The Chimeric Ascension of Lyudmila Springfield

Chapter Eighty-Two – High Elf of Liberation

It was the morning of the eventful day, and I sat at the kitchen table in the hideout, reading a report Verdant had put together. “The final shipment of weapons, armor, scrolls, and supplies from Guildmaster Thornbrook arrived this morning, Mila. They’re being handed out to everyone as we speak. At dusk, they’ll move to position and await the signal.”   

“She doesn’t even know she’s arming her own death,” I quipped, smiling at how easy it was to organize by telling people what they wanted to hear.    

I felt like a puppet master…   

“It’s…really happening, isn’t it?” Kull audibly gulped.   

“What of it? Are you still scared of me? Still believe me to be one of those feared chimera?”  

“More like in awe… The High Elf of Liberation… Wherever her beauty goes, freedom is assured to follow… That’s what they’re saying about you, you know. They haven’t even met you, but they’re convinced you’re some kind of… I don’t even know what to call it, but some goddess who commands a divine lion made of flames. You should hear the stories they’re saying about you.”   

Goddess? Ugh... 

“He’s right,” Verdant said. “I have no idea how you had the foresight to orchestrate this… You hold special eyes, but I wonder if they can perceive the future?”  

“Perhaps, but don’t mistake this for kindness. I’ve told you, but Plymoise is where my mother was born. It’s out of partial obligation to save her birth city-state from being destroyed. If she had been born in Atrix? Or Terokai? Or even another country?”  

“We get that,” said a spy I hadn’t spent much time with.   

“But don’t sell yourself short. I merely told you what to do. You had to fulfill the orders. You had to launch the raids on the government office, poisoned their water, bombed their ships, and set traps.  Even with Cid, Ayroix needed your close care to mold him into what we need him to be. You were all there to show compassion and convince him not to give up. I couldn’t have done that. I am a woman who works best from the shadows, but that will change.”  

“The bar, right?” asked Kull. “The southern one?”  

“Yes. I’ll launch the beginning attack after speaking with Ayroix. Oh, but we won’t be arriving alone.” 

“The reapers?” asked Kull. 

“Yes. I figure it’s time for Ayroix to meet the wielder of [Guardian of the Atrixian Flame]. And that’s when I’ll show my true appearance. Verdant, has Ayroix told his men to expect someone with Lysander’s appearance?” 

“Yes, Mila. He has. There won’t be any trouble.” 

“Rio’s going to die, then?” 

“Aww, don’t look so sad, Kull. You can mourn him if you’d like. We could even have a feast to celebrate Rio’s short-lived, but very experienced life. Only he could meet the reapers. Mila couldn’t have done it.” 

He nervously laughed and rubbed his head. “It’s...not so much uncomfortable as it is...odd to joke around like this when the powder keg is... shit, I don’t even know what to call it at this point. The tension is so thick. It’s like our guys are looking for an excuse to let loose. And the soldiers outside the city? Fights have broken out almost daily for the past two weeks. The squadron leaders are finding it hard to keep their men in line.” 

“Well, it’s either us or them.” 

“Margie’s right. Think of it like this. Plymoise stands to gain a valuable ally once our work is over,” I said.  

“Wouldn’t a treaty like that be seen as an act of war? It’s one thing to have a trading agreement, but another thing entirely for a city-state to pledge military might to defend another city-state. It’s outright unheard of.”  

“And maybe that’s what Parthina needs. You can’t be afraid of trying new things. The Heptarchis will be called once our work is over, but that’s where the true battle begins,” I said. “Verdant, ensure the others are ready. I want them in position. And verify that they understand my precise plans and have committed the strategy to memory. There will be chaos. There will be havoc. But they must follow it.”  I rubbed my shoulder, and Kull was concerned. "I've never manifested a puppet this long before," I said, reaching for the mana potion on the table. After tonight, I could take a long rest. I wasn’t tired. Or exhausted. I hadn’t slept for two weeks. But I wasn’t used to the constant drain on my biomass and mana.    

