pathways," he explained, placing his palm against what appeared to be solid wall. The surface rippled like water at his touch, revealing a shimmering corridor of pure spiritual energy.
"Fascinating," Ibuki murmured as they entered the pathway. "Your cultivation system allows for physical manifestation of spiritual channels."
"A technique I developed during the unification wars," Longxian explained as they moved swiftly through the glowing passage. "It allows instantaneous movement between key locations for those with sufficient spiritual sensitivity."
"Yet another reason you sought outside help," Ibuki observed shrewdly. "Your enemies are learning to navigate these pathways, aren't they?"
Longxian's expression confirmed her suspicion. "Recent incursions have shown disturbing adaptation to our spiritual infrastructure. They're learning to use our own systems against us."
As they traversed the Spirit Pathway, Ibuki gradually shifted further into her true form—her lower body fully serpentine, her upper body retaining humanoid features but with more pronounced scales and elongated fingers tipped with delicate claws.
"Does my true form disturb you, Emperor?" she asked, noticing his glance.
"On the contrary," he replied with surprising candor. "It's refreshing to see someone embrace their nature rather than constrain it to meet others' expectations."
"Even when that nature is monstrous by human standards?"
"There is beauty in authenticity, regardless of form," Longxian stated simply. "Besides, after five thousand years of existence, one's definition of 'monstrous' becomes considerably more nuanced."
Ibuki laughed, the sound like water flowing over stones. "You continue to surprise me, Emperor. Most rulers I've encountered were far less... philosophically flexible."
"Most rulers haven't had five millennia to reconsider their perspectives," he countered with a hint of humor. "Immortality's primary gift is the luxury of evolution."
Their conversation paused as they reached the pathway's exit—a circular doorway opening into a vast underground chamber. At its center stood a massive crystal formation that pulsed with golden-crimson light—Longxian's unique spiritual signature—surrounded by concentric rings of complex arrays etched into the stone floor.
"The Primary Nexus," Longxian explained. "The heart of the palace's spiritual defense system, and by extension, the keystone of the capital's entire protective grid."
Ibuki's serpentine eyes widened as she assessed the structure. "It's magnificent. The spiritual density here is unlike anything I've encountered."
"Five thousand years of continuous refinement," Longxian said with quiet pride. "Each Emperor traditionally contributes to their palace's spiritual foundation, but since I've been the only Emperor..."
"You've had plenty of time for improvements," Ibuki finished with a smile. "Though I notice something curious about the design."
"Oh?"
"These formations," she gestured to specific arrays, "they incorporate elements that seem deliberately incomplete—as if waiting for complementary energy to activate their full potential."
Longxian's expression revealed nothing, but his eyes showed appreciation for her perception. "You have excellent insight, Divine Beast. Yes, the nexus was designed with... flexibility in mind. Certain aspects remain adaptable to different types of spiritual energy."
"How convenient that you happened to summon beings with exactly those types of energy," Ibuki observed with a knowing smile. "Almost as if this was part of your plan all along."
Before Longxian could respond, the chamber shuddered violently. Dust and small stone fragments rained from the ceiling as the crystal formation's light flickered momentarily.
"They've located the nexus," Longxian stated grimly. "We need to reinforce the barriers immediately."
He moved to a control array near the crystal formation, his hands flowing through a complex sequence of gestures that caused the concentric rings to ignite with heightened spiritual energy. Ibuki positioned herself on the opposite side of the formation, instinctively understanding her role.
"Channel your divine essence into the third and fifth rings," Longxian instructed. "Your serpentine nature should resonate with the water and wood aspects of the formation."
Ibuki complied, her divine power flowing like liquid silver into the specified arrays. The effect was immediate—the designated rings flared with brilliant blue-green light, strengthening visibly as her energy integrated with the existing structure.
"The compatibility is even better than I anticipated," Longxian observed with satisfaction. "Your divine essence fills gaps in our cultivation system's approach."
"Happy to be useful," Ibuki replied, a hint of exertion in her voice despite her smile. "Though I'm curious—have you tested each of us for compatibility with these formations?"
"Theoretical models only," Longxian admitted, continuing his own complex manipulation of the nexus's core energies. "But yes, I selected each of you partly based on how your spiritual signatures might interact with our world's fundamental forces."
Another, stronger tremor shook the chamber, causing several smaller crystals to shatter. A section of ceiling collapsed near the entrance, narrowly missing them.
"They're getting closer," Ibuki warned, her serpentine body coiling protectively around her section of the formation. "How long can the outer defenses hold?"
"That depends entirely on how successful our new allies are in defending the secondary nodes," Longxian replied, his concentration never wavering from his work. "But I have faith in their capabilities. That's why I summoned them, after all."
