Page 8 of Defiance of the Fall 14: A LitRPG Adventure

8

IMPERIAL ENVOY

The unfamiliar, monotonous voice and the dense stench of blood permeating the room were enough to ignite a fire in Zac’s chest. Seeing a bloodied Emily turned those smoldering flames into a blazing inferno. Cascading waves of power coursed through his reforged body, and any lingering sense of exhaustion was swept away.

“Welcome, Imperial Envoy!” Emily’s shaky, unexpected form of address made Zac stop in place and take in the situation properly.

The room smelling like a torture chamber was a canteen. Dozens of metallic tables were soldered to the ground, and Zac believed the dusty scraps in one corner were the remnants of a lounge area.

On the opposite side was a semi-open back room resembling an ancient industrial kitchen. The stench didn’t come from Emily, rather from five utterly destroyed corpses to the side. Their heads were disintegrated, leaving nothing behind but a scorched neck. Their attacker also hadn’t been satisfied with such a clean end. Someone had cut and torn into their corpses until only piles of flesh and broken bones remained.

The scene was so gruesome even Zac grimaced. This wasn’t the work of a warrior. Only a lunatic would go so far, and this lunatic was holding his disciple hostage.

Emily was sitting at one of the tables, her face pale from blood loss. Zac’s heart ached upon seeing the many lacerations across her body. One, in particular, had almost cut her left arm clean off. Thankfully, her aura was still stable, if significantly weakened. Her Cosmic Core shouldn’t be damaged. She would recover with rest and medicine.

The fact she didn’t dare move despite his appearance was incredibly alarming. He forcibly calmed down, knowing the wrong move might trigger another tragedy like the six presumed Technocrats.

Despite Emily’s obvious duress, it looked like she was attending a dinner party. The table was richly decorated and set for five people. Food had already been served, and Zac’s eyes widened in horror upon realizing what had been put on the plates. Pieces of Technocrat. Four of the chairs were occupied, while the place at the head of the table was left open.

Was it for him?

“Join us, Lord Envoy,” Emily entreated.

Emily nodded at him to play along, so Zac slowly approached while inspecting the other dinner guests. Two were puppets who were familiar and incredibly confusing. They seemed to be the D-grade sparring puppets used in the Atwood Army. Their facial features had been altered to bear a striking resemblance to himself and Joanna.

They were badly mutilated, yet Zac felt a vague threat emanating from them. Normally, his unexpected doppelganger would be Zac’s main point of focus, but that mystery paled in the face of the final guest at the table.

Zac expected Emily’s captor to be a Technocrat or possibly an Imperial. He was way off. The lunatic who desecrated the Technocrat corpses was another puppet, one of ancient make. It was this automaton who greeted him when he opened the door, and it was now staring at him while holding a mottled knife.

It appeared to be made from a reddish alloy, it was hard to discern beneath the coatings of blood and viscera. Zac’s instincts still told him to destroy the butcher puppet with a swing of his axe, but he held himself back upon seeing the frantic look in Emily’s eyes.

“Imperial Envoy?” the puppet muttered, its voice rising with intensity. “Imperial… Imperial… Where…?”

Emily’s eyes widened in alarm, and Zac paled in fright upon feeling a familiar pressure. The door behind him banged shut as immense weight was imposed on his body. The feeling was the same as in the fake town. No, the pressure was even greater as it was limited to a much smaller room.

“General, time is limited! We need to discuss the mission!”

This puppet was a general? Zac inwardly shook his head. There was simply no way. The puppet was the equivalent of an Early D-grade cultivator at best, barely enough to be considered a soldier in a fortress of this grade. The only threat it posed was its apparent connection to the fortress defenses.

Judging by their location, the knife, and the gruesome banquet, its real identity was clear. They were dealing with a cooking golem.

Clearly, the golem was suffering from the same mental illness as Brazla, where it had lost grip of its real identity. This chef was in a far worse state than the Tool Spirit of Zac’s Dao Repository. The golem’s spirituality had to be on the verge of total breakdown for it to act in such an unhinged manner.

It looked like the golem considered Emily’s words, and it slowly nodded. Zac almost threw caution to the wind when its arm turned into a blur. An erratic flurry of slashes left a new set of wounds on the Joanna puppet. Thankfully, the mechanical chef and the room’s arrays calmed down soon after. Zac gradually relaxed, though his pent-up anger only grew.

He’d been telling himself Emily’s miserable state was mainly caused by crossing the dimensional storm to not explode from rage. It was getting very difficult to hold onto those beliefs. No wonder she’d placed durable training puppets beside and opposite the malfunctioning chef. They might have saved her life by taking the brunt of its outbursts.

Zac would have to be a fool not to understand Emily’s plan. She had given him a lofty identity, and he needed to use that to get out without triggering the tower’s defenses. He chose to trust her. For her to act this way despite his ability to destroy the automaton meant there was more at play. Of course, if things went south, he’d have to go all out and pray his token could deal with the fallout.

“I am the Imperial Envoy,” Zac said, trying to give the imposing air of a dignitary as he sat down. “Identify yourself.”

