The Harvester-460. The Clockwork

The 250th Plateau was a marvel. All Hosts would agree.

The Clockwork was its name. There was no vegetation in this expanse of bronze and gold. Every cloud was a dial; every Wilden was an automaton; and every mountain was a kinetic wonder.

When one stepped onto this Plateau, the sound of ticking clock hands would instantly resound in their ears. There were millions of them at every corner and yet, it was a pleasant sound; almost a lullaby that its permanent residents had assimilated as another part of nature.

Half of the Locals in this place were themselves automatons. Despite that, never has a Host called them lifeless; never was this Plateau deemed somber. The amber light coming from the rotating giant sundial in the sky made it seem like a sunrise. During the night, light bulbs of all shapes and sizes would light up across the scenery like a swarm of fireflies.

But today, tremors and explosions disrupted its peace.

A werebat zoomed by and crashed into the bronze canopy, hurling dozens of gears and cogs into the air. “Tch,” Allan clicked his tongue and pulled out the giant clock hand stabbing into his guts.

He stood up with a frustrated grunt, rolling his shoulders as the wound healed. Opposing him, a pack of malformed creatures crawled, leaped, and flew at him. Each exhibited various animalistic traits with a denominating pitch-black fur or skin.

They were thoughtless, but not stupid. Aggressive, but prudent.

Their miasma spilled over and created more with every second that passed. The Téra. Pandora’s spawn that won’t just go back into their box.

“Aah…” Allan breathed out exasperatedly. Explosions resounded in the distance and he glanced to his left, where a giant mechanical golem stomped on another group. There were Hosts flying in the sky and bombarding this unholy army of soulless beings.

The werebat wordlessly turned back to his foes and swiftly punched a hippo-like monster about to ram into him. The force behind his fist popped the creature’s head out and its corpse dropped to the ground, where it dissolved into fog.

At that, the other Téra stopped their advance. With intelligence paradoxical to their nature, they merged to form larger and individually stronger forces.

“Alright… time to get serious,” Allan muttered, and his body rolled out a wave of Ki that twisted the surrounding scraps before it got sucked back into him.

Compared to Rakna, he hadn’t dived too deep into Intent.

While it was a crucial skill to have, which, thanks to his Sub-Path, he was no slouch in, his area of expertise went more inward, to places less attuned to the mind.

Whilst developing his own Internal Art, he had invested his efforts into pure internal force. After he became an Ichubyr, he didn’t elevate his spirit; he tamed it. His body alone became the carrier of his martial arts.

And in his pursuit, he achieved something new. He didn’t know if it was because of his sole talent of innate stubbornness, his likely nature as an Abyss Creature, or his magic affinity’s quirks, but one day… his Ki embodied his magic.

Vitality Embodiment it was called. An ability that should have killed him. Ki was the body’s force, stamina, vitality; whatever you wished to call it.

It was one of the three physical energies, namely Entropy, Ki, and Chi, not to be mistaken with Qi in this context as it denoted life energy, bare of spiritual forces.

Entropy is motion, Chi is life, and Ki is matter. Altering the latter is the same as deconstructing your body down to the molecules. It functions on a completely different spectrum from magic.

Elemental Reinforcements systematically apply a spell, burning mana in the process. The crux of the matter though is that it’s temporary. Magic alters reality to serve its needs, but the World has its role to play in the opposite direction. The World both allows and denies magic.

Mana is a mediator, not the enabler.

Changing the fundamental structure of Ki is different. It does not operate formulaically. You alter it and that’s it. You give it a new form; it becomes that. You try to take it back; everything goes.

Regardless, maybe it was because Abyss Creatures strived in vacuity, or that Void Magic was just that compatible with Internal Force, or that Allan was simply gifted.

In the end, it led to one thing; his favorite application of Void Magic becoming one with him.

“[Vajra of Hollow Perfection – Gentle Void,]” Allan intoned as his eyes turned into mirrors.

