Chương 280

Silver blades swept toward Orion's neck, moving with liquid grace as the Mage-Killer closed the last few inches. It was so close he could see the individual points of light behind its visor, where a mockery of a face sat. Orion released the micro-singularity. For once, there was no cinematic explosion, no roaring pillar of fire, nor a shockwave to rattle the concrete. The true iteration of [Gamma Ray] operated far beyond human perception amd the visible spectrum.

An infinitely steep gravitational well, holding the blue-shifted photons in a constant state of decay, collapsed, allowing the constrained radiation to burst forward. The spell possessed a frequency so unimaginably high that it simply ignored the macroscopic properties of the world. It tore through the intervening space, ionizing the air itself and creating a sudden vacuum that sucked the surrounding gray ash into its wake.

The Mage-Killer, trusting its Silence-Alloy armor to shield it from any last-minute gambits, met the beam. It was a machine designed to devour magic. Its chassis was engineered to absorb physical force, unravel arcane weaves, and neutralize raw elemental energy. It was the ultimate countermeasure against Cyril's casters, limited only by the power its creator could impart. But [Gamma Ray] was not a magical construct relying on its caster to exist.

The power of physics permeated every facet of reality, especially when great forces were invoked. An actual gamma-ray burst, the phenomenon on which the spell was based, was an event of unimaginable violence, capable of consuming entire star systems in its wake. While Orion's spell was but a pale imitation, there was a portion of the truth even within the false self, and that was more than enough to overcome the protection afforded by the mystery alloy.

Invisible radiation struck the prototype's chest plate, stripping electrons directly from their atomic orbits. The molecular bonds holding the steel and the Silence together simply ceased to exist. Silver armor flashed a blinding white, then fell apart. The Mage-Killer's momentum carried it forward another half-step before its entire upper torso dissolved into a cloud of drifting subatomic dust.

Its silver blades fell to the asphalt, clattering uselessly against the stone, detached from arms that were no longer there. The beam continued on its silent trajectory, far too fast for anything to even know it had been released, punching through the dense fog. It struck a Centurion thirty yards behind the prototype, melting a perfectly circular hole through its plating and instantly vaporizing its organic core.

It also sheared through the chassis of two more Walkers behind it before finally dissipating high in the sky, after spending its energy carving a deep, glowing trench into the facility's eastern wall. Orion's body screamed. He'd known to expect it, of course. What he'd just summoned was more than a mere Tier Two spell. More than a Tier Three one, too, if he had it right. Given his limitations, such things came at a cost. A hollow, scraping agony radiated from his chest, threatening to buckle his knees.

His CC burned, severely overheated from the strain of forcing the Holographic Principle into reality. He tasted blood and bit his lower lip to keep from crying out. It took him a moment, but he fought the urge to collapse. With every ounce of his remaining willpower, he locked his knees and straightened his posture. He kept his hands raised, palms still facing the Iron State forces, projecting an aura of detached readiness. He needed the enemy to believe he had a second shot chambered and ready to fire.

System Notification Actualized Higher Principle while below Third Threshold. Personally defeated [Iron State Prototype - Code: Mage-Killer] [Lv. 148] Major Level Disparity Bonus Applied. Participated in the defeat of [Iron State Centurion] [Lv. 119] Participated in the defeat of [Iron State Walker] x2 [Lv. 88-92] +3, 105, 000 Exp Level Up! Exp Banked. Level 100. The blue window hovered at the center of his vision, burning brighter than the alchemical fires scattered across the courtyard.

He had reached the threshold of his current existence. A secondary prompt materialized, somehow much more real, demanding his immediate attention to initiate the Tier three evolution process. Orion mentally shoved it aside. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Accepting the evolution now meant leaving the battlefield. The System would wrap him in a protective cocoon, cutting him off from the outside world as it rewrote his Class and integrated his new powers.

He would be perfectly safe, sure, but utterly useless to his team. Jordan was bleeding heavily. Garrick was still locked in a brutal struggle with the remaining machines. The others weren't much better, either injured or nearly overwhelmed. No, entering stasis now would leave them a man down in the middle of a war zone. Thus, despite the pain, he kept his hands raised as if ready to cast again, staring through the acrid smoke at the one man who could stop it all.

Standing on the flatbed of his transport vehicle, Kethor stopped taking notes. He looked at the drifting gray ash that, seconds ago, had been his most advanced creation. Adjusting his dark goggles, he traced the glowing holes punched through the wreckage of his rear guard. When he tapped his collar microphone, his voice echoed from the transport's external speakers, ringing over the hiss of venting steam and the clash of steel.

Worse, he showed no trace of anger, no sorrow for the loss of his prized construct, and no fear at all.

"Fascinating," Kethor said, his tone conveying only mild delight, almost as if a scholar had discovered a new problem.

"The initial scan indicates complete atomic dissociation, so it looks like the Silence-Alloy did not fail to absorb the spell; the spell simply ignored the alloy's macroscopic structure altogether. It appears to be a form of extreme, high-frequency radiation. An ionizing beam of some sort, far beyond what was previously observed." As he spoke, he resumed typing notes on his tablet.

"I had theorized it was possible, but bypassing the magical suppression by using a purely physical phenomenon, even if it was born of magic, wasn't something I expected to see here," Kethor continued, dictating his notes for future review.