“Yes… Protocol…” the puppet drawled. “I am Sibel Urnovok, general of the Sixth Centurion Lighthouse of the Starfall Phalanx. Thank you for responding to my call.”

Zac’s eyes lit up at the chef’s words. He’d never heard of the Starfall Phalanx, though it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. A massive war had been waged to prevent the erection of the Eight Pillars. Each Outer Court defended one direction, controlling armies that dwarfed anything happening in Zecia. This Peak C-grade fortress was likely a subsidiary of the Starfall Court, though Zac had no idea why the golem called it a lighthouse.

Although it might be nonsense conjured by a damaged spirit, Zac doubted it. After all, he’d actually seen the name Sibel Urnovok in the ledgers he found earlier. Even if insane, the chef remembered some real details of the fortress. Perhaps it could clarify some things that had bothered him until now.

“It’s my duty. The Empire would never abandon its defenders,” Zac said. “On that note, where are your men? No one came to greet me when I arrived.”

“A-A?—”

“The attack,” Emily interjected, prompting the chef to calm down before it went berserk again.

“Yes. Attack. We lost contact with the Empire during our mission. I tried to contact—ah… I did? No.”

“I’m sorry, we didn’t receive the call. It must have been intercepted,” Zac said. “Go on.”

“Yes… Blocked. No signal. Stranded. We thought the Selvari found out about our mission. About the project.”

“What proj—” Zac said, quickly cutting his words short when Emily shook her head in panic. “Ahem. What happened next?”

“Betrayal!” the puppet roared, unleashing a wild barrage with his knife.

The puppets received the brunt of it, and not even Zac was spared. Bleeding gashes were opened across his chest and left arm. He didn’t so much as blink. The chef knife might have once been a D-grade tool. Now its edge had been eroded by time and excessive use. The puppet barely broke his skin, and the wounds closed in no time.

What was more disturbing was that the puppet had leaned forward, its face suddenly inches away from Zac’s.

“Welcome, faraway guest. Our chefs have prepared a banquet in your honor!”

“Thank you, General, but I’d like to finish the briefing,” Zac said, working hard to maintain a steady gaze. “The Empire is facing enemies in every direction. There’s no time to waste.”

“Tell Lord Envoy about the man with the sword,” Emily said.

“The sword,” the puppet muttered as it leaned back. “The sword… Intent. Treasonous natives! The colonies dare bite the hand that feeds it! Ah—all gone.”

“The traitor will be dealt with,” Zac said. “Did the traitors take your people away?”

“A great pressure, and the room twisted. The guests disappeared, even taking master—ah? Who?”

“What happened next?” Zac pushed.

“I… Flashes of darkness… Gods hiding between the cracks. Watching… Watching.”

Zac frowned. He’d been able to keep up with the puppet until now, but it was getting harder. The Sixth Centurion Lighthouse should have lost contact with the Empire because of the System’s activation, and the Autarch of a conquered region attacked them out of anger. What happened next? It sounded like the puppet was describing its real memories at that point.

It had been working in the canteen when the Autarch struck. However, great pressure and the room twisting didn’t match with the sword scar or its killing intent. It rather sounded like the Autarch’s attack had been powerful enough to tear a hole in space, and the whole fortress was thrown into the Void. So what the hell were flashes of darkness and the hiding Gods?

“Was it Selvari who took the people?” Zac asked. “Did you see the Dao of Technology?”

“All lost… I’m… I’m General Sibel Urnovok… Yes. I am a Half-step Celestial. I must have overcome?—”

“You resisted the abduction and were badly wounded,” Emily said with a soothing voice. “You have a plan. A plan that needs Lord Envoy’s help?”

“Yes! Traitors… Selvari… All eye my fort. Everyone knows it’s not ready, but the cracks…” the puppet said, looking at Zac with eerie solemnity like it had really become the general. “I request Lord Envoy to work with the others and activate the beacon. Call them from the depths, and we’ll destroy our enemy!”

“I—” Zac wavered, wanting more information, if it weren’t for his instincts telling him it was time to go. Something was happening inside the puppet. It had grown too agitated, prompting its arrays to go into overdrive. “On behalf of the Empire, I agree. The fortress is damaged, and I need to survey the situation before we strike back at our enemies.”

“I shall assist you,” the puppet said, accentuating his statement by cutting off the head of the Zac puppet.

“Thank you, General, but this is an important matter. We can’t allow any mistakes, and your talents are better used elsewhere. Why don’t you return to your place of work and finalize our attack plan? We will deal with the minor matters on our end,” Zac said, exuding confidence as he pointed at the kitchen in the back.

The silence was nerve-wracking. The puppet’s eyes flickered ominously, making Zac wonder if he’d pushed things too far. Then the automaton turned toward the kitchen.

“Yes. My… domain. I will return.”

The puppet got to its feet and stumbled toward the kitchen as though it was drunk. “…in the cracks… in the cracks…”

Zac nodded at Emily, and the two appeared right by the door. Zac flashed his token, and the two were halfway down the corridor before the gates had fully swung open. They only stopped after putting a floor and dozens of corridors between them. Zac still felt unsafe and kept scanning the surroundings in case the general picked up their scent.

