The Apocalypse is a Side Quest: Book Three, page 14
Nathan took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll try.”
“Good. Because this portal research could change everything.” She was already absorbed in the paper again.
Nathan turned to leave but paused. “How’s the research going with the spirit water?”
“Not well. Whatever that substance is… it’s beyond my understanding.”
“I picked up some interesting lore you might want to hear.”
“Oh?” She didn’t look up.
Nathan shrugged. “An octopus I met inside the spirit water portal called it the ‘Golden Realm.’ Apparently, a few beings live there. Unfortunately, it couldn’t tell me much else.”
For half a second, he considered mentioning the mysterious eldritch entity watching them—but the thought vanished as quickly as it came. Just considering it sent a chill through the room.
“What was that?” Vee frowned. “Why did the temperature drop?”
“No reason. I should get going.”
Vee snapped her fingers. “Oh—Bree and Fuge want to talk to you, if you didn’t know.”
Nathan could guess why. “All right, thanks. See you later.”
“You too. Good luck, Nathan.”
Clarence adjusted his position by the window of the laboratory. Inside, he could overhear every word Nathan and Vee were saying. On his neck, the black crystal suppressing his presence shimmered faintly.
Permanent portals. Gabriel had been researching the possibility for ages—he knew how important it was. But they’d never cracked the code. Now, it seemed Nathan’s people had assembled the missing pieces, needing only that one sliver of information. Once again, the vigilante had struck a serious blow.
But it didn’t matter.
Clarence slipped away from the window and hid behind the wall of the house. When Nathan exited, he waited a few seconds before following.
The crystal was invaluable. Not only did it muffle his footsteps and movements, but it also masked nearly all traces of his presence—mana, energy, whatever you wanted to call it.
It was the perfect tool for stealth.
The only issue was that it was a one-time usage item. After the timer was up, no one would be able to borrow its immense power.
But it didn’t matter.
Clarence had been assigned this mission at B32’s urging. And it looked like it would pay off.
First, Clarence needed to confirm which town was next.
He kept his hands in his pockets, his clothing loose, and continued trailing Nathan. The tricky part would be infiltrating the palace itself.
Clarence had always been good at improvising.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the city’s general prosperity. The streets were overcrowded—he kept bumping into people—but for the most part, it was nearly as well-kept as the Harrowed Hand’s capital.
Eventually, they reached the presidential palace. Nathan was admitted by the guards, but a tall, thin fence barred Clarence from going further. He stared up at it and crossed his arms.
This would be tricky.
The best solution?
Identity theft.
He watched as one of Nathan’s bureaucrats—not a minister; Clarence had already identified those—exited the grounds. Just a paper-pusher, a werewolf.
Clarence waited until the man passed an alleyway, then struck. He lunged forward, grabbed the werewolf by the neck, and choked hard. A muffled growl escaped, but the struggle soon faded. The werewolf went limp.
Clarence was glad Silas had persuaded him to attend those training classes; otherwise, this would’ve been much harder.
The thought of Silas made him frown, but he shoved the memory aside.
Revenge. For Silas. For everyone Nathan had slaughtered on his path of blood.
Clarence activated [Perception of Essence]. A sliver of the werewolf’s essence—not the whole, just enough—absorbed into the spell, layering over Clarence’s features like a mask. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it would suffice for now.
He stripped the werewolf of his belongings and strode back toward the palace.
The guards came into view. Clarence kept his expression neutral.
“You’re back?” one asked.
“Forgot something inside,” Clarence answered, his voice now the werewolf’s rough growl.
One guard shrugged. The spears parted to let him through.
He took a few steps before another guard abruptly blocked his path.
“Wait. We need the code. You know how it is.”
Clarence froze.
He didn’t have a code.
Before he could respond, the first guard shoved the other. “Come on, stop messing with him. We know Virgo.”
The second guard laughed and lowered his spear. “Fine. But you’ve already clocked out. And don’t tell anyone, got it?”
“My lips are sealed,” Clarence said.
This time, he was allowed through without issue. He exhaled quietly.
Too close.
Inside, the building sprawled with hallways and offices. Bureaucrats shuffled about, buried in paperwork. Ahead, a larger doorway stood slightly ajar. Voices spilled out.
“You’re suggesting a full-frontal attack?”
“We knew it’d come to this. I know you’re hesitant about reinforcements, but—”
“No, I understand. If you think this is the way, then we’ll do it.”
Clarence edged closer to the door, pretending to busy himself.
“Good. I was worried you’d disagree.”
“I had a talk with someone earlier. The Harrowed Hand has to be stopped. We’re in this for the long haul.”
Sweat trickled down Clarence’s fur. He couldn’t linger—someone would notice. But he needed a name.
“Tactically, we’ve improved the catapults’ range. Mara’s also stockpiling explosives.”
“That’s not concerning at all.”
Footsteps behind him. Clarence stiffened.
“Excuse me. What are you doing?”
He turned. A mushroom man—stern-faced, glasses perched on his nose, a notebook at his side—stared at him like a misplaced document.
