Level-Up Apocalypse: Surviving With The Assimilation System

Chapter 112: The Cannoneer's Soul



"I can do it," Magnus spoke up, adjusting the mechanisms on his weapon.

Finn looked over at the man as the acid continued raining just a few steps away with the bestial roaring continuing. There was a certain look in the swede's eyes; something resolved.

"You can? What're you going to do?" Charlotte asked.

"If you can do it, then do it already! We're gonna melt away here!" Nova rushed him.

The childish way the bard spoke somehow managed to bring a small smile to break across the cannoneer's lips, even bringing a laugh from the usually stoic man in the dreadful situation.

"Ah…?" Nova reacted, unsure of what to make of the reaction.

"You're right," Magnus agreed. "I should hurry."

There was no hesitation as the cannoneer pulled the levers on the cannon, walking out from the shield's grace as if uncaring for the acid rain.

Finn reached out, calling to the man, "Hey! What're you–"

"Don't worry," Magnus assured him without looking back. "I'll get it done."

Even as Finn tried to step out as well with the spellblade attempting the same, a splash of the bile landed right in front of the barrier's reach.

'What the hell is he planning on doing?' Finn thought, watching the cannoneer approach the beast.

Alone in his approach, the cannoneer looked down at the cannon he wielded as it began to unwind itself, shifting on its own as a light swelled at its core. The dragon's roars fell deaf upon his ears, as did the droplets of tar and their burning touch go unrecognized as they landed on him.

'Sorry. If I said anything more, I know you'd all refuse–even if you needed to hold me down, even if it meant we'd all end up dying together. That's the kind of hard-headed optimists you all are. I'm more realistic, so this is the best I could manage,' Magnus thought.

With the beast in sight, he ran forward as the cannon reassembled itself on its own to accommodate the swelling energy, avoiding the downpour of acid.

'If I used this normally, the explosion would take out this entire chamber–nobody would be left standing. But, this is perfect–that gooey flesh it has…It can absorb just about all of the impact. I just need to be up close,' Magnus planned while closing the distance.

As he drew near to the beast, having to step through the puddle of the acid that had built up beneath it, the screams of those who realized his intentions befell his ears.

"Magnus! Don't–!" Charlotte yelled with tears in her eyes before gripping onto the man's arm beside her, "Finn…We can't let him do this!"

For a moment, the assassin didn't know what to make of it before finding himself once more with that tightness in his chest. It was that same feeling; a dreadfully painful ache when faced against impending sorrow.

He brought himself to move, taking a step towards the edge of the barrier, though found himself grabbed onto again.

"Mate, no!" Jasper said, holding onto him while simultaneously keeping his shield up, as much as it was a struggle to do so.

"Why're you stopping me? You know what he's planning to do, don't you!?" Finn sharply asked, yanking his arm away.

"I know, but–at this rate, we're all going to bite it, mate…I hate to say it, but this is our best chance!" Jasper told him with teary eyes, forcing it back. "I don't want it any more than you do!"

It was a truth that had to be swallowed, as much as it pained to do so, it had to be accepted. Finn stood there, watching the cannoneer approach the decayed dragon as his ears rang.

'Again–it's happening again. Is this all I can do? I just have to watch while others die in my place?' He questioned.

The uniform of the cannoneer had been eaten away by the downpour of endless acid, leaving his torso bare as the substance dripped down his skin. The man's chest began to be peeled away too, yet he pushed on, jumping up as he cocked his brightly-shining cannon back.

"Grrhhh!--" Magnus let out, pushing past the pain as the acid slid across his skin.

Used like a spear, the cannon was thrust forth as he plunged it straight into the chest of the dragon. He delved his other hand into its flesh, anchoring himself as he kept himself up close and personal with its disastrous form.

"...I made it…Alright, it's time–" Magnus said with an exhale of relief as he could feel the flesh of his arms being eroded by the moment as he clung to the accursed beast.

Staring that black mass of death face-to-face, for a moment, he recalled that small town, peacefully reading his book in the rain while being pestered by the baker. It was a pleasant thought; one a thousand times more preferable than the spot he found himself in.

Yet, he pulled the trigger.

["Calamity's Blossom"]

'I'm not doing this for the sake of humanity or our world. I can't bring myself to believe there's even a one percent chance it won't all end sooner or later. Still–you all believe; you're fighting for something like that, even if it may be nothing more than childish delusion.

Compared to me, who's only been holding on just to live, it's simple math, isn't it?' Magnus thought, feeling the heat bubble up right before him.

The cannon hummed as the light that built up within it continued to swell, bursting with such energy that even the dragon's flesh it was lodged into began to ripple and shine.

"Don't!--" Finn shouted, managing to stumble his way from beneath the barrier as he ran towards him.

Before he could even approach another meter, an eruption of fiery light from the cannoneer's position knocked him off his feet entirely. The shock wave brought him across the room, finding his back hitting the back wall as he looked up at the daunting sight.

The entire chamber rumbled as the volatile release bloomed from the dragon's body, engulfing it in bright, eradicating flames.

Amidst the center of the eradicating force, the man still clung to the beast even as its flesh bubbled and was burned away; even as his own flesh was left to the same fate.

["I suppose a part of me believes, too. A part of me wants to. I want to see the world as it was; to be able to read a book on a bench without a care. If there's even a chance–no matter how small–that it can be saved, if doing this brings us one step closer, then there's nothing to think about. There's nothing to regret; I made the right choice."]

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