Campione 06

by Flying Phoenix of Divine Mountain

  Chapter 1 - Goodbye John Pluto Smith

  Part 1

  It was nine in the morning at Los Angeles.

  Over Jack Milburn's head was the deep blue cloudless sky stretching to the far beyond.

  Reflected before his eyes was the Californian blue ocean. Venice Beach in summer was so crowded with people who came to frolic in the water that it was impossible to find peace and quiet.

  However, the expression on Jack's face was quite depressed.

  Jack worked for the Los Angeles branch of Sorcerous[1] Sacrilege Investigation (SSI), the government agency in charge of investigating and concealing all incidents pertaining to magic and supernatural phenomena.

  John Pluto Smith's death at this location happened a week ago. In front of the eyes of Jack and hundreds of ordinary citizens, he was killed.

  "One who has slain gods -- John Pluto Smith! You were truly strong, and even if all the magi in the world were gathered together, you would still prevail. However... It's too late, much too late!"

  At that time, Asherah was laughing madly in a frightening manner.

  The witch at the helm of a sorcery association -- the divine ancestor Asherah, bragged arrogantly as the victor.

  "Though our organization, [King of Flies], has met defeat many times at your hands, we continued to accumulate the essence of water and earth! Absorbing the malevolence and delusional obsessions of the ignorant masses! Now, I have finally taken form as the heretic Leviathan! Hahahahaha, can you feel the divine power overflowing from my body? My rank is now equivalent to yours, for I have become someone at the same level as a Campione -- the Heretic Serpent! Savor this well!"

  In contrast to her vile and ferocious nature, Asherah's body was tiny.

  The slender body of the beautiful young girl was lost as it began to transform and expand.

  Her arms contracted while her legs combined into one, her torso lengthened, her neck extended, a layer of scales covered her once smooth skin, and her beautiful face turned reptilian.

  In just a few tens of seconds, the witch Asherah transformed into a giant serpentine monster.

  Sweeping through Venice Beach was a demonic snake over fifty meters long. Probably the height of a twenty-story building if extended straight from head to tail, its scales were a shiny silvery-white in color, with beauty that could only be described as otherworldly grandeur.

  Facing such a monster, John Pluto Smith challenged his opponent with initiative.

  He is a veteran with a decade of shocking experiences. His opponents included fearsome sorcerers, fairies who possessed the ability to control nature, and massive demonic beasts that could easily destroy a city... He had fought and prevailed over all these formidable foes.

  Having gone through so many struggles to the death, how could he lose to a mere big snake --

  "Smith! You can't, don't go over there!"

  For some reason, Jack felt he had to stop him. Jack had been selected by the SSI for his magical aptitude, and now his instincts warned against a powerful enemy, but Smith replied:

  "Can your concerns wait, Jack? To refuse a lady's invitation to dance... That is not my style. Besides, I cannot run away from this situation."

  As usual, his voice was full of confidence, and he was wearing a black mask with a black cape.

  Held in his gloved hand was a steel-colored magic gun. Running towards his opponent as his long cape fluttered, Jack had witnessed this view of his back many times over the past year or so.

  In the past, Jack would always find him returning victorious, bragging casually:

  "Wait for the alcohol to deliver to your home in celebration of our little victory... Tonight's starry sky is particularly clear, so let us watch the same night sky from our respective locations and have a good toast!"

  John Pluto Smith was a man who acted like a perfect courtier. No matter what kind of crisis he faced, he never forgot to maintain a casual attitude. Even the friend who accompanied him through life and death situations had never seen his true face. Even having a drink with him was not allowed. Smith was a man who embodied secrecy.

  ...In the end, just as Jack's premonition foretold, that man did not return.

  In battles to the death against gods, the masked hero had always emerged victorious.

  However, the massive silvery white serpent's choice of action was to self-destruct by explosion --

  Seeming to ignite the "essence of water and earth" stored within its body, it planned to take down the hero and the area of Venice Beach along with itself. However, John Pluto Smith grabbed the giant snake tightly and pulled it into the water, using all his might to distance them from the shore. Thus, the two mortal enemies died together in the explosion.

  And just like that, the hero was dead.

  But the [King of Flies] was not disbanded, and Jack took out his cellphone.

  He dialed a certain number recorded in his phone.

  The call failed to connect... Was this a joke of fate? In the end, they had missed each other and all he could do was leave her a voice message.

  "It's been a while, Allison. It's me, Jack... Actually I wanted to tell you face to face, but there is not enough time for that. I'm sorry, I can only inform you like this --"

  Having left his farewell message, Jack hung up. Goodbye, my beloved. Goodbye, John Pluto Smith. Jack bid farewell to everyone precious to him one after another.

  Part 2

  Los Angeles. A major ethnic melting pot and important economical and industrial center.

  The capital of sin swirling with crime, the metropolis where decadence and prosperity coexisted, hidden in this chaotic city were many who dabbled in the ways of the supernatural.

  Those who sold their morality and conscience to the devil and obtained supernatural demonic powers in return --

  In other words, the sorcerers.

