Machina Arcanis: Two Worlds Collided-Chapter 253. Corrupted

253. Corrupted

Bodies, crumbling to ash, piled up around him. Ferrous rocks, shards of armour, and debris floated suspended in the air.

An instantaneous electric arc snapped and crackled through the haze.

Zetius struck down his foes, but for every one that fell, another rose to take its place.

Hot steam gusted with every breath he took. His fingers were permanently clenched around the handle of his blade, each slash sending a jarring impact through his nerves.

Ultraviolet light crackled, lashing into the burnt soil and the crisp corpses of his enemies. The battle had become total annihilation.

The hairs on his skin stood on end, feeling the upward pull. Thunderstorm clouds gathered above, positive particles surging, excited to the maximum by the negative discharge radiating from the ground.

A sharp edge nicked the back of his arm. The static discharge riposted instantly, frying the attacker's hand.

"Ugh!" Zetius winced and rolled to the side. Sharp pain shot up his arm, but he shook it off.

"First blood!" one of the ugly demons roared, raising its cleaver.

"Not yet. I’m not done yet!" Zetius groaned through his teeth.

"ATTACK! Don’t stop until he’s dead!" An order issued from somewhere in the chaos.

The rocks shook as a Hammerhead charged up. Zetius spun as its head thrusted toward his torso.

Immediately, Zetius side-stepped.

The Hammerhead railed off, crashing into its own ranks.

"Tsk!" Zetius clicked his tongue. Enemies surrounded him in every direction.

He dashed to the front, performing a quick horizontal slash. His blade arched back, becoming a parry against an attack from his blind spot.

"Purge him!"

"In your dreams!" Zetius swung his blade from his waist, pivoting on his ankle.

His form rotated, letting the lightning edge spin overhead.

The enemy's attack was blocked, and lightning bolts shot out, decimating his foes within a ten-metre radius.

A spinning axe hurled toward him. He raised his guard to block. The shock almost knocked the sword out of his hand.

THUD!

Another rammed into his back, sending him ten feet into the air.

He heaved, his blade still clenched tightly around the arch of his thumbs; he clung to it like it was his own life.

"He’s down! Execute him!" Loud roars and cheers reverberated through the horde.

Juggernauts surged forward, slamming their massive bodies down. Zetius gasped, his already tired body crushed under their enormous weight.

"FOR HADES!"

One after another, enemies piled up, forming a dune of red skin.

"AHHH!" Zetius grunted in pain, his eyes squeezed shut. The heat and crushing force became unbearable.

Then, he snapped. Static light leaked from his eyes. He could no longer ignore the electromagnetic field he had created.

"ASTRAPYION~BLUE!" Zetius chanted.

Electrons transferred rapidly from the tremendous imbalance. Storm lightning erupted from the ground and surged skyward, the positive lightning discharging colossal power far beyond its negative form.

Thunder exploded and erupted. Ground and dirt were pushed outward. White smoke clouded the battlefield.

There was no chanting, no cheering, no clatter of armour; only dead silence.

Dust and smoke cleared. Zetius emerged as the lone figure standing within the shallow crater. The tip of his Astrapyion-spatha pointed skyward — the defiance of a man who held the power of the mightiest god. Its low-frequency hum sang the song of death.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

Gargantuan cloud rings formed above his head; the sky had recognised his divine strength.

In the corner of his eye, under the rubbish and ruins, a metal ball cracked open.

A puny demon crawled out.

Once it realised their army had been reduced to smoke, the imp's face distorted in horror.

A lightning bolt pierced out, and its shaking body went limp.

Precise and merciless.

"HA… HA… HA…" Zetius’s breath was ragged, each exhalation like hot smoke from an oven. He rested the tip of his blade on the ground. The crackling noise in his ears ceased.

His eyes scanned the scene for any sign of threats. It was dark. Evening had reclaimed its realm.

Apart from the fleeing figures beyond the horizon, it was just him and the evening tranquillity.

A gust of wind blew, almost causing him to topple.

"It is done," Zetius breathed out. He had conquered the battle of attrition. But the toll was already paramount. It was as if he had just finished a marathon while maintaining a sprint-like pace for the entire duration.

