Chapter 652 – Prince of Peace
Pax cannot be willingly killed. It is that simple. Whatever harm shall befall him has one universal rule, it always fails at simply the last step. We know from the past that this is almost never a direct call-out. Most warriors are left baffled at the fact their bodies refuse to move so abruptly, with no warning whatsoever. There is doubt as to whether Pax actually controls this aura of unhurt around him, or whether it is a facet of him just as Helenna’s ever-changing hair is a facet of the Goddess of Love.
The simple fact of the matter is that we lack information upon Pax. What is remembered from the Great War can be outdated, or maybe just wrong. We are unaware of whether Tartarian royalty gains power from their titles, or whether their titles are unique or replaceable. Likewise, we are unaware about the effect that modern explosives will have upon killing Pax. The hopeful, optimistic part of myself states that shrapnel is random and untargeted and thus, can avoid his shield. A pessimistic reading however says that we attribute kills of shrapnel to the original shooter and thus, there will be no difference against Pax. If one cannot put a spear directly through his chest, then one will be unable to fire a high-explosive round directly next to him.
More information is needed: How much has Pax actually changed since the Great War? There are demons who are recorded to have died of old age after all. Maybe this is a new Pax, with a similar look and title? It could be a descendant. Likewise, we need to go know about the exact range in which Pax creates his sphere of unhurt. The realistic prediction is that those guns which may potentially hurt Pax in the immediate explosions will refuse to be fired, whereas other will work.
One new method to be tested, made possible only due to the advent of instant communication and long-range weaponry, could work in theory. We are not sure of whether Pax’s Peacekeeping is a result of the demon itself, or the presence of the demon in the mind. In the past, even sorcerers would need a direct line of sight to fight the demon. Now, we could theoretically designate a piece of land to be struck. The person pulling the trigger would not be aware of what the target is exactly.
Whatever happens, the debate on if the demon has some internal power protecting him or some external command over those wishing to harm him would finally be settled.
Pax Report #11. Written by Goddess Kassandora, of War.
Fleet Admiral Callaghan looked over at the deck of the Kassandora. “Prepare for volley.” They were watching the bone-white banners of the horde led by Pax slowly approach the end of the Rilian landbridge. Ships had already been sent to harass the troops that were coming from behind the demon but they were merely pulling buckets of water out of a stream. Every now and then, counter-artillery in the form of a purple fireball, or a boulder blasted from a great cannon, would hit a vessel and force it out of action. And if that did not occur, then the guns would need to slow down for reloading and cooling purposes.
Other ships were bombarding the shore, north and south to where the Kassandora had managed to isolate Pax to be, but it did not matter, their grand explosions were mere blips in the numbers of the swarm coming down upon Rilia. The twelve massive guns of the Imperial flagship turned to the side as cameras zoomed in on the horde. It was unknown where Pax stood exactly, Callaghan had never seen a picture of him even though he had been trying to do anything to get someone to activate the firing switches. At one time, they even fed a bottle of whiskey to one of the gunners in the hopes that sheer intoxication would result in an accidental firing. “Batteries, report.” Callaghan said into his radio as he stared at the white flags lit up by red flames, all sandwiched by a sky and a blacker ocean. The fact it was the coloured of Empire made it seem even more like parody.
“First Battery Admiral, we cannot fire.”
The second had no better news.
Nor did the third.
The fourth at least had some colourful language. “Captain, I am trying to fucking slam my head into it.”
“Abort shore bombardment.” Callaghan replied. They had tracked it for long enough. Nothing would change by now. He looked down at the monitor before him and clicked until he got to Rilian Shore command. “Callaghan reporting to Rilian Command, we are unable to intercept Pax. He is yours. Fleet moving south.”
Ship artillery unable to fire, although this was confirmed recently, we have refined the characteristics down. Direct fire can be ordered at his units, although anything that would harm him simply will not be allowed to fire. Through magician overwatch, we can confirm that whatever Pax is doing is non-physical and non-magical. Likewise, I have always doubted it is mind magic, within dreams, or rather, nightmares, we can conceptualize killing the creature. Additionally, we can reconstruct his figure and destroy it. There is nothing fundamental about him that is immortal.
