Chapter 59: Sampo: What Do You Mean You're a Masked Fool Going on the Trailblaze?
A flash of spatial displacement deposited the five of them onto the unforgiving tundra.
The instant their boots crunched against the permafrost, a bone-chilling gale howled past, carrying jagged ice crystals that bit into exposed skin like tiny daggers. As the ambient temperature plummeted, a fresh, glittering layer of white frost rapidly crystallized over the scorched earth.
Jarilo-VI. This world, buried in eternal winter, now stood on the precipice of massive ecological upheaval following the recent planetary-scale extermination strike.
Having finally regained her basic mobility, Delta stuck to Rekka like glue. Her reasoning was simple—after testing his current physical strength, she harbored a deep, lingering suspicion that this chaotic idiot might just trip and die for some absolutely ridiculous reason.
"Don't look at me with those eyes," Rekka sighed, catching her skeptical glare. "Do you remember your codename?"
"I remember," the pink-haired girl muttered, her tail flicking behind her. "It's Delta."
Stelle stood a few paces away, scratching her messy gray hair as she surveyed the massive, sweeping crater carved out by the Imaginary Storm. "By the way, that planetary-scale extermination cannon just now was definitely flashy..." She squinted toward the horizon. "But, uh... did you level the city along with it?"
"No." Rekka shot down the accusation without missing a beat. "The set frequency was locked exclusively onto the Antimatter Legion. To any other matter, it was no different than a stiff breeze blowing by."
"Fine, fine, you're the expert. You call the shots." Stelle shivered, pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders. "But it's freezing out here. I swear my snot is about to freeze into solid icicles."
Through the swirling curtain of wind and snow, the jagged silhouette of a colossal city loomed in the distance, a bastion of warmth built upon the frozen wastes.
"I'd suggest staying alert," Rekka warned, his breath pluming in the frigid air. "Although I cleared out a massive chunk of the targets, given the unique nature of their existence, a few hostile stragglers might have escaped elimination."
As if his words carried the absolute weight of law, the snowdrift ahead violently churned. Several twisted, jagged humanoid monsters clawed their way out of the ice, their dark armor glowing with sickly energy.
"Leave the trash to me." Delta's gaze sharpened into daggers. Her hands clamped down on the hilt of her massive greatsword.
With a low, guttural shout, she launched herself forward like a bolt of pink lightning. The heavy blade carved a devastating arc through the freezing air, leaving behind vibrant, chaotic splashes of red and blue paint in its wake. CRACK! The dull, sickening thud of the greatsword connecting with the monster sounded exactly like a sledgehammer tenderizing frozen meat.
"Second one!"
Delta executed a flawless mid-air roll, using her thick tail to push off a snowbank and vault higher. A second greatsword materialized in her left hand. She spun into a deadly, colorful cyclone.
"Swan Lake!"
For a veteran soldier like Delta, sweeping up this kind of cannon fodder was as natural as breathing. Within seconds, the monsters were reduced to scattered, frozen fragments.
"...Not even enough to warm me up," she grumbled, dragging her swords back.
She immediately sidled right back up to Rekka. It was noticeably warmer standing next to this guy than braving the open wind. After all, Delta didn't walk the Path of Trailblaze. She absolutely could not replicate March 7th's absurd feats—like getting sucked into a subspace storm, drifting through the vacuum of space for five system hours, flying 120,000 kilometers, and emerging completely unscathed with her biggest injury being a hoarse voice from crying too much. That level of cartoonish durability was way beyond her paygrade.
"Let me hide here. It's too damn cold," Delta muttered unashamedly, practically hugging his arm to siphon his body heat like a portable space heater.
"Look." Stelle pointed a gloved finger through the blizzard. "That looks like a giant robot."
Her golden eyes practically sparkled. "Mr. Yang would be ecstatic."
"How about taking a photo to show him?" Rekka suggested.
Knowing Welt's deep, poorly-hidden obsession with mechas, Stelle felt a deep sense of regret that she couldn't witness the usually composed, mature man lose his absolute mind on the spot.
"Sure, sure. You're quite the loyal friend," Rekka chuckled.
The upper torso of the colossal machine stood tall against the blizzard, though its lower half was buried and severely damaged, gears and massive armor plates shattered by centuries of ice.
Click!
Stelle snapped a picture with her phone and immediately fired it off to Welt.
Dan Heng observed the ruins in silence. He estimated that if this mechanical titan were to stand upright, it would rival the height of the thunderbolt mech on Rekka's warship. Maybe even a bit taller. Then again, Rekka's thunderbolt... could fly.
