Napoleon's cannons roared with fury. The air filled with smoke and shrapnel; the deafening thunder of the beast's march took over the battlefield, and although the projectiles struck true, they melted long before reaching its main body.The turquoise Bronze Bull had become a living mountain of metal, consuming everything in its path.
Even though the system was feeding me the secrets of its new form, I was powerless to help. Even at this stage, I considered that if I allied myself with Napoleon, I might have some chance—certainly more than with the proud girl sprinting at full speed after the four-legged mountain. The beast ignored both her and the gunfire, eventually crashing into the slope where the horse was preparing for another leap. That leap never came; the poor animal was tragically embraced by the beast's heat.
If you've never heard a horse scream or whine in pain, let me tell you—it's a sound you never forget.Before hitting the ground, both the soldiers and Napoleon stopped atop the last hill. For some reason, the emperor slipped out of my sight, but at least the system confirmed he was still there, accompanied by only one of his companions.
The other black marker had been consumed along with the horse.
—Damn it, Rachel! Could you listen to me for once? Your direct attacks are useless!
—Useless is your defeatist attitude.
—Defeatist? —that comment lit me up more than if someone insulted my late mother—. Listen carefully, princess, I'm the only one qualified to act as a general. I am—
"Forgive me, legendary RPG heroes who accompanied my adolescence and early adulthood, for once again desecrating your names."
—I am Tristan, general of the great king Alexander XIII of Arvitia. With my strategies, he defeated the dragon of glacial death, Frostmagnar.
Every time that slogan left my mouth, I could feel dozens of developers crying somewhere.But unbelievably, I saw the princess's marker stop running, halting abruptly before turning toward me. She was so far away I couldn't see her, yet with a voice almost juvenile—emotional, fragile, like that of a middle or high school girl—she shouted:
—You can't be Tristan!
That scream made my head ring, leaving a persistent buzzing in my ears.
"What the hell is wrong with this woman?"
Unfortunately, reasoning with the little princess wasn't working, and reading the system's message only made my fear grow.
[Tauros Turquoise: "Indestructibility; with every hit, it generates more and more heat until it creates a scorching aura that consumes everything on the stage. The only way to reset this is…"]
"I can't do this alone… or maybe…"
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Napoleon was sweating cold. His soldier had fallen alongside his noble steed, and although he didn't even know his name, he felt a deep affection for that companion who had fought at his side.
—Damn it… —the small emperor muttered—. General Drouot, I need you to hold the beast back for one minute.
—My emperor, are you suggesting…?
—I have no other choice, general. I beg for your help.
The noble and loyal General Drouot bowed his head in a brief salute to his lord before turning away. With glassy eyes, he said:
—My emperor, even if this is my final will, I will defend you.
Napoleon knew it. He knew the beast had to be stopped now. Even the golden girl was insignificant compared to the monster that would charge in moments. Still, his greatest sorrow was his friend—his most loyal soldier—who, like him, was already deep in the red.
Drouot did not hesitate. From the ground, black iron vines emerged and, instead of forming a floor cannon, they shaped a musket. A large, heavy one, wielded with both hands as he charged suicidally toward the beast. The shots were even more powerful than the cannons'. That musket could be called a Star—a mass-produced Star that any soldier who had ever fired a weapon in war could wield.
But Drouot was exceptionally gifted in Nex, and so his shots were further amplified by his already high attack. He did not hesitate. He had faith. He wanted to believe in his lord.
The first shot was aimed at the beast's eye, which flickered out for a brief instant before blazing again. Another shot targeted the neck, right at the joints, but it merely bounced off. Refusing to believe it was impossible to repel the creature, he fired at every visible joint: legs, neck, even inside its mouth.It was useless. Not a single shot harmed the monster.
Even so, he wanted to believe his lord could defeat it. He knew better than anyone the power Napoleon wielded, and for that reason, he was willing to die for him—and for no one else.
—My emperor… Star: "For France".
Another Star that anyone who had fought for the French flag could manifest. It wasn't a legacy; it was the perfect embodiment of the legend of those who fight for a cause, boosting all of the user's attributes by up to five points.
His firm stance empowered his shot. One final shot, pushed to its absolute limit by his Nex. He knew it would leave him collapsed, but the minute his emperor needed was almost over. He knew it from the glow erupting from Napoleon's back—a pure, hopeful radiance.
Drouot never wanted to participate in this game. Neither he nor any of the generals who faithfully served the man who proclaimed himself emperor because of them did. His friend and mentor had earned not only his trust, but also his devotion. And so, if his banishment ensured that the legacy of Napoleon Bonaparte would remain firm in the firmament, he would give everything.
The shot was better described as a torrent of light, expanding until it reached the size of Drouot himself. It struck the beast head-on, and for the first time—even in its turquoise state—it was stopped. Its massive steps dug into the earth as it struggled against the force of the blast that struck between its horns.
Drouot stood firm, pushed backward by his own attack, while his coal-black musket disintegrated as the shot gradually lost its radiant energy.
Until it simply faded away.
The general's hand was charred. There was no point wondering if it would ever be useful again. Had he been able to return to the safe Nexo, he might have recovered—but fate had already been sealed… and he had lost.
Taurus tore its hooves free from the ground as the turquoise glow of its body intensified to the point where it seemed ready to explode. From where he stood, Drouot could feel it—the infernal heat advancing.
In his final act of loyalty to his emperor, he turned his back on the beast. It didn't need to run; merely walking was enough to incinerate everything around it. Burning from behind, the general performed his final salute. Raising his scorched hand, he whispered:
—For my emperor.
Engulfed in fine white flames.
—DROUOT!
The greatest leader France had ever known shouted. Broken, barely visible beyond the distant hill, he raised his hand and, with a trembling voice, bathed in a blinding glow, proclaimed:
—SECOND STAR, PUERTA DE ALCALÁ!