With trays, platters, and beers to deliver to plenty of eager customers, Nadia couldn’t stick around to see how her rival liked her food, but she did keep an eye on Juri as she went about her duties, and the rare look of actual joy on the martial artist’s face (before she instinctively suppressed it) told Nadia everything she needed to know. This was the most genuinely happy that she’d ever seen Juri, and though it did rankle the cat burglar somewhat to be doing something nice for her old nemesis, she couldn’t force herself to think that Juri didn’t deserve to be happy sometimes. Maybe if the heterochromatic hooligan wasn’t so miserable all the time, she wouldn’t have to take it out on everyone around her, and the two of them wouldn’t need to be enemies. “Heh, that’s right,” Nadia muttered smugly, a smirk on her face. Not even the most derisive, scornful person she knew could muster up the gumption to deny Bancho’s mastery. “Put me down all you like if it makes you feel better, but you better not disrespect the boss!”
With four Seekers present in the restaurant already, though, Nadia could read the room. Plus, her stomach had been growling for a while, and after coming within inches of so many tantalizing delicacies the poor catgirl was practically drooling. It was time for a well-deserved break. She headed toward Bancho’s prep station, waving for attention. “Hey boss, can I take five? You know what they say: you can tune a guitar, but you can’t tuna fish!” Chuckling to herself, she looked over at Dave. “You got this for a bit, right Dave?”
Her fellow diver was a little red in the face from so much jogging around, but after a deep breath he gave a nod. “Yup, I can handle it. Rush’s starting to die down anyway.”
Bancho grunted his assent. A sushi chef of his caliber could tell what blood belonged to a fish, and what didn’t. Despite Nadia’s spiteful initial plan, he could acknowledge that she went above and beyond when it came to fulfilling his vision. He turned to her, a fresh plate of Hot Pepper Tuna in hand. “Enjoy.”
“For me?” Nadia’s eyes sparkled as she accepted the plate. “Holy mackerel! That right there’s why you’re the basst, boss.”
Dinner in one hand and a tall glass of foamy amber beer in the other, the catgirl seated herself on the opposite side of Rika and Junior from Juri, creating a koopy sandwich (though luckily the two weren’t in bread). Having ordered one of everything on tonight’s menu, the two youths had a mountain of seafood to eat their way through, so if they weren’t careful their stomachs would end up hurting almost as bad as their wallets. Of course, Nadia wolfed down her own food with reckless abandon too; even if the meal left her reeling from the accumulated kick of the habanero peppers, she couldn’t stop herself gobbling up the ultra-fresh fish. It was a miracle she noticed Geralt when he showed up out of the blue. Luckily the Witcher was hard to miss or mistake. When he approached Nadia gave him a wave, her tail flicking happily, and then kept eating.
With the others focused on food first and foremost, it fell to Juri to kickstart the actual conversation, starting with an expository preamble about where she’d been getting her intelligence. While Nadia got the impression that her rival might be hyping herself up a little, she paid attention to what Juri had to say, and it sounded like she’d identified a strong candidate for the Guardian of the Twilight Forest. In the end it was just a guess, but it sounded plausible enough, and it wasn’t like Nadia could offer any better alternatives.
While the feral quenched the flames dancing across her tongue with beer, Geralt reminded her of Blackwater Bay, even if he fumbled the name slightly. Nadia remembered seeing a giant bird, but like the rest of the shipgirls involved in that battle her focus had been on the water. Geralt had been the one to get up close and personal with it, and if he concluded that the two birds must be different, she trusted him. Blackwater Bay was a long, long way from the Twilight Forest, after all, and she couldn’t imagine that Blue Team had unwittingly dealt with another region’s Guardian on the way to confront the Deep Blue Seaside’s own.
Nadia turned her mind toward what she herself had learned during her time here. Truth be told, as much as it galled her, she hadn’t done as well as her rival. The bits and pieces she’d found didn’t add up to any definite conclusions, and she’d been so focused on her duties for Bancho Sushi that she hadn’t mentally prepared herself for this. Thankfully Geralt bought her some time to put it all together with his report about a local counterfeiting operation, which honestly didn’t concern her all that much. The Mafia was always getting up to something or another, and unlike the Medicis they were easy enough to deal with.
