Apocalypse Tamer - Chapter 128: Man vs Vengeance
A tense silence had fallen upon Walter’s shop.
After being forced back into his human form by all the wounds he had taken, Basil gasped for breath in a pool of his own blood. His enemy only had to take a swing at him to finish him off. His health had fallen into the two digits.
Yet Brina did not deliver the coup de grâce. In fact, the valkyrie no longer registered his existence. All her attention, all of her wrath and bloodlust were now focused on the undead merchant behind the counter. She shook with such rage that she seemed unable to move anymore.
The target of her wrath remained eerily calm. A B&C board was set before him, the miniatures on it rehearsing the fateful battle Basil won against him earlier. His bodyguard Hagen immediately stepped forward with his ghastly mace and shield. He would defend his master with his unlife.
“I am torn.” Walter’s eyes set on Basil with a mix of respect and cold anger. “On one hand, this is a complete breach of the merchant-client trust. On the other hand, I do admire your audacity. I’ve never met someone half as brazen as you are, Basil.”
“You said… you would only act… if an enemy dropped into your shop…” Basil rasped, each word hurting his throat. He mustered the strength to crawl back to his knees, but that wasn’t enough to stand up. “So I brought you… your leftovers…”
Walter’s lips pursed into a thin smirk. “Clever boy.”
“Is it you… Nidhogg…” Brina raised her spear at Walter with a furious gaze. The blistering, bleeding wound on her chest did not inconvenience her at all. “At long last, I have found you.”
“You could have just booked a meeting,” Hagen quipped. “We are open even on Sundays.”
Walter lost all interest in Basil and focused on his other guest with squinting eyes. “You smell of Surtr,” he said, “but I do not think we’ve met.”
“Of course you do not remember.” Brina’s grip on her spear tightened to the point she started bleeding from her fingers. “You have destroyed so many lives, I’m sure you can hardly remember them all.”
“Yeah, we’ve heard that before,” Hagen said contemptuously. “And how did we destroy your life, Milady?”
“I am the last Valkyrie of Lord Odin.” From the way Brina spoke, she had been rehearsing this confrontation countless times in her head. “My liege, whom you murdered after burning Asgard to the ground, infected the nine realms with undeath, and substituted the gods’ order for chaos.”
Walter listened with a silent gaze and an expression of utter disinterest.
“I have watched my liege, my kingdom, my friends, my whole life burn because of you.” Brina’s spear caught fire, though the heat paled from that of her fury. “I have sold my soul to Surtr and demons. I have bled and killed, and wept, all so I could finally gain the strength to put your rotten head on a spike–”
“I am sorry,” Walter interrupted with a tone that implied he wasn’t. “But I do not remember any Odin.”
It was a pure lie—the merchant had already mentioned Odin in Basil’s presence many times—but the taunt worked. Brina chortled in outrage. “Would you be so low as to deny your crimes?”
“You misunderstand me.” Walter folded his hands together. A malicious smile stretched on his lips. “I make it a point not to let my enemies’ ghosts weigh on my peace of mind. Once they have crossed me, they no longer exist in this world. If you insist on joining the cohort of the dead, not even memories will remain of you.”
“You can forget us,” Brina replied scornfully. “But we will always come back to haunt you.”
“No, I do not think you will have that opportunity.” If Walter was afraid, he didn’t show any hint. “I can smell the stench of blood following you, Valkyrie. To reach this place, you have killed more innocents than everyone present in this room ever will.”
“Which is saying something,” Hagen mused.
“I won’t deny I have killed many, but it was always done in the service of the greater good. I feel no guilt at committing crimes in the name of the Great Work and mortal prosperity.” Walter locked eyes with Brina. “Can you say the same? Have your actions been a net gain for the multiverse? I’m sure all the people you’ve slaughtered with the Apocalypse Force had lieges and friends of their own.”
Brina’s jaw tightened. “I won’t deny my sins.”
“But you think… that they were worth committing?” Basil couldn’t help but snort in contempt. “You are… Apocalypse Force… no salvation… for the likes of you.”
Brina glared back at him. “You only came after us because Apollyon burned your home,” she said. “This… man… has done the same to mine. How are we different?”