“I’m… waiting for a meeting with Lord Nathan,” Clarence said, rubbing his paws together.
“Unfortunate timing. He’s in a war council.”
Clarence chuckled, the sound hollow. “These walls are thin, huh?”
The man adjusted his glasses. “I suppose. I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Burrau.”
Clarence hesitated, then extended a hand. “Virgo.”
“Ah. Zoning board, right?”
Clarence wanted to scream.
“Yes. And you?”
Burrau’s brows furrowed. “I’m the Minister of Legal Affairs. You didn’t recognize me?”
Clarence forced a smile. “Thought you looked familiar! Just couldn’t place the face.”
Behind the door, the discussion continued:
“Where were you thinking of striking?”
“Not the capital, if that’s your concern—”
Goosebumps prickled Clarence’s spine. So close.
Burrau sighed. “Standing this close to the door violates the employee code. Section 37, Clause 5, Subclause C.”
“Oh, does it?”
They were about to say the name. Just a little longer.
“Yes. Step away.”
Clarence turned slowly—
Then came the muttered words from the inside:
“–the sea town,” someone said.
Relief flooded him. He stepped back, meeting Burrau’s scrutinizing gaze.
“I’ll be speaking to your supervisor,” Burrau said.
“Of course, sir.” Clarence grinned. “Feel free.”
Burrau’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Clarence was already walking away.
Nathan was about to meet a world of pain.
Chapter Twenty
“This is monumentally stupid, you know that, right?”
“Hey, I’m not the one who designed the town layout.”
Nathan, Bree, and a few others stood atop one of the pirate-era ships assembled outside Nathan’s town.
Their attention was fixed ahead on an island fortress town. Tall walls, catapults, and an array of artillery bristled along its defenses, all primed to shoot down incoming ships.
The funny thing about the town they were about to attack? Unlike the others, it had no ground. The entire soulbound settlement was suspended in the middle of an ocean, hence the need for boats.
“I still don’t understand why you’re doing the pirate thing,” Nathan said. “You realize that looks ridiculous, right?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The eyepatch Bree wore stuck out painfully against her face.
“You’re not even blind—”
“Shut up, it makes me look cool.”
The wind whipped against the sails, the sound beating loudly. They’d be in firing range soon—another thirty seconds, if that.
The plan was simple: close the distance, take out the artillery, and once they got close enough, Nathan would use Basic Maelstrom to breach the defenses. With all this water around, his skills would have more than enough fuel to smash through the walls.
Twenty seconds now.
At the ship’s bow, Mara cackled like a madwoman as she loaded cannonball after cannonball into the front-mounted cannon—a weapon she’d modified to fire semi-automatically.
The cannon went off, and the projectiles whizzed through the air, smashing against the magically enchanted walls of the town. Nathan’s gaze flicked toward the crow’s nest, where Chad stood, pointing his blue-flaming longsword at the enemy island like some overzealous naval commander.
I hate everyone here. All of them.
Ten seconds.
Bree slammed her brass-knuckled fists together with a metallic clang.
“This is going to be interesting,” she said.
“For most of this fight, you’re going to be functionally useless,” Nathan replied.
Bree staggered as if struck.
“You didn’t have to say it so harshly!”
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
A ballista atop the fortress walls released, sending a magically enhanced arrow streaking toward Nathan. He sidestepped, letting it slam into the deck, embedding itself deep into the wood.
“That’s gonna leave a mark,” Nathan muttered.
Then came the sound—half a dozen more projectiles whistling through the air. Nathan lunged forward, hitting the deck just as a volley of ballista shots tore through the ship, splintering wood into jagged shrapnel.
“Charge forward!” Chad shouted. “Never surrender!”
“Counterattack! Purge the infidels!” Mara yelled.
Nathan squinted at her as the woman struck a match against a cannonball. The flame reached the fuse—
Then, shot after shot fired from the cannon in rapid succession. The air filled with a volley of iron-black balls hurtling toward the trebuchets and catapults lining the walls. Several found their marks, igniting cries of rage and terror.
“Perfect shot!” Mara crowed.
They were halfway there. If nothing else went wrong, Nathan’s forces would land on the island unopposed.
But Nathan had played this game before. He knew that something absurd was about to derail everything—some dramatic, last-second twist that would force a reckless rescue. His fingers drummed the ship’s railing.
…
Nothing happened.
Three-quarters of the way. Still nothing. After that first volley, the enemy had… given up?
That couldn’t be right.
The ships touched shore without resistance. No counterattack. No ambush.
Nathan took a single step forward—then froze. Every instinct in his body screamed.
Atop the wall, a figure emerged.
Reckson.
And he was glowing—so brightly it seared Nathan’s vision. Like a miniature sun.
Nathan’s stomach dropped.
“Everyone, abandon ship! NOW!”
Mara stiffened, then hurled herself overboard. Bree and Fuge followed without hesitation. Nathan leaped after them.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Reckson turn his finger horizontal.
He flicked his finger.
Then the world exploded.
