The limited numbers, the power differentials, and the confined space of battlefields in the Abyss usually meant that warfare in the magical world took place between a dozen or maybe a few hundred individuals at once. To date, the only battle with thousands involved that John had partaken in had been during the Five Days War against a faction whose doctrine was uniquely focused on large, decently equipped numbers. Since then, the largest gathered army he had seen had been that of the Golden Rose, although the invasion force of the Lake Alliance may have been similar in its overall capacity.

Therefore, seeing about a thousand guards in ten square formations was still an impressive sight to John. Sure, them being NPCs with the intellect of an average house fly made it less intimidating, but an army was an army and the order, if nothing else, was awe-inspiring. Although the armour they wore was fundamentally the same as that of the guard that had jailed them, their variety of helmets covered the entire head. All of them were the exact same size and build. It was the peak of lazy set design. It also helped cement the organized feeling of an army.

“What level are we looking at?” Metra asked, while she and John stood at the top of the hill. They hadn’t entered the aggro range of the army yet and so the NPCs just stood there like pillars, waiting for something to set them off.

“Exactly 50, universally,” the Gamer responded. What would have been the strongest army in the real world was just another dungeon encounter for them. “Looks like a good place to let loose, Miss Breaker of Armies. Maybe you can finally show me that Entropy Arena.”

“Do you want me to be out of commission for two weeks?” she asked and looked around. “Plus, there is no salt water around.”

“Maybe you won’t need it anymore? That was an aspect of Tiamat, after all.”

Metra hesitated, her face turning blank. “Could be that I can’t even use it anymore,” she realized. “That power was granted by Mother Chaos.” Pleadingly, she looked at John. “Can you get Undine over here?”

Nodding, the Gamer reached out to his abysstide elemental. A short mental conversation ensued, ending with Undine suddenly appearing next to him. Metra raised an eyebrow. “We are doing nothing unusual for the next three days, the teleport cooldown doesn’t matter,” he explained. Realistically, there was actually something on Monday that his paranoia demanded he kept the cooldowns ready for. Soothing an antsy Metra was of a much higher priority than his overinflated sense of caution.

Creating a puddle of saltwater for the ancient weapon to stand in only took about two minutes of digging and conjuring. It didn’t have to be deep or large, which made John wonder what exactly the delineating requirements for the Stat boost of Tiamat’s Scale had been. At which level of salinity did the water count as salt water?

John had no time to consider this and other questions. Instead, he watched Metra’s expression go from blank, to concentrated, to desperate, in the span of several seconds. “Yeah, no, it’s gone,” she finally exclaimed with a long sigh.

He hated that one of the first things he thought when hearing that was: ‘So I’ll never get to see that power in action. Annoying.’ The tactless curiosity was swiftly pushed aside by the concerned lover. “You doing fine?”

“Honestly, it should bother me the least of these changes,” the First or Wrath said and reached up to her ears. “I rarely needed to use that power. It just… feels like I cut something out of my life.” She swung the halberd back on her shoulder and stepped out of the puddle. “No use crying about it. Ultimately, I needed to separate myself from Mother, right?”

“Yeah,” John agreed in an unhappy tone.

Metra punched him on the shoulder and smiled. “Don’t get sad for me, misery ain’t my style. Plus…,” she directed her eyes back to the army, “…I got a lot of opportunities to work through this.”

With those words, the ancient weapon began her march down the hill. Undine and John stood still where they were, only watching as the Astrotium plates surfaced on Metra’s skin. The clothes she wore were automatically transported to John’s inventory before they could be torn by the transformation.

Segment for segment, the lead-like metal appeared, covering every bit of her in an armour whose appearance instinctively invoked a malicious feeling. Red lines appeared all over the dark grey metal, interrupting the tiny gaps between the individual segments. Spikes, large enough to be a deterrent to any grappling attempts, appeared over her joints. Especially pronounced were those on her shoulders, transforming any tackle into a deadly skewer. Previously, such thorns would also have appeared on her head, but only a stylized encasing of her new wolf ears was visible there now. Her tail turned from gold into a plain grey, the fur consolidating into several thick strands. The claws of her gauntlets were more pronounced than before. The red additions and modular design gave the armour an almost futuristic look.

