Reborn: Apocalypse (Volume 3): (A LitRPG/Wuxia Story)

by L. M. Kerr

  The Fast Retreat Ability was certainly a very useful Ability, but it did have one rather notable weakness.

  The Ability could be used to dip and dive around the field of combat, shifting through space…

  But, like many other Abilities, it was dependent on the Soul, and thus the Soul stat, of its user. The Ability would only work as long as the user did not resist it, and the number of times one could shift through reality was dependent on one’s Soul stat.

  All three of the warriors had immediately activated their Fast Retreat Ability, attempting to flee.

  However… through the titanium threads, and the Sword Energy that linked them to Micheal, Micheal had formed a connection with each of these three warriors. It wasn’t a permanent one, only enough to last for a few moments while they were entangled in his metal strings…

  But it was enough.

  They all tried to teleport through space and flee and, as a result, came face to face with Micheal’s Soul.

  Like using a loaf of bread to try and break down a castle wall, each attempt to flee failed miserably, leaving the warriors unable to break through Micheal’s defense.

  Their Fast Retreat Ability, in light of this, shut down.

  The distorted space began to settle.

  And, as reality returned to normal...

  Micheal clenched his fists.

  .

  —-Points Notification—-

  Points Obtained: 29,307

  .

  —-Points Notification—-

  Points Obtained: 28,565

  .

  —-Points Notification—-

  Points Obtained: 30,089

  .

  Three thuds echoed out as the bodies of the last standing Squad of the Ape Division fell to the ground, eviscerated as Micheal shot down their attempts to flee. Unlike with the Squad on the roof, Micheal was not hit with any type of noticeable backlash, only a stint of exhaustion from the extended battles he had been fighting.

  His Energized Physique did its best to offset that as he retracted his titanium threads and stored his sword, studying the remnants of the now-dead warriors. He pulled out his Cloud Stepping Shoes now, as well as the gold bracelet he had stored in his Spatial Ring, putting both on.

  His eyes drifted over to the warehouse that concealed the hidden Farian research site, the Artifacts that were still blocking out all types of signals, the black Seeds that began to rise from the dead bodies of those around him…

  And finally, his gaze settled on the lone warrior that was still alive.

  The Great Ape user that had both of his arms broken and was blasted away, back near the beginning of this battle. The warrior was terribly wounded and had been knocked unconscious, but was still alive, his resilient body hanging on by a thread.

  Micheal’s eyes gleamed as he took everything in and made a decision.

  It was time to enact the final part of his plan to save Myla Hannis and stop the Great Disaster.

  But first…

  It was time to tie up a few loose ends.

  .

  Chapter 50

  The inside of the Farians’ hidden research center was a mess.

  Once-pristine walls, carefully tiled floors and well-lit hallways, were now a maze of chaos. Huge gashes leaking dirt and dust, shards of stone jutting from the ground, crackling energy that echoed in the walls. Smoke drifted in the air, carrying a harsh tang that stuck to the tongue.

  The underground research center had transformed into a set of ruins, where already more than 90% of the facility had been damaged or destroyed.

  The sole surviving area that remained unscathed was located in the deepest part of the hidden lab, a place the Farians on-site affectionately called ‘The Shield Room.'

  This room was an area purposefully designed as a safehouse, should there, somehow, be a breach by some enemy force. The Lord Justiciar had insisted on this measure, refusing to allow the research center to be built otherwise.

  It wasn’t a large room, but it was, as its name implied, well shielded. The room stretched about a dozen or so meters wide, and half a dozen meters long. Its walls were made out of enchanted Bloodstone, imbued with energy to protect it from all kinds of attacks.

  Myla Hannis was now regretting not encouraging even more stringent defenses as she, and what was left of her research team, huddled within the room, listening to the echoes of battle that were taking place just outside it. Several glowing white crystals lit the air above, giving light to troubled faces.