During Geralt’s explanation one more friendly face showed up, belonging to Nadia’s friend Therion. The two thieves had always gotten along well, despite their very different personalities. Together they formed a classic comedy duo, though they did their best work together on the battlefield. Out of the two of them Therion was the better burglar, but unlike with his friend Primrose Nadia had never felt jealous of him, and after winning Connected Climbing Chaos together the two were officially thick as thieves. She waved and gave Therion a warm smile.
Once the others finished, Nadia began. “Well, when it comes to Guardians, I got nothin’. But I did hear about Limsa. The other day I actually sailed over myself to see how they’re doing. And yeah, sounds like it’s been a real shipshow. Met up with my friend Heinrich, you know, from the navy? She told me everything, and it’s not the Abyssals again, either. Apparently there’s this big boat that shows up and literally shoots people into the city that go around attacking everyone they see, civilians and shipgirls alike. And get this, Heinrich heard that this huge, hulking lady consul showed up the day it all started. That must be I! A witness said she…killed Admiral Merlwyb.” With that, Nadia’s excited tone quickly tapered off. She hadn’t really gotten to know the lady during her time in Limsa, but she seemed like a capable and well-liked leader. “Guess they’ve been having a hell of a time coordinating city defense without her.” She sighed. “Anyway, these regions all have two consuls, right? So that’s one, actively going after Limsa Lominscuttle Town. The other…I dunno. I hope it’s not our fault…”
Nadia scrunched her brows together, then lifted a cluster of sea grapes to her lips. When she crushed the soft, succulent pods between her teeth, an umami taste filled her mouth. “I also checked out a place called the Tower of Barbs. Seemed like we could get pretty good rewards there if we fought hard. Visited that Argentum barge thing again, and saw Wumpa Island. Nothing much to say about ‘em.” Getting bored, she turned her attention toward Bancho. The Hot Pepper Tuna had been incredible, but for a hyperactive gal like Nadia one sushi dish was never enough. “Hey boss, can I get a Fried Onion Cuttlefish? Sounds like somethin’ that would ten-tickle my fancy.”
“Sure, but this one’s coming out of your salary,” he told her.
Down at the dockside storehouse where the Yokohama Trading Company employees were wrapping up work for the day, one of the side doors burst open suddenly as a man got thrown through and left sprawled out on the creaky boards. It was the man who’d been handling order fulfillment inside the building up at the counter, forking over the deliveries and their associated rebates As he lay there, groaning, a handful of other employees filed out with stony faces and deliberate steps, quickly forming a makeshift perimeter to discreetly passers-by away. That included Captain Falcon, who happened to be tricking nearby. “Hey, delivery boy! Scram!” one of the men barked, arms crossed. “We’re working here, so go fool around somewhere else!”
After another moment, an imposing man in a white suit over a gold-embroidered shirt stepped out. He had side-parted black hair, a soul patch, and a leering grimace. Though somewhat heavy-set, he possessed obvious strength and carried himself with confident authority. If Falcon managed to catch a glimpse of him as he made himself scarce, he would recognize this man based on the description given to him by Zhao: Mabuchi, a man with whom the owner of You Tian evidently had some history. Falcon wouldn’t get much more than that, though, since this group seemed very eager to make sure those in the vicinity all minded their own business. Even the buyers here to do business quietly turned away and shuffled off, leaving Mabuchi and his cohort to themselves.
“You idiot,” the man was snarling. “Just blow the lid on the whole operation, will you? This place isn’t some market stall, and we don’t take orders here, let alone mouth off about our system to strangers! Since you’re so eager to get chummy, maybe we oughta give a little back to the sharks to thank ‘em for all their fins.” He turned to one of the other workers, glowering. “And you, my clumsy little friend. Dropped a couple pons, huh? So nice of that same stranger to help you out…only, you didn’t think to double-check what he handed you, and now the cash is gone so we can’t know for sure. The hell do I pay you for!? If word gets out, our business is done for.”
Mabuchi seemed to be on the verge of blowing his lid, but after taking a deep breath through his teeth, the boss seemed to calm himself down. “Ah, well. Luckily, I’ve got bigger fish to fry. After tonight, things are gonna change around here. That so-called Mafia of cartoon villains will be history, along with anyone else in our way.”
