Crossover: Monthly Character Templates in the Multiverse Chat Group — Chapter 96

Chapter 96: Time’s Up

“The Emperor’s Blades?”

Bodrokas’tee’s deep voice rumbled from beneath his heavy armor. He gripped his massive halberd, his singular glowing red eye locking onto the five imposing figures blocking their path.

These elite executioners were originally meant to guard the northern tundra, serving as the empire’s absolute defense against the demonic Collapsals. They only appeared for the most critical, highly classified missions, acting as the physical manifestation of the Ursus Emperor’s will.

But now, they were claiming that the Deathless Black Snake was the one who tipped them off?

“You have formed some kind of alliance with the Snake Lord?” Bodrokas’tee asked, his tone heavy with suspicion.

“We are all doing this for Ursus. The Deathless Black Snake can make Ursus great again,” one of the Emperor’s Blades replied, his voice a distorted, mechanical hiss filtering through his heavy respirator.

The Blade took a measured step forward, his posture surprisingly respectful. “The future of Ursus needs a living legend like you. Captain, stay. We will personally petition His Majesty to grant you the position you rightfully deserve. Even if you are infected with Oripathy, you are still worthy of a General’s mantle.”

The highest military rank a non-Ursus race could officially hold was Captain, but in the eyes of these fanatical guards, the Patriot Bodrokas’tee was an exception. They knew his terrifying strength and the centuries of blood he had shed to build the Ursus Empire. If a pureblood Wendigo of his caliber returned to Kazdel, it would be an incalculable loss for the nation.

He had fought for over a century. He knew the empire’s military deployments, its hidden fortresses, and its darkest secrets. If he defected, he could easily plunge the entire country into existential danger.

They wanted to fight for their Captain, to bring him back into the fold so he could bleed for Ursus once more. Even if he stubbornly chose to continue his guerrilla war on the frozen snowy plains, the empire could turn a blind eye. But choosing to return to Kazdel was a line they could not let him cross.

The moment they received the intelligence from the Deathless Black Snake, they had mobilized at maximum speed, locking their sights entirely on Bodrokas’tee.

In contrast, Kashchey’s daughter—the brand-new vessel the ancient snake had chosen—seemed entirely irrelevant to their mission.

“No,” Bodrokas’tee said, his stance immovable as a mountain. “My mind is set.”

“Is that so?”

The leading Emperor’s Blade let out a long, distorted sigh of disappointment. “I never thought the day would come when I would have to draw my weapon against a legend like you. But Ursus will never tolerate betrayal!”

A chorus of heavy, ragged breathing echoed from the restrictive combat suits of the five guards. The temperature plummeted. Eerie, pitch-black snow began to fall from the sky, corrupting the very air around them as they drew their ceremonial blades in unison.

Entelechia stepped forward, her pale pink hair catching the harsh tundra wind. “Emperor’s Blades. Retreating is your best choice.”

“We represent the absolute will of Ursus!” one of the guards barked, pointing his dark blade at her. “Former Demon King of Kazdel, the earth beneath your feet belongs to Ursus. You have crossed the line!”

The guard lunged at Entelechia, tearing through the black snow. In response, a blinding, tidal wave of Sarkaz Originium Arts erupted from her fingertips, crashing into him with the force of a localized Catastrophe.

“Even if I no longer hold the title of Demon King, I am still the absolute master of Arts among the Sarkaz,” Entelechia said, her eyes glowing with ancient power.

Seeing her overwhelming strength, two more Blades immediately broke off to suppress her, while the remaining two executed a flawless pincer maneuver, charging straight at Bodrokas’tee.

“Sir!” Talulah and FrostNova drew their weapons, rushing forward to intercept the attackers.

“Fall back!” Bodrokas’tee roared, swinging his halberd to create a shockwave that forced the girls behind him.

From the shadows, the Shapeshifter cluster slowly materialized, stepping into the falling black snow. “I have just informed His Highness. He is… highly irritated at the moment.”

Talulah blinked, glancing at the strange Sarkaz entity. “But he can’t make it all the way out here right now, can he?”

“Few entities in this world can match his movement speed,” the Shapeshifter replied smoothly. “… His Highness had just gone to bed.”

It was over.

Entelechia’s heart skipped a beat. She could vividly picture Frez being jolted awake right after finally falling asleep, rising from his bed with a catastrophic case of the night grumps.

The Emperor’s Blades, highly trained to process battlefield intelligence, instantly caught the exchange. They communicated through a rapid series of encrypted hand signals and guttural clicks. The tactical shift was immediate. The three Blades harassing Entelechia split up—two threw themselves into a suicidal holding pattern to lock her down, while the third broke away, joining the assault on Bodrokas’tee.

If the current Demon King truly arrived, their mission would end in total failure. They had to execute Bodrokas’tee right now.

