Chapter 80: End of War

“Shit!” Altair cursed as she lunged at Delila again. Once more, Delila teleported—Altair couldn’t reach her. Cecile whipped her horse so Cylia could get there faster.

“Help her!” Sheena yelled. The duel had stunned them with awe, and she forgot a truce was never guaranteed after the fight. Sheena spread her wings and darted forward, ready to rescue her comrade. The battle had turned chaotic.

Sheena’s sword glowed. It was a bit too far for a lethal strike, but she believed it would be enough to buy Delila some time.

Suddenly, her vision went dark, as if the sun had died out in an instant. A monster cloaked in darkness, an avatar of fear, spawned next to her, ready to devour her very being. Instinct took over; her sword cut through the creature before her mind caught up.

“What the heck?” The monster vanished in a wisp of smoke. She scanned her surroundings. Her symbiote pulsed in fright, but that reaction only made her calmer. Only after she scolded her symbiote did they regain their composure. Thanks to the bond they shared, the trust they had, and the implicit understanding between them did they overcame the fear that beguiled their hearts.

Her vision cleared, revealing the battlefield she knew. There, Litmus’ symbiote user in a purple dress—uncanny clothing for a battlefield—sat on a horse behind another Litmus knight, one with a flesh-eating tentacle spread like a wing. The purple tentacle spawned an eye that glared at her as if peering into her soul.

Sheena narrowed her eyes. Altair and Delila’s figures flashed in and out of sight. She spat, realizing her vision was being tampered with.

“Tch. Illusion-type symbiote.” Sheena cursed under her breath. She felt unsteady; her symbiote pulsed with anxiety. She scolded it for being such a chicken. “Shut it! There’s nothing there, dumbass!”

“Understood. Guide me.” The symbiote said.

With that reprimand, her symbiote calmed. She was about to charge toward the illusion user when Delghar scrambled beside her. His symbiote was out of control again. Delghar was supposed to be benched for this fight until he gained proper control of his symbiote, but Cylia’s illusion had hit him hard. The fear and confusion had sent his symbiote into a frenzy—an unexpected weakness of Latvin’s symbiote users. Their oppressed nature made them vulnerable to delusions.

“ARGH!!”

“Delghar! Calm down! It’s just an illusion!”

“This thing won’t listen! Argh!! Help me!” Delghar fell like a bird whose wings had been clipped. His symbiote went on a rampage—engulfing him, ripping him apart flesh by flesh. Driven by fear of the unknown, trusting nobody, alone in the dark, it rampaged.

Sheena saw Delghar’s fear as his symbiote abandoned all instinct of self-preservation. His body burst out, spilling flesh and blood onto her face. Thus ended Delghar, one of the empire’s four symbiote users.

“That went far above my expectations,” Cylia muttered as she watched Delghar fall, his remains consumed by his own symbiote. Cecile twitched; her hand caressed her stomach, where Hiro lay, after seeing Delghar’s fate.

There was a researcher in the distant past who proposed an essay claiming that a symbiote was a relative of a parasitic tentacle. He was labeled a heretic and executed by those in power. But deep down, they knew this researcher was right—yet they couldn’t have people fear symbiotes. Symbiotes were symbols of power, symbols of prestige, symbols of honor. Power must not be feared, but controlled.

Cecile wondered whether Hiro would do that to her—whether he would consume her until there was nothing left. If that were to happen, would she feel fear? Or would she feel joy? She realized she was already too far gone. The fact that the thought of being eaten like Delghar excited her was solid proof she was already under Hiro’s control. She wanted to feel fear, but she only felt excitement at the thought of Hiro eating her.

“Cylia, what are we going to do next?” Cecile asked.

“We either retreat or press on. I don’t think Altair can handle Delilah—her power surpasses hers,” Cylia said.

“Damnit!” Delilah cursed as she retreated toward Delghar with Sheena in tow. Delghar and his symbiote could no longer be saved now that it had run amok. It could only be cut down. Unlike parasitic tentacles, symbiotes could not live by themselves. They were only a bit stronger than a slime or goblin alone. After a while without a host, the symbiote would die of starvation or turn into a man-eating monster. But before it came to that, Sheena and Delilah cut it down, shattering its core.

“How do the kings and nations store symbiotes if they die without a host?” Cecile asked.

“When the symbiotes are small, they can be stored inside a container filled with nutrients such as milk and honey, and then washed with water daily,” Cylia—who was a proper symbiote user, one who had made a contract with her symbiote, Gothic—answered. “Or they can be fed live animals daily. A rampaging symbiote like that could die within hours without killing humans, but the calm ones could last days. Methods vary by nation.”

“I see. They killed it, though. What a waste.”

“I wonder. Maybe they’re afraid of the minuscule chance it could latch onto another suitable host, or maybe they don’t want it to run amok in their territory like a wild animal? Who knows?” Cylia said. Gothic, her symbiote spawned several more eyes, intending to distract Delila and Sheena so Altair could deliver a killing blow.