It is more as if he wields fate pre-emptively, and simply changes how the immediate future will go to ensure that whatever happens, he is unhurt.
Pax Report #19. Written by Goddess Kassandora, of War.
Olephia hovered in the air, her body held up in the air by the sound of her own hum. Every few seconds, red lightning would spiral out from her extremities as existence simply broke down around her. She, and she alone, had been the answer to the Rilian landbridge. The forces behind her were battle tested, a good amount of them served in the Second Expedition, but there was no reason wasting ammunition. She made this trip every four hours, six times a day. The relentless horde of demons marching in the armours, riding on their horses, holding up torches to give themselves light underneath Ashen Skies, were a river that ended in a waterfall. They fell over the endless cliff that was Olephia.
And now, as she prepared to incinerate yet another battalion with her voice, she looked down upon the white banners that Tartarus only deployed when Pax was present upon the battlefield. She had met the demon before, in the Great War. Kassandora had told her he was coming. Ships from the Imperial Navy were already sailing away, shelling the forces further south. They were huge floating fortresses, lit up by countless spotlights aimed in all directions, their guns blasting with a fury that they simply could not unleash when aimed at Pax.
Olephia pursed her lips. Anyone else was better in this situation. Fer, Anassa, Irinika, anyone. Even Kassandora and Malam would do more damage than she could. Her power was total and absolute and resulted in a destruction that was miles wide. She had tried it before, back then. No words had come out. She had to try it now too. The Goddess of Chaos and Uncreation took a deep breath and thought of a word. Something grand, something that would finish this. She only had permission for three syllables; she chose four instead.
Finality.
Olephia felt her throat catch.
No sound came out.
She could not speak.
The White Banners of Pax kept on marching towards the shoreline.
The Olephia phenomenon is known and tested. No change from the Great War, she cannot speak around the presence of Pax. Likewise, although we do not know about the efficiency of radiation and what it does to demon Princes, we know that they must have some level of inner healing comparable to Ardan Divinity. Olephia’s Curse has never even slowed down one of their royalty, we shall not rely on it.
Olephia tried to kill him before, her report has stated that she knew the feeling in an identical manner. Thus, we know one thing for certain. This is the same Prince Pax of Peace that we failed in killing back in the Great War. If anything, he has only grown more arrogant in his power.
Olephia said she could only hover in the air and watch as his banners moved underneath her.
Pax Report #31. Written by Goddess Kassandora, of War.
“Goddess Olephia has left the combat area, command is to fire on designated locations.” Captain Antonelli received the instruction from Rilian Shore Command. It was the first time since Olephia had arrived at this front that they actually needed to do anything, although that had been a welcome break. Being positioned miles, the most his artillery unit had seen of combat since Of Chaos had gotten here was sights of the massive atomic explosions and mushroom clouds she would unleash whenever she spoke. Those at least were a pretty sight compared to the usual darkness of Ashen Skies which swallowed the entire land.
“You heard the man! Prepare to fire!” Artillery guns turned and pointed upwards into the air, engines turned on and roared as they sucked in air through the heavy filters that needed to be replaced once a week. Trucks in the rear began to turn on, ready to bring more ammunition whenever one of the units would run out. Antonelli did not ask himself the obvious question, he did not want to know the answer. Why had Olephia been removed? If the Goddess of Chaos could not handle it, how could he?
A half minute later, guns began firing. The order was for continuous bombardment of the beachhead. Small arms gunfire was already coming from the bunker and trenchlines that fortified the immediate area. Those men were small fry though, compared to the queen of the battlefield that was artillery. “Gun calibrated and ready Sir!” One man called out. “Honour is all yours Captain!”
Antonelli put his hand on the lever to fire as the crew inside the camp wagon turned around to look at him. He took a breath. He stared at them, wide-eyed. The blood drained from his face slowly as he moved that arm about. No. It did work. It wasn’t… He tried again, fingers closed around the lever… “Sir?” One of the other men said. “Sir, just pull it.”
It was as if his body simply would not move. “I can’t.”