Across the city, the other heroes engaged the crystalline invaders with varying tactics and spectacular displays of power.
At the central node—a public square containing a massive stone pagoda—Artoria and Zenobia coordinated the defense with military precision. Imperial guards formed disciplined formations under Zenobia's direction while Artoria confronted the largest threats personally, Excalibur's invisible blade cutting through crystalline entities with impossible effectiveness.
"They're targeting the pagoda's foundation!" Zenobia called out, directing a unit to reinforce the threatened section. "Their attacks are becoming more coordinated!"
Artoria nodded grimly, dispatching another crystal construct before responding. "They're learning from each engagement. Notice how they probe for weaknesses before committing to full attacks."
A particularly massive entity—resembling a floating polyhedron with dozens of geometric appendages—descended toward the square, its crystalline body pulsing with energy that distorted space around it.
"Allow me," Zenobia declared, stepping forward with her twin polearms spinning in complex patterns. "My weapons were made to topple empires—let's see how they fare against cosmic horrors."
With remarkable grace for a warrior queen, Zenobia launched herself skyward, her polearms leaving trails of golden light as they struck the entity from multiple angles simultaneously. Each impact caused facets of the crystal being to crack and leak that strange white-gold light.
The entity retaliated with beams of energy that warped the very air they passed through, but Zenobia moved with dancer-like precision, evading each attack while continuing her offensive. When one beam came too close, Artoria intervened with a precise swing of Excalibur, somehow cutting the energy itself and dispersing it harmlessly.
"We fight well together, King of Knights," Zenobia called down, genuine appreciation in her voice. "Perhaps there's something to the Emperor's compatibility theories after all."
"Focus on the task at hand," Artoria replied, though a small smile belied her stern tone. "But yes, I find our combat styles remarkably complementary."
As they continued their defense, both warriors noted with professional interest how well their abilities meshed—Zenobia's aggressive but precise strikes creating openings that Artoria's tactical genius immediately exploited. It was as if they had trained together for years rather than just met.
"The Emperor chose his champions with exceptional care," Zenobia observed between attacks. "Our specific abilities seem almost designed to work in concert."
"A concerning thought," Artoria admitted, deflecting a crystal shard with her blade. "It suggests a level of foreknowledge that should be impossible across dimensions."
Before Zenobia could respond, a deafening crack split the air as the sky directly above them tore open wider than any previous fracture. Through this massive wound poured a new entity unlike any they had encountered—a colossal humanoid figure composed entirely of that strange white-gold light, its features vague but distinctly regal.
"Defenders of the finite realm," it spoke, its voice resonating directly in their minds rather than through conventional sound. "Your resistance is noted but ultimately irrelevant. The Convergence approaches. The Feast is prepared."
Artoria and Zenobia exchanged alarmed glances. This was the first time any void-creature had attempted communication.
"What is your purpose here?" Artoria demanded, stepping forward fearlessly despite the entity's overwhelming presence. "Why do you attack this world?"
"Attack?" The light-being's tone conveyed something like amusement. "We do not attack. We harvest. We prepare. We make way for the Consumer of Worlds."
"To what end?" Zenobia pressed, positioning herself beside Artoria in a show of united defiance.
"End? There is no end. Only consumption and growth. Your world is spiritually rich beyond measure—a feast that will sustain the Great Consumer for an eon." The entity's form rippled with what might have been anticipation. "We offer you transcendence through consumption. Your essence will become part of greatness beyond comprehension."
"We decline your generous offer," Artoria replied coldly, raising Excalibur. "This world is under our protection."
The light-being studied them with faceless curiosity. "Interesting. You are not of this realm. Anomalies. Variables introduced by the long-lived one." Its form brightened intensely. "This requires adjustment to the harvesting approach."
Without warning, it released a pulse of energy that knocked both warriors backward. Where the pulse touched the central pagoda, the stone began to crystallize, transforming into the same material as the invading entities.
"It's infecting the node directly!" Zenobia realized, scrambling back to her feet. "We need to stop the transformation before it reaches the core!"
Artoria was already moving, Excalibur glowing with intensified power as she channeled her noble spirit's true strength. "Cover me! I'll disrupt the conversion process!"
As Zenobia engaged the light-being directly—her polearms somehow able to strike its seemingly incorporeal form—Artoria reached the partially crystallized pagoda. Placing her hand against the transformation boundary, she closed her eyes in concentration.
"Excalibur is more than a weapon," she murmured, her sword's invisible sheath dissolving to reveal its true golden form. "It is the crystallization of mankind's hope and dreams—the embodiment of the concept that promises victory."