Wind tore through the fleet, obliterating every vessel in an instant. Splinters rained like shrapnel; the ocean’s surface boiled from the force.
Nathan gasped as he surfaced, lungs burning. Around him, a handful of others did the same.
“What the hell was that?” Chad spat.
“I knew he’d do that,” Nathan muttered. “But can he do it whenever he wants? There’s gotta be a limit—otherwise, why would he—”
“Nathan! Behind us!”
He whirled. Black sails advanced toward the island—reinforcements. Far more than Fuge and Bree had predicted. They were surrounded.
And at the helm of the lead ship—
Gabriel.
They had been completely outmaneuvered. Surrounded, outnumbered, and trapped between the fortress wall and dozens of steamships carrying hundreds, if not thousands, of troops.
“Nathan, what do we do?” Mara shouted.
Bree’s gaze darted between him and Nathan. “We need to do something, and fast.”
Nathan’s heart hammered in his chest. Attack the ships? No, his men weren’t trained for that. Storm the fortress? Ideal, but they’d just be overwhelmed and stuck defending an indefensible position. Retreat? That might have been an option earlier, but now, with the fleet closing in, it was impossible. He couldn’t ferry his entire army using water cultivation alone.
His hands trembled.
He reached into his pocket, fingers searching.
No pearl.
Had he not been desperate enough? Did he need to focus harder? Or had Thalassa abandoned him, rescinded her blessing?
He fumbled deeper into the fabric. “Come on, come on—”
“Nathan!”
His head snapped up. “What?”
“Dude, do something!”
Mara grabbed his shoulder. “If you can get onto that main boat and keep them distracted for five minutes, I can whip out my Ultra Mega Hyper Meta Boss Monster Killer 3000.”
Nathan stared at her. “Your what?”
“You heard me.” Mara’s eyes gleamed. “The boss monster killer, remember? I’ve been saving it. Five minutes to charge up, and it’ll take out both Reckson and Gabriel. You just need to buy me time.”
Nathan yanked his shoulder free and turned toward the fortress.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he said. “We take that fortress in under a minute. Then we cut the head off the snake.”
“How? I feel like there are some details lacking in this plan.
“It’s the only plan I’ve got!”
“What about Reckson and Gabriel?”
“Last time, he was exhausted after one attack. That kind of power has to have a cost. Mara will take them out with her… thing. But I need to get to that boat first.”
“Hey, be grateful! I only have two shots in this thing! You have no idea how much I’m sacrificing!”
It had to work. Otherwise, they were dead.
Nathan launched himself from the water, conjuring a spout to hurl him skyward. Defenders on the walls gaped as he rose.
“Basic Maelstrom.”
Water ripped from the ocean, swirling into a lethal disk around him. He hurled himself forward, the maelstrom slamming into the fortress wall.
For an instant, the bricks flared yellow—defensive magic, just as he’d expected. The glow intensified to blinding brilliance—
Then shattered.
The wall exploded outward, hurling defenders into the sea or onto the rocks below. The fortress was nearly empty.
“Go, go!” he bellowed.
Bree and Fuge charged past him. Bree parried a sword strike, then drove her fist into an opponent’s jaw. Fuge hooked a halberd with her blade, wrenching it aside before cutting the man down.
Behind them, the armada closed in.
Nathan’s tongue darted over dry lips.
His eyes scoured the battlefield for Reckson, but the man was gone. No body. No trace.
His army flooded the fortress. They moved like a single organism, flawless discipline in every step.
“I trained them well, don’t you think?” Fuge said.
Nathan gave a grim nod. “Let’s hope it’s enough.”
As the last soldier slipped inside, he locked eyes with Bree. “Close the gap.”
She clenched her fist, and the earth obeyed. Stone surged, sealing the breach just as a cannonball screamed overhead. The impact rocked the walls, yellow bricks flaring under the strain.
Nathan sprinted to the battlements, meeting Gabriel’s gaze across the water.
“Mara,” he called, “think you can pick off their gunners?”
The click of her rifle answered him.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Shot after shot rang out, each finding its mark. Gabriel ducked behind steel plating as return fire whizzed past—Mara didn’t flinch.
But where was Reckson? Had he truly vanished?
No. He was waiting. Hunting for the perfect moment.
Arrows and bullets rained down on exposed deckhands, yet the ships pressed forward. Nathan stepped onto the wall’s edge, cracking his knuckles.
“You know,” he muttered, “there’s one thing they forgot.”
Mara didn’t glance up from her scope. “And that is?”
“They’re in my territory now.”
Nathan jumped off the wall and plunged into the ocean with a loud splash. Overhead, he heard multiple projectiles slice through the air where he’d just been. His cultivation surged, propelling him deeper underwater and toward Gabriel.
His body glided through the water like a fish, but then every alarm in his mind screamed at once. Instinct took over—he twisted left, barely dodging a boiling wave of energy. He tried to trace its source, but the water obscured everything.
The warning flashed again. He jerked right this time, the attack shearing off a lock of his hair. His heart hammered in his chest. Kicking upward, he gathered his power.
