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40% Time.Travel() / Chapter 64: New Discoveries

Chapter 64: New Discoveries

This is ridiculous.

There are hundreds of cheering people in front of our fortifications; it looks like our propaganda efforts went very well. The inhabitants of the Tunnels are shouting my name, and they are overjoyed after my little display of power. This was the intended result, but even I couldn't predict that it would work so well, especially considering the rather cold attitude that the natives had regarding the Order.

Who could have guessed that effectively nuking an essential base of their sworn enemies would make my reputation skyrocket?

I retract my armor before smiling and waving at the crowd. This causes the cheers to erupt even more, and I swear that I saw some flakes of dried paint falling from the ceiling. A sigh escapes my mouth, now is an excellent opportunity to advertise our recruitment campaign.

However, I'm bad at speeches.

I take a deep breath and shout as loudly as I can, "People of the Tunnels! Today, I've shown that you no longer have to fear the Invaders!"

A loud roar comes from the crowd, and I pause until it calms down. "But this is just the beginning! The Order can save you all, gives you a better life! You will come under my divine protection, and I'll gladly recruit any of you who wants to join our fight against tyranny and oppression!"

A second of silence pass, then another.

Cold sweat starts to form on my forehead, did I do something wrong?

I am about to Rewind when an even louder roar makes my stomach tremble.

"I'll join! Death to those bastards!" someone says.

"Prometheus saved us!" another shout reaches my ear, and I refrain from grinning.

"We will crush anyone who opposes Prometheus!"

*ThAt's NiCe!*

Even the voice is happy, and for once it isn't because I'm murdering people.

I turn towards Terrence, who was behind me since I teleported back to the camp. From his smug grin, he's rather pleased with the current situation. "Finally, they finally see the light..." he mutters.

I'll act like I never heard that, I sometimes forget that I'm the leader of a cult of fanatics.

"Please allocate some personnel to handle the recruitment, and report to me at the end of the day," I say to the Commander, who nods before going back to into the camp.

"Now, let's see how this will go," I mutter when I spot Taanyth's figure in the back of the crowd. From the way he looks at me, he wants to talk.

*I hope he won't be asking something ridiculous. I'm the non-official ruler of this place, so he better not oppose me or make some silly request.*

It's with those thoughts running into my head that I teleport near him. The mana-spewing portals shock more than a few people, some gasp while others are kneeling while muttering nonsense about my divine nature.

"Well, do you want to say something to me?" I ask with a raised eyebrow. This time, I think that intimidating him with a quick burst of aura isn't necessary since my earlier display should have been more than convincing enough.

The old elf-like creature nods, "Yes, can we speak more privately?"

"Of course," I reply before freezing the timeline until I find the coordinates of his mansion. It takes a bit of trial and error because of the Shard's nature, but I'm sure that what I'm about to do will make me look cool.

A portal appears under the elder and his escorts' feet, and they don't even have time to scream before they sink into the portal. I make another one and appear just in front of the shocked group.

"T-This is..." he says while trying to catch his breath before kneeling. "I-I'm sorry to have ever doubted your divine nature, great Prometheus."

I don't say anything to stay in character. I was confident that the Portal Gun would reinforce my divine image. This situation makes me think about a quote I saw on the Internet a long time ago: 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.'

Well, this applies here. I mean, the Portal Gun is magical, but you get the idea. Something like my equipment must be like divine artifacts to a group whose highest technical accomplishment is a pointy stick.

"Don't worry about it," I say before prompting the old man to stand back up. "So why did you want to talk to me?"

"While you are now, without doubt, the leader of the Tunnels, there are still some other factions that are opposed to us. And they must trouble your efforts of unifying the Shard." The old man declares.

This is the first time that I've heard about other factions, wouldn't it make more sense to cooperate against the Invaders?

Confusion must've been visible on my face, so the old man continues his explanation. "You see, us Ilffs aren't the only race trapped in this Shard."

