EPISODE 157: LIGHT OF THE END 3
— GREAT EDRYAN, YEAR 7291. SEASON: COLOR FADING.
No matter the circumstances, you are NOT to strike against Edryan. A [Penalty] is a joint punishment inflicted by the Twelve Thrones. Should it be inflicted, it will significantly strengthen the magi and weaken the rest of the world. The magi will come, and they will be repelled just as they were the first time… just as they were the second time.
Continue your focus on data gathering and transmission. Should any major changes begin in Edryan, then you are to maintain your support—under no circumstances should you act to weaken Edryan, no matter how promising the strike may be.
As for the [Golden Age] , there are chances of its activation are there, but the requirements are high. The [Chosen of Madris] knowledge of another world will likely allow the magi to enter such an age. No matter, they will fall under the Light of the Sun.
— Elder Eye response sent to their contact at Imperius Academy.
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Zie Breaker stood up, carefully positioned next to Simra—his action was followed by the multiple Challengers standing on the plateau. Not a sound was made, but the growls and yips of the wolves below settled as the theme music for the battle to come. Simra squeezed the leather handle of her shield, her sword hand ready to pull her blade free in the instance of trouble.
Zie silently pulled out a wand, the pair naturally forming a formation taught to the students of Imperius Academy. Both were students of Class One and even if they were not as familiar with one another, their training still allowed them to work together. No one spoke, but Simra’s and Zie’s movements were similarly presented throughout the plateau. The air was thick with the scent of blood, must, and a soft breeze that carried the smell of the forest.
“I shall allow each of you one chance for surrender,” a calm voice stated.
Instantly, heads turned to a simply armored youth who appeared no older than seventeen. His hair was curly, with black glossy curls falling just past his ears. His skin was bronze, just a few shades away from brown, while his eyes were cold. He gazed around, looking at each of the twenty to make it onto the plateau.
When his golden-brown eyes met Simra’s, she instantly felt like she was in the presence of the clergymen. Only, the youth before them felt nothing like the gentle healing presences of the priestesses. It was nothing like Madria’s calm and welcoming presence, instead, it was much more hardened—one prepared for war.
“You’re Coro Ante — War Paladin—do you believe you can finish us all off together ,” one voice asked, attempting to rile up the crowd against Coro.
Coro Ante chuckled. He was tall, taller than Simra by a head, nearly two. He wore a simple off-white armor with dull gold highlights that wasn’t much different than her own—it looked like a hand-me-down. The symbol of the Goddess covered his chest—two fists with their fore-knuckles touching. Instead of the standard knight equipment, Coro Ante held a rectangular shield and a strange T-shaped sword—its tip appearing as a slightly curved version of the letter. It could have been mistaken for a short-blade pickaxe had the sword not had all sharp edges. Like the rest of his equipment, everything he held looked worn and as Simra looked closer, she could tell it was slightly too big for the young man.
“That was your only warning. I give everyone a chance, one .”
She stayed quiet, as did Zie. Instead of communicating verbally, she slightly signaled with her hand and body language, which was enough to get her message across as she checked over her Life Points. The plateau the Challenger’s found themselves on wasn’t big, just a bit over forty meters in diameter. Simra and Zie remained close to the edge, as did most of their opponents.
HP: 349/390
SP: 357/360
MP: 437/480
‘Stay put, wait for the action to start.’
“IT SEEMS OUR FIGHTERS ARE HESITATING TO BEGIN, IT IS FORTUNATE THAT GREEN FOREST IS AN ARTIFICIAL DUNGEON—HOW ABOUT WE SET THE SPARK TO IGNITE THE FLAMES BENETH THEM!”
The crowd rumbled at Announcer Zuud’s words. While he said so, he signaled one of the mages in the room. The mage stood up and quickly sent a pulse of magic through the air—a message sent to the [Dungeon Master] in charge of [Green Forest].
“The battle is heating up, and anything can occur. Your Highness Lawruthian, who do you believe holds the chance of seizing the first victory of the Challenger’s Ring?”
The people of the Imperius Colosseum listened in, expectant and curious at their
[Chosen’s] thoughts on the matter. Throughout the battle, the commentators provided insights and things most of the audience wouldn’t have understood. Commentating wasn’t new, but having such prestigious guests was something most enjoyers never experienced. The commentating was necessary, as this time it was far too monuments of a task to transmit the images and sound. Outside the cheers of the crowds and the commentators speaking, there was no other sound to accompany their view of the battle.
