The hivemind is conquering for me? Chapter 754: The Spark

Instantly, Nerissa obeyed the command. Obedience came naturally to her. Though Artemis wasn't her creator, she was the sibling of her creator, which alone required total submission.

She slipped her helmet back on before speaking. "My lady Goddess, may I discuss reincarnation with you? Could one of the gods' souls have... managed it after the incident?"

Artemis rolled her eyes as she replied. Her words weren't loud, yet they filled Nerissa's entire existence. "Oh, for... Why is everyone in this era afraid to mention that gravastar?" she muttered, then frowned while considering the query.

"Why do you ask this, Nerissa? Wait, Apollo? Sorry, hun, but he's not one of us. He's powerful for what he is, but I sense no spark in him. Still, I'm not complete—fragments of me exist out there, far weaker than him. Do you have grounds to suspect this about him? Speak freely; no punishment awaits."

Nerissa picked her words with caution. She aimed to honor Apollo's trust while staying as honest as she could with Artemis.

Perceiving her hesitation, Artemis said, "I've confined Skaja’s consciousness within her Mindspace. She won't hear a thing you say, and I won't interfere with your bond to that... man. You have my solemn promise."

Relieved by those words, Nerissa sighed and replied, "Numerous signs have led me here; I didn't leap to this conclusion. First, Apollo knows things he shouldn't. He misses basic common sense about daily life in Spartari, and well..."

Nerissa glanced around uneasily.

"He's dropped... remarks that convince me he knows Albion exists."

Shock widened Artemis’ eyes, overwhelming her. "Are you sure?"

Nerissa nodded, and Artemis mulled it over briefly. "I'll handle this and think on it. I can't possess her body much longer without causing her harm. I'll also tell Skaja what you truly are—she's open-minded; you'll be safe. I've lost faith in the empire entirely, so no one to ask, but if you locate any of my fragments, deliver them to Vallaheimr. That planet falls under my domain now; its people are mine. My power should serve them, not this empire it currently occupies..."

Nerissa nodded in agreement. "Consider it done. Some are held in the royal palace; we'll return them to you—they're rightfully yours."

"Mine by right?" Artemis laughed. "They are me, you little loukoumades. Now go, finish your preparations. I'm eager to watch the war ahead. Seeing a garden Nymph evolve into a fierce warrior again never fails to thrill me."

With a giddy nod, Nerissa exited the tent. ’That was incredible!’ she thought, utterly fangirling. Ages ago, hundreds of thousands of years back, she'd been near Artemis during a visit to her goddess Apollo, but never spoken to her. Now, she had to perform spectacularly and slaughter as many Drakoshi as possible for the goddess.

Her thrill surged so intensely that her heartbeat pounded in her throat. Calming down before rejoining Apollo seemed impossible.

...

As Nerissa departed the tent, Artemis remained briefly, her expression darkening at once. Only two knew of Albion besides the Nymphs—herself and her sister. If Apollo, that unappealing man, knew of Albion too? Could it be true?

That idea clung to her mind. Her own survival had been pure fortune. Reincarnation was feasible but rarely mastered. Athena, with her vast wisdom, was the sole god she figured could pull it off effortlessly.

’But if someone else endured... If my sister...’

She pushed the notion aside. In her fragile state, dashed hopes were too risky.

The limit approached; staying longer would harm Skaja. She refused to allow that. The Bloodshields were her daughters now, cherished deeply.

For the moment, she'd let Skaja observe and watch closely to check if any spark emerges in this Apollo.

It crossed her mind that this Apollo might develop a spark on his own, but such events hadn't occurred in eons. Even hers came from her Father. She chuckled wryly. What nonsense. Why had that even popped up?

’The sole path to that would demand his Origin borders on Omnikinetic might.’

...

An hour later, we set off at last. Armored vehicles carried us to the initial site: the Knight army. From afar, faint camp lights flickered, revealing two massive structures at its heart. As we drew near, Knight mechs materialized from thin air.

Noticing my bewilderment at their sudden appearance, Rhea explained, "Cham-e-leon cloak. It drains massive energy, so weapons go offline while cloaked. They need seconds to power up after, making them rare in fights. Perfect for sentries and border watch, though."

I nodded—pretty impressive stuff.

We disembarked at the camp, hit by an awesome display that instantly won me over to this knight group.

The knights stood in perfect formation, poised for our arrival. Their rigid discipline earned my respect.

Pages were ordinary fare—regular soldiers akin to Spartari Phalanx. Clad in standard combat armor, they all bore what seemed like laser rifles.

Squires, though... They defied my expectations of squires. They resembled full knights—classic fantasy style fused with cutting-edge Spartari tech.

Their armor outclassed Phalanx basics in toughness. Brass-hued with red highlights, bulky across the chest for extra protection. A red star marked the center, their order's emblem.

Squires donned cloaks with hoods over helmets; in shadows, only red eyes glowed, but my dark vision revealed the crimson-painted faceplates beneath.

Every armor piece gleamed with intricate engravings and decorations—like artifacts from a museum, yet battle-ready.

In all, one hundred fifty pages and fifty squires. I'd spotted ten knights thus far, raising the puzzle.

’Where are the castellans?’

Once we'd unloaded gear for the upcoming mission, an eight-meter knight mech approached, giant sword and shield in grip. It halted, plunged its blade into the earth, and saluted with a thunderous fist to its hull. Then, in a deep modulated tone, it spoke.

"A thousand victories upon you all, comrades in arms. I am Knight Captain Cassian the Bold. It's an honor to greet you. Now, might you direct me to the Sentinel Lambdason?"

Stepping up, I declared, "Right here."

The knight swiveled its frame, its optic beams fixing on my armor.

"Ah yes, exquisite gear, Sentinel. The brothers you rescued described your unique alien armor so vividly, I'd spot it in daylight instantly. We are privileged to serve as your reserve, Sentinel. Should disaster strike and retreat prove necessary, we'll sacrifice ourselves to honor your bravery."

Despite the mech's synthetic voice, regal command laced his words, surpassing most nobles I'd met.

Grinning, I replied boldly, "Here's hoping we avoid that."

"Hahaha! Well said, Apollo. If tonight succeeds, you'll find us charging tomorrow's battlefield too. Our pages crave glory. Right, lads?"

"We'll drown the Drakoshi in an ocean of their blood for the Order!" the pages roared together, while squires held silent.

Skaja chimed in, questioning the captain. "Captain, comms indicated Castellans would join us? Is that true? Where might they be?"

The captain pivoted his mech aside, retrieved his sword, and swept it high. "My apologies for the improper welcome—they were conserving power."

At his words, the two towering buildings behind—nearly eighteen meters high and vast—stirred to life, illuminating. Those colossal forms with enormous gun-arms and shoulder mounts sparked one epic thought in me.

’Fuck yeah!’