Stelle's phone buzzed. "Mr. Yang asked me to take a few more photos from different angles."
"Then take them." Rekka rubbed his hands together, exhaling a thick puff of white mist. "It's not like the big guy is going to run away."
March 7th bounded over, craning her neck to stare up at the massive, frost-covered mechanical head. Even after enduring long years of relentless wind and snow erosion, the cold, hard metallic lines still radiated a majestic, imposing grandeur.
"This thing must have been ridiculously powerful back in the day," she murmured in awe. "A civilization that could build a guy this big couldn't have been weak, no matter how you look at it..."
"They aren't weak now, either," Rekka said, gesturing toward the distant horizon. "Look. The city is still running."
Stelle's phone buzzed again. March 7th leaned over to peek at the screen and burst into a fit of giggles. "I knew Mr. Yang wouldn't be able to sit still!"
The group of five decided to split up to scout the perimeter.
Trudging through the snowbanks, Rekka and Delta soon stumbled upon a rather peculiar sight: a tall man with dark blue hair, currently tilting his head back to squeeze eye drops into his eyes.
Rekka raised an eyebrow. A mischievous smirk tugged at his lips. He silently pulled a small Stealth Cube from his inventory, activating its cloaking field, and crept up right behind the unsuspecting man.
Leaning in close, Rekka dropped his voice into a top-tier, gravelly, cinematic whisper.
"He~llo~ there~"
"Ah! Holy—!"
The blue-haired man nearly jumped out of his own skin, fumbling the eye drop bottle as he spun around, clutching his chest.
He blinked, his eyes widening as he registered the face in front of him. "...It's you?"
"That's right, it's me. Long time no see, friend."
Sampo Koski.
Strictly speaking, Sampo was the very first playable character Rekka had encountered in this universe.
Back when Rekka had first woken up, his very first daily transformation had forced him onto the Path of Elation as a Masked Fool. But he had been the weakest kind—possessing no real combat power, only the ability to alter his appearance, and he hadn't even known how to use that properly at first.
By sheer luck, he had bumped into Sampo. The seasoned mercenary had actually taken the time to teach Rekka how to channel the power of Elation to shift his form. At the time, Sampo had suspected Rekka was just some big shot pretending to be an idiot for kicks. But after confirming Rekka was genuinely a clueless rookie, Sampo had offered him a rare piece of sincere advice:
'You're not suited for the Tavern, friend. It's best you don't deal with those guys.'
Sampo's gaze shifted to Delta, who was still hovering close to Rekka. An exaggerated look of surprise washed over his face.
"I can't believe I'm running into you out here! Yo, is this your girlfriend?"
"No, she's my subordinate," Rekka corrected smoothly.
"Subordinate? I haven't seen you for a few days and you already have subordinates?" Sampo gasped, clutching his chest in mock betrayal.
"Ah~ I guess you could say I've recovered some things from my past."
"So that's how it is. But I... hmm?" Sampo's eyes drifted down, locking onto the distinct metallic pass pinned to Rekka's chest. He froze, completely lost in thought.
"You... joined the Trailblaze?"
A Masked Fool walking the Path of Trailblaze... Honestly? It actually seemed somewhat reasonable. After all, the Aeon of Elation had once disguised themselves as a Nameless just to mess with the Astral Express.
"Speaking of which," Sampo casually crossed his arms, though his eyes were sharp. "Do you happen to know what was up with that apocalyptic light show just now?"
"Oh, I did that."
"Oh... you—wait, what?" Sampo choked on his own spit. "You did that?!"
"Yes. I did it."
Sampo's eyes practically bulged out of his skull. He sized Rekka up and down, his theatrical expression shifting rapidly from shock, to utter confusion, and finally settling into a deep, subtle suspicion. "I haven't seen you for just a few days, and you've become this fierce?"
Are you serious?
But as Sampo looked closer, his brow furrowed.
"Where's the power of Elation on you? Why don't I sense even a trace of the Tavern's energy anymore?"
"Well..." Rekka rubbed the back of his neck. "It's a long story."
"Then make it short! I'm quite curious to know." Sampo leaned in, his usual jovial tone laced with genuine bewilderment. "I say, friend, your career change is a bit too thorough, don't you think?"
The man standing before him didn't look anything like the simple, easily fooled rookie he used to be. The chaotic, harmless aura was gone, replaced by something entirely different.
Sampo's mind raced.
So, what happened?
Could it be... he was in a state of amnesia before?
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