Now that I think about it, the people we encountered weren't like the long-eared Ilffs of the Tunnels. This name also sounds eerily similar to Elves, and they also have long ears so maybe they are related?

"All the races have formed their groups as a way to fight against the Invaders... As you already saw, it wasn't going well until you arrived," he says before sighing. It looks like he remembers some painful memories, so I don't say anything until he speaks again. "But these groups quickly came to blows over access to the dwindling number of functional Diving Stations."

"Diving Stations?" I ask with a raised eyebrow. It's the first time that I've heard the term.

Taanyth nods, "Yes, they are part of the relics strewn around the Shard that is from eons ago. They are what houses the Diving Suits, impossibly complex suits of armors that allows us to cross through the gaps between dimensions to reach the Surface to gather food and the likes."

Holy shit that sounds very interesting.

"What do you mean by Surface?" I think he means the Bazaar, but it doesn't hurt to ask.

"A large dimension filled with various shops as far as the eye can see, it's populated with a myriad of creatures that we have never seen before... Didn't you come from the Surface?" he asks with a confused expression.

Oh boy, his description matches the Bazaar. His explanation confirms that their Diving Suits allows them to travel between dimensions without teleportation, so it could be worth looking into. I bet we could reverse-engineer it, or at least upgrade our existing armors with this technology.

But it's a bit saddening to hear that they think that the only option other than living in a Shard is residing in the Bazaar. They'll be shocked beyond measure when I show them an actual planet.

"There exist worlds beyond your wildest dreams, and one day I will lead your people there." I say, "But what other artifacts do these Stations contain?"

"I only know of one other artifact, but I've never seen one myself. It's a story passed down from our ancestors, they speak of something called 'Dimensional Harpoon.' Those stories say that they are legendary artifacts capable of fusing two Shards, but I doubt it's true..." Taanyth's voice trails off at the end of his sentence.

Fucking hell, I'll need to investigate this. Making my Shard bigger while potentially gaining access to more population and gang infrastructure is hard to ignore.

But first of all, let's check out those Diving Stations.

"So where is the nearest of those Stations?" I ask while feigning disinterest. I can't be too excited, or it might raise suspicions.

"We only have one under our control, but I'll gladly assign one of our Divers to guide you there." He says, and I nod in approval. If those stations are contested areas, then it's better to claim them in my name before another faction decide to take them for themselves. My little display against the gangs should have cemented us as the leading power in the area, and nobody should be foolish enough to fight us.

But I don't have a lot of faith in the local faction leaders. My experience taught me that these people are usually unable to understand their situation correctly. And I have to be diplomatic since shooting everyone is going to deplete my pool of potential recruits and make the other factions hate us.

Hurray for politics!

It's in times like these that I understand the Terrence approach to public relations. After all, you don't have to bother with politics if there aren't any other factions.

Nevertheless, I suppress a sigh and address the ex-leader, "Got it, then bring him to my camp, I'll wait there." I then teleport away while relishing in the surprised gasp of Taanyth and his guards.

"Prometheus," Someone greets me as soon as I appear, and I return their salute before going towards the commanding tent.

But something stops me in my tracks. I didn't notice it at first, but four sizable queues are leading to different tents.

I ask a nearby cultist about the reason behind the large amount of Ilffs, "They are the people who want to join us. Each queue is for a different branch of the Order: The Legion, the Inquisition, the Fabricators, and the newly created Crimson Administration."

Oh, so Terrence made the administration its own thing? It's a good idea. The Order is snowballing so we will not be able to rely on the small administration we had before. I take a glance at the queues and notice a specific logo on the tents. The majority of the Ilffs are either going to join the Legion or the Inquisition, the queue for the Administration is not even half as large, and the line for the Fabricators is sparse.

It doesn't surprise me, people living in such horrible conditions don't have the time nor the access to the knowledge necessary to make a good Fabricator, so I can't blame them. But this could be a problem, the Fabricators are too few to complete the numerous projects we have planned, so we need to recruit more skilled people if we want to make reasonable progress.