At that moment, the lookout posted by the ocean came running over. “Boss! It’s coming!”
A nasty smile spread over Mabuchi’s face. “Speak of the devil. Get ready, boys.” His employees scrambled to make preparations of some sort. When the gangster stepped back into the storehouse, one of his underlings presented him with his signature weapon, a fearsome guan dao. Mabuchi took it in his hands and ran his thumb along the polearm’s gleaming blade. “Things are about to get interesting.”
While Sectonia confronted Edward and his forces at one of the Ivory Citadel’s towers, Uriel descended on the other like a hawk on a rabbit, swooping down with such speed that none of its horrific defenders had the slightest chance of stopping her. In a streak of holy light she slammed into the ballista, aiming to sever the knotted black cord used to propel the giant skewers through the air, but her
Dawnbreaker sword fell just short as a the corruption drove a heavily-armored Angel Champion to interpose himself in her path, sacrificing himself to momentarily save the ballista and buy the others time. Around her, constructs, Affinities, and infected archers -some so far gone that they were little more than
black mounds with bows- readied themselves for a counterattack. Realizing what had happened as her momentum came to a sudden halt, her blade wedged in her former comrade’s body, Uriel shook her head with a morose click of her tongue.
“Sorry, brother.”
Uriel kicked off him with a flip that freed her blade with one mighty yank, spattering burning corruption on the stone below as the champion toppled backward into the ballista, his stab wound smoldering with the light of dawn. She dropped into the squad of Affinities, landing on one whose head she crushed beneath her heel. Her blade cleaved through another’s leg in a fiery arc, dropping it to one knee, and she wheeled around to slash the polearm of a third in two. With its defense broken, it was powerless to resist as Uriel launched it with an upward slash, then hopped up to carve it in half with an overhead swing. “Foul creatures.” A fourth Affinity attempted to stab her in the back, but Uriel bent backward as if doing the limbo, her wings spread wide. Upside-down, she sent the polearm flying with an upward knee, then plunged her blade through the false angel’s chest and executed a backflip kick to send it stumbling. It bumbled into the fifth and final Affinity, knocking both against the battlement behind them, only for Uriel to bull forward and drive the sword through both of them at once.
As the four corrupted archers nocked their arrows, Uriel whirled around, both dying Affinities still on her blade to act as living shields. Once the arrows finished one off, she kicked the second off her sword with such force that it flew right into one of the archers, sending both sprawling, and the next second the fourth enemy’s weapon fell into her waiting grasp for her to hurl at another archer like a javelin, piercing its body with such force that it tumbled over the tower’s edge. That gave her just enough time to dodge away from the massive slam of a corrupted construct’s stone bludgeon, flattening the crippled Affinity in the process. “Hmph!” Uriel aimed a fiery slash at its wrist to shear through the pitch-black tentacles that operated the construct’s hand, then began to accelerate. She darted around the juggernaut, landing lightning-fast blows that built up searing sunlight. It whipped around with a mighty swing but just missed Uriel as she vaulted overhead, landing on its shoulders just as two more sludgy arrows hit the construct’s chest. “Begone.” A final cleave against the golem’s head triggered Dawnbreaker’s effect, and Uriel leaped clear as the construct exploded in a burst of glittering flame.
