Unchosen Champion-Chapter 369: The Four Horsemen

Marcus leapt from the bow of a phantom ship as soon as the crew beached the vessel just beyond the docks of Ghost Reef. He was aiming for the soft white sand that defined the chain of islands he called home, though he fell a bit short, splashing into the warm shallow water before he eclipsed the low tide line. He kept a binder full of his personal notes safely tucked beneath one arm and his unique scepter firmly gripped in the other, still dripping with golden liquid flames.

His eyes were wide open as he scanned the shore for unexpected threats while a few fellow diplomats splashed around him, their fingers shifting on the hilts of various weapons in apprehension. The journey back had been fraught with new demonic monsters and he was still on high alert, even after multiple days of combat leaving scars on his skin.

He only let the energy fade from his weapon after he concluded that there didn’t seem to be any enemies breaching so deep into their territory. Instead, he spotted squads of human and phantom hunters, diligently protecting the island as if everything was under control.

“That’s a good sign.” He whispered to himself, concluding that any surprises had been successfully weathered by the defenders. “Thank goodness.”

However, the characteristically calm atmosphere of the settlement was nowhere to be found. Instead, the air was filled with signs of activity. The usual tranquility that distinguished the island was displaced by the urgency of action. Vacation was clearly on hold.

Thankfully, compared to the untamed world, Ghost Reef was still a bastion of stability. The organized chaos was evidence of their diligence rather than the onset of panic. More importantly, the mana itself was under control, barely more corrosive than the tang of salt in the air.

The first to greet the new arrivals was an adventurer with a red cross painted on his helmet. He had rushed from the fort, leaving a group of others who were similarly decorated behind.

“I’m fine, check the others.” Marcus ordered before the man could stop and prioritize him due to his leadership position.

Elsewhere, sailors were loading onto ships, carrying supplies and making last minute preparations before setting off to their assigned locations. Other vessels, like the one that had carried the settlement’s Viceroy, were constantly arriving, sliding onto both beaches of the island. Even more that didn’t need immediate attention stopped early, where the sandbars provided shallow areas for the boats to settle and the crafters to conduct their work.

The various residents rushed to greet each ship, like the team of medics, while others started repairs, all utilizing the magic that had failed to be stolen from them even before the passengers had fully disembarked. None of the ships that came from outside were free of damage, but they all remained seaworthy, having been built with battle in mind.

Oddly, the biggest change that Marcus noticed about his home was not the frantic activity or the refashioned atmosphere, it was the lack of Primal Constructs. The Ancient Defenders that had become part of the background along their beach were absent, leaving a void that caught him by surprise. Would he actually miss those little guys?

He shook the feeling off and turned back to pay respect to the ship that had survived the early start of the Eradication Protocol with him on board. A pair of engineers inspected the largest of the breaches, already holding up planks of unenhanced wood, marking them with chalk, and enacting repairs with their mana. They would have the ship patched up and back at sea as soon as possible.

The hull had clearly seen better days, with damage marking the spectral infused wood, and leaving streams of energy leaking from the planks. It was as if the creatures they had encountered left it bleeding when they swarmed the vessel, but they couldn’t bring it down. As a result, there were a few large gaps that provided clear sightlines to the phantoms who had been using their skills to bail water from the interior. Marcus was genuinely surprised they hadn’t sunk. That they weren’t on the bottom of the sea was a testament to the skill of their navy and the power of properly wielded mana.

As Marcus finally exhaled in relief, at long last starting to feel safer after making it home, surrounded by allies, a spark ignited off the shore. He was already well-acquainted with such a phenomenon, and before thinking about it, his scepter had reignited.

The hovering red flame lit by the spark burned brighter instead of flickering out, growing as it absorbed the limited ambient mana unclaimed by the settlement. In a matter of seconds, by the time he even recognized it against the backdrop of the red horizon, the whirl of smoldering mana was solidifying into an eight foot tall golem of pitch black stone with fire burning from magma-infused joints. It was clearly from the same family that had scorched his ship, though he had already witnessed and noted a dozen different types of stone and flame demons in his binder.

The creature opened its lava-filled mouth to roar a hungry challenge, but a shimmering lance of energy smashed through its chest before it made a sound, causing the minion to collapse into rubble, falling into the ocean where it had stood. The shallow water hissed as the flames were consumed, and a small cloud of red mana bubbled up through the surface before dispersing into the air.

