Knights Apocalyptica

Chapter 119: Daddy Issues

Erec stalked down the broken road, past the worn-away buildings and discarded trash from the world before. Behind him and Colin were Dame Robin and the Duke, following them at a leisurely pace through the outskirts of Worth. Ever pragmatic, they’d set aside part of the scouting operation to turn it into a practical lesson. The initiates would lead exploration for the next two hours upon Dame Robin's orders.

After the frustrating sensation of failing to find any signs of other humans throughout the day, it only left Erec more annoyed. Each day they didn’t find anything; life would only get more complicated. It was already difficult to convince the Pendragons not to enter the city.

With them waiting for results, the situation was a ticking bomb.

Their relationship with the mercenaries was paramount, too, since these people would provide a proper introduction to Vega for the Knights. Anything that jeopardized that was of great concern, including irritation from both sides. The Verdant Oak was supposed to be good at this type of thing.

“Let me lead,” Colin commanded, careful to keep his voice down.

It’d only been a single block since Dame Robin passed them the reins. Erec turned around to see his friend looking anywhere but at him, with his arms crossed.

“…You sure?”

“Of course, I’m not. But I will lead,” Colin pushed past him and then immediately kept glancing into every corner with a fresh set of paranoid eyes. It reminded Erec of his first time on these streets; they were slowly winding into the denser part of the city. Which meant there were more alleys and piles of rubble for monsters to hide in. While traversing urban landscapes, one had to watch for rusted cars and open cracks. Anything evil might lurk. At any second, something could leap out with its sharp fangs and tear out a throat. “Goddess-damned place. Why do we even care for some petty criminals anyway? We don’t need these savages.”

“They have connections, and warm introductions are important. Or so Garin says. Besides, I’d like to have a chat with Seven-Snakes again. Show him how different I am now that I’m not tied up after being bashed by a giant.”

“Revenge? How uncultured—“ Colin stopped, his voice cutting off with pure panic. With a gesture, he motioned for Erec to stop talking.

As Erec trained his ears, suddenly on alert, he heard it. A shrill, almost imperceptible whistle came from everywhere around them. Ephemeral, and were he not paying full attention, it would’ve gone right by him.

Nothing like anything he’d heard before.

Neither of them moved for a long while, and the whistle disappeared. Whatever made it was likely far off, and there weren’t signs of anything near. Hesitant but knowing that they couldn’t sit in the middle of the road forever, Colin pushed forward again. This wasn’t the first unknown howl they’d run into within the dead city. Each one was a reminder that while humans no longer lived here, other things still called it home.

“Uh… Anyways, this shall get my father to praise me. I’m sure of it. Once I lead competently, he’ll finally give me room to breathe again.” As if reinforced by his own words, Colin upped his pace, blazing down the street a little too fast.

“That’s why you wanted to lead, to impress him?”

“Of course. If I’d let you lead the entire time, I’d have been given a lecture about not pulling my weight. It’s always been like this; I could see it in his eye whenever he was home. That judgment. It’s never enough for him! Why can’t he accept that I’m not a perfect clone of him—Damn it, I try!” Colin’s voice was rising, and Erec tensed.

Behind him, he could see the Duke and Dame Robin. How much had they heard? Not to mention, who knew what else was listening?

“Whoa—okay. Alright. I know you try, and you’ve been doing well since getting to the Academy. He can’t see that, alright? Let's relax and count to ten—“

“No! I’ve had it. I’ll never be enough to match a hero like him. It will not satisfy him unless I slay a White Stag or slaughter a Rot Behemoth. I’m a failure to his legacy. One without a Divine Talent or any indication that it’ll change soon; no matter what I do, it won’t be enough! So why do I bother trying anymore!”

Colin chose the worst time to break down and upped his speed once again, storming forward down the street. In a fit of pure anger, his friend kicked a nearby stone, sent it flying into a wall ahead, and yelled out in rage.

“Colin!”

“Enough! Let us just find these damn heathens. If we’re successful, maybe that might get him to at least say ‘good job’ for once in my life!”

That shrill noise cut through the air again, far more blatant than before. There was no mistaking it. Erec turned to signal the Senior Knights to group up—but they weren’t there. A wall of reflective liquid metal cut off the rest of the street; as he turned to run, the wall expanded around them, closing them off in sudden darkness. The whistling dominated the space, and Erec’s eyes went wide.

“Fuck,” Erec said, turning in place and yanking his hatchet from his side.

Luckily, Colin conjured a light that lit up their section of the street, saving them from the darkness. The light revealed that the liquid metal was in a bubble around them, a wall of reflections no matter where they looked—trapping them on a section of the street complete with a wreck of a car.