---

Under the cover of night, Verdant and I left the hideout and ventured to the southern side of town while the other spies went to their assigned locations.   

This area was effectively the most ‘dangerous’ place in Atrix for people loyal to anything other than the rebellion. It almost should’ve been lawless, but proper security was the first thing I had Cid drill into Ayroix’s head.   

You couldn't use tyranny to keep order if you fought to rid your land of a tyrant. 

That was the quickest way for a rebellion to break apart.   

As we walked, I had a [Skyview] window open and observed a particular scene playing out at our destination.    

Ayroix sat across from Cid in the dimly lantern-lit backroom of the bar, his nerves shot and his hands trembling because the fated day was so close. The weight of leading the rebellion felt like a mountain pressing down on his shoulders.  

Cid looked at Ayroix with concern in his eyes. "Take a deep breath," he said gently. "You can do this. I believe in you."  

Ayroix tried to inhale deeply, but his breaths were shaky and uneven. "Cid, I don't know if I can," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "The pressure... the responsibility... it's too much. It’s only just now hit me. In two hours, I…”  

Cid reached across the table and placed a steadying hand on Ayroix's. "You've been preparing for this moment," he said firmly. "You've trained, studied, and shown incredible strength and leadership. You're ready, Ayroix. Trust in yourself. Your father—your true father—would be so proud.”   

But the self-doubt was consuming Ayroix like a relentless fire.   

Cid's gaze softened, filled with compassion and understanding. "Fear is natural, Ayroix," he said, his voice soothing. "But don't let it cripple you. Embrace your nerves and turn them into determination. Remember why you're doing this – for the people who suffer under Atrix's rule, for the hope of a better future. Gregory Atrix is a tyrant. And he must be stopped. I’ve taught you what I knew. Dryke made you into a good man before his untimely death. You must use that knowledge to lead Atrix to a brighter future as its rightful ruler. Look at your support. Look at the men and women your words have drawn to your side.”   

Ayroix wiped away the tears, trying to regain his composure. "I don't want to let anyone down," he admitted, his voice cracking. “Especially you, Cid.” Ayroix looked at his scarred hands.    

Cid smiled warmly. "You won't. And even if things don't go perfectly, remember that you have allies by your side. We're in this together, Ayroix. You're not alone."  

The support from Cid was comforting, but Ayroix's heart still raced with uncertainty. "I'm afraid I'll disappoint the High Elf of Liberation," he confessed, his vulnerability bare.   

Cid's eyes sparkled with confidence. "She chose you for a reason," he said firmly. "Believe in her faith in you, just as I do. You can lead this rebellion to victory. If she had any doubts, she would’ve let us know. But she hasn’t. And you can take that to mean you have her respect.”   

As Ayroix struggled to control his breathing, he nodded, trying to absorb Cid's words. "I'll try," he said, his voice still shaky but laced with determination. "I'll do my best."  

Cid squeezed Ayroix's hand reassuringly. "That's all anyone can ask for," he said. "Believe in yourself, Ayroix. You've got this."  

His unwavering support gave Ayroix a glimmer of hope amidst the storm of self-doubt.   

I closed the [Skyview] window and prepared for my grand entrance as the High Elf of Victory as we drew nearer. We were stopped a few times by revolutionaries wearing the equipment freshly delivered by Thornbrook. But they knew Verdant. And once they saw my ears…  

They knew who I was.   

It was…unique, I suppose, seeing grown men drop to their knees in reverence after realizing the rumors were true.    

But I despised that treatment and promptly told them to stand. I wasn’t some goddess. I didn’t want to be worshipped.  

“Be on the lookout for a man with long flowing orange hair and a shield that sparkles,” I told everyone. “Send him my way.” 

Eventually, we made it to the bar.   