“...Do we chase them?” Altair landed beside Cylia, her face contorted into a frown. Her confidence took a sharp hit as she could not finish Delilah off despite the perfect ambush.

“I will let the general decide,” Cylia said, turning her head toward the cavalry. She was especially disgusted at Delana who, after letting their symbiote users die, were preparing to pack up. The general rode toward the front with Mutual and his knights.

“Chase or flee?” Cylia asked.

“Erm… do you think you can win?” the general, ever meek, asked.

“Not sure. Delilah was strong enough to beat Val in a fair duel. I can’t get a grip on her teleportation ability,” Altair admitted. This was not the time for pride and arrogance.

“We can win if I can get closer. But you need to support me,” Cylia said. “Her ability is perfect for my ability.”

“What about Sheena?”

“Maybe we should wait for Gilgamesh after all,” the general said. He then observed the battlefield, and surprisingly, Latvin’s armies pulled back. “Ah, they are retreating to Sicily.”

“We missed our chance. I am not good at city battles. I need to see the enemy for me to influence them.” Cylia sighed.

“Well. Our enemies seem to have made our choice for us. Let’s go back to Evesys Castle,” the general nodded.

“Damn it. You guys are cowards… but better than those guys at Val’s command,” Altair scrunched up her face. Seeing the tension die down, Hiro dropped the flower he grew on Cecile’s back, cursing the loss of nutrients and cell storage. He had expected to use them as a distraction in symbiote combat. But before he could get close to Delilah, the battle was over, with both sides retreating.

“It’s a draw at least, Altair.” Cylia shrugged.

“I am already past the pride and arrogance symbiote users often have, Cylia.”

“Ah, good for you then.”

“Were all Litmus’ symbiotes like that?” Altair muttered. Hiro shook his tentacle. Seraphine wasn’t like her; he was more like Altair now—confident but open to suggestion.

“Well, if you had a mother, who was also a symbiote user, killed before you by commoners, you would think twice about their power. They are powerful, but not omnipotent.” Cylia said.

“How...” Altair didn’t ask. There were ways to kill symbiote users apart from combat. Poisons such as the drug those Latvin scums used were one of them.

“I must say, I am not thrilled to speak with Gilgamesh. Do we have to employ his help, General?” Cylia asked.

“...To ensure all of you—at the very least, you and Hiro—survive, I would suggest we wait for reinforcement, Lady Cylia.” The general paused for a moment when he realized he had failed in his mission: to bring back all symbiote users alive.

“Gilgamesh is more powerful than Val, I assure you, but also more arrogant.” Altair winced. Then her gaze met Delana’s cavalry. “So, what are you gonna do? Your symbiote user died in a duel.”

“The duel is sacred. We should honor the truce.”

“Val Sabertooth acted without our consent. The truce he spoke about will only apply to you. There is no need to honor it,” Cylia said to the general. She then turned to Delana’s cavalry. “I heard your cavalry is the best. I would like to employ you. Will you work as our mercenaries, or will you return to Delana?”

“… Yes. Half of us will go back and deliver the news. The other half will join your cavalry.” The beast-men cavalry’s leader scrunched their face. Now that they had lost their champion, the only fate that awaited them back home was persecution.

“We will be grateful for your cooperation.”

“What will happen to Vertia?” the cavalry leader said.

“Huh? Now that your champion has died—moreover, lost a one-on-one duel—could you really claim that land?” Altair was triggered at the insolent request. Even among symbiotes, in a duel, the loser had no say in anything. That was a fact.

“Are you saying you will enslave our fellow beastmen?”

“I am not saying such things! You can have your people, but the land is ours!” Altair said. The general couldn’t care less about this war, but he also needed to act in his country’s interest.

“But...understood. We shall do as you wish.”

“That discussion is above our paygrade, let’s go back to Evesys Castle. Rebecca, it seems your castle is cursed. We can’t seem to get rid of it.” Altair sighed at how the war had ground into a stalemate. They had even lost a symbiote. Altair could only curse the heavens.

“That’s rude. It was not mine! It was my father’s! I am no longer an Evesys!” Hiro chuckled at the part that irritated Rebecca the most. She had left the Evesys family a year ago and did not wish to be associated with it anymore.

“Just kidding. Let’s go. Let’s see if I can get Gilgamesh killed. He might be stupid and arrogant, but he is powerful,” Altair said. “Hanuth, Corinth, when will Gilgamesh arrive?”

“Yes! Our messenger said they will arrive within a week, Divine Host Altair!” her retainer saluted.

“We shall wait for them,” the general said. Altair didn’t say anything else and pulled back.

Hiro planned to slip in some sexy time with his girls. Cecile in particular seemed pent up, and Hiro wanted to fondle her body. But the war had left little time for such entertainment. This break was just the thing he needed.

Alas, his wish was not granted, because not even two days later, they received surprising news from their scouts. Latvin had gone into a civil war, and all its symbiote hosts had deserted.

The king had been assassinated.