The Innkeeper

Within the tavern castle, a gravely injured Magma Lion weakly looked up into the sky. He had survived, barely, not because of any strength of his own, but because of the enchantments the Condottiere had put on them, making it exceptionally hard for them to die - beyond what should normally be possible.

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Within his chest was a glass orb, cracked as if it was ready to fall apart at the slightest gust of wind. Within that orb were the rest of the mercenaries, frozen solid in a state of protected stasis.

Even then, the price they would pay for this survival was not small. That is, if they lived long enough to pay it to begin with.

The self-destruction of so many Heaven Immortals was bound to be devastating, and it was only made worse by the fact that the Gon had gone all out to develop special techniques to ensure maximum damage whenever they self-destructed. After all, this was standard practice among their slave armies.

Despite how critical the situation was, Kaemon held out hope. If the Condottiere had taken so many precautions for them, then it only made sense for the Innkeeper to take precautions for the group from the Inn as well.

Hopefully, there was some kind of protective technique or treasure they could employ. Kaemon looked up, hoping to find hope. All he saw instead was an endless canvas of white, with but a single figure visible against the backdrop.

Kaemon could not see Lex, but he felt in that moment the immense confidence his figure was giving off, reassuring everyone who looked at him. His shoulders were firm and strong, his back straight and unbending. It was as if his tiny figure could support the weight of the world all alone. Right now, that is exactly what he needed to do.

As he stepped forward, braving against the purposefully engineered force of destruction, Z, who remained invisible to everyone, raised his baton, and created music.

NovelFire

When the white light came, it was accompanied by a hush so profound it cast every echo into oblivion. It filled the air with a silence so absolute it exiled all sound as though it were blasphemy. But just as Lex took his first steps, intruding upon that sacred silence came the deep, resonant pulse of a bass guitar.

Deep and primal, like a war chant of defiance, the guitar strummed, its rhythm quick and energetic, as if rising to the impossible challenge.