  “Serena, is the Record Book ready?” The elderly Farian took command of the situation as she focused on a young woman that was sitting just a half meter away.

  This Farian, a young adult, had long brown hair that complemented her lean, tanned physique. Her face was dotted with freckles, an equally uncommon feature as her tan, for a Farian. She wore a plain brown smock over a set of black leather pants and a white shirt, an unassuming outfit.

  “Yes, Wise Lady, it’s just about fully prepped.” Serena’s voice echoed almost musically as she stared intently at a slim book she was holding in her lap, using Myla’s formal Tribal title. The young Farian kept at her work, ignoring the air of danger as she remained focused.

  This book had no writings on its pages. Instead, when it was opened, faint particles of blue and red light rose from its pages, wavering mysteriously in the air.

  It was an Artifact that had been constructed using knowledge gained here on the Second Layer in combination with certain types of Farian Bloodline Magic. It was a magical tool that allowed the passing and storage of information, based around the Second Layer concept of an ‘Inheritance.’

  Myla found it to be an incredibly handy Artifact, a way to ensure that, even if she perished and her lab was destroyed, the vast stores of data, research, notes, and magical observations she, and the rest of her team, had made, would persevere.

  It wasn’t as simple as a data recording. It magically noted down sensations, feelings, and exact energy manipulations, allowing an almost direct transfer of experience and knowledge.

  The downside to its use, however, was that only a single person could accept the transfer.

  There were ways around this, like having people store information multiple times, but it was a strenuous process that was difficult and hard on anyone trying it. So far, only Myla, her favored aide Serena, and a couple of retired and current Chief Researchers were able to use the Record Book to its fullest extent.

  The Shield Room began to shake, creaks and groans echoing out. The sounds of battle outside yet continued, but it was clear now that their small fortress was directly under attack. The glowing crystals above shook, trembling as impact after impact hit the walls of their guarded enclave.

  “Aaron, is there still no response from the Safe-Haven Beacon?” Myla’s voice was cool as she turned to look at one of her leading researchers.

  Chief Researcher Aaron Andrus, an elderly Farian and one of only three active Chief Researchers that worked at the base, sighed. He had a heavily lined face and a keenly frail body, but eyes that were filled with youthful determination. He, and a couple of other Farians, were currently standing and looking at a large, metal antenna that had been installed directly into the Shield Room.

  This particular device had a large, square base made of black metal that carried several glowing symbols around it. Rising up from this sturdy base was a meter-and-a-half-tall pillar of white metal, covered with various levers and dials, an odd creation that abandoned any attempt at fashion for pure function. The symbols on its base were flashing purple as of right now, indicating an unknown failure.

  “Nothing, Wise Lady.” The older scientist shook his head sharply as he manipulated the device. He then turned to two of his younger assistants,

  “Kenneth, try adjusting the fulcrum of force. Stiles, keep attenuating the imboldars. If we can figure out a way to send the signal through the earth, we may be able to bypass whatever is blocking our attempts.” The elderly Farian issued
several more orders, his focus returning to his task.

  Myla’s eyes fluttered as another explosion rocked the air. She slightly bit her lip, her gaze hardening as if she had made a tough decision.

  “Serena, begin Full Absorption as soon as possible, following the Dancing Fairy protocol.” Myla’s gaze cut back, staring at her young apprentice.

  Serena did a double-take, looking up from the Record Book as her teacher.

  “Full Absorption?! But the Tribes… A Kowalsi can’t… Wise Lady, without approval…” For the first time, a hint of unsteadiness appeared in Serena’s eyes, her collected demeanor shifting ever so slightly.

  After a moment, Serena purposefully turned to look at Chief Researcher Aaron.

  The Chief Researcher seemed to sense her gaze as he looked up from his work and shook his head.

  “Don’t look at me, little lady. My body couldn’t bear the transfer.” The elderly Farian waved his thin hands and then immediately turned back to attempting to activate the Safe-Haven Beacon.