  The reason why they used Los Angeles as their base was due to the search for the "Angel's Remains" buried in this land, a holy relic that was thought to grant the possessor absolute magical power.

  Although the rumor was never substantiated, it was an indisputable fact that more sorcerers were gathered in this city than any other.

  Their natural enemy only emerged during the latter half of the 1990s.

  Possessing magic power surpassing any sorcerer's, he also had the ability to transform into non-human forms. The undefeated man who ran through the darkness of the night casting spells, turning himself into an invincible giant, and shooting magic bullets.

  At the beginning, he replied with answers like "John Smith" or "John Doe" whenever people asked for his name.

  Just like a pseudonym tagged on an unidentified corpse. However, to the citizens who heard his legends and witnessed his silhouette, he was named after the great ruler of the underworld.

  And so, John Pluto Smith was born.

  All sorcerers feared him; the people revered and worshiped him.

  It was three in the afternoon, in the area of Los Feliz.

  Consistent with California's dry climate, it was bright and sunny as usual.

  But Jack wasn't in the mood to take his beloved SUV out for a spin to enjoy the sunny weather. Leaving his car in the parking lot at Samantha University, he walked to the humanities faculty, his destination was the foreign languages department.

  He entered the building of a certain research facility.

  --But there was no one present.

  None of the usual students or staff were there. Presuming a "barrier" had been erected by the person he was visiting, Jack knocked on the door of his lab.

  "Hello, Jack. Unfortunately, the situation does not look positive."

  "In other words, Asherah's revival ceremony will take place tonight?"

&
nbsp; Joe West nodded in confirmation.

  A world-renowned researcher in the field of fantasy literature, he was an elderly African American, a precious benevolent mage as well as John Pluto Smith's collaborator.

  The old man who assisted the hero for the past decade currently had his entire right leg below the knee wrapped in a cast.

  "That's right. With tonight's position of the moon and the stars, as well as the flow of the spiritual ley lines... Everything is aligned for the perfect opportunity. The [King of Flies] will not miss this opportunity."

  Professor West sighed deeply.

  A benevolent mage like him was in the extreme minority in North America.

  This was because during the British colonial era, there were overt witch hunts and oppression from European Puritan immigrants, as well as treaties and resistance from local spirit worship... All sorts of dark and unsavory events have been buried in history.

  "After that, the members of [King of Flies] have not slowed their activities. That particular point has made me suspicious, to think they made preparations for this. Really, who could have expected such things!"

  Over the past week, the [King of Flies] continued their operations.

  Clearly an evil cult-like organization sustained by twisted faith and lacking in reason, one would have expected such a group to fall apart after the demise of the strong leader.

  However, the sorcerers were pursuing a strategy of conciliation or even brainwashing against the Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD) and the upper echelons of the SSI. Due to the death of their natural enemy, they were engaging in daring tactics that would have been unthinkable in the past. The situation had developed into the current state where the front line members of the organization like Jack were the only ones still fighting.

  "...But professor, how did Asherah survive that giant explosion? When even Smith who pulled her into the water died, how on earth did she live on after that suicide explosion!?"

  This past week, he had been diligently searching for the reason why the [King of Flies] did not fall apart.

  Having worked as a police officer in criminal investigations, this sort of thing was familiar to him, and he finally found some clues.

  The self-destructed divine ancestor Asherah survived, and her wound-covered body had been retrieved. Though still unconscious, she was alive and guarded by the core members of the [King of Flies]. Recently, they have occupied themselves with preparing the ritual to revive their leader.

  "...Heretic Leviathan, she is the immortal snake, one who can resurrect after death. Don't you find that unbelievable? Smith, the one who never lost, why would he go down together with his enemy this time?"

  From Professor West's worried tone of voice, Jack recalled the noble bearing he witnessed that night.

  "That snake's name is Leviathan, the horrifying sea monster feared in legends all over the world, passed down human stories as the image of the snake bringing disaster... [Gods], there are many examples of snake goddesses with the attribute of immortality. It is probably thanks to this that she survived her attempted mutual destruction with Smith."

  "An immortal goddess? Outrageous!"

  Hearing his reflexive answer, the professor calmly asked with a tired smile:

  "Do you know the reason why Smith is called the God-slayer?"

  "I thought it was just to describe his supernatural qualities, an exaggerated metaphor."

  "No, it is exactly as the description. He is a warrior who killed gods and usurped powerful authorities... That's right, he is a god killing warrior."

  Champion. The chosen warrior. King. Jack recalled these majestic titles.

  True, perhaps it was the best description for that masked hero.

  "The only one capable of standing up to a god-slayer is a god or another god-slayer. This principle is absolute. That's basically what happened with that divine ancestor Asherah, who transformed from a demon of an evil cult into the snake deity Leviathan."

  "But how could a person become a god!"

  "True, an ordinary mortal cannot, but she is no mere mortal... She's not called 'divine ancestor' for naught. Sigh, how did it come to this! What a tragedy!"