“Oh Goddess, why!” Colin screamed and conjured a second glyph. Without any hesitation, he hurled a ball of flame at the barrier, only for the flame to bounce off it and fly right back at him. Erec tackled his friend, narrowly avoiding the rebound attack as it flew over their backs.

“Careful,” Erec said, climbing back to his feet. He spun in place, his heart hammering.

Everywhere. He saw himself everywhere around him, him standing above Colin, an almost infinite number of them stretched out over an endless stretch of road.

“Get up.” Erec ordered, already feeling the fire flare inside.

This wasn’t like the minor monsters they’d slew today. Everything inside him screamed that this fight had that lethal edge he craved. The more otherworldly the monster, the more a threat it could present. Normal physical monsters didn’t offer much danger unless they were far up the ladder. There wasn’t a delusion he could tackle everything that came his way, but most things gave enough warning for him to try to run if he could.

But the most significant dangers were the sliest or most eldritch of monsters, doubly so if they worked off mechanisms, he couldn’t overpower to run or fight.

Colin returned to his feet; that was all Erec needed before he charged the metal-like bubble. Fury burned bright and took more of a hold as he let out a proper war cry. With his first swing, he’d put in as much as he could after such a short warm-up, intending to end this fight in a swift and decisive blow before it began and presented any hidden dangers. Erec swung his hatchet into the barrier.

Before the edge hit the surface, the bubble bulged outward. A shape similar to his axe caught the hatchet from the side and batted it away. Erec growled, then his reflection bulged out of the reflective surface, stepping free from the bubble. Without thinking, Erec tossed a fist at the oncoming abnormality, but the reflection—now a bulging copy of himself halfway out of the wall—caught his fist. A second hand left the bubble and punched into Erec’s gut, throwing him seven feet back and denting his Armor.

Erec rolled as he tumbled, ending up back on his feet to stare at the now-revealed monster.

A copy of himself. The same style of Armor, even his weapons. It was busy pulling the battle axe off its back; the only real difference was the quality of the steel and the lack of paint and color. Its cloak was like a flowing metal pane at its back. A pure metal-like doppelganger birthed from the bubble.

Naturally, Erec did the first thing that came to mind. He pivoted and pulled his hatchet as far back as he could, pulled more from Fury, then gave his whole body to the single act of tossing the weapon, sending it flying with unnerving precision. With a profoundly satisfying thunk, it embedded into the mimic. The fake version of himself backpedaled with the sudden force as a transparent ooze bled from the gash where his hatchet embedded.

If it bled, it could die.

The thing began to deflate as more transparent liquid poured from it, and the shrill whistle around them intensified. But that only stoked the flames of war higher. Erec laughed and pulled the battle axe free from his back.

[DUCK]

Operating on pure instinct as the adrenaline began to pump through him, Erec dropped low.

An axe swung above his head—right where his skull had been.

Erec turned while crouching; another duplicate was already winding up for another attack. Those flames inside him burned brighter at the challenge, so he sprang up, ramming his head into the mimic’s chest, taking it down, and landing him on top.

Sensing a kill, he scrambled to land his battle axe on the prone enemy; but its weapon intercepted the blow. He faced an impasse even with all of Erec’s Strength pressing down against it.

His axe would move no further. It was strong enough to stop the blow.

[By Dan, it’s exerting the same force as you.]

Bullshit.

Erec yelled and let Fury burn him; the stalemate broke as it surged through his veins. His axe pushed down and through the defense, slashing into the outer shell of the mimic and spilling more transparent lifeblood over the ground; it deflated like a balloon as he cut into it. Victorious, Erec pulled back from the attack.

[Left!]

Erec jerked to the left at the command, narrowly dodging a hatchet from a mimic; he did a circle, eyes wide as he took stock of the situation.

There were three copies of himself. One of them was pulling itself free from the bubble. He could see a ghost of where they intended to go—they all honed in on him, planning to take him down. But there weren’t just his copies; two fake versions of Colin were near the edge of the battleground, tossing spells out at the Duke’s son. Colin took refuge under a chunk of rusted and twisted metal, thankfully not getting hit by the wayward magic.

The last copy of Erec birthed itself from the membrane, its eyes glowing red.

[They copy their targets at the time of creation. With each copy, the density of the barrier appears to be decreasing. I wonder what the fight outside is shaping up to be; regardless, it’s clear already that the more you rely on Fury, the stronger your copies will become.]

Erec’s eyes landed on Colin again, pinned down by spells. The mimics only had an interest in the one they were formed by.

This was a pure fight against himself, and that thrill made him grin as more heat ran through his blood. He could work with this. Let it put up the best fight it could because he’d find a way to slaughter this monster like the rest.