But the legend of Ursus was not so easily felled. Even with his massive body ravaged and crystallized by late-stage Oripathy, Bodrokas’tee parried the combined strikes of three Emperor’s Blades, his halberd moving with terrifying, methodical precision.

Meanwhile, as a master of ancient Arts, Entelechia was not someone two mere inner guards could easily exploit. It was not that she lacked the power to kill them—it was simply too dangerous to do so.

The Emperor’s Blades were elite warriors surgically fused with fragments of the demonic Collapsals. Their heavy combat suits were essentially walking containment units, designed to restrain the apocalyptic forces boiling inside their smoke-like bodies. They had to constantly use their sheer willpower to resist demonic corruption just to maintain their sanity. If their suits were critically damaged, the contained demons would erupt, triggering a localized annihilation of reality itself.

If all five Blades detonated here, the resulting malignant Catastrophe would wipe everyone off the map.

Whoosh!

The air warped. A tall, blindfolded figure materialized directly in front of Entelechia.

The two Emperor’s Blades did not even have the time to process the spatial anomaly before Frez grabbed them by their collars. In the blink of an eye, the three of them vanished into thin air. A split second later, Frez reappeared, grabbed the remaining three Blades assaulting Bodrokas’tee, and vanished again.

When he popped back into existence a moment later, he dusted off his hands and let out a long, exhausted sigh. “Emperor’s Blades are such a massive hassle.”

Their actual combat power wasn’t a threat to him, but their status as walking reality-bombs was incredibly annoying. He had just teleported all five of them deep into the northern wastelands and let them detonate safely away from civilization.

“Your Highness,” Entelechia and Bodrokas’tee said, immediately moving to bow.

“Alright, skip the formalities,” Frez groaned, waving a hand dismissively. “I told you kneeling isn’t necessary. Bodrokas’tee, since you’ve chosen to return to Kazdel, I won’t say anything more.”

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a glowing gem, and tossed it to Entelechia. “Take this. Use it to barter for food, transport vehicles, fuel, and whatever daily necessities your people need. When the time is right, send the refugees straight to Babel.”

“Understood, sir,” Entelechia said, carefully pocketing the gem.

Frez turned his back, rolling his shoulders to work out a kink in his neck. “One more thing. Starting tomorrow, Wis’adel and I will be out of Kazdel for a while. But someone else will be managing the territory in my absence. You just need to follow the established rules.”

Tomorrow, he was taking Wis’adel to Fontaine. He desperately needed a vacation. As for the administrative nightmare of running Kazdel, Void Archives was more than capable of handling the paperwork.

“I understand,” Entelechia nodded.

Frez didn’t offer another word. He didn’t even spare a glance at Talulah or FrostNova as he turned and walked into the freezing wind. Talulah wasn’t a priority right now; she would eventually lead the Reunion Movement to Babel on her own. There was no need to interfere with the timeline yet.

Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting back to his warm bed.

Teyvat, Court of Fontaine.

“Welcome, my dear friends!”

A white-haired girl dressed in an elegant, redesigned blue tailcoat sat at the head of a lavishly decorated table, beaming with theatrical grace. Her unruly white hair stubbornly peeked out from beneath her top hat, swaying lightly with her energetic movements. The bright sunlight caught the snow-white skin of her thighs, making them shimmer like polished ivory.

The weather in Fontaine today was absolutely pristine. A gentle, warm breeze swept through the courtyard, and the sky was a brilliant, cloudless azure—the absolute perfect atmosphere for an afternoon tea party.

The table groaned under the weight of exquisite pastries, delicate macarons, and tiered cake stands. A freshly brewed pot of premium black tea sat in the center, its rich aroma wafting through the garden.

“I, Furina de Fontaine, bid you the warmest of welcomes! On a magnificent, sun-drenched afternoon such as this, absolutely nothing can compare to a cup of Fontaine’s finest black tea and the most delectable sweets our master chefs can provide!”

Furina’s tone was incredibly exaggerated, dripping with dramatic flair, but she wasn’t lying. Everything she had prepared was of the highest conceivable quality.

“Speaking of which, Frez,” Furina said, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hands. “This is your very first visit to Fontaine, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

Frez nodded, sinking comfortably into his plush chair. He picked up a delicate porcelain cup and took a slow, appreciative sip of the black tea. The rich, floral notes danced on his tongue. He let out a contented sigh. “Now this… this is actual living. The daily grind back on Terra isn’t meant for human beings.”

“You are more than welcome to stay here with me,” Furina offered, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “As a personal friend of the Hydro Archon, securing a proper Fontaine citizenship for you will be effortlessly easy. Now then…” She leaned closer, her dramatic persona slipping into genuine intrigue. “It is time you tell me absolutely everything you know.”

“Alright,” Frez smiled, setting his teacup down. “Where do you want me to start?”