Chương 62: Confrontation

Montague Castle shook and trembled. The backlash from the wards' destruction was immense. All of the mana that had previously powered the wards had to go somewhere. However, with nothing to absorb or redirect the flow, the mana had no choice but to spill outward into the surrounding environment, to… unpredictable effect. Magic by nature existed in a constant state of flux. Inherently contradictory and always changing, it was chaos manifest.

And with the sheer amount of mana that had been siphoned from the leyline node underneath… Well. The entire castle grounds quickly devolved into chaos. The ambient mana had risen to such high levels that the entire site resembled a magical hotspot – with the accompanying preternatural effects that came with it. Gravity became lighter in some areas, heavier in others, and inverted at the rest; earthquakes of different magnitudes rippled through the ground; the wind currents became wild and frenzied.

For the guards, many of whom had never adventured out far enough into the wildlands to encounter a magical hotspot, they were utterly disoriented by the suddenly variable environment. For Qorbin Ravenbane and Alistair Merriweather, though? They were right at home.

"Hahaha!" Merriweather's laughter boomed throughout the battlefield as he leaped up high into the air, boosted by the lighter gravity. Then, he crossed some invisible line into a section with heavier gravity, and immediately dropped like a sack of potatoes. He had accounted for this, however, and used the increased momentum to power his downward strike.

"Have at you!" Qorbin took a moment to watch in appreciation as Merriweather crashed into the middle of five guards, slamming his stone axe into the ground. A shockwave exploded outward, knocking the guards off their feet. Merriweather instantly capitalized on their lack of balance and swung his axe outward in a spinning attack. Armor dented and cracked as the guards were sent flying backward at staggering speeds. Then, he returned to his primary task at hand.

Namely, putting the fear of the Goddess into the mages and marksmen that continued to rain spells and arrows down upon them. Activating his [Twilight Trespass], Qorbin disappeared into the shadows, reappearing next to a group of mages who were pouring their mana into a spell circle before them.

"None of that," he drawled with a lazy slash of his blade. The mages cried out in panic and alarm as his strike, empowered with [Assassin's Diplomacy], shattered the spell circle with ease. His blade, glowing with a dark light, streaked through the air as he dashed forward in a blur of speed. Spells and arrows assaulted him from every side, but he moved so fast that he practically flickered in and out of view.

He seemed to be untouchable as he dodged every attack with ease, his advanced footwork ensuring that his path was utterly unpredictable. The mages and rangers fell one after another. Knights rushed to guard them, but they barely even made Qorbin pause; his blade whipped out like a hissing viper and found the chinks in their armor with magnetic accuracy.

One particularly powerful knight – he must've been orichalcum-tier – lasted several seconds, but then another earthquake rippled through the ground, knocking him off-kilter for a split second. That single instant was more than enough time for Qorbin to take him down. While assassins technically were weak against frontline fighters, Qorbin outleveled them by such a ludicrous degree that whatever class advantages they held were easily wiped out.

He was a Mythmaker, after all, and the strongest guard here seemed to be orichalcum at best. Admittedly, Qorbin was moving a bit slower than he would've liked, but that was more because he had to make sure he kept all his attacks strictly nonlethal. These guards were just doing their jobs. They didn't deserve to be killed. That was the same reason why Merriweather was wielding a blunt stone axe instead of his customary adamantine battleaxe.

This way, his attacks merely crushed bone and pulverized tendons instead of straight-up cleaving the guards into two like they ordinarily would have. It had the bonus effect of making sure Merriweather stayed incognito, as his normal weapon might've been used to identify him. Unlike Qorbin, Merriweather actually had a stable job and sterling reputation he wanted to preserve. The half opera mask and wig he wore looked silly, but they were actually magical items claimed from Hawke's collection.

The enchantments on them rendered Merriweather unidentifiable. Qorbin didn't really know how it worked; his eyes had glazed over when Levi analyzed the enchantment in a few seconds and began explaining – something about a hypnotic SEP field. All that mattered was that the disguise ensured the assault would never be traced back to Merriweather.

"Come now, put your back into it!" Merriweather lectured as he pressed upon a brawler.

"Keep your hands up, keep your hands up! How do you ever expect to defend with that many openings?" A hail of arrows blasted toward him from the side. Merriweather didn't even bother to give them a glance; a sudden violent gust of wind blew out from nowhere and knocked them all aside. The brawler was already moving, however, having thought Merriweather would turn to defend. His face morphed into one of horror as Merriweather tsked before promptly batting him aside like a fly.

The brawler slammed into the castle wall with a loud crack before sliding to the ground, unconscious. Merriweather cast his gaze outward.

"Well? Who's next? Don't worry, the lesson will be free of charge." He grinned dangerously.

"Education ought to be accessible to everyone, after all." The remaining guards stepped back warily. It took Qorbin and Merriweather only a few minutes to defeat them all. They stepped up toward the castle entrance, leaving a pile of groaning bodies behind them in various states of consciousness.