It was full of Ayroix’s closest allies, and they were talking. The star wore a suit of armor and carried an axe on his back. The equipment was enchanted with defensive effects—I had stolen the gear and other vital, powerful weapons and armor from under General Blackthorn’s nose. Those orange glasses looked off. He didn’t quite so much look like a nerd as something else I couldn’t put my finger on.   

Verdant opened the door, I walked in, and the place became as silent as a ghost town. All eyes were on me and the firearms I had holstered. The only sound was my heeled boots echoing off the wooden floor, followed by the cries of the chair at Ayroix’s table I pulled out.   

“…”  

“…”  

Ayroix and Cid remained silent when I sat. I crossed my arms and legs. Verdant stood beside me, her eyes slightly filled with nervousness.   

Guess this silence isn’t unexpected. 

The eerie silence was eventually killed by a dwarf offering a pint of mead. “Aye, the quickest way to break the tension is to share a drink. It’s the weakest we carry, but come, Long Ear. Let us drink!” 

“Drove!” Ayroix exclaimed. “Ms. High Elf, please—” 

I took the pint and raised it up. “To Lord Ayroix Atrix! The true, rightful ruler of Atrix! Let us drink to our victory! Let us drink to our liberation from the corrupt and repulsive Lord Atrix!”  

“That’s what I’m talking about, lassie! Let the booze flow as free as your beauty!” Drove bonked his cup against mine, and we downed our alcohol.   

Only then did the tension lower.   

In ten minutes, the bar was livelier than ever. It was nice seeing Ayroix calmer, too. Verdant joined the fun and allowed herself a shot or two.   

But she and Cid gave an explicit warning not to go overboard because the fight of their lives was about to start.    

“Ms—”  

“You can call me Mila, Ayroix,” I said. I ferried another cup to my lips and chugged it, receiving the admiration of the other dwarves present. This was my 8th cup, and I was the same as ever.   

[Ichor Manipulation] destroyed the alcohol. I could drink as much as I wanted, and I’d never feel an ounce drunk unless I wanted to because my body’s internal heat incinerated the liquor. 

“Is that fine? You’re—No, if you say it is, then it is. Mila, I…cannot thank you enough. I just… I don’t even know where to start.”  

“Then do not force the words. Let them flow when they’re ready. But to answer your question, you’re more important than you realize. We High Elves see decades and centuries in advance. And I desire peace to come to Plymoise. You were the perfect option. I know of your hardships and struggles.”  

“I still don’t…”  

“Doubts? Even after the High Elf of Liberation has given you her acknowledgment?”  

“What?” Ayroix raised his hands and shook his head. “Please, it’s—”  

“Haha!” I laughed and further broke the tension. “Tis just a joke, boy. But you’re important to the peace I wish to keep in Plymoise.” Really, I was only doing this for Mom and Sekh. I… honestly didn’t care about anything else. I didn’t have space in my heart because I had more important things.   

But these people looked to me for guidance. I saw their faith from a mere gaze. Verdant and her spies saluted me every morning. To them, I was something else.   

I wasn’t just the High Elf of Liberation. I was a symbol of hope and peace—of a woman with powerful enough magic to grasp the city-state of Atrix in my hands and mold it to my whims.   

Ayroix didn’t know he was artificially turned into a freedom fighter. He was a tool in my workbench. That was all. Everything about his ascent to the revolution’s leader was expertly plotted by hands that he didn’t even know existed.   

In short... 

He was a pawn.  

Everyone here was one... 

... 

“Plymoise, huh? Not Parthina?”  

"Perhaps," I replied, my gaze sweeping across those assembled. "But let us focus on the night. You will not be fighting alone, my friends!" I raised my voice and stood, feeling the weight of their hopeful eyes upon me. “In the face of tyranny, we stand united. With Ayroix as our beacon and our cause as our fuel, victory is not just a possibility! It is our destiny. Atrix shall be liberated from its tyrannical chains, and its people shall breathe the air of freedom once more without being duty-bound to keep up Gregory’s militaristic conquest of failures that threaten to destroy your home! Side by side, we shall prevail, and the future will remember this day as the turning point that ignited the flames of change!"    

