Sundiata

They were right back here. In Africa, only a few hundred kilometers from the place where he had awoken, and a couple of thousand from the heart of the New Malian Empire.

And once again, Zerzura was planned to be right in the line of fire, the "glorious capital" reduced to little more than a mobile bunker.

Well, the city hadn't been used against Typhon, but it had been intended to be; the fact that it had gotten a reprieve there had been a matter of luck, rather than choice.

Yet at the same time, he was feeling more confident in facing a World Boss than ever before.

Because they were finally hitting their stride, creating plans that were likely to both be followed and survive contact with the enemy.

For starters, the pre-prepared spells had not only been cast upon the area the monster was expected to emerge within, but they had also done the same with the city, nearly doubling the number of magical attacks that could be hurled into the face of the suneating serpent the moment it showed its face.

Though there were quite a few issues surrounding fighting it, namely, that using water wouldn't necessarily work. The full explanation was physics-heavy, but it basically boiled down to how much energy water could absorb, so while the monster itself might radiate a whole lot of heat, the wall of steam that would inevitably result from trying to extinguish the beast would be far more dangerous.

The solutions were liquid nitrogen, carbon dioxide, or several varieties of extinguishing foam typically used by a variety of fire services, depending on the exact nature of the monster's flames.

They'd all been prepared in what would hopefully be a sufficient quantity.

However, there were a few things water would be used for, chiefly among them, some kind of long-range water jet cutter cooked up by a pair of individuals that fit the modern "mad scientist" archetype to a T in all respects save the wild, white, and frizzy hair …

… they'd, quite literally, burned themselves bald at some point.

But there was far more to the tactics here than just doom, gloom, and fancy experimental weapons that would either make all the difference possible, or blow up in their faces.

For example, there were all sorts of interesting modern pieces of weaponry that had minimal fire involved yet maximum armor-piercing capability, as well as a whole lot of extremely impressive chemicals with all sorts of properties for the monster to enjoy.

And then, there was the beast itself

Apophis might have wings, but they'd clip them.

Apophis might breathe fire, but they'd prepared counters for the flames.

Apophis was probably venomous, but they had quite a few people immune to all manner of toxins, emphasis on all.

From there, things had … ahem, escalated.

Sundiata wasn't entirely sure who dreamed up all the apocalyptic possibilities that plans had then later been created for, but one thing was for certain: he would not want to have a mind that paranoid.

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Actually, there was a second one: he was very glad those plans had been made.

Plans that, at the end of the day, had been changed and rewritten so that, ultimately, the overall plan was shockingly simple and straightforward. All of the complexity had, somehow, been shuffled off to the side, ready to employ at a moment's notice yet unobtrusive all the same, and not something everyone on the field of battle would have to memorize; that would have been a recipe for disaster.

Tactics were vital to win battles; however, getting too bogged down in the details before you even knew what was what was a recipe for disaster.

One needed plans that were workable, ones that were not vulnerable to clever tactics from the other side, but at the same time, overcomplicating things was a great way to destroy your formation, morale, and chances at victory.

It had taken weeks of planning and resulted in quite a few shouting matches, especially between Genghis Khan and Charlemagne, but ultimately, things had been settled.

Now all there was left to do was see how it would work in practice.

***

Temujin

All told, unless the predictions had been horribly wrong, this World Boss was one he could use his troops against.

[Elemental Protection] had done nothing against Cipactli's bloody ocean, nor had it been able to allow horses or cars to move through the air, and it likely would not help much, or at all, for that matter, when confronting a mythical sea serpent another twenty days from now … but a flame-filled desert?

Even if the sand melted into glass, unless the sand was deep enough to swallow the horses and vehicles, they'd be fine.

… eh, the cars would get bogged down earlier than that, but those were cars. Reliable, until they weren't, and very picky in what terrain they were willing to move over.

For all the "progress" of modernity, newer wasn't automatically better, even if the people of this age liked to pretend it was.

Unless it was the internet. The internet, while lawless and chaotic, put so much information at his fingertips, all the knowledge of civilization, save the most secret of technologies, and even then, the scientific basis of such technologies was available.

If one could avoid stumbling down the rabbit hole of cat videos and those infernal "shorts," the potential was limitless.

One more minute until the third World Boss appeared.

Temujin patted his horse's side as it began to nervously tap its hooves, the animal clearly picking up on the nervousness he'd managed to hide from everyone. Everyone except the horse, that was.

… anyone who came into a battle like that with absolute confidence in his heart was an arrogant fool.

Or rather, any leader with such an opinion was. Because those in charge needed to remain aware of the tactical realities, to react to the world as it was, rather than the world as they wished it to be.

The troops, on the other hand, needed to be confident; they needed to feel like they were the best, and the enemy was nothing, as though victory was guaranteed and easy to reach.

Morale was vital.

But they should not feel unbeatable. Because a claim such as "I am unbeatable" was all too easily disproven, and when it inevitably was, then morale would crumble. And with it would go any chance at winning the fight.

Temujin fixed his eyes on the horizon, watching, waiting for the World Boss to reveal itself.

Yet it did not come from there, or from the ground.

The instant the clock ticked over to 10 o'clock, the sky flared brightly as the sun seemed to erupt, a blazing inferno that banished any of the night's chills, and a tear of flame, nearly invisible in the all-consuming light, began to fall towards the earth.

Until it touched the ground and cracked open like an egg, the bottom half crumbling away and folding into the miraculously intact top side.

The light died down as quickly as it had come, and for a brief moment, nothing happened, the world itself seeming to hold its breath even as the ground beneath the "egg" began to melt into lava.

A second passed.

Then another.

And then a titanic serpent, a cobra with its hood spread wide, casting a shadow large enough to cover the entire city of Zerzura, errupted from it in a spray of flaming fragments, obsidian scales gleaming with inner fire while a pair of titanic white wings extended about halfway down its body, an open maw filled with ivory fangs revealing a sun burning within.

Apothis the Suneater, Devourer of Ra, Primordial of Fire

That … that might be a problem.

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