083 - Resonance

At his feet were the bodies of Domitia and Valerius, laid down almost as if they were sleeping. A little ways away were Baqir and Zaynab - side by side, eyes wide open - the gold flecked pupils staring out blankly.

Dead. All dead.

Four more sleeping faces on the tree . .

"You've seen many strange things today ain't you, Prince?" Magnus walked towards the two cultivators entirely relaxed, as if he were on an afternoon stroll.

"Devil!" Dong-Geun called out in a panic, his voice shrill. A thick aura of Mens, like a cloud of yellow fog, from his every pore - Sung Hu readied a yellow blade, taking up a position right in front of the Martial Prince. "Stay back! AWAY! Sung Hu, do something!"

Sung Hu's eyes flashed - a beam of yellow light shot out, entering into Magnus' eyes. For an instant Magnus felt as if the world turned on its head, all the colours flashing - but only for an instant. He had been expecting this exact attack - the exact same technique that Soo and Min had used; the voice and the eyes.

"Doesn't the Segye Imperial Palace have any other tricks? Even Soo and Min were able to put up more of a fight, ha!" Magnus gestured to the nearby tree - for the first time Sung Hu and Dong-Geun saw the sleeping faces, saw Sung Soo upon the bark.

Sung Hu's face drained of blood. He had remained stoic throughout the entire ordeal; responding to every whim and command of his prince in the ways that a proper guard ought to. Now, his lower lip trembled.

"And Min?" Sung Hu asked quietly. "What has become of my daughter?"

Magnus shrugged, "She . . . escaped." He could see the pain and fear in the scarred man's eyes. "Don't worry, you'll be joining Soo soon, right here." A red-gold thread danced through the air in the space between Magnus and the two cultivators.

Sung Hu's eyes turned dark, the aura of Mens around him billowing out. In his hand the yellow blade nearly doubled in length, its edge a fiery white - around him the temperature suddenly increased.

Flames of the Soul! A forbidden Martial Court technique; igniting the very essence of life, burning through one's soul to make a single sword that could cut through the heavens!

Magnus laughed, stepping forward. "Pathetic! You think this will stop me? Come, come into my arms Dong-Geun, Sung Hu!"

Sung Hu held the fiery sword up, his body trembling and becoming withered - a single blow! One swing of the sword, that was all he was able to do, all that his soul and body could bare in the Flames of the Soul -

SLASH!

No fancy techniques, no tricks; Sung Hu's flesh withered, turning black, the lines in his face becoming profoundly deep - the fiery sword swept down, a single blaze cutting through the air. Around him all the leaves and roots, even the bark on the trees, crackled and dried, several branches even bursting into flames.

Magnus watched the sword descend - with a slow yet seemingly inevitable grace. If he were to step back or jump to a side he could easily avoid it, let Sung Hu swing his blade in vain and wither away . . he raised his arm, the single thread of red-gold coiling before him and going up to meet the blazing sword.

"Your dying sword, your blazing soul - Sung Hu, I accept it all!"

The fiery sword met with the red-gold thread of Vigour in an explosion of sparks, the mist of the Sleeping Forest churning between the trees and all through the clearing.

Sung Hu's Flames of the Soul was like a small sun, a bright blinding blaze in the shape of a sword, his hands turning black, the skin on his arms looked like two dry twigs. Not enough! The flames filled the air, the whole of the forest felt like the inside of an oven, but it wasn't nearly enough - Magnus' red-gold thread twisted through the air like a dragon swimming through the skies - not a scrap of flame could pass it - it could not get even an inch closer to his head.

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Sung Hu couldn't maintain it much longer, Magnus pointed a second finger, a second thread of red-gold erupted from the ground and straight at the scarred man piercing right through the side of his head.

In an instant the flames were extinguished. Sung Hu fell to the ground, his body splintering like a withered husk. For a moment a pained expression flashed on Magnus face, only for a moment. Next to Sung Soo appeared the faint outline of a face - calm, eyes closed, at peace.

Dong-Geun stared out in silence. The aura of Mens around him flickering, weak - not even a fraction as powerful as his guards, and weakening every with every passing moment. The Martial Prince shivered, out of his mind with fear - paralyzed, frozen in place from his head down to his toes - his mouth pulled down at the sides, eyes bulging, skin turned entirely pale - he didn't seem able to even breath or move a single inch as Magnus approached.

"And so, Prince, you are the last. The last of the brave invaders who so fearlessly set out into the Ether."

"..."

"Well? Nothing to say for yourself? No final blaze of glory? Even the Mithraic Seers attempted to fight . . ah well . ."

A single thread of red-gold appeared, dancing before Dong-Geun's eyes. Magnus looked down at him blankly, without contempt, without any passion at all. So it goes - fate, luck, destiny - whatever you might call it. A month ago, hells, even a couple of days ago he would have been entirely helpless before these seven - the Alchemists and the Seers would have torn him to pieces!

Even now, if he'd faced them in the real world there was a very good chance that he would have lost - that even with the power of a Celestial he would have been constrained and slowly torn apart. The seven that had come . . it was really their misfortune. The Alchemists had no potions, no guards - none of their usual means of fighting except for their strands of Animus. The Seers had only their song - none of their artifacts or tactical powers could be displayed. As for the Martial Court cultivators? They were the worst of off all; not even their swords at their sides, let alone the myriad of other weapons and formation techniques . .

Bad luck . . they'd been led into the worst of situations - equipped only for hunting Celestials in the Ether, not for suddenly finding themselves drawn into a material world where their ethereal bodies became flesh.

Now, the last of them. The pitiful Dong-Geun. A full Prince of the Segye Imperial Palace, a high ranking Cultivator of the Martial Courts - trembling and shaking in his boots!

Magnus flicked his finger, his Vigour moving back and forth before Dong-Geun's eyes. No need to draw this out, Kujata must be waiting - he had more than one thing to ask her, and now - with the memories and knowledge of Pontius and the others . . .

. . . sssssSSSSSSSSSS!

Kriiisssshhh!

A shower of blood erupted out from Magnus' chest splattering all over Dong-Geun. Magnus eyes went wide in shock. Bam! Again, another fierce blow, a second shower of gore - Magnus coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Magnus stumbled, the force of the blow bringing him to his knees. Too quick! There had been no warning - he had felt nothing, heard no footsteps, seen no movement.

"Magnus!" Hob was too his side - his face equally shocked - looking behind, below - nowhere! No one!

Bam! A third strike, Magnus fell to the ground, blood pouring from his chest and mouth, his eyes quickly coming to resemble those of a dead fish.