I Knew It! It Was You All Along!

After five days, the boys had made stunning progress and happily showed off their wares.

“Thanks to you, my beam rifle now fires at twice its original rate and hits at 50% damage above original rates.” Fuuma swung it around. It had a nice sheen to it.

“My rifle is this 25mm snub-nosed machine cannon with a feeding belt, a tripod for stationary aiming, and an 80 rounds per minute firing rate. It weighs 60 kilos with ammo, taking another 20. He’s a big bouncy boy, he is.”

“Let’s test them on the range.”

The two made their mark down the hallway and unleashed a hell so strong their target dummies didn’t half top halves anymore. They were potent. The two high-fived.

“This is awesome! I can’t wait to show Kuroni what I pulled off! She’ll be so proud of me.”

“Huh, I guess I should’ve made some for the others. Maybe I could give them the prototypes.” There were many lying about the tables. On a second look, even Dige wouldn't touch them. “We should return to our comrades.”

Fuuma sighed, wishing he could continue the creative process alone, but his hunger called. He needed food. But first, it was time to organize. The two could reach into their realms on a whim, and Fuuma’s industriousness taught Dige a lot. Neat table rows for each weapon, placed neatly for easy grip and extra ammo nearby. Debris was swept, and excess material was returned to its rightful shelves. An organized realm was a healthy realm. 

“It was so great to work with a sharp mind like you, Dige. It almost makes me wish we could get another week like this.”

“Well, I’m not too busy, so there’s time. Let’s go kick some ass, boy!”

Fuuma smiled, and with a whisk of his hand, the two returned not far from their leaving point, up the mountain by the lake.

They were face-to-face with a demon the size of a house, staring down at them with confusion followed by pure hatred. It took the entire slow wind of its swing for Dige to unlock his cannon and take out its kneecap. Its hand and head followed next, though not after a few misses from the recoil. Dige stood shaking but invigorated.

“I think I need something for me feet.”

The lake had devolved into chaos. Though not a mob of monsters as seen before, it was a roving band, theoretically smarter than the waves below and twice as strong. There was less direct combat and more of a running battle across the water, where the party at hand was in a full sprint from black creatures twice their size, swinging their weapons whenever they got close. It took them a full lap until the party was back where they started. Dige and Fuuma laid down the firepower.

“Master, you’re back!” Tama latched onto him. “Please give me back my gun! They’re too big to cut!”

“Tama, I’m trying to shoot!” The two were almost stomped by a minotaur before Dige shot its spine out. “You wanna fight? Here!”

Fuuma reached into his realm and provided Tama’s wiregun, and the joy on her face was unparalleled. The boy got a kiss on the forehead, which annoyed him, and within seconds, the number of demons around the lake began to decrease drastically. Melee weapons on larger targets had proven to be unwieldy. Only Mars had the toughness to go 1 to 1 with such beasts. Artemis could theoretically contend if his magic was actually useful, and Gunch could outmaneuver them if he was anywhere near the battle. No, modern problems require modern solutions. The ninjas, and now Dige, could provide that solution.

Within fifteen minutes, the large demons were an assortment of giblets across the once lovely scenic view, and the four non-heroes could finally sit down and relax. 

“Alright, what happened?” Fuuma asked.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing happened?”

“Nope. Just monsters.”

“I highly doubt that. Was it either of you two?”

“It wasn’t us, master,” Tama grumbled. “It was the boy in the star cloak.”

All eyes were on Artemis, who went white as a sheet.

“Look, I didn’t mean to! I was just looking for food down the mountain and-.”

“Ran back with a pack of demons.”

“They were already coming up! The mountain!... Okay, that was a lie. They were just taking the usual path to the battle.”

“Battle?” Dige perked an eyebrow. “Is that what I’m hearing?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s right over there.”

The heroes took a moment to look down and see the battle of epic proportions unfolding beneath them. Not only were they fighting the demons they just encountered, but those double or even triple their size, big lumbering beasts no normal man could handle, and yet the heroes down there were holding the line with magic and spells that dwarfed even their capabilities. The sisters felt small by comparison.

“They have to be max level by now,” Fuuma said. “I’m starting to get jealous.”

Dige scoffed. “Jealous of what? We have firepower! Isn’t that enough?”

“Maybe.” Though numbers didn’t lie. Even he was subject to them. “What do you think, Kuroni? Did I do a good job?”

The older sister kept her distance. Her papergun was well kept in her hands, ready to fire, but her eyes were off somewhere else. Fuuma thought he had offended her.

"This is getting out of hand," she muttered. "They need us down there. No, we have to find that general!"

“If we want to get more kills,” Dige sauntered off. “We can go back down to that path and smash ‘em from behind. Boys, are you willing to join me and my new friend?”

“Hell no!” Artemis yelled.

Fuuma raised his finger, halting everyone. That path. It bothered him like nothing else. The paths to the city, always the same spot, never changing, never adjusting. Demons managed to get up the mountain without even trying. There were way more access points into the city. The underground was littered with even more access points, able to hit Fargo from underneath. What was there to gain from endless waves of chaff into the demigods the parties were becoming? At what point was the meat grinder its own goal? Did the enemy want them to get stronger?

“Hey!” A voice shouted out, and the former king and his men rushed their way up the steps. “What are you doing up here!?” But then he blinked, and in an instant the greasy black haired man went dull and monotone. “What are you doing up here?”

“Huh?” Dige said. “What are you doing up here?”

There was a long, empty silence between both parties as they stared blankly at each other. A strange tenseness filled the air.

“Leave. You’re interfering with the waterways.”

“We haven’t done anything,” Tama huffed. “We’re heroes in case you forgot.”

“Guards, kill them.” The king looked back. No one was moving. They were aware of the last attempt on this party’s life. “Alright, then I ask you to leave. You may travel elsewhere.”

“But, what about the battle? What about all that!? Can't we help!?”

“Guards,” Artemis peeked in. “Are you sure that your king isn’t trying to actively sabotage you? He’s been very suspicious ever since we got here.”

This was true, but again, their past struggle had them actively dislike the party. They stepped forward.

“Do not try to set my men against me. I would annihilate them in an instant.”

“You couldn’t even kill us,” Mars belched.

“I think the king’s gone crazy,” Tama sniffed. “He was much nicer when we first met him. All this stress of the war has gotten to him.”

Fuuma stepped forward. “The demons have found a way to get up here. We have to make sure that they don’t use this opportunity to flank us!”

“No. You can go. I don’t want you here.”

The team was about ready to pull their hair out. For five days, they had been on the search for this demon general, all while armageddon was approaching the city, and what did they get for it? Further exile? A backwards, unwilling city? They knew the king wasn’t the general. It would’ve been obvious at this point, but what point would they have to reach to understand this insanity? Where was the demon general? When would this frustration end?

Dige answered by shooting an arm-sized hole into the king’s chest. He was dead on the spot.

“Dige!”

“Dwarf!”

“I didn’t like him," he muttered. "Should’ve done it a week ago.”

But the king was still standing, and despite his windpipe being severed, he still drew breath.

“Thank you,” he whispered with a smile on his face. He looked positively serene. “I was so worried this day would never come.”

“Vladamor," Fuuma reached out. That was really him.

“I only wish you did it sooner.” A black hair-like tendril slithered out of the king’s ear, slowly turning him white and corpse-like. “I was so tired of this fucking puppet.”