Chapter 153: The Puppet Master’s Stage
The flight to Portentia was a blur of wind and cold starlight. Nox pushed his new wings to their limit, the void energy propelling him through the night sky at a speed that would have torn a normal man apart. Below him, the dark, sleeping landscape of the new world rushed by.
’The high school,’ he thought, his jaw clenched. ’Of course it’s the school. The universe has a sick sense of humor.’
He arrived in a little over an hour, a dark, winged shadow descending from the heavens. He landed silently on the rooftop of a building overlooking his old high school. The place was a warzone.
The "base" the girls had established was under siege. A small, fortified section of the school, probably the old gymnasium, was surrounded by a massive, chaotic army of players. They weren’t fighting with any kind of strategy; they were just a mob, throwing themselves at the walls in waves.
And controlling them, standing on the roof of the main school building like a conductor leading an orchestra, was a single figure. He was a man in a long, tattered coat, his face hidden by the shadow of a wide-brimmed hat. Thin, almost invisible threads of purple energy extended from his fingertips, connecting to the players below, making them dance and fight like marionettes.
The Puppet Master.
Nox could see Kendra on the barricades, her skin hardened to a stony gray as she held the line against the tide of puppet-players. He saw Vasa on the roof, creating walls of ice to slow their advance. And Yeda... Yeda was a whirlwind of silver light, her soul-linked blade a blur as she cut down anyone who managed to breach the walls. They were holding, but just barely.
[Analysis: The enemy commander is a high-level Controller-class player,] Liona’s voice reported. [His ’Puppet Strings’ ability allows him to dominate the will of weaker players. The dominated subjects retain their combat skills but lose all sense of self-preservation. A direct assault on the army is inefficient. The commander is the primary target.]
’I know,’ Nox thought, his eyes fixed on the man on the roof. ’Cut the strings, and the puppets fall.’
He didn’t wait for his army to arrive. This was personal.