“To Lord Ayroix Atrix! To the High Elf of Liberation!” The entire bar cheered, and then...   

He arrived.   

I turned to the door and watched, and everyone followed my gaze to stare at a man with armor meticulously shined to a polished sheen. The Citrine Bulwark was displayed so prominently on his back.   

My little speech had been calculated to end right when this man showed up. I grabbed a mug and approached. “Don’t be alarmed. This is Lysander. You may not know him, but you’ve heard the whispers about his organization. The Citrine Reapers aren’t a myth. They exist. But they’re not the horrible nightmares you think them to be. Like everyone, they’re victims of Little Gregory after being swayed by false words and empty promises. Their families are held hostage by the very man we will oust from his throne of power!”   

“Gregory won’t live to see the morning sun!!!” shouted someone. Others cheered and raised their mugs, and I offered one to Lysander.    

“Rio, I presume?” he asked, taking it.    

“Yes, and no. Rio’s a fake name I sometimes use. And you’ve seen my prowess. Altering my body and voice with illusion magic is but child’s play. My name is Lyudmila, the High Elf of Liberation. This is our second in-person meeting, but it is nice to make your acquaintance, my friend.” I held out a hand, and he hesitated a heartbeat before shaking it. "And please, call me Mila."

We returned to the table with Ayroix, and he introduced himself to Lysander. I honestly didn’t know what to expect. Would Lysander admit the truth about how he killed Dryke? Ayroix knew his father was behind that murder, but he didn’t know who carried it out.    

“I sense the making of a great man within you,” Lysander finally said after Ayroix asked if something was wrong. The commander wasn’t aware of Cid’s identity as my clone or wooden puppet, but it must’ve been a shock to see the face of a man he had once killed in cold blood. But Lysander never raised a word about that sinful night. He promised that the reapers would support their new lord. “The others wanted me to thank you for them. And to apologize.”   

“About their families?”   

“Yes. That feeble lord was too drunk to notice the others slipping away. They never once thought reuniting with their loved ones would be possible in this life.”   

“And now they’re safe outside of town?”   

“Why are you asking as if you didn’t watch it? I know you did. You said nothing escaped your watchful gaze.”   

I laughed. “You’re right. It’s all-knowing and all-seeing. Nothing happens without me being aware of it. But that’s good. I’m happy. And once tonight is over... Families will finally be reunited.”   

“Yes... They’re prepared, Mila.”   

“That’s what I like to hear. With that said... Let’s get serious.” I hopped on a table, faced the crowd, and told them to get ready because it was time to delve into the last-minute specifics of the plan. “Now is the time to ask any pressing questions. Your lives may depend on it!”   

Verdant's messengers had confirmed that everyone had memorized what I—Cid—Ayroix—wanted them to do, but you couldn’t go wrong with double or triple-checking, especially if it was something this important.    

But as we chatted, I eventually acquired four titles for my work in orchestrating the revolution. They were impressive and imparted desired beneficial effects.     

[Rebel Champion] amplified my combat prowess and increased my strength and agility during battle.     

[Liberation Vanguard] bolstered my leadership and enhanced my charisma and presence, granting a passive aura that boosted morale and my comrades’ performance amid conflict.     

[Voice of the Oppressed] was gained via my clones, but it only now showed up because the people I had ‘listened’ to approached and thanked me for truly hearing them out. I didn’t remember doing that, so it must've been Tris when she controlled Cid or another clone.   

[Protector of the Revolution] fortified my defensive capabilities, increasing my resilience and durability against physical and magical attacks.     

For the moment, I equipped [Liberation Vanguard] and [Protector of the Revolution]. They were the most useful, and I confirmed the bonuses via [Deduction] on Ayroix, Verdant, and the others after their activity log alerted them.    