We could also start an education program, but we don't have the workforce to implement it. And it would take the time that we don't have to properly teach everything someone needs to know to be a useful Fabricator.

In the end, we are still gaining soldiers, so I can't complain. Training them is going to take some time, but I won't bother teaching them any spells. We need them to be operational as soon as possible, so we'll have to show them how to use our weapons instead.

But this isn't my problem, for now, I have to focus on those Diving Stations that Taanyth mentioned. The existence of Diving Suits changes things. They could provide the missing link that could make the Portal Gun project a reality.

Now I have to wait until the Diver arrives. I sit around for twenty minutes, but I quickly become bored. Twiddling my thumbs doesn't sound like a good idea, so-

"Prometheus!" a cultist runs towards me.

Of course, something had to go wrong. I can't even have a fucking second of peace.

"Yes?" I say while maintaining a stoic facade.

"A rather large group of orc-like creatures are waiting at the entrance of the Tunnels! they are threatening to-"

The cultist is interrupted by a shockwave and the sound of groaning metal.

*Shit, we are under attack!*

I don't know why the Ilffs are targeted since there is no way that anyone would attack us after what we displayed to the inhabitants of the Shard...

Or it could be another gang! This is very likely; the timing is too good to be a coincidence. Maybe they have another mean of accessing the Shard that we don't know? Either way, this isn't good for us. The only exit of the Tunnels is that narrow corridor, sending men through this choke point will only result in substantial losses on our side.

Shit, it's my fault! I never once considered the possibility of being attacked in the Tunnel, so-

Another louder shockwave stops my train of thoughts. The horrified screams that soon follow make me grit my teeth as I pull out my phone.

I won't let you kill my people, you motherfuckers!

The Rewinder takes me back to twenty minutes before the attack.

*It's TiMe tO cRuSh ThEm!*

You couldn't have been more right! These fucks are expecting an easy win, but they are about to learn why you never anger a time traveler.

I activate my robes and shout as loudly as I can. "Legionaries! Prometheus demands your immediate attention!"

The camp comes to a standstill for a brief instant before all the available personnel stops what they were doing and pull out a weapon. These kinds of announcements are treated as the highest priority by any member of the Order, and they quickly form perfect ranks around me. In the meantime, I see that Roshia and her enlarged group of Inquisitors are already moving around to calm the crowd before they go into a frenzy.

This put my mind at ease. They are handling the situation pretty well despite their inexperience.

But maybe my standards are skewed. To me, everything is fine as long as people aren't starting to explode spontaneously.

Terrence rushes to my side and lowers his head, "Great Prometheus, what is the matter? How may I be of assistance?"

I turn towards the group of Legionaries, "We are going to be besieged in less than twenty minutes! The size and skill of the enemy's force are unknown, so prepare for the worst! We are deploying in five minutes so get ready!"

"Got it, we'll need to teleport our men out of here if we want a good chance of victory. They might have scouts patrolling the area." The Commander immediately replies.

"All right, tell me what I need to teleport," I say as I pull out my Portal Gun and select the third mode.

In less than five minutes, six machine gun emplacements are deployed. Of course, I had no idea where most of our equipment was, so I had to Rewind a few times until I got it right.

But my efforts paid off, and the camp, which has been a bit cannibalized to make emergency fortifications outside, is filled with Legionaries who are ready for battle. I order squads to hold hands and teleport them to their designated spots before teleporting to the battlefield with Terrence.

I can't thank the Commander enough, his quick thinking and experience are what allowed us to deploy so fast and efficiently.

It's somewhat worrying. Relying so much on a single man isn't a good thing, if Terrence is killed then the Order's war potential would be severely crippled. As horrible as this train of thought is, I need every member of the Order to be disposable. That means that we need to train more commanding officers in case the worst happens.

But let's focus back on the current situation. We are currently standing in a makeshift bunker hidden as a regular shack not too far from the battlefield. The machine guns are also hidden similarly, and the nests are placed in such a way that they cover every possible angle and point of arrival.