“Simple…” Basil spat blood. “I haven’t… killed innocent people… along the way.”
Walter closed his eyes. “If you leave this shop, Valkyrie, I will forget you ever walked into it.”
Brina scoffed. “You will forget?”
“Killing you won’t benefit me in any way,” Walter replied. “It is true, yes: I have killed your master. Odin’s cause is buried along with his corpse. Whether you live or die won’t change that, so I will give you one chance to walk away. You can go rebuild your life, dedicate yourself to another god, run orphanages, become a productive member of society, whatever you want… but if you take another step…”
Walter’s eyelids snapped open, revealing two sunken black pits of darkness rather than eyes. The temperature in the room dropped to the point Basil’s breath turned to white mist. He felt something crawling on his back, something he could sense but not see.
Ruin drew near.
“You will die a gruesome death,” the merchant warned.
No. No, it wasn’t a warning, or even a boast. There was no hesitation in Walter’s voice, not even aggressiveness. From his point of view, he was only pointing out a fact. If his enemy took another step forward, she would perish. The end.
And from the way Brina flinched… She knew it too. Though Basil had failed to overcome her, she had taken a serious wound on her way to the shop. She would have to overcome Walter’s bodyguard to even reach him.
This is not right, Basil thought. When he had first walked into this shop, he had received a quest about taking on Walter. The suggested level had been over ninety-nine. She would have little to no chance, even if the stars aligned.
The Horseman of War had killed many to reach this battlefield… but she still came up short. From her somber look, she understood that very well.
Yet Brina refused to back down.
“I only see blood behind me.” The valkyrie raised her spear with grim determination. “There’s nothing for me to go back to.”
She still had to try.
Brina took a step forward with a battle roar, her weapon burning with her rage and determination. She moved faster than lightning and with more strength than a tempest.
Walter did not move an inch.
His enemy died on the spot nonetheless.
There was no sound, no spell cast, no System notification, no hint as to what happened. Brina simply collapsed onto the floor within arm’s reach of the shop’s counter. The flames surrounding her spear were snuffed out like candlelight. Her skin turned as pallid as a corpse’s as if all her blood had been drained from her in an instant. She hit the floorboard with a thumping noise, and no breath came out of her mouth.
The sight chilled Basil to the bone.
The Horseman of War, who had kicked his ass twice and nearly brought his team to ruin, perished almost instantly. Walter Tye had murdered her without any effort.
“Basil.”
Basil froze as Walter turned his empty gaze on him. His eyes were pitch-black pits of darkness from which no light escaped. He was still wearing a human face, but his mask had slipped a little.
“I will let it slide this once, but if you pull that stunt again, we are done. I won’t fight your battles for you.” Walter’s eyes returned to normal, and promptly forgot the matter to focus on his miniatures. “Now finish her off. You won’t get experience unless you land the last blow.”
The last blow? Basil glanced at the corpse in the middle of the shop and looked into its eyes.
Brina was… no, she was dead. Basil couldn’t hear a pulse or a breath. She was a corpse. Yet he detected a hint of awareness in her eyes. She remained conscious, yet trapped within herself and unable to lift a finger. Her soul refused to leave the body and had now become a prison of flesh.
What had Walter done to her?
Most frighteningly, the necromancer seemed to have washed his hands off the entire affair. He no longer paid attention to the corpse on his floor, though it was within arm’s reach of his counter. Brina’s death didn’t fill him with either satisfaction or sorrow.
Killing meant nothing to Walter Tye. Nothing.
Whereas he couldn’t care less for Brina, Walter noticed Basil’s uneasiness. “Don’t tell me you feel sorry for her.”
“It’s just…” Basil grunted. “Cold.”
“Why? Because I would rather pay attention to my friends’ well-being than my enemies’?” Walter flipped a miniature between his fingers. “I told you. You only defeat your foes for good when you forget them. Otherwise, they keep waging war on your peace of mind.”
“Like Gwen?” Hagen asked mirthfully.
A flash of annoyance passed over Walter’s face. “It is a constant struggle,” he admitted. “But I try to live by these words. Everyone should spend their life on better things than nursing grudges.”