“Nice one, Moe!” He heard one of the companions of the adventurer shout from a slight distance away.

The victor raised his leather clad fist to the rest of his party with a big smile on his face before they continued their patrol. They were spaced out in a way that made it seem like they were conducting a search, wading through the shallow sea toward the Coral Forest in a line. There were hundreds of other residents scattered throughout the territory doing the same, making sure that none of the random spawns had a chance to establish themselves within their borders.

Marcus watched for a second longer, visualizing the limit of their perimeter and worrying about what was out there. The delineation between Ghost Reef and the rest of the world was too far beyond the horizon, but he knew it was clearly bounded from his journey home. The transition to safety had been noticeably abrupt.

Outside, mana itself seemed to be threatening them, but thus far, only the most basic of mana-infused monsters had been detected. It was nothing they couldn’t handle, but there was no one arrogant enough to believe things wouldn’t get a whole lot worse as time went on.

Keeping in mind that the average person was unprepared to utilize mana without access to the system in the first place, he could easily imagine how devastating even the first monsters would have been. These weren’t level one Primal Constructs. They were the forces of mana that couldn’t exist without the higher concentrations of mana that came later in the assimilation. Ghost Reef was extremely well-prepared if even the lower ranked Adventurer parties could defeat them and make it look easy.

The red haze that had settled throughout the atmosphere beyond the Lighthouse territory, shrouding the whole planet in a sanguine glow could only be considered a portent of violence. It made it clear that more trouble was on the way. The visible discoloration was the most obvious indication that they had turned a corner in terms of mana, with the ambient concentrations thick enough to be so clearly witnessed when activated.

Days and nights were one and the same after the planet was engulfed in the reddish glow, with neither the sun nor the moon able to pierce through the energized shield that quarantined Earth from the rest of the galaxy. Only the few locations that were occupied by the singular human faction were spots of purposeful defiance, with their aura-enhanced territory remaining clear of the local haze and providing a much needed comfort from the caustic energy.

Anyone unprepared for the Eradication Protocol would find the very atmosphere as the first threat to their lives, before even the forces that would hunt them down. It tore at their internalized mana, threatening to steal it away and use it to further escalate the turmoil. To hang on required a level of proficiency that would already place them at the level of an expert with the foreign energy.

Escaping the red smog and entering the clear air of Ghost Reef had been a relief, but the feeling hadn’t been allowed to settle in. Marcus raised his face toward where he imagined the sun would be, striving to see it fight through the isolating shield that trapped their planet. He was already unsure exactly how many days it had been since the sun last shone through. Unfortunately, even without the haze interfering, he couldn’t even catch a glimpse. The mana shield was too much of a hindrance.

He had left the last of his meetings with other leaders when the deafening messages rang out across the planet, announcing that they were failing to integrate into the galactic community. The entire trip had been through the crimson mist with a steady stream of monsters appearing as they went. Ghost Reef may have been mostly free of the abnormal energy, but the threat remained as the planetary shield illuminated the sky with bloody red.

According to their predictions, the actual Eradication Protocol wasn’t even due just yet. However, the disengagement of the system combined with the ominous parting message left them with no choice but to treat it as the end times. Unfortunately, not all of humanity had accepted their warnings, and he worried that he hadn’t done as much as he could have if he had known the deadline was so soon.

Marcus slowly shook his head as he focused up, not having the time to develop any regrets. He was reminded that nothing was ever easy nor would it be simple.

“That’s life.” Marcus muttered as he started to hustle toward the reliable fort, making a mental note to sketch the golem that had been destroyed at their doorstep and add it to his notes once he settled in.

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He barely got two steps beyond the sandy shore before the first messenger wraiths appeared by his side, disseminating news and updating him on the status of their broader territory.

“Shelter in place orders have been assigned to all Lighthouse territories.” The first dictated after he nodded to give permission. “Evacuation routes are readied.”

“Good.” Marcus acknowledged as he led the way across the island.

At this point, no one should have been traveling on their own without good reason. If they needed to transfer between positions they would have to move to the planned locations or with the Tempest Fleet. He had seen firsthand what it was like out there, and it was only the start. Spending too much time out in the open was a death sentence, but every location had a series of fallback locations if they were under too much pressure. Every evacuation chain eventually reached Ghost Reef, and most were unambiguous, like Neptune’s Bridge to Empress City, then Empress City to Ghost Reef.