At least if the enemy doesn't teleport in.

I glance at my phone. There are only a few minutes left before the moment when the cultist warned me in the previous timeline, so we should-

"Contact!" A liaison officer shouts. "Team two has spotted a large force encroaching on our position! They are about a hundred of them, and from the look of things they aren't well-equipped!"

I nod and take a deep breath. Appearance can be deceiving, but sometimes it's the opposite.

"Got it, let's test their defenses. Fire a few volleys into the group, and order one of the regular squads to use an MH Shells barrage to weaken them!" I react and issue an order. This tactic might not be the best one, and things are likely to go wrong, but at least I'll be able to learn a bit more about-

"Enemy forces were successfully wiped out! The squads are now patrolling the perimeter for potential reinforcements!" the officer shouts and Terrence grins smugly.

What?!

I can't believe what I've just heard. This has to be a trap, so I better head there myself to make sure that no one is killed or wounded when the real attackers inevitably show up.

"I'm going to check out the battlefield; something feels wrong!" I say before sinking into the ground.

I emerge in the middle of a desolate scene: Limbs are strewn around a large pool of blood, and the rare identifiable remains are almost entirely turned into a fine paste.

This battle was a massacre, the enemies were only wearing brown rags, and their weapons could hardly be classified as such.

But these people could be cannon fodder who were sacrificed to trick us into lowering our guard!

I nod, this has to be it. There is no other explanation; nobody would be stupid enough to launch an attack with troops only equipped with rusty lances.

Right?


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Onch Onch

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Chapter 65: Troubles

Cleaning up the bloody battlefield and teleporting everyone back is quickly taken care of, so I go back to Taanyth's hut to learn more about those other factions. My sudden apparition makes him jump in his seat, but he seems to be less frightened than last time.

*It looks like he's getting used to it.*

"You seem knowledgeable about the factions in the area, so can you tell me more about them?" I show him a series of pictures of the more intact remains. He cups his chin after his initial astonishment caused by seeing the phone.

"They call themselves the Green Ones. They are a warmongering tribe of savages who always wanted to take the Tunnels and the Diving Station from us while enslaving the survivors. It isn't the first time they've done this, and weaker factions were wiped out by their abuse and reckless behavior. However, the Invaders kept them in check, and they haven't come out of their stinking hole-" Taanyth takes a deep breath and clenches his fists.

It looks like hatred for the aptly named Green Ones runs deep within the Ilffs. This situation makes me reconsider a problem that I glanced over, the fact that all those tiny factions must hate each other.

It is troubling. I hope that there aren't too many factions that hate each other, or I might be forced to wipe out the smallest ones to secure the support of the larger ones.

Shard politics are so complicated that they make my head buzz. The situation on Earth is a lot easier: Those who support the Enforcers, and the Enforcers themselves, are enemies and must be wiped out.

Speaking of Enforcers, I hope the two brothers will come to their senses and that they'll realize that this system cannot go on. In a perfect world, they would have formed a rebel faction by now. But I haven't heard any news so they must have decided to stick with their Family.

Maybe the Wolfheart will gracefully surrender when it's their time to be facing the might of the Order.

Who am I kidding, that old hag leading them is an incompetent woman clinging to notions that are from a bygone era. It makes my heart ache to think that I maybe will have to kill them, but I will not hesitate if it comes to it. As much as it pains me, my mission is more important than my friends.

Humanity will no longer stay subservient, and we will not be contained. This is the era of weapons of mass destruction and mechanized warfare, so the sword-wielding Enforcers are going to go through a rude awakening once all my magically-enhanced modern weaponry is built.

So you can throw fireballs around? How frightening, I'm trembling with fear in my fortress hidden in another dimension while a barrage of cluster bombs are teleported on your position.

"ThIs iS gOiNg tO bE fUn..." I mutter before stopping mid-sentence. I'm lucky that my helmet muffled my delusional ramblings, or else Taanyth would be even more frightened than he already is.