Nothing else had changed outwardly, but his Ki flow certainly had. He stood still as several Téra charged at him wielding crimson lightning and fire. His glass-like eyes reflected their movements until they landed on his body.

And then… nothing. Even the Téra themselves were frozen in confusion; their hivemind pausing communication out of pure confusion. They could understand if he had at least dug his heels into the ground. But he hadn’t even done that.

He didn’t move an inch from their magic and physical attacks combined. Upon collision, it all but disappeared. The wind did not whip; energy did not burst; no sound was produced. It was as if a toddler had just tried punching the sky.

Allan scoffed and lifted his arm. He flicked his finger at empty air and everything they had tried to throw at him was shot back as one happy alliance. The physical impetus mixed with lightning and fire blasted through the dozens of Téra across several hundreds of meters.

Lowering his fuming hand, the werebat swiped left to catch the arm of a Téras whose body had joined the atmosphere. He bit into it, piercing the flesh with his fangs. He grimaced and dropped it before it subsequently disappeared. “Ugh, these things’ blood is tasteless.”

“It does hold some good amount of energy, however,” a haughty voice sounded and a white bat landed on Allan’s head. “Hm. I don’t feel like I’m touching you. You activated Vajra?”

“Yes?”

“Good timing then,” Akronis replied and pointed somewhere with his wing. “About ten thousand are coming. They are motivated today, it seems.”

“More?” Allan groaned as more battle noises echoed left and right. “It’s been three days since we got to Clockwork and all we’ve done is kill these things. Why did they have to start marching on this place now? Could have spared me from this crap…”

“Clam it up, boy. The others are not complaining are they?”

“Don’t compare me to that!” Allan retorted indignantly. And as if on cue, on the other side of the massive clockwork city that they were protecting, a rain of shadowy lightning fell from a mass of black clouds.

The pair of bats blankly looked at the flashy cataclysm. It was genuinely far. They were currently defending the outskirts of Akhet, a main city of the likes of Black Steel and New Athens. It was built like a piece of art with precise structure and beautiful buildings of amber-shining bronze.

But there was an edifice that trumped them all; a clock tower tall enough to reach the clouds and be heard from everywhere. Not only was it absurdly tall, but also stupidly large. It didn’t look out of place at all since the entire city was more than two hundred kilometers wide.

Yet, that lightning could easily be spotted. Then again, this was a Plateau where Hosts capable of reaching it had the necessary eyesight to handle the distance with their senses.

“That’s Nyx,” Allan deadpanned.

“Nyx, indeed,” his Soul Beast agreed.

The werebat sighed before turning around. “Anyway…” He grumbled and fixed his eyes on the chain of mountain-like mounds on the horizon. ‘Mountain-like’, because it was essentially a pile of mechanical pieces that may or may not mesh together, moving internally.

Supposedly, the environment of Clockwork was procedurally generated, full of those. And within those kinetic structures, one could find Dungeons and Ordeals. There was also a special material in their center, which the automaton Locals used as both energy sources and for crafting.

From behind those highlands, a new wave of Téra could be seen. Amongst them, a dozen were utter giants; as tall as the elevations they were crossing. The most dangerous had the likeness of a wyvern, a horse with a tiger head… and a robot in the shape of a lizard.

“Fourteen colossi… and are they imitating the automatons as well?” Allan scowled as he scanned the smaller ones as well, noticing many machine-like traits.

“Remember. Hans told us they are born from the aura of living beings and nature itself,” Akronis remarked. “They are adapting. They are spawning from the auras of everyone here, including the automatons, and the… ‘unique’ wildlife of this Plateau.”

“Right… so, the more they fight here, the more they’ll be born as machines,” the werebat made a disgruntled face. “These things are not too strong, but they’re scarier than you’d think.”

“Unsettling is the word,” the white bat harrumphed. “Also, if there were more high-level Hosts in this Plateau right now, they would be stronger. The more aura they feed on, the stronger.”