“All mana pylons have been rendered inoperable, though their territories remain as of now.” Another stated. “Information is not being automatically disseminated from their positions.”

“That’s not good.” Marcus noted with a small frown as he reached the trail leading from the entrance of the fort to Coop’s lighthouse and following it north.

“All civilization shards have been rendered inoperable as well, though their territories also remain.” A female wraith piggybacked on the pylon update. “The beacons, however, are operational.”

“That’s almost worse.” Marcus grew a bit more concerned.

They were relying on the shards to shield populations against the activated mana, but if they were already handicapped by the removal of the system, it did not bode well for their long term outlook. That the beacons they distributed were working was definitely a silver lining. That meant the plans they had painstakingly established were not in vain.

“Ghost Reef, as a core settlement for a faction, appears to be an exception. Though the shard has been drained of mana, its menus are inaccessible, and the Underlayer is no longer providing the regeneration of any resources.”

“Have we completely lost services?” Marcus sought clarification.

“Emergency functions are available should enough mana be supplied. The Coral Forest is providing limited recovery directly to the settlement, but like the Underlayer, the ambient mana has become overwhelmingly corrosive to anyone that tries to enter. Structural shields will have to be manually operated without more time to accumulate resources, but local teleports and individual manufacturing are possible utilizing what is being generated. You just have to imagine your own menu.”

“Okay, that’s doable I guess.” Marcus muttered as they crossed the threshold of the main gate. At least they could still eat.

The phantom sentries nodded at him and his gaggle of wraiths as he approached the main gate. Different groups rushed out as he entered, but a sizable number remained on top of the walls, with every cannon portal clearly manned by multiple soldiers.

Ghost Reef was positioned as the final bastion for the entire rest of the world. In the end, if anything had to survive, it was the island fortress that the residents had collectively established. If they couldn’t do it, then humanity was doomed. It was that simple.

They had been preparing for this scenario longer than anyone else on the planet, and those who had joined them had coordinated with the understanding that the core territory of the Lighthouse would hold for as long as necessary. If that meant until the 111 years of their assimilation was up, then that’s what they had to do. Period. If the Eradication Protocol continued even after the planetary shield was gone, then they would hold forever. There was no other choice.

At least that was the idea. Marcus was like everyone else in that he couldn’t possibly predict the future. He shook his head at the situation humanity ended up in, unable to fully come to terms with their fate, but hopeful that they weren’t finished. So long as any of them had any fight left, he knew they wouldn’t give up.

To his surprise, as he considered the harshness of the overall situation, Jett cut across one of the side roads. The cat suddenly appeared from a shadow beneath the stoop of Balor’s workshop. She trotted between flower-filled stone planters, beneath a stone bench, jumped onto a sealed barrel at the side of Vronk’s bakery, then to the awning, before disappearing into another shadow beneath his chimney.

Marcus paused his entire entourage when he spotted the lighthouse cat. He had never witnessed Jett trot or be hurried in any way. He felt like, even more than everything he had already seen and heard, her urgency demonstrated the situation better than anything else. It was clear they would all have their work cut out for them.

“The Grand Horde has made contact with the Pacific Republic.” A fifth wraith took his turn to which Marcus simply nodded in acknowledgement.

“A fourth variant of the forces of mana has been identified.” Another declared, tacking onto the fifth’s message.

“What is it?” Marcus asked before any of the others could get their words out.

“It was described as a sickly bleached zombie that seemingly shared consciousness with other pale monsters.” The sixth wraith elaborated.

“A human zombie?” Marcus clarified, marginally slowing down to hear the answer just a few steps after restarting their journey.

“Yes, Viceroy, an individual from outside of the Lighthouse that had been shadowing our forces as they retreated from Asia, originally from the Knights of Time.” The wraith continued. “They seem to have been converted at some point before crossing the Bering Strait behind the Horde.”

“Great.” Marcus whispered, recognizing the nightmare that such a development represented.

When Lyriel first came to them, at the end of the Siege Event, she had provided a disc that granted what they had come to consider an inoculation against the Eradication Protocol to anyone within their territory. It was meant to keep them under the protection of the system when it was ripped away, but to her, that simply meant avoiding exactly what had just been described. The ability to continue to access mana without it turning against them in indescribable ways. Marcus and most of the others were unconvinced by Lyriel’s interpretations of mana and the system, but thus far, the end result was as promised.

