Problem had designed the battlefield to suit their purposes: a demesne fifty meters in all dimensions, powered by the same magical environment that had created the Tormented Flesh. The black walls kept the Comets from breaking out—it’d burn them—and nothing could break in to rescue them. Unless with enough determination but that wasn’t their issue.

A dim white light shone throughout the area, illuminating every nook and cranny, even appearing within the buildings themselves, the source unapparent. Another effect of the demesne. At irregular intervals, it’d darken and flicker like a dying light bulb, flashing the small army of Slayers in and out similarly to a bad concert. The mana here, although abundant, had irregular currents.

Additionally, it prevented any spatial-abilities. Most anyhow. It was debatable whether or not it could prevent portal creation but teleportation was prohibited, meaning the Comets couldn’t simply blink their way out.

Over two hundred Slayers were present. Professors from Ordo University, teams from the Big Four, Otherguards, guildsmen and women outside of Ordo, and Archknell himself. Most were B or A-Ranks. They had been trusted to fight against the two Comets of the Kreutz Sungrazers: the Lesser Watcher, Pereyra, and the Lesser Cutter, Tewfik.

How many researchers, how many scientists, sages, and wise fools would kill for an opportunity like this? To personally meet and speak with entities originating from what lied beyond the multiverse? Where in the grand infinitum of worlds and variations was a plane greater, that which housed every budding leaf and every bubble.

Of course, that was the massively simplified theory of the “Space Beyond”. For millions, perhaps billions of trillions of years, madmen across the multiverse had thrown away their lives to access this place, and not one had succeeded. And those who tasted a grape of knowledge either went insane or gave up their search altogether, just like Master Alzahrani had.

And now, an entire team of them had arrived in Ordo to destroy this world.

Normally, this would be cause for celebration, to pop open the champagne and praise this new discovery for going further than anyone had before. Hardly. Precisely because they were from the Space Beyond, the realm of all realms, Ordo had to treat them with the utmost seriousness. Walking apocalypses. Cataclysms. The fate of the entire world, as cliched and dull as that sounded, depended on today’s Slayers.

Thirty minutes. That was how long the demesne would last given no interference. They had thirty minutes to kill two of the Kreutz Sungrazers.

Archknell had strung the Comets using [Strings of the Deathweaver - Siphoning Strings], which had drained them of their strength, held them in the air. They were roped hundred times over, pulled by the limbs to the fullest extent. If it was any normal man, he’d be torn apart with a tenth of the force that Archknell exerted.

But the Comets held, strangely casual and nonchalant despite the overwhelming numbers. A cackle came from Pereyra, the same laugh it had used during its assault on Black Paladin Station. It was a cold one, as chilly as a sunless day. Neither seemed intimidated. Insultingly, they looked excited. Entertained.

“Shall we begin?” asked Tewfik mockingly, knowing how much Slayers enjoyed sparring amongst one another.

The pair moved. Their limbs popped out of their sockets, bent and broken in horrible, visibly disgusting manners, all so they could twist their bodies, pulling on each individual string. A gasp escaped from Archknell, finding his control slipping. Slipping, slipping, as the Comets contorted awfully.

They exerted greater strength than he ever could.

Knowing that he’d lose complete control, Archknell yelled something between a primal shout and actual language and quickly slammed his hands onto the ground, forcing every string to throw the Comets into the road.

The Slayers prepared themselves, yelling out stations and orders, brandishing their diverse weapons and tricks, as a cloud of gray, chalky dust rose from the impact. In the cloud laid two figures. Broken and contorted like brutalized zombies. Unnaturally, their limbs snapped together back in place. Arms straightening out, every individual finger cracking long and narrow, the legs fixing themselves, and the necks rotating a full circle, staring straight ahead at the Archknell and the Slayers behind him.

Everyone watched in mixtures of horror and shock.

“Shit,” muttered a man wearing a ranger’s cloak. “That’s freaky—”

His head was blown off by a red ray.