Prince Lawruthian laughed, a clear sound that was unrestrained and free. He watched as the plateau the Challengers stood upon slowly began to descend. It was slow, but the giant wolves below grew increasingly excited and reinvigorated their attempts to climb above.
“When all else fails… always bet on Imperius .”
Simra could not exactly say how the battle began, only all she remembered was a rumble on the ground. That simple action caused a spark as skills flew, and the Challengers waged war. Three Challengers attacked Coro Ante at once, but he easily confronted them as they came—the four moving to the center of the plateau. That was all Simra received the opportunity to see before five men and women came at them with swiftness. She didn’t allow them to finish their approach before she was already dashing into the midst of the group. She couldn’t allow them to control the flow of the battle, or defeat against such a large group was inevitable. Their attackers hadn’t even allowed them the opportunity to move far from the cliff’s edge.
“(Imperius Aegis),” she activated a core skill, a golden glow covering her armored form for a moment. From that glow, a shield of the same color emerged to slowly float around her.
(Imperius Aegis)
Function:
Increase Base Defense by 350%. Create a hovering shield that will absorb an additional 350% damage equal to your Base Defense.
Cost/Upkeep:
50 SP, 50 MP activation. 15 MP,15 SP per thirty seconds. Shield reactivation: 50 MP.
SHHHHHHLING!
Simra’s blade slid from its sheathe in one fluid motion, her shield perfectly deflecting the slice of a blade. She stabbed forward, not bothering to defend a second attacker’s strike, as she managed to successfully draw the attention of three of them.
The young man before her snarled. “ Bitch , how dare you. Know your place [Commoner].”
Her blade was deflected with the same skill as she and Simra knew she held a tough battle ahead. Her armored-covered eyes locked onto the opponents before her. He would PAY for his words.
Imperius Aegis has blocked -320 damage. 1,219 defense remaining.
Simra pivoted, not allowing the second swing from attacker number two to strike her. The (Imperius Aegis), her secondary shield, would only be for mistakes now. She briefly glanced at her third opponent. She was a mage wearing the traditional battle robes of the magi, a young woman barely older than herself. Yet, her face was filled with a viciousness that made Simra believe she’d wronged the woman in a past life. It was clear she was amid spell casting and would strike shortly. Her eyes didn’t stray for long. The opponent before her held most of her attention. Simra focused, envisioning her battle as one against her master. It always drew out the best of her fighting potential.
The sounds of clashing echoed through the plateau. Those who qualified for the Challenger’s Ring understood that the whole of Edryan would hear of the tale to come. Steel struck steel, sparks flying, and spells blasting away. There was chaos, but of the hundred-strong group, the twenty here proved themselves to be the superior fighters. Or perhaps they were only the luckiest to survive until the end. Red blood flowed, as the magi-humans did not see one another as brothers and sisters—only enemies. The words of the [Chosen of Madris] both during the first day, and today, ignited a desire within them. Right here, right now, they put their… everything on the line against one another. Their names would be heard throughout Great Edryan.
Many were from minor noble houses. Houses that dreamed of more—houses declining and such. Others were [Adventurers] who believed in their skill and faced life-death battles in the depths of the earth daily. Those who wished for riches but found that the profession was far more dangerous than advertised. The students of the academy were neither, but even without the order of Prince Lawruthian, they would have volunteered.
Who doesn’t lust after glory?
“Huuuuh… woooooo,” Simra exhaled—her mind sharpening.
“Again,” Aurora said.
Her master slowly walked around her—and, in Simra’s vision, she went from one woman to two, three, four, five, six, seven . Her body continued to multiply until dozens of copies of her master surrounded the young woman—only three of the copies stood out, far above the rest. Against the wall watching silently were other students who the Saint of Swords took a fancy too. They, too, had gone through such a similar experience and knew the world of pain incoming.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
No one knew why, or what made the Saint of Swords take a fancy to certain students in the academy. All they understood is that such opportunities do not come often, especially for those of more… mundane births—a thing the Saint was not of.
A clone of Aurora attacked, viciously swiping her blade downward, but slightly exposing her side as her shield was drawn back. Simra spun, her body sliding around the attack's direction as her blade snaked its way toward the Saint’s side. A second attack drew near her back—powerful, and clearly skill boosted to Simra’s senses. She shifted, her body flashing a small distance away as the attack missed on both sides. There was not one opponent, but three.