Letting this voice leak out is something that I shouldn't do, but it's sometimes stronger than me and spills out when I am having murderous thoughts.

*Speaking of murderous thoughts, it feels like I have them a lot more lately. Is it because of the situation, or for some other sinister reason?*

Of course, it's the former. There's absolutely nothing wrong with me.

I focus back on Taanyth, who has just calmed down. "Sorry for losing my composure, we lost some good people because of those green bastards," he says.

"Do not worry; the Order will protect anyone who is under my rule." I say to reassure the old man, "By the way, you mentioned that they enslaved people, so do you have any idea where those Green Ones are hiding?"

If the Green Ones are enslaving people, then there might be some slaves who are from a faction that 's still around. Saving them would give me a strong position for future negotiations. Furthermore, the enslaved people who have lost everything because of the Green Ones must be blinded by hatred.

I bet they'll fit perfectly into my Legion. Anything is possible with a bit of propaganda, and if I make a beautiful entrance, then the Prometheus persona should be able to convince them on the spot.

He shakes his head, "I'm afraid not, they are stronger than us, and their numbers are greater than ours. Attacking has never been something that we could do before-"

"Then this will change. The Green Ones will face divine retribution!" I shout with a short burst of aura for good measure.

I'm so glad that nobody has called me out on my bullshit. These robes are very useful: They make all negotiations easier, and they look quite cool.

"Thank you, great Prometheus..." Taanyth says with teary eyes.

Now I feel kind of sad for tricking them into what might be a lifetime of war.

But the Ilffs are getting something out of this deal. I'll grant them a planet of their own once Earth is freed. Of course, they'll still be under my rule, but they should be able to live good, peaceful lives somewhere near the solar system.

Being the ruler of an interplanetary empire does sound good, but there are quite a few things I need to do before even thinking about it. First of all, I need to establish my main base in this Shard and get rid of the Enforcers around me. Once this is done, then I'll have a stable power base, and the other Enforcers should know that provoking me isn't a good idea. This will then allow me to spread certain magical artifacts and potions to the masses. The resulting innovations will significantly improve the standards of living. As a bonus, it will help me fund my war effort.

I have to proceed carefully, or the Enforcers might band together as a massive coalition and utterly crush us. As powerful as we will be in the future, certain projects of mine will require substantial research and long construction time. So the Enforcers getting their shit together is absolutely the worst case scenario.

However, it seems unlikely that this will happen on a scale large enough to threaten the Order and I. This Shard is an excellent example of the situation on Earth: There are lots of factions that have been here for a long time, and this long history means that they went to war with their neighbors at some point.

As a result, tensions exist between the Families, and this should prevent them from joining forces in any meaningful capacity. Just imagining what might happen if some Enforcers Families indeed joined together as a single entity instead of a loose alliance makes me shiver.

But it's something that can't possibly happen. They are too entrenched in their ways of doing things.

Now let's focus back on the current situation. The Diver that Taanyth dispatched should have arrived at the camp by now, so I should go back. Furthermore, the Legionaries should have already reorganized the field, so I don't have anything else to do for now.

...Alex's PoV...

I regret everything I have ever done that led me to this moment.

My life was normal back then. I was just a regular college student doing normal student things. But this life is now a distant memory. My daily routine now consists of waking up impossibly early, and then I'm either patrolling while decked out in magical gear or going through the hellish training of the Legion.

This training made me more muscular, but I would gladly give up my muscles if it meant that I would be free from this chore. The Legionaries are insane, they go through the horrifying training program like it's the most natural thing in the world, and while reciting passages of the Codex as loudly as possible.

Meanwhile, I can barely stay conscious after half a day of this hellish routine. By comparison, patrolling is a lot better in that regards, the gear isn't too heavy, so it's easy to move. The gazillion enchantments on them also make sure that I'm never too hot or too cold, so that's a plus.

