Machina Arcanis: Two Worlds Collided
Chapter 165. The Hidden Headcount

Country of Tabit, Northern Region of the Orien Continent.

The sky rumbled with the sound of massive Arcanite engines as three battlecruisers streaked across the distant sky, two medium side flanking the gargantuan Santose V. Numerous Amartus mobile suits performed chaotic yet orderly patrol patterns, buzzing along mountain ridges that jutted from the landscape like shards of white glass.

Jovian Xan Zepharion strolled through the mountainside, which was filled with exposed concrete and metal-pillared buildings. His purple eyes were keen, ever-watchful for potential threats. He kept a low profile, his dark assassin's uniform concealed beneath a long, black winter coat. The high altitude made the air thinner, but it didn’t bother him at all.

“Hades’s hell on Earth,” he grumbled to himself, noticing smoke rising from a nearby building on the slope. The people of Tabit scrambled for resources and safety following the fall of their nation.

“Even this place is under the Dunkelheit reign, they are not exempt from the Rhok’s war campaign. It is indeed the strangest time to witness,” Jovian pondered.

Destroyed buildings, corpses, and injured people laced the streets. The scent of death and desperation filled the atmosphere. The sounds of coughing, mumbling, and wailing were just as loud as the Arcanite engines overhead.

“It's always the people who get the worst of wars, while the leaders of both sides sit on their high thrones, safe and comfortable.” The disdain was a bitter taste in his mouth. A ruler, yes, but he’d rather be on the front line. It was never that simple.

The Celestius of Sagittarius strode through the ruins of the city, which had once been teeming with futuristic buildings in a unique style called Brutalism. Raw, dark grey concrete with curves, as well as angular and straight-line geometries, was employed boldly in repeated patterns here. This style invoked honesty and practicality, but to Jovian, this type of architecture represented a coldness and a detachment from nature.

The crowds, dressed in tattered clothing with bruised skin and wrapped in bandages, brushed past him as he took a left turn and exited through a narrow staircase. In the distant mountain, lay the monumental grand temple that seemingly merged into the landscape. Its sloped concrete roof, raw and bold in its aesthetic, was blanketed with white snow.

That temple was the home of the grand abbot of Tabit, the nation's leader, who supposedly resided in peace. Too bad peace is a luxury in this era, Jovian thought, his gaze hardening.

A shadowy figure emerged from the opposite side, wearing a dark assassin’s cloak, its fabric fluttering eerily.

“Nice of you to dress for the job for once,” Jovian greeted, his lips curling into a smirk. “Ziyue, long time no see.”

“Uncle,” Ziyue replied, her voice detached. Her two-toned fringe peeked out from her pulled-up hood.

“What? No hug?” Jovian quipped, extending both his arms.

Ziyue hugged herself and took two steps back with a revolted expression. “Your disguise needs a bit of work, uncle. It’s too clean for a war survivor,” she commented coldly.

Another female figure emerged from behind Jovian, her dark arc boots clapping against the stone floor. The girl was dressed in a leather coat with a hood concealing her upper face. Ziyue eyed her with caution but offered no words.

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Arc boots? An Arcanist? Ziyue’s mind raced.

Then, the nonchalant figure reported in a frigid tone, “The enemy has rallied the survivors on the northern side of the city.”

Jovian stroked his short beard, his back resting against the cold wall. “Same thing. I’ve observed something similar on the eastern border of Tabit. Perhaps they are taking prisoners of war or slaves?” he mused aloud, finding the practice unusual for the people of Dunkelheit.

Stepping closer to Jovian, Ziyue brushed her hands on his arms, feeling the metal of hidden gauntlets beneath his winter wear. “Oh, is that… the bunny girl?” she probed, narrowing her eyes curiously.

Jovian smiled, showing a full set of teeth and instead, responded with a thumbs-up. “Don’t worry, she’d easily beat the daylights out of any Lunarius…” he exaggerated.

“Really?” Ziyue’s scepticism was palpable.

Lupus cleared her throat. “I don’t need to beat any Lunarius. My enemy is the platinum knight, Rhok Wagner, and his forces,” she interjected, cocking her head back, eventually locking eyes with Ziyue. Lupus’s dull, gold-hued eyes were void of life like those of someone who was once full of love and life.

“My intel report said this rising faction is called ‘the Umbral’,” Ziyue said, twisting a lock of her fringe. “Haven’t you two read the report?” She eyed the two of them; their clueless expressions were the answer.

Jovian nodded sombrely. “The Umbral. Quite a fitting name for a ruthless faction.”

“Well, if you vouch for her, uncle,” Ziyue said to Jovian and then spun to Lupus. “Welcome aboard!” Ziyue exclaimed, extending her hand for a shake.

Lupus stared at her and ignored the gesture. “What’s the next stop, Celestius?”

“What’s your problem…” Ziyue scowled, resting her hands on her hips in disgruntlement.

“Don’t mind her, she means you no hostility,” Jovian winked at Ziyue. “We can try to locate the surrendering summit, over there.” He proposed, pointing his thumb at the grand temple, which stood out from the other structures in the capital city's backdrop.

The humming of the thrusters echoed as the Armatus flew past. Reflexively, the three moved into the shadows with their backs pressed against the wall, concealing their presence beneath the extended roof.

A faint blue glow illuminated Lupus’s beautiful visage as she checked the arc comm on her ring. “It’s about a 12-hour walk from where we are. We can make it within three hours if we sprint.”

“Save your strength, Lupus. We still have time. I’ve been following their campaign across the Orian continent from the north. Despite their rapid war tactics, they often spend weeks preparing for their next nation,” Jovian shared his analysis, while his hands rummaged through his clothing.

“Here, catch!” Jovian tossed a vial to Ziyue, who snatched it mid-air effortlessly.

“What’s this?” Ziyue asked, looking at the small vial, which glowed a mythical green. She brought it up to her eye level, closing one eye. Leaf-like particles of Iasis twirled within the container.

“Well, a little souvenir from Vivian,” Jovian responded.

“Hm? I didn’t know she was able to craft a container like this. This is mythic Iasis, right?” Ziyue shoved it into one of the pockets on her utility belt.

“Precisely the product of Primordial Essence, which Iasis is derived from. And the vial itself was specifically crafted by Caelia,” he presented proudly.

“Guessed it. I have never seen any Arc tool that traps the effect of the essence before. I mean, Arc weapons hold essences and are only activated by the bearer’s arcane affinity,” Ziyue mumbled softly, tapping her forearms. “How potent is this healing vial?”

“Very, very potent,” Jovian chirped. “Missing-limbs potent?” he eyed Lupus with a cunning grin.

The bunny Wildren didn’t find it amusing, so she simply averted her head towards the hopeless crowds that shuffled past the top of the stairs.

“Well, just use it when it’s absolutely necessary. It’s the only one we’ve got,” Jovian disclosed with a shrug.

“Perfect for those of us without an innate Iasis essence,” Ziyue concluded with a smirk, and the group began to descend the lonely stairs, carrying on with their mission.