Perhaps there was wisdom in his words, but Basil simply found them frightening. He didn’t have it in him to kill someone, even a foe, and move on with such casual detachment. It seemed… inhuman.
Forcing himself back to his feet in spite of the pain and blood, Basil grabbed Brina’s spear. His heart skipped a beat when he gazed at her last time. Her eyes reeked of despair and resignation; of deep sorrow. She had come so far, only to fail.
Basil put her out of her misery with a strike to the heart.
The light faded from Brina’s eyes, and her body caught fire soon afterward. Eldritch flames consumed her flesh from within. Only a bed of ashes and a spear remained of the mighty Horseman of War.
“Why do they never walk away?” Hagen let out a heavy sigh. “The graves are full of martyrs throwing their lives away for doomed causes. I don’t understand them. Where is the glory in this?”
“Did she…” Basil coughed. “Did she… ever have a chance?”
“No,” Hagen replied with a hammer’s bluntness. “Some mountains are too high to climb.”
“I disagree,” Walter said from behind his counter. “Nothing is impossible if one puts all their will and strength into it.”
“But is the hope of succeeding in a task reason enough to attempt it?” Hagen shrugged. “If you break your back and hands climbing a frosty mountain, boasting for five minutes about reaching the summit doesn’t sound satisfying enough to me.”
She didn’t reach her summit, Basil thought as he observed Brina’s remains. She came within sight of it and then fell off to her death.
Basil felt no remorse over the Horseman’s death—she had killed millions across countless worlds—but her demise filled him with somber gloom. He simply couldn’t muster joy when faced with such pointless futility.
“Death is always senseless, Basil,” Walter said sharply. “This is why I’m trying to solve it. Life doesn’t need to end to have meaning.”
“Do you… know it then?” Basil rasped. “Life’s meaning?”
“There is none.” Walter smiled thinly. “Which is why we must invent our own.”
Life’s meaning? Basil already had found his own.
He teleported away without a word.
His team needed him.
When Basil returned to the Parthenon, the battle was already over. Belphegor’s miasma had cleared, Ashok was dead, and there were rotting corpses everywhere.
He regrouped with his team and allies in the depth of the dungeon. The Boss room holding Kalki had long collapsed into a pile of rubble, though thankfully both Kalki and his female counterpart remained unharmed inside their forcefield. Shellgirl had managed to turn Belphegor to stone, and Ashok…
“It always saddens me to lose a life.” Plato kicked a charred husk of metal. The fire that slew Ashok had consumed half his body, leaving only a black skeleton that reminded Basil of the Terminator… and a golden sphere shining in Plato’s paws. “But this one was well-spent!”
“Everyone, let me heal you.” Rosemarine, who was still half-buried under rocks, swiftly showered everyone with her healing magic. “Hera’s Grace!”
Her ability closed Basil’s wounds and let him taste something else than his own blood in his mouth, but the purple patches left by Belphegor’s miasma marred his skin. Though his party healed too, all of them showed the same stigmata.
You could not recover your lost max HP!
“Mmm…” Vasi’s father examined his daughter’s skin. “I could reset you back to your prime, darling.”
“I can think of a quicker alternative.” Vasi pointed her staff at Belphegor’s petrified form. Though the Horseman of Death would no longer cheat death in this state, he remained ‘alive’ in his prison of stone nonetheless. “Handsome, we’ll need you.”
Basil summoned his halberd back to his hand and struck a fatal blow. Mortifère sliced Belphegor in half in a single swing. The Horseman’s remains shattered into ghostly ectoplasm, only to be swiftly absorbed into the blade that fell him. The halberd consumed Belphegor’s essence and ensured that he would no longer trouble the multiverse.
Immediately afterward, the stigmata left behind by his miasma dissipated. Vasi’s skin became as pristine as ever, as did Basil’s.
Belphegor’s curse has been lifted. You have regained your lost Max HP!
A System notification swiftly confirmed that the battle was indeed won.
Congratulations, you have won your hardest battle yet! Your party has earned 119,000,000 EXP and 59,900,000 Bonus EXP from the Incursion event (29,950,000 for you). You have gained eight levels (total 85).
Plato can now undergo his divine metamorphosis!