“Well, they’re lucky Rak isn’t here today,” Allan snorted.

“Hah!” Akronis barked. “Indeed! But we are also plenty powerful. Come on, boy!”

““[Resonance.]””

The pair intoned simultaneously and Akronis’ body erupted into a pillar of white light. It rose to the sky before suffusing into Allan’s body. The latter’s fur gained snowy patterns like those of a tiger and a second pair of wings grew on his back, of which the nets became pure white as well.

His fangs grew longer and his eyes gained a crimson sheen. With a grunt, puffing air through his nostrils, Allan leaned down and jumped, shattering the ground. He flapped his wings and broke through the sound barrier at the same time.

He raced toward the Téra, cutting his own wrists with his claws. Shimmering white blood spilled out and arched over the sky. But it didn’t go far before it was sucked back into the werebat’s grip to form an orb filled with flowing liquid.

One more thing could be said about Ki: all organic entities had it and thus could be controlled.

“[WhiteHail,]” Allan crushed the orb and his Ki launched each drop of blood like a bullet. They were faster than he was by several folds. They pelted the area, melting through the bodies of the Téra.

Those that tried to shield themselves with magic or specific defensive traits failed miserably. The ichor of a White Blood Bat could dissolve mana itself.

Hundreds of them were dead in the blink of an eye and thousands more lost limbs. Allan doubled his speed and charged straight toward the wyvern. It roared at him, lowering the injured wing it had used to stop the blood. The air around it twisted and became a tornado.

Allan sneered at that and flew right through it as if it didn’t exist; his Vajra wouldn’t allow him to be pushed back by anything. He would never allow an opponent to widen the distance; a concept that Rakna himself had genuinely called absurd the first time he saw it.

After all, the Vajra of Hollow Perfection absorbed everything it came into contact with. All that is kinetic and energetic; it didn’t matter.

As such, as long as it wasn’t filled up, Allan was effectively invincible.

The winged Téras cried out and swung both of its wings, casting a storm of wind blades, each of them capable of slicing the hardest of metals. But the werebat merely swatted those about to hit his face, merely because it was inconvenient.

When he reached melee distance, the wyvern tried to bite him. Ultimately, the creature quickly began to show signs of trepidation when even the strength of its jaw was drained away. It was a sensation that any creature, much less a newborn, would be scared of.

Allan grabbed its snout, and with a swell of his muscles, he hurled its head away. Immediately, a white and black colored Spiritual Intent formed around him.

“Here, back at you,” he grinned and thrust his palm.

This was the true advantage Intent had for Allan. The power absorbed by his Void Ki was hard to control when let out. Because it basically didn’t go through any filter. If it absorbed wind, it’d just come out as wind, and the same thing applied to physical forces. Even for the latter, there were differences between blunt, sharp, piercing, and flat.

His Sub-Path, Spiritual Pugilist, not only enhanced his control over Intent but also allowed him to extend that control to levels far above normal when it came to hand-to-hand combat.

And that was why, a single palm thrust… obliterated the upper body of the wyvern. The Void Ki became empty again, but it was ready to eat more.

“Heh,” Allan smirked at the other colossal Téra staring him down. “Is that all you’ve got?” He said as he heard the System register his contribution to the Global Quest.

Without delay, two of the colossi swung their arms to crush him. A thousand more regular Téra shot various spells that didn’t seem to deviate from the fundamental elements.

Allan easily ignored them and blocked the two giants with his forearms. At the same time, a pair of mid-sized Téra roared out a wave of flames and the half-mechanical colossus raised the metal from the surroundings to stab him through.

The werebat huffed and clenched his fists. “[BlackDiamond.]” A flash of darkness erupted and vaporized all nearby projectiles. It bounced and crawled up the arms of the Téra in direct contact with Allan and tore their shoulders apart with an explosion.

