Racer Jack touched his goggles. He observed more carefully. It wasn't the usual chaotic street brawl. There was a specific patterns here.
The City Enforcers were all targeting the robed figures of the Trinity Churches. Their attacks were ferocious. Aimed at at breaking the barriers erected by them.
The shadowy Mystic Researcher Society did the same thing. They moved with chilling precision. They seemed to attack both the other factions. But that was just because all of them were ranged combatant and most Enforcers were melee fighters.
Their elemental spells didn't target the Enforcers. They bypassed the Enforcers' lines to strike directly at the Church faithful.
On the other side, the staunch and unyielding Father Mountaine roared commands. His voice was a gravelly bass that carried over the chaos.
He, along with acolytes from the Churches of Prosperity, Justice, and Redemption, was focused almost entirely on defense. Their shimmering barriers held. Against the rain of arcane bolts and weapon strikes.
Jack's sharp eyes narrowed. They weren't defending themselves so much as what was behind them.
There was a priest highly protected by a cluster of particularly devout acolytes. No. It was not the priest that they were protecting. It was the object he was holding. A chalice.
The chalice was bathed in an unsettling, faint crimson glow. It was exquisitely crafted. Appearing far too delicate for the maelstrom surrounding it. Yet it seemed untouched by the chaos. This was it. This was the prize.
Jack activated his [Eyes of Judgement]. Information flooded his mind. A blunt, concise summary of the object's nature:
[Name: Forbidden Chalice]
[Grade: Divine]
[Durability: Unbreakable]
[Special Ability: Equal Exchange Resurrection]
[Description: A relic of immense power, said to be capable of resurrecting the dead, but at a terrible price. Its true origins are untraceable. It might be either a gift from a vengeful deity or a blasphemous creation of primeval necromancers. It draws upon the life force of the living to restore the deceased, demanding an equivalent or greater sacrifice. Its very existence warps the natural order, making it an object of both immense desire and profound dread amongst those who understand its true nature.]
Jack whistled, a low, almost inaudible sound. "Well, that's just peachy. A resurrection chalice. Of course, it is. Because a regular Tuesday isn't complete without a magical artifact that screws with life and death." His whispered sarcasm was like a reflex of his current form.
Resurrection. And a Divine-grade artifact that was unbreakable. That was a game-changer. Enough to make legitimate factions created a chaotic battlefield in broad daylight. In the Noble District.
Before he could ponder further, a sudden, suffocating pressure descended upon the street. It was like the air itself had solidified. Pressing down on everything. Freezing the battle below.
Jack's senses screamed. Twelve distinct, immense presences bloomed into existence. Approaching very fast. All were undeniably in the Illuminated level. The absolute powerhouse characters.
"Oh, hell no!" Jack muttered. The goggle-shrouded eyes were widening. He wasn't about to get caught in the crossfire of titans. Not as Racer Jack.
He spotted a large, ornate stained-glass window on a nearby mansion, reflecting the chaotic scene. Perfect.
Without hesitation, Racer Jack streaked towards it. A blur of motion. He didn't slow. didn't hesitate.
His small, sharp body collided with the glass. Not shattering it, but passing through it as if it were water. Rippling inwards. The [Mysterious Mirror World].
The world around him warped. He was no longer in Lonestone City's Noble District. He was back to his personal Mirror Space. A pocket dimension accessible through reflective surfaces. His sanctuary.
Jack didn't waste a second. The speedy, goggled kamaitachi form dissolved in ten seconds. Replaced by a shimmering, spectral presence. The elegant, shadow-cloaked figure of Jack Mystery.
A top hat. A masked face. A flowing cape. A scepter-like torch... The ghost of a stage magician. This form was designed for stealth. For observation. For invisible manipulation. Perfect.
The spectral form disappeared. Invisible even to the most discerning of eyes. Jack Mystery ghosted out of the Mirror Space. Back to the real world.
The air outside was still heavy, thick with latent conflicts. But, the battle had ceased. The three factions stood frozen. Their previous combatants were now mere spectators. The twelve new arrivals were the stars now.
Jack drifted silently. His non-existent body barely stirring the dust. He activated [Eyes of Judgement] again. Sweeping over the new figures. Carefully avoiding deep appraisal.
He only needed names. Ranks. And general affiliations. Deeper scans could alert them. He wasn't that arrogant.
The first to speak was a booming voice that resonated with divine authority. "Cease this madness! Have you no respect for the sanctity of life? For the divine order?"
This was Cardinal Paddy. A towering figure from the Church of Prosperity. Clad in resplendent golden robes.
Beside him stood Cardinal Wheatfield. Equally imposing figure from the same church.
And, there was Arch-Inquisitor Oakstake. His stern, unyielding gaze seemed to pierce through Jack's invisibility for a terrifying second before passing him by.
Jack suppressed a shiver. This was the Trinity Church Faction. Reinforced. Although the powerhouses from Church of Justice and Church of Redemption didn's seem to be here.
These three big bosses were all focused on defending the Chalice they acquired. Creating a protective circle around it.
Opposite them, a man in regal attire stepped forward. King Willion. The head of Elrush Kingdom.
He was accompanied by General Primefeller. A grizzled warrior whose body bore the marks and scars of countless battles.
Not far, stood Countess Ashworth. Jack had encountered the beautiful yet ruthless noblewoman twice before. She was still radiating potent arcane energy and sinister aura.
Right beside her was Elder Keystone. A stoic, ancient figure whose presence hummed with grounded power.
This was the Royal Faction. The City Enforcers now falling back to form a protective perimeter behind them.