"Do you think Levi has reached Liliya yet?" Merriweather asked. Before them, the gleaming castle double doors stood tall and proud, capable of withstanding battering rams, high-yield explosives, and colossal monster attacks. However, the craftsmen clearly didn't have Merriweather in mind when they constructed the doors, because Merriweather merely examined the door for a few seconds before bending his knees and barrelling forward in a powerful charge.

His sturdy form collided with the doors with a resounding boom, knocking them straight off their hinges. They crashed to the quartz ground, sending up clouds of marble dust.

"Most likely, yes," Qorbin said, stepping over the doors.

"Getting there is the easy part, though. It all hinges on how long it'll take before he can convince Liliya to escape – and I imagine he'll want to have a word with Montague as well. We just have to grant him enough time to do what he needs to do."

"Heh, true enough," Merriweather smiled as they entered the grand entrance hall and came across their next set of enemies.

"If nothing else, this will be a fun battle. Why, I feel ten years younger already." The guards inside looked stronger, more experienced. Qorbin estimated they were all orichalcum-tier, with perhaps a few low Adamantine-tiers with them. Inside the castle itself, the guards would receive a bonus territory effect as well, boosting their stats tremendously. Interspersed between them were Royal Sentinels, some of the strongest and best the country had to offer. This wouldn't be the same as the fight earlier.

"A fun battle…" Qorbin repeated, his gaze indecipherable as he surveyed the enemies before him. Then a fierce, excited smile split his face. His blood roared through his veins.

"Well. You can say that again." Levi waited patiently for Liliya's response as she stared at him. The moonlight streamed in from the window behind her, casting an ethereal glow over her form. She was dressed in a silk nightgown, her feet bare on the polished white quartz floor. He'd never seen her in such a vulnerable state before; he'd have to apologize for the sudden intrusion later, but there hadn't been any time to waste. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Below, he could hear the distant sounds of fighting. It appeared Qorbin and Merriweather were doing their jobs of being effective diversions. However, Levi didn't know how long they could hold out. From how Qorbin had explained it, the outer guards were easy enough to take care of, but the inner guards were far stronger – not to mention the Royal Sentinels and potential mercenary adventurers on payroll. Outside the door, the two Royal Sentinels were slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Levi had knocked them out easily enough, albeit more painfully than was necessary. He had remembered their faces from when they'd taken Liliya into custody.

"You're here," Liliya said blankly.

"Why are you here? I thought I told you not to come."

"You did."

"So then why?" she demanded. Her confusion was slowly transforming into panic, though she tried her best to conceal it.

"Montague won't forgive this assault. This is a direct attack on his seat of power. If he decided to, he could levy the entire country against you and – who else is out there? Qorbin?" Levi nodded.

"And Professor Merriweather." Liliya's eyes widened in surprise.

"What? He's here as well? Why did he come?"

"Do you really need to ask?" A series of emotions flickered across Liliya's face.

"No. I suppose I don't," she murmured. She looked briefly touched, heartened that Merriweather had come, but she shook her head a moment later.

"But that's beside the point. This isn't a joke, Levi. The political consequences alone – Goddess, the Duke himself is here as well." She fought to keep her voice steady.

"This would be more than enough grounds to declare a blood feud. The bounty that'd be placed on your head… You'll be hunted by all of Luminarche." Her expression set.

"You need to leave."

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that," Levi said.

"Allowing you to surrender yourself in the first place was already a mistake. One I refuse to make again."

"A mistake? You made the right choice."

"No, I didn't," Levi said softly.

"I did what I thought to be right, but I now realize was very wrong. Letting you sacrifice yourself like that, doing nothing as you gave up your entire future to be wedded to a piece of scum…"

"Such is my duty," Liliya said, her voice hard.

"This is what I'm meant to do; I've known it ever since I was a little girl."

"It's not what your heart desires though, is it?"

"Of course it's not!" she snapped.

"Do you think I wish to become nothing more than a breeding mare? To be locked indoors after training so hard all my life? But it's what I have to do! I don't have a choice–""You do. Perhaps in the past, that might've been true, but now, I'm offering you one." Liliya laughed, a broken, hopeless sound.

"How? You may be strong, but even you can't stand up against an entire country–!"

"I can," Levi said. She stared at him disbelievingly.

"What? I've never taken you to be one overcome by arrogance. You can't possibly think you can survive being hunted by all of Luminarche." Levi was silent for a long moment. Then, he chuckled ruefully.

"I suppose this is my fault," he said.

"I've been keeping some things from you – perhaps if I'd been truthful from the beginning, we'd have been able to avoid this situation altogether. As it stands… You're right. I don't think I can survive being hunted by this entire country." Liliya began to speak, but was cut off by his next words.

"I know I can. I've once survived being hunted by an entire world, after all." Liliya stared at him.