That left two archers, another construct, the ballista itself, and the champion as he staggered to his feet, greatsword in hand. Uriel sprinted forward, then slid on her knees beneath the champion’s unstoppable horizontal cleave. That put her directly in the path of an archer’s arrow, but with a swipe of her hand she destroyed the projectile in a burst of gold. She sprang to her feet and retaliated with some magic of her own, a spread-shot of golden stakes that pinned the archer to the battlement behind it and then blew both to smithereens in a blast of holy light. By that time the other construct finished covering its bludgeon with corruption, creating a huge bat spiked with yellow crystals, and it attacked alongside the champion. Uriel sidestepped the overhead slash from the latter, then leaped above a swing from the former. The corruption in the golem festered in its torso like a pot, with its head as lid, so she dropped with a plunging attack to sink her blade deep into the construct’s neck so the Dawnbreaker’s flames could eat away at its insides. She didn’t have enough time to finish it off like this, but she didn’t need to; the minions of the corrupted had already demonstrated total ignorance of the concept of friendly fire, so she could predict what would happen next
She waited for the angel champion to attack, then perfectly timed her dodge away. Aiming for her, her foe slammed his sword into the golem at full force, smashing a hole in its torso that allowed the corruption to flop out. Uriel moved quickly, attacking as many times as possible to build up to a fiery explosion and finish the second golem off. With just two enemies left, she took a second to look around, only to find nothing in the spot where she saw the archer last, and realize that it must have moved when she wasn’t looking. The next instant an arrow slammed into her hip, eliciting a pained grunt as she glared in the direction of the many-eyed archer, but by then the champion was attacking again. Uriel took flight, ripping off the compromised section of her armor as she did, then divebombed the archer to prevent that happening again. Only then did she realize her second mistake: that her maneuver put her directly in front of the ballista’s business end, and to her surprise the corruption-covered siege engine seemed to be operating on its own.
Luckily it wasn’t operating in cohesion with the champion.
The huge angel charged to unleash a massive downward thrust, and Uriel adjusted a few feet to the right. She hopped up in the nick of time and landed on the greatsword just after its tip pierced the ground, then ran up the flat of the blade to deliver a dropkick that knocked the top-heavy angel back once more. This time it fell against the ballista’s barbed bolt, which pierced through its chest. The corruption began to bond with itself, leaving both entities immobilized. Heart racing, Uriel exhaled deeply as she stood up straight. “Vile pestilence,” she spat. “Let us be rid of you.”
She darted forward, slicing with her Dawnbreaker again and again. The champion tried to fight, and the ballista tried to fire, but neither could touch her. As the daylight scars accumulated, the corruption itself seemed to cry out, until with a final flip Uriel hurled a handful of light stakes into the champion’s chest. They burst with a brilliant flash, and the Dawnbreaker effect caused a chain reaction, triggering another, even bigger explosion that destroyed both champion and ballista completely. “What a waste,” Uriel complained, looking to the skies. “Lady Palutena?” She glanced over at the other tower, noticing the short work Sectonia had made of it. “The ballistae are down, and the skies are clear.”
By the time Edward’s explosive trap destroyed the towers, the Hellguard’s captain was already gone.
Within the Ivory Citadel, though, the fighting had reached its peak. The angels and their leaders mowed through the corrupted grunts easily enough, and managed to persevere against both sycophants and ayfids despite the greater challenge, but when it came to the strongest Laguna in the area only the cream of the crop would suffice. Though Edelgard possessed great strength and durability, the Beloved she faced off against wielded its own axe with still more terrifying might, unleashing enormous swings that took advantage of the princess’s one weakness: her short stature and lackluster reach. At just 5’2”, she stood at just a fraction of the Beloved’s height, after all, and when it used a grab attack the doll-faced monster could pick her up like a child’s plaything. Worse still, it possessed the power to summon meteor showers against Edelgard and her angelic squad, hammering entire areas with magic at once to thin their racks. Still, if anyone could fell a mountain like this, it was the Flame Emperor. If she could get through the armor on its back, the large red pustule beneath its marble shell could be its downfall.
Midna and Pit found similarly staunch opposition in the form of Belief. Unlike its counterpart elsewhere in the Ivory Citadel, this Laguna monstrosity did not fight like a human at all. It wielded its snakelike whip arm with bestial ferocity, and when the cherubic faces on its front opened up, it revealed a toothy mouth with a spiked tongue that served as another, even more dangerous lash, and it could spit sticky green slime. It would happily use its arm to hurl chunks of rubble, blobs of corruption, or its own allies, while if it managed to constrict an enemy it could drain health via contact alone. Its opponents made for a potent combination, however, and if they could keep pace with its surprising speed victory was not out of the question.
As Palutena’s army worked through the Ivory Citadel, leaving its once-hallowed halls stained but silent, the second sky island in the corrupted chain began to stir. Once known as Citronpool Harbor, it had been a thriving skyport before the corruption, but now only voiceless horrors shambled through its blighted streets–and labored in its twisted shipyards.