  “No one else here can accept a Full Absorption, Serena, except you. Everything we know must carry on, should the worst come to pass.” Myla took a step forward and knelt down, placing her hands on the young Farians shoulders.

  “Tribal Law can be overridden in cases of ultimate disaster, per Section 12.2A of the Inter-Tribal Governing Treaty. As of right now, I am enacting the Disaster Clause.” Myla’s voice brooked no argument as she went on,

  “Am I understood?”

  “Yes, Wise Lady.” Serena ducked her head, her calm demeanor returning as her hesitation vanished. The young Farian’s gaze shifted back to the Record Book in her lap. She eyed it intently, clutching it tight in her hands.

  A few seconds later, the book began to glow, a dim white light that began to pick up in intensity. At the same time, Serena’s eyes glowed back, white light fluttering out from them.

  Myla smiled slightly as she saw this, her heart settling as she stood back up. Her thoughts were oddly calm as she looked at her favored disciple, a feeling of peace seeming to wash over her.

  A moment later…

  Several loud explosions of force shook the air, raising a wave of dark looks from half of the remaining Farians inside the Shield Room. The other half were busy focusing on various tasks, doing their best to help as much as possible. Myla turned to look at the front door of the Shield Room, her lips pursed.

  “Ruben.” She called out to one of the free Farians, a middle-aged male that was leaning on the wall not far from the entrance, dressed in a set of long grey robes indicating he was a mid-level scientist. This Farian’s eyes were cool, though his fierce frown betrayed the anger in his heart.

  The moment Myla called his name, the man perked up, looking over at her.

  “Prepare the door. I’m going to join Captain Tanin and the Guard. Shut it tightly as soon as I leave.” A rich, bloody Aura began to envelop Myla, pulsating light surrounding the Farian as she took a step forward.

  “Wise Lady! You mustn’t-”

  “The danger is too much-”

  “You can’t-”

  A deluge of protests spread out from the other Farians as she said this, the rest of the researchers instantly objecting.

  “Ensure that Serena completes the Record Transfer. Andrus, keep working on that Beacon.” Myla cut them off, trailing her eyes over the rest of the members of her research team.

  She saw tired faces, men and women that were not only mentally exhausted, but also physically. They had all been working tirelessly in the run-up to the Life Festival, trying to get the results the Lord Justiciar needed as quickly as possible. These were her most loyal allies, workers that had studied or been with her for years, some even longer.

  In their eyes, she saw anger.

  She saw outrage.

  She saw confusion.

  She saw resolve.

  In none of those faces did she find even a hint of fear.

  Myla donned a grim smile, a steely gaze finding its way to her face.

  “I will hold out as long as I can. If all else fails, I have one final assignment for all of you.” Her voice swelled as she took several steps forward, filling the air with a sense of grandeur as she reached the entrance.

  Every eye was on her, the other Farians pausing in their work as they looked up. They gazed at her with a mix of adoration, worship, and determination, none daring to turn away. Unsteady hands grew steady, trembling hands grew calm; even the faintest hints of anxiousness seemed to vanish when she spoke.

  “Serena must make it out alive. Protect her.” Her voice seemed to physically boom as she tapped on the glowing door, words that resonated with every Farian present, save Serena, who was still caught up activating the Record Book.

  As the Wise Lady continued, the explosions that had been rocking the Shield Room paused, seemingly vanishing. Myla didn’t let that affect her decision, well aware that their attackers were likely working on some other scheme to break in.

  “Our efforts cannot go to waste. Am I understood?” She turned around one last time, taking a good, final look at everyone present.

  “Yes, Wise Lady!”

  “Understood, Wise Lady!”

  “We will do as you command, Wise Lady!”

  She received a chorus of undivided support back from every single Farian present, passion practically filling the air to an almost fanatic degree. Faces grew flushed as fists clenched, a team united as one.

  Myla nodded slowly.

