POV: Brance
-You have received the Tribulation Quest: General Of The Light.-
-Tribulation Quest: General Of The Light.-
-A Call to Arms has been Issued. You will assume the role of a High Ranking General in the God Of Light’s Army. Your Goal is to defeat the opposing Army of Fallen Angels; the Timeframe and amount of enemies you face to complete this Quest are determined by the Difficulty Setting you Choose.-
-Please choose the Difficulty Setting you wish to partake in. *Reminder, a higher Difficulty Setting will result in better Rewards.-
-Difficulties below Master will be removed since you have a Bloodline and have multiple Stats that have Reached their Cap.-
– Master, Grandmaster, Legend.-
-You have selected the Grandmaster Difficulty, adjusting the settings and parameters for your Tribulation Quest.-
-In 5 minutes, you will be teleported to an ancient battleground. Upon entering the predetermined scenario, you will assume the position of the God Of Lights General of Command, The Archangel Michael Demiurgos.-
-Your Stats and Tier will temporarily advance to Tier-4, and you will be assimilated into Michael Demiurgos’ body. For all intents and purposes, you will become him for the duration of your Tribulation Quest.-
-The Timeframe for your Quest will be One Year. In that time, you must successfully defeat the forces of Lucifer’s third army. There will be a total of 6 Large-Scale Battles and 14 Skirmishes. Events will occur periodically and will not end until one side is annihilated or has surrendered.
-To receive a passing grade on your Quest, you must win 75% or more of the Large-Scale Battles and Skirmishes.-
These were the details Brance received 11 months ago; up until five months ago, things hadn’t been going well. Even with his past military service, nothing could have prepared him for the type of warfare he was thrown into. One must remember that on a good day when Brance was in the Marines, he had a squad of around a dozen people under his command, using rifles, rocket launchers, and grenades.
Yet now, he was in charge of hundreds of thousands of warriors and personnel, boasting a combat level between Tier-1 and Tier-5. Unlike Cynrik, who could actively piece together a plan on the fly and move his forces like chess pieces, Brance struggled just to keep his troops under his command.
The first two Skirmishes and even the initial Large-Scale Battle had gone horribly wrong, with Brance losing over 80% of his forces each time and jumping into battle himself. Once on the battlefield, Brance shined like never before, but it was still too little too late.
Even with his Pseudo-Tier-4 strength, he could not do anything aside from ensuring a path of retreat for his troops. Still, if there was one thing Brance excelled at, it was learning, and learn he did.
With the three losses under his belt, Brance consumed as much knowledge as possible in a short amount of time. His authority and rank in the God of Lights Army enabled him to obtain hundreds of documents, including tactical warfare booklets and maps. Brance even scanned all the documents his troops presented with their complete Stat profiles to shuffle them around and rebuild his lines.
By the time the Third Skirmish happened, Brance was better equipped, and it was a stunning victory for his side. Under his command, the God Of Light’s Army steamrolled through the barricades and obliterated multiple Citys under the control of the Fallen Angels.
Assigning proper supply lines and retraining his troops with different group combat tactics took several months. Now, on the cusp of the final Large-Scale Battle, Brance had completed his Quest by earning the minimum 75% Win rating.
Stationed atop a large hill overlooking his forces, Brance looked out the window of his command tent while lost in thought. In the distance, he spotted an equally large enemy force on the horizon.
“General Demiurgos, the approximate head count of the Fallen Angel’s army has come in.” A young warrior wearing silver armor said after entering Brance’s command tent and giving him a formal salute.
“Go ahead.” Turning around before nodding in acknowledgment of the young man’s Salute, Brance clasped his hands behind his back, under his new blazing red cape.
“Sir, our scouts have counted that 65% of the enemy forces are Tier-1, 25% are Tier-2, 8% are Tier-3, 2% are Tier-4, and 6 Tier-5 commanders have been spotted in the enemy base camp. This time, the General in charge of the enemy is The Demon Lord Livyatan. His power is unconfirmed, but he is believed to be Tier-6 or Higher.” Holding a paper and reading it aloud as he read, the silver armored young warrior finished his statement and was soon dismissed by Brance.
‘600k fucking enemies, not to mention a god damned Tier-6+ Demon Lord is leading the charge. With nowhere near half as many troops on my side, how in the hell do I win this battle?” Clenching his fists behind his back, Brance spun around and examined the terrain that would soon be filled with blood, smoke, and screams.
‘Michael should have been Tier-5, maybe Tier-6 when he led this battle, yet here I am Pseudo-Tier-4, with only the Stats to back that up and no added skills or Affinities; this is going to be a massive loss.’ Turning around and facing the large table with a staging map, Brance stared at the multiple figurines representing his forces.
‘This is the final battle I have to partake in. So far, I have won 11 Skirmishes and four Large-Scale Battles. I have already secured my 75%, but it doesn’t sit well that my final fight will be an inevitable loss. Wait a minute…this couldn’t have been where Lord Michael died…wait, then that means that fucking Livyatan is a Legacy Charge!’