After welcoming Kayna and Primrose to his table, Goldlewis kept things light and casual, splitting his attention between the lightshow down below and his guests. Even with important things to talk about in her absence, Goldlewis had no intention of being rude or rushing the monster rider through her meal, so he did his best to be his typical genial self. Luckily Kayna was very outgoing and easy to talk to, telling the others all about her exploits with exotic creatures throughout the region, as well as interesting sights both within and beyond Meridi-at-han. For the most part, in fact, she only stopped talking when eating, so it didn’t take much effort from Goldlewis to keep the dead air filled. With her help, it turned out to be quite the pleasant little interlude. Her enthusiastic descriptions of various monsters and keen speculations about their behaviors outlasted several plates full of food, but just as Kayna was starting to seem like a bottomless pit, she finally hit her limit and rose from her seat without any further ado.
Goldlewis returned her smile as the young woman bid the others farewell and took off. Seeing a youngster who wore her heart on her sleeve so earnestly filled him with a sort of vicarious joy. With her departure, however, the three Seekers could finally delve into the topic that brought them to the plateau city to begin with: their investigation of the surrounding regions and the high-priority targets therein. The veteran leaned back in his chair as he combed his wind-teased pompadour back into shape, discreetly scanning the tavern as he did. With the sun’s descent behind the horizon, night was setting in, so there weren’t that many more customers hanging around, and none who remained seemed to have any particular interest in Goldlewis or the others. It looked like the three of them were in the clear.
This impromptu meeting didn’t need much preamble–everyone knew why they were here. Primrose went first, offering what she’d managed to glean from the people of -and travelers to- this city. Her findings included several consuls, more details about nearby cities, and even the leadership of Esaka. As she reported one juicy tidbit after another, Goldlewis couldn’t help but be impressed. This dancer certainly had a way with people. Her discoveries almost completely eclipsed his own, since she managed to identify not just Esaka but the legendary quartet who held power there. Given his past experiences, Goldlewis couldn’t help but assume that any big city had consuls pulling the strings, if not outright ruling themselves. Were the Seekers looking at another Midgar situation, where the Guardian lay hidden in -or beneath- the region’s largest city? Then again, maybe that honor belonged to Shinjuku to the south, so he couldn’t be certain.
“I heard mostly the same stuff, but I also caught wind of the Frozen Highlands’ Guardian out west, or so it seems. They say there’s an ornery feller who he wanders the snowy wastes spoilin’ for fights, and he ain’t ever lost ‘cause he’s downright invincible. Don’t matter if it’s blades, bullets, or magic, the sonuvabitch just shrugs it off and keeps on sluggin’. I know all the Guardians y’all fought have been big ol’ monsters so far, but what better Guardian than one who’s invincible?” He stroked his whiskers, eyes narrowing. “Course, that presents somethin’ of a problem for us in an’ of itself, I reckon.”
It sounded like Primrose hadn’t fared much better than himself when it came to the City That Never Was, but the tale she told about the Transmission made it seem even scarier. That place would be a tough nut to crack, so hopefully the eggheads aboard the Avenger figured something out.
Before Roland could get into what he learned, a strange phenomenon began to actively disrupt the conversation. For some time now there had been intermittent rumbles, causing ripples in customers’ cups and slight clatter among the plates and silverware, but the shakes had been so minor that Goldlewis dismissed them as nothing worth worrying about. Now, though, the tremors had grown more frequent and much more intense, enough to be felt every other second. Confused and a little worried, the veteran rose to his feet, looking around for a source of the disturbance. This spot overlooking the market district afforded him a great view of the city center, but try as he might he couldn’t see any plausible explanation. “Some kinda earthquake?” he muttered.
After a moment, lights and sounds brought his eyes to the big top of the Grimm Troupe. Their tent had been ghoulish throughout the ongoing show, the frenzied flames and swooping shadows cavorting like demons from hell, stirred to madness by a wild symphony of unknown instruments played with frightful strength. It almost seemed like the swelling performance mirrored the intensification of the shockwaves, and suddenly Goldlewis recalled the ominous whispers about the Grimm Troupe portending disaster.