  She turned around, facing the doorway once more. As she did, the Blood Aura around her grew denser, covering her in waves of red light.

  This light began to condense, glowing white symbols appearing around her head. Faintly, the image of a large, majestic bird with wings of fire began to shimmer into existence.

  Myla Hannis, the Wise Lady of the Farian Tribes, known far and wide as the Red Phoenix in her youth, took one final breath. Relentless courage filled her eyes, a steady force of will heavier than that of a mountain.

  She exhaled.

  “Now!”

  The door opened.

  Myla’s body transformed into a blur as she flew outside of the Shield Room, her agile movements belying her advanced age.

  The door closed.

  Myla raised her hands as she landed on a cracked tile floor, balls of dangerous red fire appearing above each of her fingers. The faint image of a Phoenix behind her head grew stronger as she activated the full extent of her Bloodline Magic, covering herself in a layer of flames and-

  Stumbled to an abrupt halt, blinked confusedly at what was before her.

  The ever-burning Phoenix Fire she had summoned fizzled quietly in the air as she stood transfixed, her eyes flicking from left to right.

  “Uh? Huh?” The revered Wise Lady of the Farian Tribes stuttered incomprehensibly, unable to understand what she was looking at.

  At first, everything looked as she had expected it. The room that neighbored the Shield Room was the Balance Room, the largest room in her large hidden research lab. It was shaped like a half bubble, spread more than 30 meters in diameter. The room was used for testing erratic combinations of Blood Magic or anything remotely dangerous, a mostly empty testing room with thick walls.

  The floor of this room was cratered, covered in large cracks and huge holes. The durable walls looked to be barely holding together, scorched and scarred by the signs of a fierce battle. Dirt and dust floated in the air, giving the room a murky atmosphere.

  However… Instead of wading into the midst of that battle when she arrived…

  She found herself in the midst of a bunch of warriors flopping about in a drunken stupor.

  The cloaked figures of elite warriors from the Shadow Guard switched between flailing on the ground and clambering to their feet, only to resume flailing and fall again. Many of these warriors simply lay on the floor in rather sad heaps, either unconscious, dead, or too drunk to care.

  Shadow Captain Tanin, one of the deadliest warriors am
ong the entire Farian Race, stood at the center of the room, his legs trembling like jelly as he held his hands out unsteadily, as if he was only standing through sheer determination alone. A rich Blood Aura wavered around the Shadow Captain, the faint image of an ancient tree resonating ineffectually around him.

  On the floor just a meter and a half in front of the pale-faced Shadow Captain was a large cocoon of silver energy, emanating light. A lighter silver Aura engrossed this cocoon, as well as a pair of hammers that had fallen to the floor next to it.

  Myla was struck dumb, her jaw dropping as she took this all in.

  “Oh, hey.” Before she could do anything else, she heard a voice call out to her. The Wise Lady instantly went on guard, her Phoenix Flames crackling as she looked towards the speaker.

  A green-cloaked male, either a Gemless Byren or a Human, judging by his face, had just emerged from the main entrance to the Balance Room, walking in casually with his hands in his pockets.

  His words were spoken clearly in Farnese, the Farian Language. She wasn’t able to clearly pick out the movement of his lips from this distance thanks to the dust-clouded air, but guessed he was a Human, based on his words alone. Few Byrens could speak Farnese with such fluidity.

  This figure gave her a friendly wave with his left hand, completely ignoring the tension of the situation as he went on,

  “Nice timing!”

  .

  Chapter 51

  .. .. .. .. .. ..

  Briefly before this…

  .. .. .. .. .. ..

  Micheal stood in front of the ripped-open entrance to the Farian secret research base, looking into its dark depths with a slight frown.

  He didn’t like this.

  While he was certain that he had handled all the nearby subordinates of the Celestial Silverback user, that didn’t mean he could travel forth without caution. He wasn’t worried about running into any traps — it was rather unlikely the warrior would’ve left anything like that — but about being detected.