The spells still traveling through the air detonated prematurely due to the shockwave and Allan flew out of it, switching targets and heading toward the tiger-headed horse. Said creature was calmer than the others; it opened its eyes wide and fired a notched beam of red energy at speeds nearly impossible to track.

Allan was briefly startled and crossed his arms. As soon as it hit him, it was sucked straight into his Void Ki. However, the sheer quantity of energy packed into it rapidly challenged the capacity limit, searing his arms.

“Pouring everything you have, huh?” The werewolf commented. “Sadly, not enough,” he uttered and his Vajra began to passively expel the stored power. “Who said I couldn’t eject surplus?”

As the beam gradually weakened, he breached through the middle of it, boosting his wings with the power he drained from it. A line split the red wave, and the Téras found itself neighing loudly when it was slammed into the ruins of a bronze mountain.

Standing on its neck, Allan grinned. “You can be useful,” he uttered and plunged his fangs into its flesh, injecting a large dose of his own blood. The Téras wailed as its veins bulged and paled until they were pure white.

It took less than ten seconds for the creature to cease all struggle. The Ichubyr took his fangs out and spat to the side. “A bit better. But still bland,” he commented and pivoted to his right where a massive array of scrap metal rained toward him, each enchanted with magic by many Téra; one thing not to underestimate about these creatures was their ability to work together.

“[GreatDiamond,]” Allan intoned and immediately spent the rest of his stored energy. He threw a punch at the incoming projectiles and a shockwave spread from his fist. Followed by a red halo of energy taken straight from the Téras below him.

In the blink of an eye, half of the colossi were knocked down, a hundred more minions exploded, and the earth quaked whilst the land bloated due to the vibrations.

Then, Allan carefully maintained his balance as the ‘ground’ under his feet began to sway. Soon enough, the tiger-headed horse lifted him up, standing on its hooves anew. A web of silvery veins pulsed on its neck, stretching up to its empty and lifeless eyes.

“Fire away, my guy,” the werebat on its shoulder laughed.

On cue, a red light reignited in its pupils and blasted a hole through the head of the lizard, barely recovering from the GreatDiamond. The metal it was magically controlling fell from the air and back into the scenery.

The resuscitated Téras didn’t stop there. It bobbed its head, and the beam tore through the land, splitting several of its brethren. The blistering trench it left behind detonated in turn into a chain of explosions.

Allan whistled as the tiger’s eyes dimmed. “Well, damn.”

“{A decent thrall, for once,}” Akronis commented within their shared consciousness.

“Honestly, with the whole ‘soulless, body made of aura, and hivemind’ thing, I wasn’t sure I could turn a Téras into one,” the werebat said as he jumped off the creature, landing heavily on one of the yet-vanished carcasses. “But they are organic right now and do have blood, so yeah…”

Rolling his shoulders, Allan was about to ram into the remaining Téra, but before he could, a thin wire glinted in the air, accompanied by a melodious sound. Promptly, every colossal-scale Téras suddenly found their heads lopped off.

The werebat blinked before groaning. “Come on, that’s not cool. Those were mine,” he grumbled and looked up, right as a huge, winged snake arrived.

“It’s your fault for holding back so much.” On its back, Marie smiled playfully. “I finished my side of things, so I had time to kill,” she joked and flicked her hand, strumming at ethereal strings. An arpeggiated melody reverberated and the creatures that heard it abruptly fell into a trance.

“Turns out they’re awfully susceptible to my brand of mind magic. The music itself is something that unconsciously repeats inside their hivemind.”

“And then you finish them with ‘piano wire’…” Allan rolled his eyes. “I swear, that spell shouldn’t be as strong as it is with that name. I feel like it could cut even me.”

“Well, it’s Tier 3 for a reason. A low-cost, high-tier spell is the dream,” the lamia chuckled as her summoned snake landed loudly. “Also, more guilds have arrived just now to support the defense of Akhet. I’ve heard Friedhof is here too. We’re probably not needed anymore.”