[EXPEDITION ALERT]

DECEASED: Shaft

Problem gritted their teeth as shouts echoed across the demesne, Slayers frantically splitting into their teams. Even boasting the high ranks they toiled over, they were too slow.

The Comets, despite their frail and unassuming physiques, were deceptively powerful. Stronger, faster, durable. Highlighted when they easily had escaped from Archknell’s weavework by literally breaking their bodies. And now, where before the Slayers could fully separate, Tewfik had already reached the group. Its spine-like sword was drawn back, and Archknell was the target.

He stepped back, raised his hands to call his strings to protect himself from the Cutter’s powers, then suddenly a blast of air came from the left, crashed into Tewfik and launched it absurdly fast into the building over. A Slayer manning some sort of mechanical cannon had done it, which condensed air into projectiles.

“Above us!” came another, and the skies were illuminated with a deathly red. A rain of red bolts came from Pereyra’s scepter. Each and every one were automatically intercepted by constructs (turrets, runes, the like) that were strategically placed throughout the demesne. They fired whatever to neutralize the projectiles, creating reddish-gray clouds of smoke that smelled faintly of acid.

The battle escalated dramatically from there; if the situation wasn’t so dire, Problem would’ve brought some popcorn having a front-row seat to the show.

Archknell cried out commands, reminding everyone of their roles: shielders! maintain constant protection over your allies! Move with the main forces! Ranged Slayers! spread out across the city (if you haven’t already)! The rest…!

Problem sighed. They were the poor bastards who had to fight the Comets directly.

The Slayers discussed their tactics before the operation had began, using the System of course: it’d be devastating to allow either Comet to have free reign on their forces—hell, one just died earlier. Teams were strategically (exaggeration) placed throughout the demesne to combat and intercept the Comets as they moved, guiding them to other teams in the process. Due to the inherent diversity of personnel present, the constant rotations would hopefully confuse the Comets. Or at the very least, prevented them from tearing through the forces easily.

Effectively, they turned the demesne into a maze where the dead ends actually tried to kill you.

The idea itself was decent, trying to maximize the pressure while decreasing the chance of a complete slaughter. It was a matter of actually beating the Comets themselves.

That was debatable.

Tewfik recovered from the air blast and turned tail into an alleyway, seeing as it was outnumbered, dashing with remarkable speed and agility. A team appeared on the other end, swords and tomes at the ready, and it effortlessly bounced on the opposing walls to climb onto a roof.

As soon as it stepped foot on a ledge, a pearl white arrow crashed into its chest, shot by some magick archer, and sent it flying. Tewfik smashed into the opposite building, went through and popped out the other end, dropping hard onto the ground and rolling onto another street. All that just to have a few smudges on its cloak.

Immediately a team descended upon it, from Martials as Problem could sense their internal energy from where he was watching. The forwardmost one thrusted with his tassel-dancing spear engulfed in qi, making a hundred thrusts within a second. The first dozen poked thumbtack-sized holes into its cloak, the next was blocked and parried, creating a cloud of steel that rang like bad music.

The spearman gritted his teeth and let out an adrenaline-filled cry as the pace quickened. That wouldn’t be enough. In between the attacks, slippery and unnoticed like a rat, Tewfik made a full swing into his chest.

A jade green shield shattered around his body, protected him from the Cutter ability. Not what came after. The sword folded him in half, took him off his feet and was launched through the air. Faster than any human should go, including Slayers, becoming more smear than man. His lower body smacked into a car, flipped over, tumbling, and smashed his head into a broken window frame and collapsed limp in a random building’s interior, folded over some furniture.

[EXPEDITION STATUS]

DECEASED: Mao

An anguished cry came from his team but a long arc formed by wind pressure struck them, hard. Jade light shimmered and broke around their bodies as they collapsed, flying back but not as harshly as their fallen ally.

So, Problem thought, the ability doesn’t activate unless Tewfik makes a full swing. They communicated the observation through the Slayer System, though adding a disclaimer that it may be true. Caution still had to be exercised.

