Chapter 498: Resorting to Every Possible Means, No Turning Back

With the members of the Utopia organization and the towering structures blocking the surface of the Ash Plains utterly annihilated, no force remained to impede the advance of the Sky Mechanical City.

The entire array of sorcerous runes etched across the outer perimeter of the main deck unfurled, utilizing the power of the void to shield the city against the corrosive, "internal combustion" energies emanating from the Ash Plains, allowing the fortress to descend steadily into the subterranean depths.

"Clack, clack, clack, clack..."

Rapid footsteps echoed through the corridors of the Sky Mechanical City. A researcher, clutching a clipboard, sprinted through the halls, his head darting left and right as he scanned the signage on the walls.

"I must get this information to the Academy quickly; it is vital to the outcome of the war. Faster, just a little faster..."

His breathing was ragged, his tone frantic as he muttered to himself. Though still in the prime of his life and physically capable, the researcher was so weakened by his prolonged, high-speed sprint that he seemed on the verge of collapse.

"Apolon, why are you running like that? Get back to your post! The Sky Mechanical City is about to enter the Ash Plains, which will likely be the site of our final battle against the Utopia organization. Minor lapses are one thing, but now you..."

A door in the corridor ahead swung open, and an observer poked his head out, frowning at the sprinting man.

Responsible for monitoring certain internal sectors of the city, the observer immediately recognized his acquaintance and, seeing him racing about instead of manning his communications station, felt compelled to remind him of the gravity of the situation.

Before he could finish, Apolon grabbed him by the shoulders, locking eyes with him, his gaze filled with such desperate urgency that the observer’s words died in his throat.

"I didn't! While I was on duty, I re-verified the data from the lab and discovered a deeply hidden parameter error. If this vulnerability remains, the World Anchor will almost certainly malfunction during operation. We must fix this. Take me to Mr. Icarus, or come with me to the Anchor."

Apolon spoke with such velocity that the observer could barely keep up, yet he grasped the essence of the plea. He gripped the manuscript Apolon had thrust into his hands—pages dense with theoretical calculations and verification processes, evidence of the long hours spent confirming the discovery.

"A problem... fine, I'll take you."

The observer wanted to say more, but he hesitated, ultimately yielding to the request; he knew Apolon well enough to know he would never act without cause.

"Keep up. Since you've found the flaw, we must correct it immediately."

With a surge of magic, the observer cast a spell, allowing them to glide just above the floor, propelled by a controlled current of air. They navigated the complex corridors with ease; to the mage’s sharp, active mind, the intricate layout was merely a series of memory points, impossible to misinterpret.

They descended rapidly toward the lower levels of the Sky Mechanical City. The sheer scale of the fortress made its internal structure absurdly labyrinthine; with over a hundred levels, traversing them without teleportation arrays would take an eternity. Thus, the most efficient way to reach a specific sector was to petition the Tower Spirit for an internal transfer.

Because spellcasting was strictly prohibited within the city, only those with high-level clearance could use first or second-tier spells to assist movement, while spatial magic required fourth-tier or higher to transport others. Remembering the location of each level's teleportation array and requesting access from the Tower Spirit was of paramount importance.

After descending five or six levels and rounding several corridors, they reached a sealed metal bulkhead. The observer swiped his ID card against the sensor array; the door groaned open, revealing a teleportation array behind it.

"Member of the Beacon of Guidance Academy, holder of wartime secondary clearance, requesting teleportation access. Destination: World Anchor Maintenance Chamber. Reason: Vulnerability repair."

The observer stood before the unpowered array, reciting the protocol to initiate the request.

"Teleportation access granted."

Thirty seconds later, the mechanical voice of the Tower Spirit echoed. The previously dim array flared with light, fully charged and ready for use.

"Let's go. Hurry. Are you absolutely certain this vulnerability exists?"

The observer stepped onto the array, pressing Apolon one last time. A matter concerning the World Anchor was never trivial; if his acquaintance was mistaken, he would be implicated as well.

"Trust me."

Apolon’s reply was concise. The frantic, breathless energy he had displayed moments ago had vanished, replaced by a solemn, quiet focus. Now that he had calmed down, he seemed even more certain of his findings.

"Very well."

The observer cast one last look at his friend and nodded, activating the array. Spatial fluctuations rippled through the air, and their figures vanished, only to reappear at their destination.

"Quickly—"

"Zzzzt!"

Apolon took a step forward, but before he could finish his sentence, a deep red beam struck him. His physical form—everything save for the items he carried—shattered in an instant, dissolving into fine, drifting ash.

Seventh-tier specialized spell: Life Dissociation. A spell targeting only biological matter, it annihilated the body while leaving the items it carried completely untouched.

"Mr. Icarus, is Apolon truly a member of the Utopia organization?"

