Campione: Strongest# 488: Their Respective Encounters

The steady male voice, tinged with subtle anguish and resignation, echoed throughout the entire city.

Magical energy wove through the sound—everyone who heard this voice could feel something profoundly wrong, as if incompatible with the world itself.

As the voice reverberated through the atmosphere, six hundred square kilometers of land slowly derailed from reality, noticed by only the most perceptive few.

Then, like fabric being violently torn, a deafening shriek erupted. Space spanning hundreds of kilometers was forcibly severed from reality, the entire area becoming an otherworld.

The super-massive Reality Marble called The Labyrinth took form.

Space-time quietly began to distort—!

—————

Tokyo's Ota Ward, Main Street

The wide roadway was packed with abandoned vehicles, the entire street congested beyond movement. Above the cars, Dead Apostles used expensive vehicle roofs as stepping stones, charging straight toward the living ahead.

"Right front, Three-Verse Magecraft—Words of Wind." A cold female voice commanded.

Fierce gales carrying razor wind blades materialized from nothing, crossing dozens of meters instantly, sweeping hundreds of cars—along with the Dead Apostles atop them—into the sky.

The impossibly sharp wind blades sliced through steel without resistance, severing limbs, cutting both vehicles and Dead Apostles into fragments.

For a moment, a rain of steel and flesh fell upon the street.

As shattered metal clinked against pavement, the ground was carpeted in a crimson mosaic of blood and bone.

"Dead ahead, Four-Verse—Words of Tempest!"

Lorelei conducted her baton with focused intensity, directing the five-hundred-strong magus legion like a symphony orchestra. Through the city's interconnected streets, she orchestrated fate's symphony to hell.

Suddenly, her conducting baton paused. Hearing Caubac's anguished declaration, Lorelei's expression grew grave.

"The Twenty-Seventh Ancestor, Caubac Alcatraz? That joke among Dead Apostles is here too?"

The so-called joke referred to how Caubac—a Dead Apostle Ancestor transformed from a magus—had built a massive labyrinth to protect his magical knowledge, only to trap himself inside, unable to enter or leave.

But in reality, only high-level combatants like Lorelei knew the truth: Caubac was attempting to reach the Root through his labyrinth-crafting techniques. Within his Reality Marble labyrinth, he continuously experimented with paths to the Root while evading the Counter Force.

To outsiders, Caubac seemed a fool who'd shot himself in the foot. But to those in the know, he was an impossibly troublesome positional warfare specialist.

As Lorelei pondered Caubac's arrival and its implications, a chill suddenly raced up her spine to her brain.

In that instant, Lorelei's face changed drastically. Her urgent roar erupted: "All units—defense!"

The heavenly canopy displaying the vast starry sky quietly distorted. A vortex of infinite hatred manifested through the distortion, descending upon this wide street.

—————

Suginami Ward's Forest Park

In this park filled with lush trees, nearly a primeval forest—

Beastmen with savage appearances moved like true predators, racing on all fours through gaps between massive trees.

Dead Apostles with human appearances, lured into the forest by advance units, were suddenly ambushed by appearing beastmen—torn apart by raw physical strength.

The beastmen let enemy blood and flesh rain upon them. Faced with this exceptionally bloody scene that would make any human's skin crawl, the beast-transformed Wandering Sea magi showed only bloodthirsty, savage grins.

Gransurg led the Wandering Sea magi in systematically hunting Dead Apostles in groups. Suddenly, hearing Caubac's warning, the veteran's expression changed drastically.

"All units on guard! Don't act rashly—we're already inside the labyrinth!"

The beast faction magi immediately stopped at Gransurg's command, forming defensive rings as they scanned their surroundings warily.

"Understanding even the Twenty-Seventh's Great Labyrinth—as expected of you, Teacher Gransurg." A silent, middle-aged male voice slowly echoed through the forest.

Hearing this voice, Gransurg's pupils contracted.

Rustle—rustle—

Leaves and dead branches crunched underfoot as a white-haired middle-aged man in a black coat slowly entered Gransurg's view.

Seeing the suddenly appearing man, Gransurg's pupils shrank to points. His fuzzy golden lion face contorted with savage fury, like an aged lion king baring bloodthirsty fangs once more.

"Fabro Rowan—no, the Tenth Ancestor—Nrvnqsr Chaos! You traitor!" A roar mixed with rage erupted.

Hearing this roar, Nrvnqsr's steady voice echoed calmly:

"It's been a long time, Teacher."

—————

Rat-tat-tat—! Rat-tat-tat—! Rat-tat-tat—!

Brilliant muzzle flashes constantly erupted, their instant brilliance outshining the stars above.

Dozens of alchemists wielding Gatling guns wore expressions of fanatical excitement, like zealous gun nuts, frantically unleashing terrifying firepower at the Dead Apostles ahead.

Behind these crazed firearms enthusiasts, hundreds of alchemists expressionlessly pulled items from their tactical backpacks.

BOOOOOOOOM!!!

A hundred meters away, a nine-story apartment collapsed. Massive concrete chunks buried hundreds of Dead Apostles beneath the rubble.

"C1 mana bomb showed 20% deviation from predicted yield, 10% timing deviation." An alchemist coldly adjusted his glasses.

Sion's mouth twitched as she watched the lunatics behind her.

Atlas Academy's core industry was weapon forging. Since the Age of Gods, Atlas had influenced global weapons development.

Now, at the end of the 20th century, the Atlas magi who could be called the military faction were naturally all fanatical modern weapons enthusiasts.

Modern weapons suited large-scale warfare, so deploying these gun fanatics wasn't bad, but for Sion, this was awkward.

'How am I supposed to drag this batch of weapon-testing fanatics to fight Night of Wallachia??' Sion pressed her forehead with a dark expression.

Just then, a puzzled voice spoke softly:

"This familiar bloodline aura..."

Sion spun toward the voice's source.

A golden-haired man in a black cape, looking exactly like the vampires described in ancient texts, stood atop a streetlight, looking down at her.

Seeing that face—identical to her family's ancestral paintings—Sion's lips curved upward, her purple eyes filling with hatred.

"You actually delivered yourself to me? My dear ancestor!"