A small detail but possibly an advantageous one in the right hands.

For most, shields were necessary when fighting Tewfik, exploiting a natural feature in its powers: the transformation of turning ‘something that could be cut’ into ‘something that must be cut’. In other words, if you were that ‘something’ then you’d horrifically die saved for a conceptual defense of the grade. But there was a way around this: by having a shield applied, it’d take the hit first and save you from a certain death.

However, this meant it had a one-time use until another could be given.

If you were caught without your shield, you were done.

[EXPEDITION STATUS]

DECEASED: Strike One

DECEASED: Strike Two

DECEASED: Strike Three

Tewfik was aware of the fact. The three strikes had charged in only to be met by two pressure arcs dealt a moment apart.

An amethyst-colored bullet cracked into Tewfik’s skull. From behind. Didn’t do much damage but it did a damn good job at getting its attention. About three blocks away, a woman with a high-powered magical rifle stood wearing a face mask, outfitted with futuristic cybernetics. One of Martials actually, if he recalled, a Head Officer.

Tewfik bent its head sideways as if annoyed and sprinted ahead, spotting a new nuisance to take down, slashing in her general direction and generating a pressure arc. It had distance. Long distance, most likely deterministic depending on how much energy it used. Here, enough to spook the sniper, causing her to jump as the arc crashed into the roof she’d been standing on. As she leapt, she shot again, missed as Tewfik ducked, creating purple platforms underneath her feet to allow her to leap to the rooftop across.

Several teams poured from the alleyways and sideroads to cut the Comet off, shouting and yelling and hollering. It didn’t sound like proper communication or coordination was happening but what did Problem know?

Tewfik skidded, spun on its feet and made a wide sweeping arc. Nothing precise. Dramatic though? Absolutely. A hurricane-like gust battered the road, raging stronger than any measured storm in mankind’s history.

If there had been any remaining windows, they’d be shattered. Everything on the road was picked up, torn from whatever bolts and foundations they stood on. Cars, mailboxes, street lamps, planters and even the trees too, thrown and tossed around as if they were plastic bags in a gentle wind. Chaotically.

Slayers ducked into points of cover, some throwing themselves over their allies or throwing their allies themselves into a safe place, most having the ability to protect themselves from the deadly debris. Except for one who was taken by surprise, a blue-haired woman in colorful robes. A gray-silver sedan slammed into her, both smashing into an interior.

[EXPEDITION STATUS]

DECEASED: Spectrum

Suddenly a car was thrown at Tewfik, a small delivery truck painted red with blood. Tewfik easily cleaved the truck into two but a hulking man appeared on the other side, who probably had indulged a little too much in mutational magic.

He landed a good punch across the cheek, followed with a straight but Tewfik weaved under and cracked its spine-like sword against the Slayer’s leg. A golden shield broke, and so did his knee. It buckled almost instantly and he fell on his ass. Then his skull was split down the middle, and the rest of his body followed suit.

[EXPEDITION STATUS]

DECEASED: Strongarm

There were still a large number of Slayers present here, and Tewfik charged without a care.

Problem bit their lip and turned to the other battlefield that dealt with Pereyra, the tricky bastard who managed to best Team Luster by itself. Right now it was playing games with a team Problem actually recognized: Trueswords, from some Royals-affiliated guild. A team of five, each an expert in some form of European swordsmanship.

[EXPEDITION STATUS]

INCAPICTATED: Claymore

Seeing as Pereyra blasted a man’s leg off point-blank, swordsmanship wasn’t helping them.

Pereyra was noticeably more agile than Tewfik. Constantly on the move and making it downright impossible for these Slayers to land a good strike. If Jury couldn’t do it, then these people were hopeless.

A swordswoman screamed thoughtlessly from behind in a fit of emotion, unfortunately revealing her position long before her attack—as if Pereyra needed the indicator anyway. It effortlessly ducked, spun its staff and knocked her blade high, disarming her. The ruby was pointed at her head. It glowed.