As his mental focus faltered, the blade turned to mist.

Zetius stared at his empty palm and the Artimas glove. "You have served me well…"

He grasped his chest, the fabric drenched with sweat. The pang of burning metal and sulphur made him even dizzier.

Zetius shook his head, trying his best to stay awake.

It wouldn’t be… cool to collapse now.

A dry chuckle escaped his lips. Absurd as it sounded, he couldn’t believe himself that he, for one, had won against the impossible.

Suddenly, his ring vibrated. "Zetius!" Cubie’s voice drifted through.

"Copy, what’s going on?"

"I have successfully escorted the people to the secured location," Cubie reported.

"Atta girl." Zetius smiled, closing his eyes.

"What about you?"

"All good from my side. The demonic force has receded for now." Zetius looked over his shoulder; there was no one else.

"I’m glad you’re safe! I’ll be heading your way now," Cubie said. She waved at the people before her steel giant took off into the sky.

"Thanks…" Zetius disconnected the arc comm.

His legs dragged his tired body to the wall. Dark soot clung to the base of the structure. It was worn and damaged, but more or less, still functional.

He gulped, but his throat was too dry.

"Water…" Zetius muttered with cracked lips.

He went past the door and stumbled toward the closest building. The architecture here looked outdated, with dark and gloomy aesthetics much like Borealis Castle.

He found a two-storey house with a trampled garden. The owner must have left in a hurry, as the door was wide open.

Leaning his hand on the doorway, he peered inside. There was nothing distinct about its decoration or furniture.

"Aha!" he rasped after finding the kitchen. Without delay, he dragged his legs across the white tiles and ripped open the fridge door.

The grand prize for his battle greeted him. A water bottle tucked into the door side of the fridge. He twisted the cap off and chucked the cold water down his throat.

With a satisfied gasp, he wiped his lips with his inner arm.

"That’s better…" Zetius murmured. He grabbed another bottle, took a sip, and then poured the cold, soothing liquid over his face.

It felt like heaven.

"Ah…" Zetius felt sharp pain on the back of his arm. The adrenaline of the fight had clearly worn off.

Two fingers reached over and located the wound. "Can’t be that bad…" Zetius surmised from the lack of blood on his fingertips.

Soon, he emerged from the house, feeling rejuvenated to a degree.

"Cubie should be here in ten minutes… or so…" Zetius leaned against the exposed brick wall, drawing on its cold to cool himself.

His mind had already formed a plan. He would have to regroup with the others within the inner wall. There were 200 arcanists at most in this capital. If the Helltide returned, it would be their best strategic position to defend in the refined area.

The inner wall would be perfect for that, or so Celestius Nyrethein had discussed.

Zetius’s mind raced, connecting the dots. The two missing Lunarius of Britainia... Lunarius Barne was corrupted by a demon and attempted a suicide attack to take down his own Magnus Primarch...

Zetius rubbed his jaw. The town was quiet, but his mind became loud.

"What about the other?" he whispered. "Lunarius Nobless... What if he’s not just missing, but also corrupted?" The possibility was too high to ignore.

His eyes widened with realisation; his blood ran cold. "There was no chieftain in the enemy force... If there were, I should have noticed. They were just sacrificial pieces."

Then, a tall figure appeared across the street.

A dark elf draped in an ornate gold arc coat. His light blonde hair whipped against the cold breeze. The sound of his boots echoed, heavy with hidden darkness.

"Speak of the devil…" Zetius grunted, straightening immediately.

He extended a gloved hand to the side and summoned his blade. His limit was three, and he had already expended two.

Damn it… Zetius grimaced.

Wearing a calm, amicable smile, the dark elf adjusted his sleeves. "I truly did not expect a lowly Novitcius here."

"Lunarius Nobless…" Zetius bared his teeth, his blade raised and ready.

"Such an honour to be recognised by the man who destroyed my entire army." A gentle, kind smile painted Nobless's lips. "It would be my greatest honour to grant you passage to the underworld."

Zetius’s shoulders tensed, his knees coiling. I must be swift and decisive. I don’t have enough mana to fight him.

"We—" The elf's soft voice distorted into a demonic growl "will be welcoming you, Zetius Zel Celerius!"