Brance’s eyes shot wide open when the sudden realization hit him. The signs were all in plain sight. A losing uphill battle, a Tier-6 or higher Opponent, unless Michael had pulled something crazy out of his ass or Reinforcements arrived at the last second, Brance couldn’t find a plausible answer.
Having fought Michael, he knew the man wasn’t a coward, well, that is, unless he was utterly beaten and had his mind broken. Still, retreating wasn’t an option for the Prideful and Arrogant ArchAngel. Thus he would have gone down fighting.
The more Brance pondered on the topic of this being Michael’s last stand, the more concerned he became. Over the previous 11 months, it would be a lie to say that Brance hadn’t formed a kind of camaraderie or brotherhood with some of his underlings. That kind of thing happens when you live on a razor’s edge.
But never once did Brance fully immerse himself in the Quest. Deep down, although he could mingle and interact with the other people he shared a bloodline with, he knew most, if not all, of them were already dead, and the events he was living through were only a fleeting fragment of memories long lost.
‘Heh, even if I die here, I will still complete the Quest, so it is just a matter of going through the motions. All I can do now is try my best and earn what benefits I can.’ Arranging the figures in specific patterns on the map, Brance closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and walked over to the corner of the room, where a massive golden greatsword was resting in silence.
‘I really do need to get on forging one of these,’ Brance thought as he held up the HolyFlame Greatsword, “White Flame of Death.”
It had taken him weeks to get used to not seeing his own reflection when he looked into water, mirrors, or even the shiny broadside of the Greatsword. Still, as he looked into Michael’s golden iris reflected in WFD’s broadside, Brance smirked.
“One last ride, come along, WFD; we have Fallens to kill.” Swinging the Greatsword with a practiced flourish, Brance stored it in the holster on his back and exited the tent.
In contrast to the silence of his golden-domed tent, the base camp Brance’s troops had constructed was astronomically loud with the sounds of life. The mixture of LightBringer Warriors training in small groups, blacksmiths hammering away on their anvils, and constant shouts of orders coming from higher-ranked individuals were almost deafening.
But to Brance, these sounds had become second nature. 11 months living in similarly constructed basecamps had desensitized him to the loud, jarring noises. However, things always came to a screeching halt when he was present.
Upon laying eyes on the shiny golden armor, and massive Greatsword, every being Brance passed by would halt what they were doing and offer him a salute and greeting. Brance had never experienced this in his military service, as he wasn’t an Officer but instead enlisted ranked.
*Officers must attend military school and have their special training before entering the force. Once finished, they are the Commanders of any Branch of the Military. Enlisted go to Bootcamp and are, for lack of a better word, the grunts.*
So being in a high-ranking position and receiving salutes was quite the experience for Brance, but it quickly wore off.
Walking through the camp, Brance didn’t bother looking or acknowledging any other warriors and instead continued moving toward the meeting point for Higher Tiered individuals.
It took him half an hour to make his way through the winding combination of tents, workstations, and training grounds. When he finally arrived at a cluster of prefabricated cabins, Brance didn’t bother knocking and entered the biggest one.
“AREA TEN-HUT! *Come to attention*” It was unknown who shouted the call to attention, but once it was spoken, all 50 individuals in the building stopped what they were doing, jumped to their feet, and saluted their General.
“As you were,” Brance calmly stated as his eyes scanned the sizeable common room of what was known as the briefing area.
After Brance’s dismissal, the LightBringers took their seats, and with a simple glance, one could count five neat rows of chairs forming a large rectangle in the center of the room.
Walking up to the front of the room, Brance assumed his position behind a podium and continued meeting the eyes of every LightBringer present.
“In exactly 6 hours, our operation begins,” Brance began as he used his Light Affinity to create a Mana construct of the enemy’s base camp.
The construct was a three-dimensional map that hovered above everyone’s heads.
“The fifty of you have been hand-picked by me and assigned to one of the five squads, with each squad having its mission to complete.” Waving his hand, the Enochian symbol for the letter A appeared on the map.
“Alpha Squad, you and Beta Squad,” When Brance mentioned Beta squad, the symbol for the letter B appeared on the opposite side of the map, signifying west and east positions.
“will move in under cover of night and infiltrate the supply junctions indicated on the map. Your mission is one of stealth, so I expect no one to be caught. Although on the low end of the importance meter, as it isn’t assassinations like Charlie and Delta squads, your mission is crucial to eliminating the possibility of a prolonged battle.”
“Get in, destroy their supply caches, get out; that is all I expect from Alpha and Bravo during the first stage of the operation. You twenty are the quickest of the bunch, so you should have no problems executing your mission.”
“YES, GENERAL!” 20 LightBringer Warriors chanted in unison.
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