Once the helmet closed completely, the green of her eyes turned into a light that flowed behind her movements, its brightness showcasing that her powers were active. Any attempt from any ally to help would now deactivate them, leaving her without her anger-fuelled Stat boosts.

“I know none of you actually exist,” the Breaker of Armies’ voice reverberated metallically from her helmet, “yet I will gladly guide you to the afterlife.”

One aggressive step forward, and Metra dug her feet into the side of the hill. Rex Magnar screamed with lust for slaughter, extended behind its wielder as she charged forwards. With each step she picked up more speed, until the light of her eyes left behind a verdant streak.

Even if the NPCs had any thought in their artificial heads, they would have been unable to raise their shields in time. The square regiment in the center of the five in the front row was blasted apart like a piece of driftwood hit by a bullet. Bodies flew upwards in a manner that objects of that weight shouldn’t have. The ones that managed to keep standing were, without doubt, worse off.

Metra whirled her weapon around, effortlessly cutting through armour, flesh and bone, like it was all nothing more than water – a simple obstacle that slowed her swing down. Without regard for their life, the NPCs swarmed towards her location, each of the regiments moving to encircle her position and then gradually dissolving to throw more people at her.

John and Undine retreated, not wanting to set off any people to attack them instead. It shouldn’t have counted to disabling Metra’s ability, since they were different enemies entirely. More important than that was to leave the First of Wrath to have her fun.

Had it not been for the fact that the guards despawned shortly after getting killed, a behaviour inconsistent from the rest of this artificial Adventure, the ancient weapon would have been surrounded by mountains of corpses within a couple of minutes.

With immense brutality, she sliced and cleaved apart her enemies. No sword even touched her armour to test its mettle. The Breaker of Armies moved too fast. Surrounded on all sides, the swings of her halberd cleared the space around her. In a lull in the steady combat, shorter than a second, she drew her arm back and tossed Rex Magnar. Charged up lightning was released from the weapon as it cut a bloody trench through the mass of bodies.

The tide of bodies from all other directions did not let up. Not that Metra had ever needed a weapon to defend herself. Hurling her fist at the first guard that stepped up to her, she caved the helmet in. One movement flowed into the next, the excess force of the punch transforming into the turn of a roundhouse kick, going into a backwards elbow and from there into a flying knee. If the force of the attack didn’t make each delivery lethal, the sharp features of her armour most certainly did.

Deadly as she remained with hands and feet, she could not kill the enemies faster than they charged at her with her limbs alone. Before the horde could collapse on her, she vanished. The air where she had been was torn open, the portal collapsing after she emerged next to Rex Magnar. Loaded with magic, the halberd had torn open the portal for her moments before it landed.

Metra was now to the right of the gathered army on the wavy landscape, and like the mindless drones they were, all of them chased after her. All formations were broken now, too many had been lost already.

The previous engagement had resembled a meat grinder. Metra standing her ground to a one-directional assault was like watching a conveyer belt of the damned. Raised swords fell, raised shields were cleaved, moving bodies stopped, the First of Wrath never stopped. Fury directed by will ended one NPC after the other with savage grace, until the last had their spine separated from their hips in a final swing.

‘I do kind of care about the setting,’ the Gamer thought, while turning around. In the graveyard they had left behind, the mausoleum quivered. Once, twice, three times, then the entire stone structure on the surface exploded and a massive zombie burst out, screaming, “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!”

Drawing a cloud of rock dust after him, the absolute giant of an undead man trampled over the graveyard. Even Romulus would have looked small next to the being, who was remarkably well-preserved. His build was that of a truly powerful man, not the lean, muscular appearance superhumans often assumed, but one whose limbs and gut were covered in a layer of fat, elevating the already broad build to truly hulking levels. A gash across the chest showed how the creature may have died, tattered armour still clad his legs, and the red eyes in the bloodless skull glowed red.

The monstrosity was level 460, the same as John currently. It also reminded him a lot of one of his favourite champions in League of Legends, Sion, but that was neither here nor there. Important was only that he stayed where he was, while this unit of an undead made his way towards him.

Only to abruptly stop when Rex Magnar came flying towards him.