However, something that I can't get used to is the fanaticism. I guess it's mandatory since the Order is an actual cult, but it is still off-putting. They continuously praise Prometheus for doing anything, and I bet that if the guy took a shit, then it would be enshrined by the end of the hour.

I'm still skeptical about this whole Prometheus thing, even if I'm slowly getting used to it. Sarah and Cynthia are almost indiscernible from a regular cultist at this point, and they are always eagerly discussing their day while sometimes slipping a quick praise to the almighty Prometheus in the conversation.

The divine status of this guy might not be real, but I can at least admit that he knows what he's doing. Our rifles alone are proof of that fact. These things are so strong that a single bullet is enough to kill most of the magical creatures on the planet as long as they penetrate.

I think we shouldn't be worried on that front. The fucking bullets leave a trail of plasma behind them each time we fire. Our shields are also a copy of what Prometheus is wearing, and they are extraordinarily resistant. A rumor going around the barracks even says that the protection would be able to endure a nuclear explosion, and I pray that nobody would be insane enough to ask the Fabricators for a small nuke.

Because I bet that these guys would give it to them without a second thought.

The Fabricators are scary, and my eyes bulge each time Cynthia talks about how they casually made something that could turn an entire ocean into ice if it exploded in the right spot.

And this was originally a failed prototype for a fucking box.

The list of projects that Prometheus assigned to the Fabricators is fucking insane, at this point I'm convinced that the guy would build a Death Star if he could.

I'm taken out of my thoughts by an order from our squad leader, and we move to the next position. The compound is currently protected by a somewhat reduced number of soldiers. The majority of the Legion was dispatched to somewhere far from here as a part of a grand campaign. I wasn't told anything more, and I don't want to know.

But I bet it's something utterly ridiculous, for all I know the Legion is off fighting aliens on a faraway planet.

Patrolling the area gives me a sense of normalcy. It's true that we are looking for teleporting groups of mercenaries who might be from another universe, but at least it's not a giant demon.

According to our orders, we need more patrols since the mercenaries attacking us are getting harder to detect. They might appear out of literally nothing, so we have to keep an eye out for anything unusual.

Being on high alert continually is tiring, and the patrolling squads would frequently be rotated to make sure that we are in top condition. But the Legion is thinly spread, and we can't afford to not have the squads on constant patrol. We were given energy bars, according to the ones in charge of our food supply these small fruit-flavored bars were a mix of caffeine and various stimulants engorged with mana.

We were assured that the bars didn't have any side effects, but I do have my doubts even as I am gulping one down. Quite frankly, being a bit addicted to whatever I'm eating is still miles better compared to being dead.

I'm still inexperienced, but something that was drilled into me is how dangerous our enemies are. Every mercenary we faced so far could crush our bodies with their raw strength, not to mention that the later ones could theoretically move so fast that our eyes would not be able to register their presence.

This knowledge doesn't fill me with confidence, but the outcome of our battles show that victory is possible despite the bad odds. Honestly, I don't know how Prometheus fought against Beelzebub with so much ease, even with the great equipment he was wearing at the time.

There must be something more to him. Maybe he has an ability similar to Sarah's? It could explain why he seems to be able to predict the movements of his enemies. Her unique power is still a mystery to the Order, at least according to Sarah.

"Halt!" our squad leader says before going prone, and we immediately mimic his action. This reaction can only mean one thing, that we detected unknown presences in the perimeter!

The squad leader pulls out a pair of what looks like binoculars and points them in a direction just over the hill. Those aren't standard binoculars; they can also act as a low-frequency mana signature detector. I didn't understand the full explanation, but from what I can recall the artifact's effect melds with the background mana, so it's undetectable by a large portion of the population. It has it's drawbacks, like a small range and it can only transmit the number and vague position of the signatures, but it's still better than nothing.

The middle-aged man pales, "fuck, I think there's at least a hundred of them..."

The atmosphere instantly gets heavier. Such a large amount of soldiers must mean that they belong to a large group, and larger mercenary groups usually have better training and better gear.