"A brilliant circumvention, I must admit. The chassis will require a fundamental redesign to account for subatomic degradation. Perhaps a localized electromagnetic shield or a fluid-dynamic layer to disperse the heat signature before molecular collapse occurs? That might stretch my budget a bit too far. I'll need to provide more druids to central command if I want to avoid giving out my secrets for now." He lowered the tablet, turning his gaze toward Orion and looking at him intently for the first time.

"I see you are operating at very low mana capacity, young man," Kethor observed, his voice eerily polite.

"The micro-tremors in your hands and the dilation of your pupils indicate severe systemic exhaustion. Attempting to project a threat you cannot fulfill is commendable, if unnecessary." Orion kept his face perfectly blank, refusing to confirm or deny the assessment, though his heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

"As I said, have no fear," Kethor added, looking around the courtyard at the battered yet still dangerous strike team.

"The data gathered here is already sufficient for the next production cycle. Attempting to capture you now would cost me the rest of this garrison, and the statistical probability of success has fallen below acceptable parameters. Preserving the research data is the logical priority." A moment of silence followed as they processed what he was saying. Tilting his head, much like a crow eyeing a tasty morsel, Kethor couldn't help but continue.

"And I am looking forward to seeing how you'll fare against the next iteration. Yes, that will be an interesting fight indeed." Without another word, he tapped a sequence of buttons on his terminal.

"Initiate Final Defense Protocol," he ordered.

"Expend all remaining assets to secure extraction." The courtyard erupted into chaos. Four arachnid constructs scuttled forward, abandoning all defensive subroutines as they opened the high-pressure valves beneath them, flooding the battlefield with boiling clouds of acid smoke. The remaining two dozen Walkers and augmented soldiers charged blindly into the fray, firing their alchemical rifles without aiming, rushing forward with the sole intent of locking Team Obsidian in close combat.

"Don't let him run!" Garrick roared, stepping in front of pale Verner and swinging his greatsword to carve through a charging Walker. Erethemor met the frenzy with raw draconic fury. He plunged into the thickest cloud of acid smoke, his fiery aura flaring violently to burn away the toxic gas before it could reach his scales. He grabbed one of the towering arachnid machines by its front legs, roaring as he strained against the hydraulic pressure.

Servos whined, then snapped, and Erethemor tore the leg free, using the broken limb as a club to smash the construct's optical sensors. Esmeralda moved like a phantom through the chaos. The thick Silence hampered her illusions, but she relied on her vampiric speed to dart between the augmented guards. Her rapier found the soft gaps between their plates, severing arteries and spinal cords with surgical precision.

She danced away from a burst of alchemical fire, her velvet gown singed and her breathing heavy as the lack of ambient mana strained her endurance. Normally, she would have used blood as a substitute, but the guards all seemed to bleed other liquids. There was little Orion could do. It was a miracle he was standing at all, given how leaden his limbs felt, but he forced himself to bend, grab a chunk of concrete, and throw it at a soldier trying to swarm Jordan.

The chunk cracked against the armor, doing little real damage, but the impact surprised the soldier and gave Jordan the precious seconds he needed. His holy Light was extinguished, his silver armor battered and stained with his own blood. Yet when he gripped his sword with both hands, the enemy could do little to stop him. He parried a bladed thrust, stepped inside the guard's reach, and drove the steel pommel into the soldier's rebreather, shattering the mask and the face beneath it.

Before anyone could get the bright idea of making for Orion, he retreated cautiously until Verner saw him and let him take cover under his shield, where the mage traced lines in the air and fired thin darts of arcane force. He was clearly conserving energy, aiming only at the charging machines' exposed joints and crippling their mobility rather than trying to destroy their armored chassis.

Through the churning smoke and the blinding flashes of gunfire, Orion caught a glimpse of Kethor's transport vehicle as it reversed rapidly into the thickest bank of fog.

"He's escaping!" he shouted. Erethemor heard the call and dropped the ruined chassis of an arachnid machine, turning his burning gaze toward the retreating vehicle. He let out a feral roar and lunged forward, intent on tearing a path through the remaining Iron State guards. He slammed into their ranks, hurling two of them aside in a burst of fire, but the guards' suicidal programming held true. A Centurion intercepted him, wrapping its bladed arms around Erethemor's waist.

The Dragonkin snarled and drove his claws into the machine's chest, but the construct clamped down, tightening its grip on his side. Steaming red blood spilled across the asphalt, and Erethemor bellowed in pain, unleashing a torrent of fire directly into the Centurion's optical slit, melting the machine from the inside out. He pushed the slagged remains aside, clutching his bleeding side, his momentum broken. The transport vehicle vanished into the gray mist as the sound of its heavy engine faded into the distance.

Without Kethor to direct them, the machines grew less efficient, relying solely on forward pressure, which allowed Garrick and the others to dismantle them piece by piece. When the final Walker collapsed, its organic core crushed beneath Garrick's boot, an eerie quiet fell. The battle took a heavy toll. Everyone was injured, some more than others, including Jordan, who tried and failed to summon enough light to heal himself.

Garrick hobbled over to him, almost throwing a vial in his face and forcing him to drink it. Fortunately, the blood flow eased after that, and Jordan slumped in relief. Orion wasn't too proud to admit he lost track of time after that. His mind was a strange mix of empty and far too busy, and kept looping back to the system window, waiting for his attention. A calloused hand clamped onto his shoulder, drawing him away from his thoughts.

"Get on with it!" The order made him blink in surprise.

"That should have provided enough experience for you to rank up," Garrick explained.

"We're going to need that power. Take the evolution now. We will protect you and heal our wounds in the meantime. Make sure to choose something useful. Understood?"