章 335: Roar of a King (XVI)
Chapter 335
Roar of a King (XVI)
The plan was set in stone--at least the frame of it, anyway. There was a lot of 'maybes' shuffled about the general strategy for the raid due to the factor of simply not knowing all the things the behemoth can do. For the preparations, Cain had ventured quite far off in search of a desert, but didn't actually find any. As such, what they ended up doing was just grinding down rocks and stones en masse into fine powder, imitating sand. Though Cain was skeptical, the new material was actually recognized as 'Sand'.
Still, the sheer quantity they produced was enough to build a mountain, most-likely, and it was all stored in Cain's inventory, floating about the void, waiting to be used.
In total, there were 144 people present for the raid--four dedicated tanks, eleven dedicated healers, and 128 damage dealers, and then there was Cain, in charge of everything. In all fairness, a good chunk of damage dealers were tasked with supportive roles as they didn't have any long-range nukes-- 38 in total, actually.
All in all, it was a massive raid, and the sheer size made it quite difficult to manage. As such, the entire thing was broken up into much smaller groups, with their own leaders, and with the groups being assigned specific tasks over just individuals.
At the head stood Cain and Quinn, one responsible for the back-end of the fight and one for the front-end, respectively. Though it sounded important, their roles were actually largely in name or in case something goes absurdly wrong. After all, the two had to primarily focus on keeping the raid alive and kicking so that the behemoth could be defeated.
Furthermore, Cain would have two major roles to balance--stopgap tank and damage dealer. He was beyond confident that nobody in the raid could actually match his DPS; in fact, he was certain that five-six people could barely touch it. Furthermore, when it came to a singular burst of damage, in case a raid's mechanic required it, it would have to be him. Because of this, he'd hoarded over two hundred Mana Potions as he knew he'd been burning through Mana insanely quickly.
Every one of his defensives, at least the ones that stood the chance of keeping him alive in the face of that monster, required huge expenditure, upwards of 15-20% of his total Mana reserves. And even if his Mana stood at tens of thousands now, due to the lack of status windows, it was difficult to keep tab on it directly. As such, he'd much rather have a surplus rather than be short when a necessary spell needed casting. Because of it, he'd be drinking the potions like water throughout the fight.
The massive entourage stopped just before reaching the edge of the forest and landing on the beach. The behemoth never left their sights, even when camping miles off, but they were once again reminded of its sheer size. It towered over the world, its many eyes all closed, appearing statuesque. However, they knew that beneath that calm and seemingly immovable surface was a creature that could decimate them all if they weren't careful.
"Alright, everyone get some rest, do the last-minute tinkering, and get ready to kick some ass," Cain called out as everyone fanned out into designated groups. At the front, Cain, Quinn, and the newly-joined tank trio of Tessa, Belk, and Syna popped open one of Cain's wine bottles and began drinking. The latter three really needed to calm their nerves, it seemed, as they guzzled down the wine as though it were water.
"Scared?" Cain quizzed.
"Terrified," the trio replied honestly, in unison.
"Good. It will keep you at your toes," Cain said, taking another sip himself.
"You?"
"Scared?"
"Yeah."
"Nah."
"What a riveting conversation," Quinn rolled her eyes on the side. "Books could be written about it."
"Don't worry," Cain said, standing up and smiling. "I won't let you die."
"..." though the claim sounded insane, especially considering the kind of beast that they were about to fight, for some reason... they believed him. His voice, words, and tone held the certain kind of conviction that seemed almost immortal, unbound, living beyond the scope of the world.
He walked out and away and flew up, observing the behemoth. Soon enough, everyone else gathered into the groups--some flew like Cain, others stayed rooted to the ground. Cain glanced over his shoulder and saw dedicated eight healers that were in charge of keeping the tanks alive. The requirements were simple: eight who had the most Mana to use.
He nodded toward them and grinned, shooting them a thumbs-up before turning around and slowly channeling Mana. He was the opener--and he knew he had to go in big. Everyone's nerves were stretched to their limits and the heavy atmosphere was practically palpable. Fear and terror were beasts difficult to defeat, and if we went in with a limp and seeming terror of his own, others would see it and potentially internalize it further.
Grinning, he slammed his palms together as Mana roared from within him; above, a golden halo sprung that shone as brightly as the sun, qucikly disintegrating into millions of tiny particles, each shining with the color of starlight. The sheer quantity of Mana startled the behemoth awake as the countless eyes snapped open, all focusing on the figure that shoot ahead of everyone else.
Wings of fire blew out from behind his back as the particles of starlight coalesced into a gate-like structure. Its silver-hued doors creaked and cried out into the void, shaking the world, as they opened. An illuminating boom of light blinded the entire world for a brief flash as the silence hummed--before it all came undone.
A sword-shaped beam of light, starlight and fire-suffused, blew through the opened gates, eclipsing the sky. It was massive, far, far, far larger than even the behemoth itself. Just to use it, Cain had to spend all his Mana, in addition to ten Mana Potions in quick succession.
It didn't seem to have an end--one mile, two, three... soon, a sword over ten miles long hung lonely beneath the heavens, aiming at the now fully-awakened behemoth. It shone and breathed life, seemingly mass-dispelling all fear and terror within everyone down below.
Instead, that terror and fear were replaced by awe--eyes wandered off the giant that towered over the world and toward the tiny figure that seemed like a tiny speck in comparison. And yet, the figure stood defiant, his wings of fire blaring out, the sword above him cutting through the heavens.
Within a blink, it began to fall and cut toward the behemoth. The latter frantically began ushering tentacles, hundreds and then thousands, forth, forming a wall-like web that stretched out into countless layers, the seeming want to stop the sword from descending etched into their existence. Cain, however, pushed. And the sword obeyed.
It cut through the fabric of reality and splintered the world, its rays glistening beyond compare. It shook the heaven and the earth, and it forced the skies to bow. For a moment, the world stopped--as did the seeming cosmos.
For there, suspended in the sky, a crowned King looked down upon the world. Winds raged around him and knelt, and elements sang the desirous songs, and the world came to a screeching halt to revere. The sword seemed to cut through the laws of reality, the laws of the cosmos itself, and usher in new ones. For that moment, for that singularity, there was nothing else. Just the King and his blade.
Tentacles began to snap like strings as they met the scorching fire, from tens into hundreds by a second. The sounds were all drowned out as the whole of the world was deafened.
The 143 that elected to come and fight felt their souls reach out from their depths, and they felt their hearts stop. What they were witnessing was a sight they only ever read about in myths--in those old tales that spoke of figures that transcended the laws which bound everyone. Myths and legends used to entertain and inspire young kids into believing a dream. But they'd forgotten that dream. They'd grown old and jaded and they've realized that there were no men or women who can transcend the reality. They all stood equal on the ground, glued to the cruel and visceral reality. And then there was him.
A man they merely tolerated since he seemed to have some sort of a relationship with the primary tank. Someone they dismissed and laughed at. He stood tall and broad and incomparable. And he collapsed the sky and he undid the fabric of everything. He rewrote the laws so they would bend and bow for him and him alone. And he made the behemoth that towered the world... insignificant. The two swapped places.
One desperately and frantically tried to survive while the other remained afloat, arms crossed, looking down upon the world with the kind of indifference only afforded to the Divine. Heavens may have been blind, but they were not. In that moment, every single soul knew what they were witnessing: they were witnessing a future Divine display just how the transcendent can undo what was done, and unsuffer what was suffered.
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