Artillery, even indirect, cannot fire at the vicinity of Pax. The effect was to cover an entire area. The strike was informative to say the least. It has been found on video that dust has settled upon him after the explosion. He had to brush it out of his hair and close his eyes. Like, a piece of rock hit him on the arm. Whether it cut the skin is unknown, although I doubt it: Demons generally have a thick leather for the skin.
Nevertheless, progress has been made. Maybe for the first time in history, the entire might of the Empire has managed to use all its strength to prove that it can indeed move the distance of a single blade of grass:
We know that he is not untouchable, merely unharmable.
Pax Report #53. Written by Goddess Kassandora, of War.
General Miryim of the 1st Strategic Missile Corp stared at the launch button of the Star One Nuclear Missile. Half a day ago, co-ordinates had come in. They were for the Rilian shoreline, although no one was to investigate. That was a direct order from Kassandora. So they had inputted the coordinates and they waited for the order to fire to come through.
It did, as expected. The lights had dimmed, men put on their glasses, cameras shifted to the inside of the launch silo. The whole procedure had gone smoothly, there were no fuel leaks, there was no miscalibration, no issues with the door, nothing whatsoever. Miryim felt two dozen pairs of eyes turn away from their dimmed computer screens to him. A map of a planned flight path was displayed upon the central monitor at the front of the bunker, it was waiting for the missile to launch.
General Miryim, in the black uniform, freshly made for him, stared at the utter failure that was his thumb hovering a hair’s width away from the launch button. That was all. A distance that was not even an inch and suddenly, he found himself unable to cross it. The stares at the elven general continued. What a show indeed, this was the first big firing of the Star One NMs and here he was.
The phone at his desk, one he was never supposed to call on but rather to answer only, rang. It was a lifeline, Miryim practically launched himself for it. There was nothing else to do or say, and the questioning gazes of the men under his command felt as if they were going to devour him. The red phone was affixed to a wire, he had to hold it away from his ear not to burst his drum, the voice though, he would recognise anywhere. Every soul in the Empire would, she had been on the news far too often to not be immediately recognisable. “Is there a reason for the delay?” Goddess Kassandora, of War, asked.
No point in hesitation. “The reason is me.” No point in lying.
“What are you doing now?”
“I…” What was he even doing now? What was this farce? “I am trying to launch the Star Missile.”
“Yes but what are you actually doing right now?” Miryim had to think on what to say. Kassandora explained herself. “Physically, not summed up, what stage of launch are you on right now?”
“The last one. I am looking at the launch switch. I…” He trailed off. “My hand is hovering. I don’t…” He trailed off, looking up at the men around him. “
“Can you press the button?”
“I cannot Goddess.” His finger quivered. “I… don’t understand what has come onto me, I…” He moved his hand around again to check if it still worked. It did. Of course it did. It could do everything but press that switch. “It’s not paralysis, I simply cannot press the button.”
“The fault is not yours General, do not apologise. Abort launch and re-engage on the third landbridge.” There was a pause, Miryim would not dare to drop the call on Kassandora. Maybe on lesser Divines, but definitely not on the woman who was his direct boss. “Do you know of Pax?”
Miryim thought for a moment, his cheeks going red. He should know, shouldn’t he? “Who?” He pursed his lips, realising who exactly was meant. “The Tartarian Prince Goddess? Do you mean him?”
“I do and thank you General.” Kassandora replied. “Continue on the original plan of the third landbridge. That is all. Do not worry, you are not in trouble.”
Nuclear Ballistic Missiles cannot be launched at the vicinity of Pax. General X is aware of Pax’s existence, although not closely enough that he could recognise the demon immediately by name.
Nevertheless, this avenue is considered closed. The Prince of Peace has been broadcast on our news. We will not be searching for a needle in a haystack, a person unaware of Pax in the Empire will either be a Wildman, some hermit that will require a campaign of philosophy against, or operating at the intelligence of one unable to read.
Pax is declared as consciously unharmable.
The next reports shall focus on methods of unconscious, unknowing, and most importantly, uncertain harm.
Pax Report #70. Written by Goddess Kassandora, of War.