The hardest battle yet? Basil couldn’t help but smile bitterly at these words. Though the third Incursion was finally about to end, yet it was but an appetizer for the final one. Their troubles had only begun.
At least the System showered them with rewards this time.
By wiping out the Horsemen of the Apocalypse and Dismaker Labs’ board, including Anton Maxwell, you have completed the [Apocalypse Not] and [Flipping the Board!] Main Quests. Your party has gained 48,000,000 Quest EXP (8,000,000 for you), the [Holy Grail] artifact, and the [God Card] consumable! You have gained two levels (total 87).
“Anton Maxwell included?” Basil squinted in skepticism. “There’s no way he’s dead.”
“The original Quest said we had to defeat him, not kill him,” Vasi pointed out. “Which we technically did.”
Truly? Basil remained skeptical. Or perhaps they did kill him according to the System’s rules; it just wouldn’t stick. I can’t shake the feeling we’ve played right into his hands, somehow.
A white paper card materialized in Basil’s hand. It resembled a normal collectible, except made of some kind of crystal and translucent. He didn’t pay much attention to it. Instead, his eyes set on the second reward, which Shellgirl promptly grabbed as soon as it appeared: a simple yet magnificent cup of solid gold. Though the artifact lacked ornaments or decorations, it radiated a soothing magical aura. Simeon joined his hands in prayer at the sight, as did Basil.
God Card
Family: Consumable.
Quality: S.
Effect: When used, the card can summon a deity whose true name the user knows; if they agree to answer, the entity will temporarily manifest an avatar that will remain active for three minutes before disappearing. This item cannot be duplicated nor reused. If the deity refuses the call, the God Card is wasted; the deity is not under the caller’s control either.
Some said it was crafted in Ancient Egypt, others in a Japanese manga shop. Whatever the case, this item truly holds the heart of the cards.
Holy Grail
Family: Idol.
Quality: S.
Effect: When placed in an individual’s inventory, the Holy Grail will protect them from death once. If the user expires, the Holy Grail will instead revive them at full HP and SP, while also enhancing their stats for three minutes. The Holy Grail will vanish afterward.
The legendary Holy Grail, whose power the Four Horsemen once sealed. This holy artifact holds the power to ward away even death, though only once.
Basil couldn’t tell if it was indeed the true Grail or a copy made by the System, but it warranted his respect either way.
“Pfft…” Braniño scoffed in disdain. “Father’s cup looks better.”
“I like it,” Shellgirl said before using her gloves to duplicate it. “Agh, I can’t store the copy in my inventory!”
“Can you copy the Essence of Zeus?” Bugsy asked. “I doubt it’ll work, but it doesn’t hurt to try.”
“The shiny’s mine.” Plato kept the essence close to his chest. “I lost a life for it!”
“I’m… I’m so glad everyone here made it in one piece.” Basil sighed in disbelief. All the tensions of the battle fell on him like the weight of a world. “I… it was a close call.”
“It was,” Vasi agreed with a sharp nod. “You know, we offered Belphegor a chance to surrender. Instead, he renewed his miasma while cursing us. He believed that Brina would kill you to the bitter end.”
Had the Horseman of War already been slain when Belphegor pulled that off? The timeline of the battle remained elusive to Basil. In the end, though, the Horseman of Death had guessed correctly: Basil failed to defeat his teammate on his own. That gamble with Walter could have easily backfired.
“His trust wasn’t misplaced,” Basil admitted. “If I had been too slow on the draw, or if Plato hadn’t managed to kill Ashok just in time, she would have killed me. ”
“Many fell today, not just our enemies,” Simeon admitted. “Ninety percent of the troops we sent into the dungeon, except for the monsters you shielded with Death’s Banner, were slain by the miasma.”
“On the good side, our enemies suffered a one-hundred percent fatality rate,” Braniño mused. “A costly victory, but one nonetheless.”
Vasi turned to look at the captive Avatars. Now that the dungeon belonged to them, nothing prevented the alliance from removing the forcefields keeping them imprisoned.
“What do we do with these two?” she asked.
Basil clenched his jaw. Though his girlfriend’s question sounded innocent enough, he knew there was another hidden underneath.
What do we do with the world?
And he had no answer to this one.