Two arms wrapped around him, stopping his hasty retreat. “You really came.”

“Of course,” Zac said. “Are you okay?”

Emily only let go after half a minute. Her face was still pallid from accumulated stress and terror. Zac was surprised she was keeping it together at all. His nerves felt like they were on fire after staying a few minutes in that canteen. Emily had been stuck there for hours.

“Thank God you came when you did. That lunatic went crazy every time I rejected his ‘food,’ and I was running out of ways to distract him. Any later, and I’d either have to become a cannibal or get turned into dinner. Not sure I’ll ever be able to eat again.”

“Will it follow us?” Zac asked, warily looking at the way they came from.

“I don’t think so. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it has already forgotten about us. Its short-term memory seemed to be non-existent. I kept having the same conversations over and over.”

“Crumbled spirit. The price of longevity,” Zac said.

“Should’ve had the decency to get abducted with all the others,” Emily muttered as she inspected the hallway. “Wait, where’s Ra’Klid? He’s not…?”

“He’s fine. It would have been too dangerous for him to enter this place so we split up. You’ve been held hostage since you came here?”

“Not exactly,” Emily said. “After I jumped into the scar, everything was chaos. I thought I was going to die when I suddenly saw this place appear out of nowhere. I jumped inside and ended up trapped in that house of horror.”

“Appear out of nowhere?”

“It was weird; almost looked like a mirror whose frame was made from an odd energy circuit. It looked like the energy was growing the gateway. It was already large enough for me to squeeze inside so I did.”

Zac thoughtfully nodded. Emily had encountered a stroke of good fortune by finding a Technocrat pathway. It let her bypass most of the storm, though it exposed her to another form of danger.

“There was nothing here when I arrived, and I couldn’t contact you or Ra’Klid. So I tried to get out by blowing up the door. Very bad idea. The door almost killed me, and it made the puppet appear.”

“The puppet came from the outside?” Zac asked with a frown.

“No, it came from the kitchen, knife swinging. Shouted about invaders and the glory of the Empire, waking the whole room up. Weirdly enough, I had already searched the whole place. Not sure how I could have missed it.”

“I found some fake walls before. It might have been inside one of those. What about the corpses?”

“They arrived at that exact moment, poor bastards,” Emily said with a shudder. “I shouted at them not to do anything stupid. They didn’t listen and attacked the ‘general.’ Some energy guard rose from the ground and blocked their skills before removing their heads. Actually, those people saved my life by targeting me too. The puppet considered me a friend because of it. It asked me if I came bearing news from the Empire. I didn’t want to have my head blown up, so I said yes.”

Zac could guess how things went from there. The schizophrenic golem had tried to fulfill both its roles, leading to the macabre dinner-turned-interrogation.

“I know they attacked me, but I feel bad leaving them like that. They were our people. They probably thought I was a cultist.”

“Don’t feel too bad,” Zac said. “They were Technocrats, not real alliance Hegemons.”

“Technocrats?” Emily said with a look of utter confusion. “What’s going on?”

“A lot,” Zac said before going over his experiences since they split up.

“So that scheming guy finally got his seal.” Emily grinned. “Guess he won’t have to skulk the corridors any longer.”

Zac laughed, remembering Ogras’ stories of his trip to the Million Gates Territory. Ra’Klid was no fool, and he’d quickly realized there was more to their expedition than just getting some early war contribution. He’d tried various methods to figure out what the others were up to; fate hadn’t been on his side. Those efforts had only intensified after the rumors and bounties popped up.

“Well, it’s good he got one, and you needed a second Reignender anyway,” Emily said before her face sobered. “So those people were Technocrats. I know they’re technically unorthodox cultivators, I just didn’t expect them to join up with a faction like the Kan’Tanu. Well, it shouldn’t be too bad, right? There’s no way the System will let them officially join the war. Those imperials sound like the bigger threat.”

“We can’t underestimate the Technocrats, even if those we’ve encountered so far haven’t been very impressive,” Zac said. “The Imperial Clans are powerful, but they’re bound by the System’s rules. They have limited manpower, and their elders will restrain themselves because of the trial.”

“I guess.” Emily thoughtfully nodded before her eyes widened. “Wait, how did they even get here? Aren’t the outsiders blocked from entering as they want? That means?—”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” Zac sighed. “The System would never let Technocrats through Zecia’s blockade, yet they’re still here. They must have figured out a way to sneak into Zecia unnoticed.”

“Probably through the Eternal Storm,” Emily agreed. “And that means they might not be limited in manpower like the other outsiders. They’ll be shooting themselves in the foot if their target is the Left Imperial Palace. All those powerful factions can’t be wrong about using limited force to seize the inheritance.”

“Who knows if they’re even after the inheritance? And if they are, they might just try to snatch it from the winner’s hands,” Zac said. “I’m more worried about what their goal is with the fortress. I never understood why they would care about this crumbling piece of ancient history, but after listening to the robot…”

“The project!” Emily exclaimed.

“Exactly,” Zac said. “They’re not here to seize the fortress. They’re after its secrets.”