Apparently a number of civilians, alarmed by the tremors, had made that connection too, and the city guards seemingly agreed. Goldlewis could see that a number of them had gathered near the tent, prepared to charge into the chaos and bring the troupe’s act to a stop. But before they could intercede, disaster struck–only, it seemed to have struck the Troupe itself, for their big top was on fire. The dance of scarlet flames stopped cold, and the music vanished with startling suddenness, quickly replaced by the pandemonium of people yelling, shoving, and running for their lives. Something had gone horribly wrong.
“Hmph,” Goldlewis grunted, reaching down. With one giant mitt he seized the chain attached to the massive coffin by the table, which he hefted over his shoulder. When he knocked on its lid, it cracked open just wide enough to admit a blue glow and an elongated arm that reached down and laid enough zenny on the table to cover the veteran’s meal. “It’s always something, ain’t it,” he groused. “Let's lend ‘em a hand.”
As he gathered himself to vault over the railing, however, Goldlewis noticed something. Even after the performance of the Grimm Troupe stopped, the ground continued to shake, the tremors growing louder and stronger still. That realization gave him pause as he looked around again. If the bugs weren't to blame for the disturbance, who was…?
After a moment, the noisy report of an instrument rang out over the chaos, but it didn’t belong to the Troupe. Instead it was the horn of the city guard, resounding from the direction of the southern gate. When Goldlewis turned to look, he was shocked to see a giant shape rising above the buildings, dimly silhouetted against the purple clouds by the last rays of the setting sun. “What in tarnation!?” It was a head, and it belonged to an ape of immense size, a three-story giant with sharp teeth, grown fur, and a disproportionately large head. With one mighty heave
George climbed into Meridi-at-han, hitting the ground with a tremendous slam that shook foundations, rattled windows, and tore screams from the crowds of citizens as panic filled the streets. As if that wasn’t enough, two more giant monsters were scaling the plateau city even now: the green-scaled crocodilian
Lizzie and a fang-toothed blue wolf,
Ralph. All three began to go on a rampage, pounding the buildings around them and swatting or even eating civilians. Luckily, most of the horrified circus-goers were already out of the burning tent by now, and as they fled the guards rushed over to try and keep the monsters busy.
As the crowd scattered, Grimm himself emerged from the burning tent at a leisurely pace. With the real culprits behind the quake revealed, the Troupe had been all but forgotten, and the immolation of their tent was a foregone conclusion. Brumm and the others were already scrambling to move the wagons beyond the reach of the hungry tongues of flame. Unfortunately for the witch, protecting the Procession of Shadows and the Nightmare Lantern within was the Troupe’s number-one priority, more important than their tent, their show, their guests, or even their own lives. In addition to the weevil-like Grimmstead that pulled it, three more bugs stood between the scheming sorceress and her prize, all shrouded in volumes of black cloth. Two wielded curved swords and one a mace, but all bore torches of scarlet flame.
Behind Grimm, meanwhile, followed a crowd of his Grimmkin, torches in hand, and his scarlet gaze fixed on the rampaging monsters. After a moment black claw extended from beneath his cloak, and the ringmaster snapped his fingers.
”Let us give our new guests a warm welcome.”At his razor-sharp whisper the Grimmkin took flight, loosed upon the waking world like vengeful spirits. They spread out over the monsters’ heads, well our of reach, and hurled scarlet fireballs. Grimm himself bowed toward the giant ape, then threw open his cloak. A handful of firebats flew through the dusk to explode against George’s hairy back, setting him alight. But when the ape wheeled around with an angry bellow, he found no trace of whoever burned him. George beat his chest, and his roar shook the city.
Of course, by the time Grimm took the field, the Seekers were already in motion. Goldlewis unleashed a small tremor of his own as he landed on the terrace beneath the tavern, his coffin slung over his back. The big top was beyond saving, but the heroes could still fight for the people. “Alrighty then, folks,” he called to the others. In addition to Grimm Troupe and the Sun Guard, he found a number of armed adventurers trickling in from throughout the city to aid in Meridi-at-han’s defense. Seeing Ralph nearby, he took off running. “Let’s take ‘em out!”