The zombie warrior crossed his arms in defence. While the spear tip of the halberd still managed to penetrate the lifeless flesh, it did not do so with the ease it had torn through the armour. Metra came right after her weapon, but was surprised by the zombie fully ignoring the weapon stuck in his arm and instead raising both his hands, bringing them down just in time to hammer the flying First of Wrath into the ground.

A pummelling of earth-shattering proportions followed. Size and speed were two things the hulk possessed and the barrage of flying fists drove Metra deeper and deeper into the dirt, creating cracks all around them.

One punch sunk deeper than the others, the arm that was aimed at the ground appearing next to the still lodged halberd, causing the monstrosity to punch itself. While a limb was far from a vital spot, especially on an undead, it bought Metra enough time to shoot out of her disadvantageous position and punch the enraged zombie in the jaw.

Too angry to spend any time confused, the undead grabbed Metra by the leg as his head was flying backwards. Immediately he smashed her down on the floor. Equally furious, Metra did what, given the size relations involved, boggled the mind and pulled back her lower body with such force that she lifted up the zombie hulk. One backwards roll was all she needed to slam the abomination on his own back.

The zombie let go. Metra jumped on her feet faster than he did. Tearing Rex Magnar out of his arm, she distanced herself to strike with the long weapon. An arm swiping in her direction forced her to jump. Halfway on his feet, the zombie tried to tackle her while she was still in the air. Tearing a hole in the air under her, she managed to kick through, delivering a stomp to the undead’s shoulder that both elevated her higher and brought his charge to a stumbling stop.

Metra landed on the broad back of the blue-skinned hulk. With the scream of a furious warlord, the undead warrior threw her off, straightening his back. All of the gashes across his body and his eyes intensified in their crimson glow.

On her feet a couple metres away, Metra waited as the glowing warrior turned to her. There was a moment of silence and respect between them.

‘Is that actually just another NPC?’ John wondered at this point. ‘If it is, Gaia put way more work into it than the rest… Observe doesn’t imply anything else.’

The opponents got into battle stances. Both took one step. Then the fury of their souls translated into the raw aggression of carnage and they went at each other. Brutality and elegance found a terrifying equilibrium in the exchange of blows between the two veterans of war. Physically they were equally matched, wrath elevating them, and the hulk’s size eliminated the range disadvantage from a lack of weaponry.

However, Rex Magnar’s material and enchantment gave Metra a clear advantage. The prismatic weapon cut through the undead flesh, adding gashes to ancient scars. When Metra realized the full width of the weapon's advantage, she threw it away.

The sound of drums and shredding guitars was raw jubilation, underlining the fight continuing as a flurry of clashing fists. Knuckles crashing, armour segments rattling, flesh tearing, bones creaking, ground trembling, mouths screaming, pushing their tireless bodies to the very edge of their capability.

Then the zombie’s body broke.

The plated fist of Metra slammed into the much larger one of the undead warrior; the shock of the impact rippled up the arm and blasted the bone out of the shoulder socket. The battle of endurance decided, Metra gathered the last of her mana to reach through space once more and grab Rex Magnar by the hilt.

A dislodged arm did not mean that the undead could no longer move his arm, but it did slow him enough that one side was now open enough for Metra to prepare a devastating swing. John could see the weight of the weapon increasing via its enchantments, while plasma and lightning crackled out from the spiked side of the head. Within a fraction of a second, the crackling ramped up to a propelling burst of energy, working along Metra’s swing.

The zombie launched himself at Metra one last time, trying to deliver a punch with his good arm. Mere centimetres before he could succeed, Rex Magnar severed the head from his shoulders. The dismembered skull went flying. The weapon slammed into the ground with such force that the battle-scarred graveyard turned into a crater of upturned soil.

John almost lost his balance from the tremors. Undine’s presence did not help. Massively distracting as it was after the intense battle, watching a slime girl in an earth quake was equally amusing and erotic. Her entire body jiggled, especially her large tits, and it just made for an all-around unusual sight.

When the tremors ended and the dust settled, John saw one silent Metra stand over the disintegrating corpse of the zombie hulk. Segments of her armour had been twisted and shoved out of their proper place, many gaps filled up with dirt that fell to the ground as she returned to her every day form, completely naked. Green eyes filled with various emotions, all of them positive, immediately found John, while the Kingdom around them dissolved like the corpse had.

“Worked through your problems?” John shouted over.