“The mercenary guild of that Undertaker guy?” The werebat raised an eyebrow. “They aren’t too busy up there?” He figuratively pointed a finger at the upper Plateaus.

“Friedhof has a lot of members; they can spare a few. They’re not ranked 11th for nothing,” Marie shrugged. “Also, my snakes have been relaying to me that Clockwork is the only Plateau under actual siege right now. There are far more Téra marching here than anywhere else. Something is either teleporting them or actively stimulating their birth. Or both.”

Allan frowned. “According to Eva, the Main Terminals of each Major City are what they want. Did they come here after failing in the others?”

“Maybe. Black Steel is virtually impenetrable, New Athens has disadvantageous terrain, Old Eden is filled with the old and strong Hosts, and Shattered Paradise is guarded by the Shattered Order Guild. I can’t say I don’t understand the outcome,” Marie huffed.

“Heh, you’ve certainly studied a lot after coming out of the Dungeon,” Allan smiled fondly.

She flushed slightly. “What? I’m not a blockhead like you. I wanted to learn more.”

“I’ll have you know I was an A-grade student,” the werebat defended himself with a scoff. “But I never liked studying; exams are just too nerve-wracking. Argh, that forced sense of expectation should be outlawed as torture, seriously,” he shivered.

“Uh-uh,” Marie blankly stared at him.

“What? It’s true!” He stood his ground.

As they bantered, they both sensed a new wave of Téra approaching. But before they could do anything about it, something cast a shadow over them and thousands of lasers dazzlingly rained from above, vaporizing the Téra.

Allan looked up and widened his eyes in surprise. Several aircraft with ridiculously high energy signatures zoomed past and meticulously shot down the Téra. And with every second, a new one would appear as if coming out of hyperdrive.

Before long, the entire city was surrounded by these ships that would be better fit seen in outer space. Some of them were even projecting cylinders of light toward the ground, in which scrap metal was being recycled into infantry robots.

“Machina…” Marie muttered quietly.

As the 98th Guild on the Ranking; Machina was quite a unique case. Its only member was also its creator; Orion, the Machine Emperor. He had been living in the System for more than a thousand years and the sheer quantity of technology he created had replaced the need for guild members.

Despite its low rank, his Guild was one of the greatest armies in Systema.

“Well, with a bigshot from the Myth Council here, I suppose we can leave for good,” Allan uttered after a moment of admiring the epitome of science fiction.

“Indeed… let’s regroup and wait for Rakna,” Marie nodded.

“Sure thing,” he snickered and prepared to undo his Resonance, though he started by disabling the circulation of his Internal Art. Bit by bit, his eyes regained their organic quality.

Unfortunately, he failed to notice the disturbance behind him at the time. Only when he was once again vulnerable did his nose and echolocation pick up the threat.

“{Behind you, boy!}” Akronis shouted, sensing the same thing.

But these thoughts came too late. A shock spread from his back and pierced through his body as if drilling through his flesh and bones. Allan staggered forward in shock and slowly looked down at himself. That movement alone caused his throat to constrict.

Before he knew it, he was vomiting blood.

“Allan!”

He could barely hear Marie’s distress as he realized half of his torso was missing, dripping white blood, with his organs strewn out. Left with just enough energy to turn his head, he caught sight of his assailant from the corner of his eye.

A humanoid Téras wearing a dark blue cloak; as tall as Allan in his werebat form and covered in a compact, black chitin exoskeleton, obviously insectoid in nature based on their blue compound eyes and antennas.

Smirking, the creature spoke with a male voice, “Goodness me. I thought you were never going to turn it off.” Its voice was airy and somewhat high-pitched.

It was then that Allan noticed the weapon that had injured him; a white wooden spear that made his vampiric instincts go haywire just by being close to it. When he heard the System blare about his regeneration failing… he understood what happened right as his body hit the ground.