Bro, I'm not an Undead!

"Listen to the collective,

The collective of pure thought,

This indeed is collective,

The collective of lull thought,

The fire burning in the senses,

Let it cool and simmer down,

The fire raging to the sword,

Let it cool, let it simmer down,

The collective thought, the collective,

Come together quiet just as one,

The collective thought, the su-um,

Come together, lay hate down~"

The melody blossomed and flourished throughout all, bringing with it, first a degree of confusion, and then an almost graceful sense of ease within the hearts of all who heard it.

"Listen to the collective,

The collective of pure thought..."

Ardent Curses and humans alike, high shouldered and tense, began to relax, as though the reason for which they were engaged in the hostility suddenly vanished.

"The collective thoughts, the su-um,

Come together, lay hate down..."

Thrill's sight lost a large degree of focus. 

The immense negativity he had felt towards the flying cathedral, the one who floated above it, and the nine in brilliant tunics singing the sweet melody that threatened to calm him down, lessened a great deal.

He felt himself turning heavy. His body wanted to lie down. To relax.

He found his wand, which he had been holding up and firm, drop, its accusatory point slackening.

At first, he couldn't believe it.

He was losing his will to act upon his hostility.

His will to extract every bit of emotion from the ensnared victims and feed it to the prison ways ahead.... it was drifting off.

While the effects of the melody were more or less taking their time to fully grip him with more of the tune travelling in fickle arcs of light he heard, his weaker kin had fallen prey completely.

They had visibly relaxed, with some even having dropped their wands to the ground while gazing upward with twofold smiles of appreciation.

'Fools!' Thrill growled in his mind, finding that even this tone of aggression expressed only in the confines of his mind, was hard to completely pour out.

All around the green flora-covered land, many of the Faction members from different Factions had also fallen prey to the melody, and it seemed conventional methods of barricading the body to effects like this were ineffective.

Many were quickly losing their will to fight.

All they wanted to do, was to slump to the ground and look at the gorgeous cathedral while enjoying the ministrations of the Collective song.

High in the sky, Replicus and his crew were met with the same feeling.

Replicus felt his body begin to rebel against his rightfully placed tense mood.

His subordinates – Grim and Allora – were hit particularly hard, as their eyes glazed over, reflecting the magnificence conjured by the Mad Bishop.

Down below, where Replicus had dropped Pherdanta by Baddan, the Unlimited had also drooped lazily, while the Sky Watcher looked to be making attempts at resisting.

Replicus' sockets blinked rapidly.

'Dammit! That's shockingly effective!' he said while allowing his thought phantoms to manifest, and boost his mental capacity. 'This attack isn't like compulsion which works on the soul and in turn the body... no. It's appealing to our bodies directly. Soon, my mind might just collapse...'

It was freakish indeed.

To think a song with not-so-good lyrics was ending the strife, and in such a childishly fantastical manner!

It seemed the Mad Bishop had the perfect ability to counter the Ardent Curses.

Replicus didn't know how they were able to skirt compulsion – which wasn't relied on much by the Incandescent Stage experts in the Severed Union because there were public ways of avoiding it – but it came as a surprise to him that sound was effective against them.

Was it because it wasn't exactly harmful, like the scalding heat of the Scorching Tears for instance? Were there other stipulations to the protection around the Ardent Curses?

The answer hadn't come by the time Replicus felt himself buckle.

He was an inch close to beginning to subscribe to the belief that he was here on a mining excursion with a few pals, some of whom were friendly men with twice the amount of mouths; the better to gossip and giggle with.

However...

He suddenly stretched his hand towards Allora's abdomen.

The tall woman didn't seem to even notice while admiring the Mad Bishop who feigned directing the angelic choir she had created, what with the instrumental music pouring to back the vocalists from nowhere.

The Penetrator's hand was set alight with a brilliant blue hue, and there was a crack!

Allora's mana core broke, and her face transitioned from displaying peaceful bliss to deathly agony. She screamed hoarsely, which actually forced her to regain her senses!

At the same time, her mana blasted out like a flood, causing a miniature tornado around her.

"Reinforce our minds. Hurry!" Replicus gave her the order when her slightly bloodshot eyes turned to him in shock; she realised what had been happening to her, and that her master had delivered her from it.

Allora didn't take long to comprehend what Replicus meant.

The command was clear, but she knew as much as he did, that she was likely unable to execute it as potently as needed.

After all, she was still new with her powers.

An unseen blanket surged from Allora as she grunted with effort. It wrapped around her, Grim and Replicus in an instant. When she tried to extend it to Araeyn, who stood on the Empyrean Ribbon, she found it all warded away mysteriously.

"Don't mind him," Replicus said, seeing how puzzled she was when looking at the Apostle. "Try to reinforce our minds so we don't become completely helpless. I know you're still growing into your abilities, but you can do it!"

Allora nodded immediately.

Replicus was right.

She wasn't efficient yet with this, but regardless...

What he wanted her to do, was to use her Mind Casting to enhance their mental strength against the Bishop's song.

Indeed. Her Mind Casting.

Allora didn't only gain Unlimited mana with her class, the Charmed Illimitable Rounder. She also acquired the ability to tap into every basic – normal – class there was. The only downside was, she wasn't allowed to use her original class abilities – Shaman – in the process, as doing that would forcibly bring a hold to the Unlimited mana she could produce and her ability to Class Branch to the extreme.

Just as she had done during her spar with Kenno, Allora forced the massive amount of mental energy first into her own mind in order to discard the impeding thoughts and the weakness brought about by her entranced body.

It worked!

Her mind became clearer, and she wasn't constantly being assaulted by the notion that the Mad Bishop was some kind of Chosen of salvation surrounded by holy beings.

Right after securing herself, she went on to do the same for Grim and Replicus, the former of which blinked a couple of times and looked at himself with a strained face.

"What's going? Why do I feel so... heavy?" he asked.

Replicus spoke over him.

"Can you keep this up for the five of us?" he asked Allora.

The tall woman looked unsure.

"I can try."

Right when she answered, she found their group reunited with Baddan and Pherdanta on the ground.

Sticking to her word, Allora gave it her all, and tried to stimulate the twos' minds as well.

It wasn't easy.

The difficult could be compared to attempting to fill five small, waters bottles with narrow openings, using a bucket.

Allora managed, however clumsily.

That said, it wasn't as though she made everyone immune to the Bishop's frightening tactic.

She only made sure their bodies, which continued to heed the melody, didn't become so entranced that they made the mind follow suit.

This was good for now.

Replicus thought so at least.

It was certainly better than what many had to endure.

All the weaker Curses were practically incapacitated at this point, and among the Factions, only Warding Pride and four other Faction leaders had managed to protect their members from being turned into believers; some of them probably used methods similar to what Allora was doing.

Thrill was starting to kneel down, almost as though surrendering. 

He looked up with the remnants of his rage, brimming, flaring like living torch flame and the Mad Bishop looked down at him too.

He didn't know it, but things were about to get much worse than he could have imagined.