The atmosphere around me turned deadly serious when there were five minutes to go. The dwarf Drove silently wiped his mouth and held a hand to his hammer. Verdant gripped her daggers, and Cid and Ayroix looked at each other and hugged as Lysander tenderly brushed his hand against his shield. At first, the others didn’t know how to react. No one believed the Citrine Reapers existed, but the ever-friendly Drove made the first move and casually chatted up Lysander, significantly lowering the tension.    

I merely sat in silence, staring at my rifle. That had come up a lot. A High Elf using weapons most associated with Dark Elves was rare. You’d be more likely to find an albino crow in the middle of a dark, dank forest that never experienced sunlight.     

“How I wish you were here. Sekh…”    

“Sekh?” I looked up and saw Verdant sitting on the table. “I’ve never heard you say that name before,” she said, crossing her legs. Ayroix and the others were still doing the final pre-fight check of their equipment.      

“She’s someone important. You could call her Surtr’s original summoner. She’s the reason why I’m even here. This rebellion wouldn’t be possible without her.”    

“Where is she?”    

My words stubbornly clung to my throat. “Sekh's taking a break. I wish to return to her soon, but I don’t know when that day will come.”    

Verdant smiled. “Then I shall pray for it to arrive soon.”    

There was just something about her expression that made me reconsider a bunch of things-- not about using the rebellion as an excuse to grow in power. I was fine and had made my peace with it.     

But it was about a few other things I may have been narrow-minded about.      

This feeling in my heart…I didn’t hate it, but it was unnatural. I wasn’t sure how to receive or resolve it...   

…but there wasn’t time to dwell on it.     

It was time to act. We left and lined up in front of the bar. I stood at the front and told any mages present to use flame barrier magic. Four nodded, chanted, and enveloped the group in a translucent crimson light.   

“Stand behind me, Lysander. Raise your shield and help.” The long orange-haired man nodded and did what I asked, and a hundred gasps emerged behind me when I used [Ira Ignis]. The familiar wrath flowed through my veins. The dripping flames from my ethereal dragon horns danced when they hit the ground. But the crimson glow was perhaps the most dazzling sight...until the pressure descended around us.   

Lysander grunted. His shield’s unique ability activated and redirected the magical heat back to me. “You...weren’t lying about your true strength being enough...to burn the city.”   

The discomfort wasn’t neutralized.   

“I was not, Lysander. Now, observe and watch... And please try to hold on. I’m using the minimum to achieve our initial goals, so this overwhelming pressure won’t last much longer.”   

Slowly, I raised my rifle and watched it transform into the living spectrum of fire. [Fire Rain] flowed through it. And an orb of deadly, damaging fire amassed itself at the barrel's end.     

It grew until the mana I packed had nowhere else to go. The writhing orb nearly lost its shape. That was to be expected since it was the size of a large sedan.     

[Fire Rain] had never been this heavily packed before. This proved how strong I’d gotten since the battle to protect Plymoise from those seven ships.      

Wayward assimilation here and there added up...especially when a clone found time to hang out at the graveyard. That strength, no matter how small, ultimately added up. I couldn’t refrain from even the smallest meal if I wanted to amass more power. 

I confirmed my targets using [Skyview]’s linked targeting array. Tris helped me with the fine-tuning until the chances of missing were 0.   

Are you ready, Tris?    

I am, my lord.    

I’m sorry.     

Why the apology?    

It feels like I’ve been asking the impossible of you lately. I promise things will calm down soon. And when they do, let me take care of you. I’ll do anything you want. You deserve it.      

Your kind offer warms my heart, my lord. I wish to remain by your side until the end of time…but I know that answer will not satisfy you. Umm... May I have time to think about what I want?    

Of course.     

Thank you. The precise adjustments are finished. Feel free to begin whenever you wish. Let your roar echo throughout the city.      

Finally…    

I released the trigger.     

The thick, fat orb shot high into the sky—ascending past the very clouds, at which it exploded like a bomb, brightening the night sky. It cast a light over half of Atrix…but the spewing flames that poured like flaming rain targeted the barracks…    

This was the signal.