Bab 97: Comrade In Arm [Kolme]

"How is Anon still alive?" The Ferrakhian's composure had finally broken into shuddering. Her meticulously planned moment foiled one by one as if the gods witnessed her hubris. "I already killed her."

"This is why you never win against me." Dyaus chuckles, tapping on her adaptive phone with no care as Seizequill struggles to justify the busting of her delicate culmination of hard work.

"Her head isn't intact, what did you do to her?"

"Hmm?" The cockroach peeked without changing her face direction. "She has always been like that, although I did make her keep her identity a secret within the Assailant."

"I have access to every level 5 information there is." The Ferrakhian throws a sharp glare, seething for the few times it has ever been in her life.

"You think I'll be documenting that? Pfft! Wait a sec, I need to save this one."

Seizequill leans back on her chair, her posture slumping as she massages her temples from the sudden headache caused by the stress pounding her brain."Sometimes I forget that I'm dealing with an asshole. Still, what is Anon exactly?"

"You are actually right all along."

"Pardon?"

"Anon was already dead. She's an undead, a knight from an ancient tomb made by the power of faith through myth and legend."

"Wait, doesn't that mean—"

"Yes, she is a deity."

A deity, an entire being, exists through the accumulation of subconscious strings. Just like how Tekhanures are born through the course of nature, deities were formerly an object or a non existent thing made into reality because people held feelings and emotions for them, the feeling and inscribed memory that they were real.

"Weren't most of them annihilated in the God Slaying Era?" asks the Ferrakhian.

"They were but Anon was a young deity, she didn't even know that she was one."

Books told stories through the papers' work of ink and words. Some of them were passed down and even founded as relics from the ancient civilizations before the Judgement Day. The story of the Dullahan has its own fans within a small village somewhere far from this land, and that was a long time ago.

"I picked her up, you won't get a word from her," says the cockroach nonchalantly.

"Picking a deity as if they were cherries, truly a befitting word for someone as old as you."

"This is why you should respect your elders, we're just more capable than you young'un, hah!"

The war with the Calamities is almost everlasting,

A day has passed, and the logistics personnel begin to prepare immediate scrambles to the frontline. Ratatoskr is then finally able to hold a rendezvous with her detachment thanks to Pitka's clones. With a barbecue in the middle surrounded by Moose Battalion's personnel, the atmosphere is lively on the battlefield.

'Huwaa, she is still as scary as always,' Ratatoskr thought. 'I was only able to keep my composure due to the pressure of the Last Ark madam Dyaus gave me. Now that the real threat was neutralized, I'm going to deal with my menacing detachment for the rest of my working lifespan! I'm going to be killed!'

Although her mind is a mess and a half, she's able to keep her speech with a confident smile and composure. Probably because she's getting used to it. "Now that Miss Pitka and Liberia have literally dealt with the frontline passively, we can celebrate the becoming of our new family to the Moose Squad!"

"Truly, you all speak too highly of us," says the light-blue haired vampire, putting her best smile to assure everyone she was not a threat.

Liberia obviously did not care about showing any form of courtesy towards her superiors. Although, she is already being less menacing and more mild with Goyang cradled in her arms like a pet owner holding her cat.

"Seems like we're an official battalion now," says Obrez, holding a couple bottles of liquor in both hands. "What do we call the specialization of Zenon Squad now?"

"Most likely, I'll be assigning Zenon as an Annihilation Squad," replies Ratatoskr. "Like literally, just see that red army massacring Calamities."

The reindeer girl takes a bite on the meat while it's burning hot. "I'm curious about what they are."

"Those clones are actually made by the blood of those Calamities." Pitka gestures her forefinger up. "The artifact I use, of course. By essentially creating a hive mind using an AI's algorithm, they can learn and adapt by themselves."

"I see, so such a spell does exist. Quite amusing that a Primordial knew the word 'AI' and 'Algorithm'," Woez says.

"We read mortal's literature a lot."

Blood manipulation is an ancient technique. It wasn't even written on the Citadel's network or in any way. The concept of using blood as the medium of casting and contagious domination was found out to be rather hard to conceptualize because of the numerous variables required. Using virus vessels for a spell catalyst is also unheard of.

"Come on, Blast, you haven't said anything to our newcomers." Prod Ratatoskr to the silent man.

The shadow within the bottle he holds barges into the conversation. "Yeah, Blast, you need to socialize more."

"So, Ollie, I see that you have the presence of Tanomobi." The crimson devil begins to show her curiosity. "Quite a hassle to say but I'm pondering how you ended up there."

"Ohohoho, you want to listen to my story?"

"No," Blast immediately replies together with a chuckle. "Your story takes hours."

"It won't, it won't."

"Last time you said that, it stretched on twice as long with even more monotonous details." He flicks the glass of Ollie's cage. The bottled rat huffs like an old woman.

"Oiii! I told you to stop hitting the glass bottle!!"

Suddenly, numerous communication lines are connecting to every personnel of Moose Battalion.

"Operator Jaeger's speaking, this message was meant for operator Ratatoskr but the whole squad and its detachment must hear it for better clarity.

"An urgent Ark has been concluded, there is a possibility of a God-Class Calamity approaching from the west with extreme prejudice and could be detected from miles away by sticking like a sore thumb on the radar.

"This mission is an S-rank Last Ark. To ensure the survival of this Citadel, we want to borrow the strength of the Moose Battalion to smite this radical source of mana. The higher up expects the usual from you, Ratatoskr.

"Godspeed."

The Moose Squad glance among each other before finally falling upon their leader who stands up with a sigh. Relaxing is a necessity for the mind to not strain itself, but at the end of the day, there is no rest for the wicked.

"You heard 'em. Time to get back to work!"