When Coop created the official Lighthouse faction, that buff was extended to all of their subordinate territory and to anyone with membership to the faction. All of their preparations and plans were contingent on their ability to utilize that buff. Without it, they feared that they would have no chance whatsoever as the corrosion ate away at them. They might not even be able to put up a real fight beyond the specific individuals that had truly mastered control over their personal mana.

It looked like those fears might not have been too far off base if those who refused to join the Lighthouse were being corrupted by their own mana so soon, turning into the very forces the rest of them would have to fight. Marcus winced as he recognized how close they were to a worst case scenario. If they needed to survive a hundred years, it would have been near impossible for the absolute majority of the population under any other circumstances. Maybe just Coop and a few other talented individuals would have had any chance at all, and that was ignoring the active threats represented by the actual monsters.

Lyriel had described the soldiers within the forces of mana as little more than the manifestation granted to a planetary sponsor, the primary difference being in their motivations. Unlike the territory control-focused invaders, the forces of mana were given seek and destroy missions, with the target being humans themselves. In Marcus’s opinion, she had undersold them a bit, considering their absolute weakest representatives already rivaled the highest level Primal Constructs that they previously contended with. He couldn’t fault her too much, given that she had only personally experienced a single example, meaning Coop actually had more experience with a variety of forces of mana through his fights with the Icons.

The first new enemy that had been discovered was actually a former Primal Construct manifestation that had been infested with what had been described as an oozing parasite. The metallic monster had black fleshy growths extending from its joints, carrying around the lifeless metal limbs of the alien invader like a personal banner. They had only heard of a single example, from a report from the Jaguar Sun deep in South America, but it was different enough for them to be certain it was a unique variation.

The second had been a fiery golem unlike anything they had seen before. Contrary to the Primal Constructs, it utilized elemental energy to give itself a form. Similar variants had been the most common on Marcus’s journey, and were evidently already attempting to infiltrate Ghost Reef’s territory.

The third was a scaled lizard more akin to an actual animal species than what humans had grown used to fighting. These had been spotted in Africa, Canada, and in the Yucatan.

And finally, the fourth was a pale white zombie spotted somewhere in Siberia.

So far, all the enemies reflected the Icons of Mana that Coop had defeated at one point or another. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, as it were.

They had well-established dossiers with the Unchosen Champion’s first hand accounting of what he saw as their strengths and weaknesses. Marcus wasn’t sure how useful the creepiness rankings would be, but they recorded everything Coop had to say when it came to his random ideas and added them to all the second hand information that the Avatar had collected through her network of Exiles. He flipped through his binder, finding the notes for review.

Irrevocable Condemnation was the monster that had kicked everything off, as far as they were concerned. The parasitic, formless, black corruption that had infested the Primal Constructs at the end of the Siege Event, using the mana trapped within their mana dome to manifest, had been witnessed by all the original residents of Ghost Reef.

It had been an absolute horror, but somehow it was only second place on Coop’s creepiness scale. Whether it better represented Conquest or Pestilence depended on who was asked, but Marcus could see it going either way. The way it took over a host leaned toward conquest, but the nature of its parasitic infestation reminded him of disease and pestilence.

Monolithic Destiny: the demon of stone and blood that had been summoned by the first bloodcurse ritual in Ghost Reef was their second encounter with an Icon of Mana. According to the combined information gathered from Lyriel and Coop, it might have been the most relatable, like the general of a demonic horde. That violent devil was clearly War and it was making its presence known all across the northern hemisphere.

Inevitable Conclusion: the golden dragon hybrid that swallowed the land in sand after Coop engaged with the Cult of Chakyum’s Avatar of Huracan symbolized Famine and appeared to be brewing in the Americas.

And now, Fatal Reckoning: the pale white angel that had appeared with the defeat of the first Region Boss, and the monster that made Coop the most uncomfortable, represented Death. Marcus added a check mark adjacent to the last Icon that they had a clear record of existing.

“Looks like all the RSVP’s have already arrived.” Marcus noted, recognizing that they had even appeared in order, making him wonder about those mana echoes Balor had introduced. “Hm.” He grunted. “Will there be more surprise guests?” He wondered out loud.

The various wraiths within earshot simply exchanged glances with each other as if they were worried one among them had more bad news. Thankfully, none of them spoke up, instead returning to taking turns sharing other news of developments around the settlement.

Marcus nodded to himself as he led the way, listening as he was brought up to speed.