"I detect strong signatures in the bunch, and they are on a level where we would need more than one M249 to pin all of them down." He continues his grim report.

We are fucked if they detect us, the only machine gun in the squad is a powerhouse, but the gunner can only aim at one target at a time if he wants to be effective.

"We'll request air support, I just hope they'll make it here in time before we are detected," the squad leader says before pulling out a secure phone from his belt. He begins to inform the commanding officers of the situation so that the compound can prepare for a massive assault, and request air support.

A sudden pressure almost slams us into the ground, and I grit my teeth as the barrier around me groans.

"Shit, this isn't good." the leader says, "A great signature has appeared, I think you can feel it from the camp. If we have some new bombs to drop on them, then this would be the ideal time to test them. Otherwise, we need to ask for Prometheus' help."

Tremors course through my limbs as I process the final words of my squad leader. Requesting the help of Prometheus is the absolute last resort, this means that we would be vaporized if we tried anything against that strong entity.

*Fucking hell, I don't want to die here...*

"Men, engage the MH Shells! Gunner, set up your emplacement here!" the leader says before placing three Shells into the shotgun under the barrel of his rifle. We all copy him while the gunner deploys his weapon.

We inch closer to the top of the hill, ready to pull the trigger and unleash the world-ending stream of energy stored in the innocuous Shells. But what we see makes us all pause.

A woman with shoulder-length silky black hair with red tips flowing freely in the winds stands opposed to the group of heavily armed mercenaries. She's wearing what looks like a mix between a leather armor and a tactical vest, and it hugs her shapely body in a very distracting way. An old but strong looking man stands behind her with his hands behind his back, he's wearing a bizarre set of armor that looks like an armored trench coat.

"Who are you? Are you with John Thomson?" the woman asks with an energetic voice.

"This prey is ours! Go away!" One of the massive, tree-like creatures in the mercenary group shouts back. He's eying the duo with what I assume is wariness, so he must know that they are mighty.

The woman licks her lips, revealing a set of teeth that might be a little too pointy for an average person. "So you're after him?"

"Of course we are! Listen, I'm willing to split the bounty between our groups if you help us take down this guy. So what do you say?" the humanoid tree ask with a hint of fear.

*Please say no, please say no!*

The woman turns towards the old man, who is lighting a cigarette. "Can I take care of them?" she asks while clenching her fist, and the man takes a long puff before nodding.

"Just don't go overboard, or we might attract too much attention," he says, and the woman almost jumps in joy.

"Yes! Now let's get rid of the troublemakers!" she turns towards the mercenaries, and I grip my rifle with trembling hands.

My jaw drops when flaming dragon wings materialize behind the woman. The mercenaries also look shocked beyond measure, and only some of them have the presence of mind to scramble for cover.

But it's already too late for them, a stream of superheated plasma emerges from the raised palms of the woman and sweeps through the ranks of the mercenaries, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake.

"What?! How dare you, I'll-"

The massive moving humanoid tree is silenced by a mana-enhanced punch that almost breaks him in half. He doesn't have time to recover before the woman surrounds him with blue flames, and the creature disappears from the surface of the planet in a split second.

At this point, the surviving mercenaries are all running for their lives and some attempt to teleport away. But the old man moves a single finger in the air. His power is nothing compared to the woman, but he's still deadly, and a needle of mana slightly disturbs their spells, thus allowing the woman to turn them into a smoldering crater.

It has barely been a minute, and the entire mercenary group has almost been wiped out.

How are we supposed to fight someone like this? I doubt air support would help against this woman. Our only hope is Prometheus...

My blood freeze when the woman's gaze meet my own.


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Onch Onch

Want to read up to 15 chapters in advance and support Time.Travel()? Check me out on P.atreon at www(dot)p.atreon(dot)com(slash)Onch

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Write a review Reading Status: C64
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  • Writing Quality
  • Stability of Updates
  • Story Development
  • Character Design
  • World Background

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