[EXPEDITION STATUS]

DECEASED: Lunge

Desperately, a Slayer did something so brave and stupid that Problem had to commend him. He dashed up to Pereyra while its guard was down and tried tackling it. But he’d forgotten something: these things were much more powerful than they appeared. He was nowhere near as strong as he needed to be.

“Oh?” Pereyra curiously said and began levitating—another one of its natural powers—causing the man to desperately shriek, fists balling up its cloak. “Cease,” it said before blasting the man straight into the earth.

[EXPEDITION ALERT]

DECEASED: Sabre

Levitating however caused Pereyra to expose itself to every nearby ranged Slayer and automated constructs. People clamored, saying that this was their chance.

Then, everyone unloaded what they had.

It was difficult to tell what had been shot: everything really, from magic to physical, tangible objects like bullets and arrows and special grenades even. With a simple twirl of its staff, Pereyra lifted it high in the air and the gem sparkled.

A crackling red shockwave shot out, just like the one in Black Paladin Station that had downed everyone.

It turned the physical projectiles into ash and neutralized the magic.

Then it was their turn.

The shockwave passed through everyone’s shields and struck them directly no matter the cover, feeling as if liquid lava had been poured into their bloodstream. Many immediately fell to their knees, staggered, but it wasn’t deadly. Just incredibly painful. Worst yet, whatever constructs they had went kaput, either disappearing altogether or went up in sparks.

No one could defend themselves when Pereyra attacked again, spewing red rain that spat everywhere. Those who were able to move ducked into solid cover, trying to drag any of their comrades into safety with them. Yet several had no such luck, too immobile to save themselves, too scattered to have anyone save them.

[EXPEDITION ALERT]

DECEASED: Low

INCAPICTATED: Heretic

DECEASED: Lively

DECEASED: Wallop

INCAPICTATED: Sector

Before Pereyra could finish off the rest, Slayer Teams from the other areas poured in, distracting the Comet while some of them pulled the wounded out.

Problem grimaced. That was enough observation; they had the information they needed.

Tewfik preferred close combat, toying with the Slayers that dared to face it. Of the two Sungrazers, the Cutter was the more fatal. Any casualties were almost always straight deaths.

On the other hand, Pereyra had weaker powers (after all, nothing compared to absolute conceptual abilities) but was incredibly irritating to fight, as Team Luster had experienced back in Black Paladin Station. It preferred fighting from a range but didn’t hesitate to engage in close combat, being tricky with its movements, making it nigh-impossible to land a single hit. And that was with an entire Slayer Team, from Glory Guild.

In summary: ten more minutes of this and they’ll lose a quarter of their force. The Slayers were coordinated to a certain extent, strong to a certain point, but these things were just unfairly powerful. If Problem had to guess, they stood at least at an S-Rank Level, which could make A-Ranks look like children.

Despite the initial losses, Problem stayed collected, having the luxury to watch the battle from a relatively safe position. To completely summarize their thoughts, all they needed was a single sentence: they couldn’t win. Not in a direct confrontation anyhow, pitting might against might like an arm-wrestling match.

Things are more dire than we anticipated, they thought, grimacing. There was a reason why Archknell and the other high-rankers hadn’t been introduced yet. An intentional decision, which could be viewed as ruthlessly pragmatic seeing as the “weaker” Slayers had to fight first. But it’d been the necessary course of action due to the Cutter, who ignored most forms of defense. Losing just one S-Rank severely reduced their chances of, well, living.

By having Problem observe, they could determine their next course of action. Initially, everyone had hoped that all the S-Ranks were enough to subjugate the Comets. Seeing this, that assumption was quickly disproven.

However, if there was one thing humanity was known for, it’d be adapting.

Problem called Archknell using the System: “We ought to be careful; the Comets are stronger than we expected.” He glanced around the demesne, reminding himself of the various positions that the ranged Slayers had taken. “So let’s exert some creativity. Activate the S-Ranks.”