  Professor West's intellectual face showed a pained expression, sighing inexplicably. Even for someone like Jack who had little in-depth knowledge about magic, he still understood how dire the current situation was.

  "Anyway, if Asherah revives tonight, it is the end for us. I don't think that witch will let us live."

  "Probably. But to be honest, I can't agree with your proposal."

  "But we have no choice. In order to stop Asherah from reviving, the only way is to slip into the scene of the ceremony. Luckily after the battle with Smith, the [King of Flies]'s numbers have been thinned!"

  For those people like Jack and West who fought against sorcerers all this time, Asherah's revival would take away the last of their hopes.

  "Jack, don't be impulsive. Smith is not confirmed dead yet. He is a man like a phoenix. If the enemy hasn't died, then his survival is very likely!"

  "It's already been a week, if he's still alive, why didn't he contact us?"

  Jack refuted the old man's comforting words with pessimism.

  No matter how much he surpassed ordinary humans, he could not have survived that massive explosion.

  "You've lost your cool because Smith is not here. Calm down and think things through carefully."

  "Yes, that guy's death has clearly affected me, but I am calm. After pondering calmly I have concluded thus, if I want to protect everything, this is the most effective way."

  "What are you trying to protect?"

  "Yes, to protect this city, people like you, and well as everything I treasure."

  "How conceited. What could someone like you protect!"

  "I know my limits, but the man who could protect us is no longer here. However... No, precisely because of that, I have to do what I can do, even though my power is meager. I don't want to flee the responsibility that comes with knowing the current crisis situation."

  Hearing Jack's plea, Professor West could only shake his head.

  "Really... You are hopelessly stubborn, why does Smith only associate with such strange people! If this leg of mine was good, I could go with you!"

  "No way, I can't have anyone dragging me down."

  The old man's right leg in a cast, still required some time to recover.

  "I know, you fool! To be honest... I also understand that someone has to do this."

  Jack bumped fists with the old professor's extended right fist.

  The two smiled wryly. Not only John Pluto Smith, but this old man was also a rare companion and comrade. This was the moment to recognize this relationship.

  "Let me advise you, it's enough to just disrupt the ritual, I'll show you how. Do not force yourself. I have been considering recruiting another warrior of Smith's peers, though it's very irresponsible, we also have the choice of leaving things to that person."

  "A person who can match that man? How could another superhuman like that exist in this world --"

  "Of course there are, but inviting them for assistance requires some troublesome negotiations."

  Jack's protest was instantly refuted.

  "Even if he agrees to be recruited to our cause, it doesn't mean he will follow our orders obediently. He might even cause other problems, and the price for defeating our enemies could very well be the destruction of the entire city of Los Angeles -- if Smith will come back, there is no need for us to gamble on such a double-edged option."

  "Who could that be... Someone like a fallen angel or a devil king?"

  Hearing this comment, Professor West smiled lightly.

  "Your comparison is very apt. Yes, correct, they are truly the devil kings... Good, I am going to hand you the trump card now. Jack, may you be blessed by fortune."

  Fortune's blessing, this was assuredly the power most hated by the sorcerers.

  The power of fortune accumulated over th
e ages. The blessing of the fairies and the elves. That power had the ability to neutralize evil magic and curses, purifying them.

  The good fortune stockpiled by a first rate mage like West, definitely could bring tangible benefits to the receiver.

  "Use it when the ritual reaches its peak, do you have a suitable container?"

  The Professor made a glance towards his table, where stationery, books and notes were messily scattered all over.

  "A container... is that for placing the blessing?"

  "Yes, but the blessing cannot be injected into any object. It has to be something you've frequently used over the years, a rare item made by a famous craftsman, or spell focus infused with magical power... If it's not one of those types, fortune's power cannot be poured into it."

  This reminded Jack of something.

  "If that's the case, maybe this thing can be used?"

  Jack opened the briefcase in his hand, and took out a gun the color of steel--

  Seeing this, Professor West swallowed hard.

  "This gun... I thought it disappeared along with Smith."

  "It was left behind during the battle with Asherah, and I recovered it."

  The six-shot large caliber revolver. The color of blunt and heavy steel, its exterior gave a solid and resolute feeling.

  This was not an ordinary manufactured gun, but the unique magic gun forged personally for John Pluto Smith.

  "If only I was able to use this thing."

  "Impossible, this gun was forged by a dark elven metalworker living in the Astral Plane, gathering extremely rare Eorl steel. Since it was forged specifically for Smith, no one else can use it, but it would make a most appropriate container."

  Professor West took out the magic gun with great reverence, slowly stroking the body of the gun, chanting an incantation as if making a prayer.

  "Pray that good fortune follows you, Jack, what you need most is exactly unparalleled luck!"

  Leaving the research lab on his way to the parking lot, Jack met her.

  "Jack, it has been a while. What's troubling you? Why is your expression so solemn?"

  A voice filled with rationality was striking up a conversation. Jack stopped his heavy footsteps. Though he didn't have the leisure for a chat right now, he couldn't ignore the owner of this voice.