They were in a completely sealed room, reinforced by layers of high-strength alchemical alloys. The alchemical fuel charges set around the perimeter were powerful enough to grind even a Legendary Knight to death before they could break out.

"I do not know. We do not gamble."

Icarus shook his head, his voice transmitted through a mechanical spider. The two had been separated the moment they teleported; the observer had been isolated in a small room overlooking the cell, while Apolon had been sent directly into the trap.

The observer had witnessed the entire process of Apolon’s death by dissociation. He still found it hard to believe that his old acquaintance was a traitor.

Inside the cell, an alchemical construct crawled out to collect the items Apolon had left behind. The moment it touched one of the spheres, unstable void energy mixed with magical fluctuations erupted—a devastating explosion was about to bloom.

"Well hidden. It must be a technology of the Utopia organization that we have yet to acquire."

Icarus watched the small sphere on the screen as it gathered power. The high-energy material monitoring system, which was always active in the Sky Mechanical City, had failed to detect the dangerous object.

The observer was stunned. He had no idea Apolon had hidden such a destructive device within the city. If it had detonated near the World Anchor, the consequences would have been catastrophic.

A flash of orange light flickered, and the sphere in the cell was sucked into a rift and vanished. Seventh-tier spell: Plane Banishment. Used on an unresisting object, it sent the target directly to the Elemental Plane. The sphere likely had anti-transfer properties based on void energy, but in this area, which was covered by the World Anchor, such defenses were useless.

"For the sake of caution, you will also need to be isolated for a period of time. Please forgive my prudence."

The mechanical spider at the observer's feet emitted Icarus's voice.

"It's fine. I understand."

The observer sighed, but as he had said, he understood completely.

"Have you analyzed those data parameters?"

Astartes asked Icarus, who was currently in the command center. They had known the contents of Apolon’s manuscript all along; Astartes was omnipresent within the Sky Mechanical City, and attempting to hide anything from the Tower Spirit was essentially impossible.

"I have calculated them. They are not fake; the problem is real. However, it is merely a minor deviation in the guidance process. Corrections from other paths can resolve this gap automatically. The World Anchor’s self-fault tolerance was designed for exactly these scenarios."

Icarus replied.

"My calculations match yours. The error point is too mechanical—a mistake that is easy to overlook but highly likely to occur. Yet, when summarized, it feels unnatural, as if it were deliberately left for this very moment."

Astartes’ voice came from the ceiling. The views of the Winged Race and the Tower Spirit were in perfect alignment.

"The members of the Utopia organization are indeed among us, or perhaps among the intelligent races of the continent. Those who held high positions in the various kingdoms and caused wars could not hide their identities, but who can say who the truly nameless are?"

"Using every means at their disposal, are they? Then I, too, must be cruel."

Speaking to himself, Icarus activated the purge mechanism, incinerating the cell where Apolon had been held to ensure nothing remained.

Apolon’s target was the World Anchor, but in truth, Astartes had never given him a chance to get close. The location of that death cell was in a hidden, special sector on the upper deck of the Sky Mechanical City—a place that could be ejected from the city entirely if desired.

This was Icarus’s method. The Utopia organization would stop at nothing to hinder the Allied Legions, and these hidden agents were a critical threat.

Icarus and the Sky Mechanical City lacked the ability to discern whether their wills had been compromised, so they could only execute a ruthless strategy: anyone attempting to approach the World Anchor, regardless of the reason, would be sent to this location and executed the moment they attempted to open a portal directed toward the Anchor.

"I believe you are capable of holding this position of decision-maker. You have done well."

Astartes the Tower Spirit said to Icarus. Cruel and effective measures were the cold necessity of a commander.

"Thank you for your recognition. But if it were possible, I would not choose this path."

Icarus thanked the Tower Spirit, but if he were not forced by necessity, how could he ever choose such a way?

At that moment, a flood of messages arrived at Icarus’s terminal through the communication channels.

"..."

After a few seconds of silence, Icarus issued his orders to the communicators in the cold, stark form of text.

"Do not look back. Advance."

The messages that had been arriving one after another ceased abruptly, followed by a uniform, final response before falling into silence.

"Understood."

...

The Kingdom of Alestler, the elven capital of Liahim, the dwarven stronghold of Ironforge, the merfolk realms of the Endless Sea—every corner of the continent, save for the Ashen Plains, now trembled.

Edward and Charles watched as the sky above shifted from a limpid azure to a bruised, deepening violet, while Sif and Gawain turned their gazes toward the colossal phantoms manifesting over the distant plains, and the dwarven grandfather and grandson of the Bronzebeard clan stared at the torrents of void energy surging from the depths of the earth, as the high priest of the merfolk kingdom sensed the ocean currents below being churned by some unfathomable leviathan.

"Indeed, they have arrived."

They truly would stop at nothing, would they?