"What?"

"You asked before who I was?" Levi said.

"Very well. The truth is, I'm a reincarnated soul from another world. In my previous life, I was a former servant of Death, hunted by the entire world for something I'd done. Gods, demons, the fae themselves… they were all after my head. Yet for three years, I fended off and evaded every last one of them. More to the point, however…" His posture shifted, for once changing from his normally relaxed state into a tightly coiled stance.

His eyes became fully serious as his presence filled the room; not bloodlust, but rather the sheer iron will of someone who'd once been one of the most powerful individuals in the entire world – and still likely was.

"In my service to Death, I've defeated enemies of unimaginable strength," Levi said, his voice hard.

"Dark sorcerers more magic than man, grandmaster warriors who could part the ocean with a piece of straw, undying eldritch abominations from the void between worlds. I've destroyed demons, I've slaughtered monsters older than civilization – I've once cut down a literal god. Montague, the Royal Sentinels, even Luminarche?" He laughed.

"They're nothing compared to what I've had to deal with before." His voice softened.

"So I swear to you, Liliya. I can protect you from whoever dares trample upon your soul. Your father, Montague, this entire damned country itself. Just say the word, and I'll move even the heavens and earth." Liliya stared at him, her eyes wide as she struggled to process his words.

"But why?" she asked quietly.

"I don't understand. Why go so far just for me?"

"Because you deserve better than this," Levi said.

"Because I care for you. And because…" A small, curious smile crossed his face.

"Well, you see… Once, I really, really wanted to be a hero." Liliya drew in a sharp breath.

"For too long, I'd given up on that dream," Levi said.

"But thankfully, someone finally helped me see the light. Talked some sense into me – no." Even as he said it, he realized that wasn't quite true.

"Even before that, back in the cave when you tried to save me despite it likely costing you your own life… That was what first caused the gears to start turning once more. So I ask of you – " He extended a hand.

"Will you please allow me to try one more time?" For several long seconds, Liliya didn't respond. The silence between them stretched as she regarded him. And she smiled. Levi slipped into Theodore Montague's study without much difficulty. Despite the late hour, the man was still filling out paperwork at his desk. It didn't seem like he was bothered by the sound of battle filtering in from outside at all – but in fairness, Levi knew just how much of a pain paperwork could be.

He must've trusted his guards and men to take care of things. Montague didn't seem to notice him. Understandable, considering how Levi was hidden by total presence concealment. He'd phased through the wall earlier, the icy sensation still lingering on his skin. Levi took a second to examine Montague's appearance. This was his first time seeing Montague in person, and admittedly he wasn't exactly what Levi had expected.

Theodore Montague had perfectly coiffed blonde hair, high aristocratic cheekbones, and sharp azure eyes. He looked dignified, handsome even. Well. Enough stalling. Levi dismissed his presence concealment and cleared his throat.

"Hello, Montague." Montague whipped his head around to stare at him. He recognized him instantly.

"Levi Ironwood?" Levi had expected Montague to react with shock or contempt. He hadn't, however, expected Montague to immediately flinch in absolute abject terror, fear filling his eyes.

"You're alive," he said.

"How are you alive? I sent the Last Order after you! I don't understand. I don't understand–!" He flinched again, suddenly turning to face the corner of the room.

"No, no, no, I tried my best – it's not my fault, I did what I could, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry –" Levi frowned as Montague continued babbling. He didn't seem to be talking to Levi anymore, but was instead speaking to some unknown being in the room. With some trepidation, Levi activated his True Sight and looked at the corner as well. There was nothing there. Levi's frown deepened as he channeled more magic to his True Sight. Nothing changed.

He was peering into every layer of reality, yet the corner was just the corner; there was nothing out of the ordinary at all. And yet… His instincts were crawling, some primal part of him screaming out. He was trembling, he realized, his back breaking into a cold sweat. There was nothing there. The corner was just the corner.

But if he twisted his vision in just the wrong way, peered into and around and beyond the layers of reality, he swore he could see something out of the corner of his eye– Montague was standing right in front of him. Levi hadn't even seen him move. To reiterate: Levi, with his True Sight active, with his magic reinforcing his vision to its limit, hadn't even seen Montague move. That shouldn't have been possible. Montague examined him intently, closely, for several long moments.

"It really is you," he murmured. Then, his face twisted.

"How are you NOT DEAD?" His voice became layered with multiple bass resonating tones, his eyes were both focused and unfocused all at once, something terrible peering out from deep within them. Levi had to stop himself from flinching at the sheer wrongness of it all.

"HOW ARE YOU NOT DEAD, LEVI IRONWOOD? WE'VE TRIED TO KILL YOU SO MANY TIMES, WE HAVE KILLED YOU, SO WHY WON'T YOU JUST DIE AND STAY DEAD?!" We? Levi stared at Montague, his eyes wide as his magic whirled around within him in agitation.

"What?"