The legendary sword blazed with golden light that somehow countered the alien crystallization, pushing it back inch by inch. Artoria's expression showed intense concentration as she forced her sword's conceptual essence to override the foreign transformation.
"Impossible," the light-being stated, its mental voice showing emotion for the first time—concern. "Your construct contains conceptual weight that should not exist in this realm."
"That's rather the point of bringing heroes from other worlds," Zenobia replied with fierce pride, landing another striking combination that caused the being to fluctuate unstably. "We bring concepts your analysis cannot account for."
Across the city, similar battles unfolded at each of the secondary nodes. Scáthach and Barghest tore through hordes of crystal entities with primal ferocity in the northern quadrant. Tomoe and Kenshin moved in perfect synchronization in the east, their combined swordsmanship and archery creating devastation among the invaders. Nobunaga's anti-divine rifles proved surprisingly effective against the largest void-creatures, while Jeanne's protective barriers shielded civilians and infrastructure alike in the western sector.
Perhaps most impressively, Xuanzang and Proto Merlin had transformed the southern gate into a reality-warping zone where the monk's sutras and the enchantress's dreamcraft created an environment utterly hostile to the invading entities. Crystal beings that entered their area of influence found themselves bound by physical laws that their alien nature couldn't adapt to, becoming vulnerable to conventional attacks.
Throughout the city, imperial forces fought alongside the summoned heroes with growing confidence. Inspired by these legendary figures, ordinary soldiers performed extraordinary feats—adapting tactics in real-time, improvising unconventional approaches, fighting with the kind of creative determination that rigid training usually suppressed.
Back at the central node, Artoria had successfully purged the crystallization from the pagoda, restoring its spiritual functionality. Zenobia continued her assault on the light-being, which now showed visible signs of destabilization—its formerly cohesive form developing ripples and inconsistencies.
"Your kind has visited this world before," Artoria stated, rejoining the battle with Excalibur still in its revealed state. "And were defeated."
"A temporary setback," the being responded, though its mental voice now fluctuated erratically. "The cycle continues. The hunger remains. If not this convergence, then the next."
"There won't be a next," Zenobia declared, her polearms striking in perfect coordination with Artoria's sword techniques. "Not for you, at least."
Their combined assault pushed the light-being backward toward the fracture it had emerged from. As it approached the tear in reality, the entity seemed to reach some kind of decision.
"Fascinating variables," it communicated, its form already beginning to dissolve back into the fracture. "Adaptation required. New approach necessary." Its final words echoed in their minds as it retreated: "The Emperor's gambit is noted. Countermeasures will be implemented."
As suddenly as it had intensified, the attack began to subside. Throughout the city, the crystalline entities withdrew, retreating through rapidly closing fractures until the sky—while still wounded—was clear of invaders.
Artoria and Zenobia stood in the devastated square, breathing heavily from exertion but alert for any sign of renewed attack.
"They retreated too suddenly," Zenobia observed suspiciously. "This wasn't a defeat—it was a strategic withdrawal."
"After gathering new information," Artoria agreed grimly. "That entity recognized us as outside variables and deemed immediate adaptation necessary."
"Which means they'll return with tactics specifically designed to counter us," Zenobia concluded. "The Emperor's gambit of summoning cross-dimensional heroes provided temporary advantage, but that advantage is already diminishing."
Communication talismans throughout the city activated simultaneously, carrying Consort Mei's voice: "All defenders, the immediate threat has subsided. Primary and secondary nodes remain secure. Return to the palace for assessment and recovery."
As they prepared to head back, Zenobia placed a hand on Artoria's shoulder—a warrior's gesture of respect. "You fight magnificently, King of Knights. It was an honor to witness Excalibur's true form."
"As it was to observe the Queen of Palmyra in her element," Artoria returned with a small smile. "Though I suspect our greatest challenges still await."
"Undoubtedly," Zenobia agreed. "But I find myself strangely looking forward to them. It's been too long since I faced an enemy worthy of my full attention."
Artoria's expression grew thoughtful. "I find it curious how quickly we've all adapted to this situation. Despite being summoned without consent, we've integrated into this world's defense as if..."
"As if we belong here," Zenobia finished. "I've had the same thought. The Emperor's compatibility theory seems increasingly plausible. There's something about this world, this conflict, that resonates with our essential natures."
As they made their way through the damaged city streets, both warriors pondered this unsettling possibility. Had they truly been random selections from across dimensions? Or was there something more fundamental at work—some cosmic alignment that had drawn them specifically to this world at this precise moment in its history?
And if so, what did that suggest about their ultimate fate once the conflict concluded?
Chapter 7: Intimate Revelations