Then there were the Mystic Researchers. Their purple robed mages were now accompanied by two figures who seemed to warp the very light around them.
Archwitch Elfeather. An ugly old lady with evil witch vibe. Her hands were gnarled and sparking with raw energy,
And Grand Scholar Oarwinter. A bespectacled old man with long beard and bald head. His eyes held the cold, calculating glint.
Their earlier aggressive posture had settled into one of tense anticipation. They were from the Academy Faction.
Three others stood slightly apart. Their expressions were unreadable. Their allegiance was unproclaimed.
High Druid Banyan. A figure of ancient serenity. He seemed to be able to draw strength even from the cobblestones he was standing on.
Lady Taleweaver. An eccentric woman with colorful outfit. Her abstract-patterned robes were shimmering. She observed the situation with an almost detached curiosity.
And Enchantress Silverine. Her aura was a swirling vortex of beauty and danger. Like Lady Taleweaver, she simply watched the unfolding drama.
These were the neutral parties. The uncommitted powerhouses.
"Sanctity, Cardinal?" King Willion's voice was as sharp as a newly forged blade. "You speak of sanctity while our nation bleeds! How many heroes have fallen in the defense of this city, this kingdom? How many more will fall before we are granted a chance to reclaim what we've lost?"
His gaze fixed on the chalice. "That artifact represents an opportunity. A chance to rekindle the flame of our greatest champions!"
"And at what cost, Your Majesty?" Arch-Inquisitor Oakstake's voice was a low growl, devoid of pleasantries. "The 'Forbidden Chalice' was named so for a reason. It was a blasphemous perversion! This chalice defies the very laws of life and death. Laws established by the gods themselves!"
Archwitch Elfeather cackled. A dry, rustling sound. "Laws, Inquisitor? What are laws but frameworks for understanding? The artifact is a special phenomenon. A singular anomaly that defies known magical principles. It should be studied deeply to unlock its secrets. Not sealed."
"Unlocking secrets is one thing, Witch." Cardinal Wheatfield interjected. His voice was calmer but no less firm than Paddy's. "Unleashing horrors is another. Have you considered the implications? What if its use corrupts the very essence of those revived? Or worse, the user?"
King Willion scoffed. "What is this timid talk of 'what-ifs'? We have the most stringent mages, the most devout priests. We can establish safeguards. Are we so cowardly and useless to avoid using a tool out of superstition? This is an opportunity to reover our heroes."
General Primefeller nodded grimly. "The King speaks truth. My men fight valiantly. But the weight of our losses is heavy. To bring back even a handful of our heroic soldiers… It would change the tide in a dozen conflicts."
Jack listened. Floating invisibly not far away. Oh, the hypocrisy. The Church Faction wants it sealed because it's 'unnatural'. It was more like 'beyond their control and doctrine'.
The Royal Faction wants to use it to revived their heroes. But Jack was sure, they wouldn't dare to use it to resurrect authoritarian heroes that could threaten their authority. It was likely it was used to raise an army of more expendable pawns. Everyone's playing their angles.
Grand Scholar Oarwinter adjusted his spectacles. His voice was raspy. "The General speaks a practical application. But the mechanism of the artifact is more important to the nation. Is it truly a soul exchange? A spatial or tempral displacement of vital energy? Understanding it would advance our civilization much further!"
"And in doing so, there was a high chance you would rewrite reality itself into something unrecognizable." Arch-Inquisitor Oakstake countered.
Stepping closer to the chalice. Guarding it more fiercely. "Your 'scientific pursuit' often blinds you to moral implications, Scholar. We've seen the horrors born of unbridled curiosity. Using heretic object for either practical application or experiment... How is it different from those crazy cultists?"
King Willion's face tightened. "Are you comparing the Crown's legitimate efforts to the dark arts of a cult, Inquisitor? Watch your tongue. Do you think we don't know your bibles? This chalice is spoken of not as a heretic object, but as a tool of ultimate choice."
"Choice, Your Majesty, rarely comes without consequence. Especially when dealing with divine artifacts." Cardinal Paddy stated. "The very fact that it is called 'Forbidden' should give pause. There are reasons some knowledge, some power, is kept beyond mortal grasp. To wield it is to invite ruin, however noble the intention."
Countess Ashworth finally spoke. "Ruin? Or progress? The world changes, Cardinal. Steam power appeared because humans dared to make a different choice."
"And that caused the destruction of nature. How bad do you think the air of this city, Countess?" Cardinal Wheatfield shot back. "We will not let anyone use the artifact for whatever reason."
"We are not asking for your permission, Cardinals." King Willion declared. His voice was firm. Leaving no room for argument. "The Crown has determined that this artifact must be secured for the good of the kingdom. We will not allow it to be sealed away by biased religious dogma."
"And we will not allow it to fall into hands that would misuse it, even with noble intentions, Your Majesty." Cardinal Paddy countered. His stance was unwavering. "It's the Church's duty. We will seal it, for the safety of all."
Archwitch Elfeather spread her hands, a faint, crackling energy shimmering around them. "The Mystic Researcher Society will not allow this unique opportunity for understanding to be squandered. That is a scientific artifact, not a religious relic! Its secrets belong to the pursuit of knowledge, not dogma or political ambition!"
It was a stalemate. Three factions. Each was backed by formidable power. Each was convinced of their own righteousness. Each was eyeing the Forbidden Chalice.
Jack knew the kingdom had more powerhouses than these twelve. But it was clear these were the only ones present in the capital.
And they were more than enough to turn Lonestone City into a crater if this debate went sour. The thought made Jack grimaced under his mask.