The Extra's Rise-Chapter 826: Infernal Armis (1)

The journey back to the Ashbluff palace took on a vastly different tone than my earlier departure. Where I had left alone with grim purpose, I now returned accompanied by Grand Marshal Meilyn Potan, whose presence served as living proof that the western frontier’s greatest threat had finally been eliminated.

Meilyn flew beside me with the kind of controlled grace that spoke to years of aerial combat experience, her navy blue hair streaming behind her while her golden eyes remained fixed on the approaching capital. She had insisted on accompanying me to deliver the news personally, claiming that reports of the Axe King’s death needed to come from someone whose authority couldn’t be questioned.

"Are you certain you’re ready for this?" I asked as the familiar spires of the royal palace came into view. "The political implications of Vorgath’s death are going to ripple across the entire continent."

"I’ve been preparing for this moment for years," Meilyn replied with quiet determination. "The western frontier can finally begin planning for expansion rather than just survival. That’s worth any amount of political complexity."

We descended toward the palace grounds, our approach immediately triggering responses from the enhanced security systems that had been implemented since my earlier confrontation with Valen. Guards rushed to positions along the walls while sensors swept us with identification protocols, though the alerts died away quickly as our identities were confirmed.

King Valen emerged from the main palace structure before we had even fully landed, his enhanced senses no doubt having detected our approach from miles away. His expression carried the kind of carefully controlled anticipation that spoke to a ruler who understood that unexpected visits from powerful individuals rarely brought simple news.

"Arthur," he said as I touched down in the courtyard, his grey eyes immediately shifting to assess Meilyn’s presence. "Grand Marshal Potan. This is... unexpected."

"Your Majesty," Meilyn replied with crisp military formality, bowing slightly while maintaining the bearing of someone delivering information of critical importance. "I come bearing news from the western frontier."

"The duel," Valen said with immediate understanding, his gaze returning to me with sharp intensity. "It’s finished?"

"Vorgath Ironmaw is dead," I confirmed simply, noting how the words seemed to hit Valen with almost physical force despite his composed demeanor.

For a moment, the King of the Western Continent simply stared at me, processing the implications of what I had just announced. The Axe King had been one of the five Cult Leaders. His death represented a fundamental shift in the balance of power that would affect every aspect of continental politics.

"How?" Valen asked finally, his voice carrying the kind of careful neutrality that came from recognizing that the answer might be more significant than the simple fact of victory.

"Quickly," I replied with deliberate understatement. "He was strong."

Meilyn stepped forward, her golden eyes reflecting the kind of professional satisfaction that came from witnessing the elimination of a long-standing threat. "The battle lasted perhaps ten minutes, Your Majesty. Arthur dominated the confrontation from the beginning."

"Ten minutes," Valen repeated slowly, his analytical mind clearly working through the implications of such an overwhelming victory. "Against one of the five Cult Leaders. The continent owes you a debt beyond measure, Arthur. With the Axe King dead, the western frontier can finally—"

"I was simply upholding an oath," I interrupted gently but firmly. "Seven years ago, I made a promise to duel Vorgath in exchange for Grand Marshal Potan’s life. That debt has now been settled."

"Still," Valen insisted, genuine gratitude bleeding through his royal composure, "what you’ve accomplished will save countless lives. The Savage Communion’s expansion has been checked, and their leadership structure has been severely damaged."

That comment sparked a train of thought that had been developing during my flight back to the capital. With Vorgath dead and the cult’s primary military leader eliminated, this represented an ideal opportunity to address the broader threat they posed to continental stability.

"About that," I said, my tone growing more serious as I considered the strategic implications. "With the Axe King gone, the Savage Communion has lost their most effective Pope. This might be the perfect time for a coordinated assault on their remaining strongholds."

Valen’s eyes sharpened with immediate interest. "You’re suggesting a full campaign against their territories?"

"I’m suggesting that you coordinate such a campaign," I clarified, noting how both Valen and Meilyn leaned forward slightly at the distinction. "The Western Continent has the military resources and strategic position to roll up their remaining installations before they can reorganize under new leadership."

"And you?" Meilyn asked with obvious concern. "Surely your participation would be crucial for ensuring success against their remaining cult leaders."

I shook my head with a slight smile. "My work here is finished. I’ve honored my obligations to both the Ashbluff family and the western frontier. Now I need to return home with Stella and focus on other matters that require my attention."

We moved into the palace proper as our conversation continued, the familiar corridors now feeling oddly peaceful after the various confrontations that had taken place over the past few days. Servants and guards bowed respectfully as we passed, though I noted how their deference carried a different quality now—recognition of someone whose capabilities had been definitively proven rather than simple acknowledgment of rank or reputation.

"The intelligence networks suggest that without Vorgath’s direct leadership, the remaining cult territories will likely fracture into competing factions," Meilyn observed as we entered one of the palace’s strategic planning chambers. "If we move quickly, we can prevent them from consolidating under unified command."

"Exactly," Valen agreed, his mind clearly already working through deployment schedules and resource allocation. "A series of coordinated strikes over the next six months could break their remaining power permanently."

I nodded approvingly at their strategic thinking, satisfied that the western frontier would be in capable hands after my departure. Both Valen and Meilyn possessed the experience and resources necessary to handle threats that operated through conventional means, even if those threats remained dangerous to normal military forces.

"When do you plan to leave?" Valen asked, turning his attention back to me with an expression that mixed understanding with genuine regret.

"Within the next few days," I replied. "I want to make sure Rin is fully stabilized in her recovery, and Stella has been patient about extending our visit longer than originally planned."

"She’s remarkable, your daughter," Meilyn commented with the kind of genuine warmth that spoke to someone who genuinely appreciated exceptional individuals. "Her composure during the border crisis was... unusual for someone her age."

"Stella has had to adapt to circumstances that most children never face," I said with paternal pride mixed with slight concern about the responsibilities she had been forced to shoulder. "Though I try to ensure she has as normal a childhood as possible."

We continued discussing various aspects of the planned campaign against the Savage Communion, with Valen and Meilyn working through tactical considerations while I offered occasional insights based on my understanding of cult operations and leadership structures. The conversation was both productive and oddly relaxing—the kind of strategic planning session that reminded me why I valued competent allies even when I could handle most threats directly.

Then something changed.

It started as a subtle shift in the ambient mana levels around the palace, the kind of disturbance that enhanced senses could detect but normal perception might miss entirely. Both Valen and I straightened immediately, our conversation dying as we focused on identifying the source of the anomaly.

"Do you feel that?" Valen asked, his voice carrying the kind of tension that came from recognizing potential danger without being able to identify its nature.

"Yes," I confirmed, my enhanced senses reaching out to analyze the growing disturbance. "Something powerful is approaching. Very powerful."

The sensation continued to build, layers of energy accumulating in patterns that spoke to forces operating on a scale that dwarfed most magical phenomena. Through our mental link, I felt Luna’s attention snap to full alertness as she detected the same anomalous readings.

’Arthur,’ her voice carried urgent concern, ’this energy signature... it’s not from this world.’

Before I could respond to her warning, the disturbance reached a crescendo that made every enhanced individual in the palace grounds stagger under its intensity. Outside the windows, we could see a streak of light blazing across the sky—not a meteor or natural phenomenon, but something artificial that moved with purposeful trajectory.

Whatever it was impacted the earth perhaps fifty miles from the capital, the force of its arrival sending shockwaves through the ground that rattled the palace’s foundations despite the distance involved.

"What in the name of the gods was that?" Valen demanded, his enhanced senses clearly struggling to process readings that defied easy categorization.

But even as he spoke, recognition was dawning in my consciousness as Luna’s memories provided context for what we had just witnessed. The original Arthur had told us about artifacts like this—objects of power so immense that they existed partially outside normal space-time, appearing in various worlds and eras according to patterns that defied conventional understanding.

"That," I said quietly, my voice carrying a mixture of awe and growing concern, "was a Mythical-grade artifact making planetfall."

"Mythical-grade?" Valen repeated, his analytical mind clearly working through the implications of such a classification. "I thought those were theoretical constructs."

’Not theoretical,’ Luna confirmed through our mental link, her ancient knowledge providing details that made my blood run cold. ’That’s Infernal Armis. One of the seven artifacts that swim through space-time itself, appearing wherever reality grows thin enough to permit their passage.’

"What kind of artifact?" Meilyn asked, though her military instincts were clearly screaming warnings about the nature of what had just arrived on their world.

I stared out the window toward the distant impact site, my enhanced vision detecting the pillar of otherworldly light that now rose from the crater like a beacon calling to every power-hungry individual on the continent.

"The artifact of Ruin."