Magic flashed, a third attack disrupting the ground beneath her and causing her, and the footing of an opponent, to slip. If she fell, she would die, Saint Aurora’s methods were harsh and uncompromising. Simra pushed back with her own magic, a jet of air pushing her back up—an expensive mistake, as it cost her more than double a chanted runic spell would have. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the opportunity to chant a spell. In that time, the three readjusted themselves and prepared to strike again. It was clear they weren’t as familiar with one another—a blessing for her.
Simra’s eyes once again found her first attacker. The copy of the Saint of Swords smirked back, an action that seemed to irritate her to no end.
“(Temperance),” she activated, the words of Saint Aurora guiding her.
‘Do not focus on one opponent in a battle against many. Your actions must always be measured, calculated, and adaptable to draw any who are against you into a trap. Yet, one against two, three, four… many—may find it difficult to succeed in such a task. No more than two of an untrained group can attack at once, three should a group have sufficient experience with one another. Let them trip themselves up, instead, focus your mind to keep calm and seek that opportunity.’
(Temperance) has broken (Taunt).
Her eyes finally snapped away from the first attacker. He was good, his initial words to her a ruse to draw her into a taunt. She hadn’t even felt the touch of magic that forced her to focus on him. He straightened up, recognizing that she escaped from his skill.
“She’s broken out of it,” he warned calmly, circling her.
Simra didn’t dare to look away from her opponents, but she needed an opportunity—and, her best bet was making one herself. She bolted toward the second attacker, her steps flashed once again. Her Mana Points had gone down nearly by a hundred in the few moments of their fight. She wasn’t close to the red yet, but if she didn’t act, then they would exhaust her until death. It was time to be a bit more wasteful.
“(Imperius Zone Control).”
(Imperius Zone Control)
Function:
Enemies within a 5-meter radius cannot draw on external sources for their spell-casting. All their mana costs are upheld by themselves, increasing their mana expenditure by a minimum of 25% for the duration of the effect.
Function:
Enemies within the field experience a 50% increase in casting time.
Cost/Upkeep:
70 MP, 30 SP. 20 MP, 5 SP per thirty seconds.
There was a skill that made the knights of the queendom renowned throughout the world. It came in many shapes, it held many names. Houses, such as the Drumians, held their own specific version—(Drumian Combat Arts: Zone Control). This was the skill that kept [Mages], [Spell-casters], and more in check.
The world around Simra turned mute to the magi-humans present in the radius—all three of her attackers. The mana that always held a stable presence in the air seemed to disperse, no longer free as Simra came into control of the area. She wasn’t done, far from it as she swept low and came into the space of her second attacker. He was a heavyset man, and armored, but she held a skill for that too. Simra’s blade glowed—red-gold, as a sense of oppression entered the air.
Judgement was here.
He pulled his shield forward, body flashing colors as he activated a skill to defend himself. The earth surged upwards to cover his body in a second layer of defenses. He wasn’t a defensive-based class, but it was clear that he was heading in that direction.
Her blade, matte black like the rest of her equipment, shown with a stunning silver-white light. Its light casts all shadows away as judgment comes. Simra’s body was low, her strike held imitations of the strike Liana Drumian concussed her with. Only, Simra wasn’t going to concuss her opponent.
“(Imperius Judgement).”
(Imperius Judgment)
Function:
Increases attack damage by 250% for a single powerful strike.
Function:
Reduce the target’s defense by 50% for ten seconds.
Function:
Release a shockwave dealing 100% Base Attack damage in a three-meter radius around the target.
Cost:
100 SP, 50 MP. Reactivation: 30 SP, 10 MP.
Her blade impacted, light flashing and blinding onlookers. An explosion rang out, and a dust cloud covered the impact area. The explosion was not the first, nor would it be the last heard on the battlefield—not as the [Lord of Combustion] made himself known.
Zie scoffed at the two who believed themselves capable of taking him out. Just like Simra, he hadn’t let the two who diverged from her and toward him the opportunity to take the initiative—that was meant for students of Imperius Academy. There were six enemies, and Zie sought an opportunity to finish them all.
His wand waved through the air, as he moved leftward—readying himself for a change in the battlefield and to help Simra should she prove… inadequate. There were plenty of strong opponents here, and who knew how long he’d need her.
“ Flame of Man, fed by the Air of Change, unite to unleash the devastation known as (Combustion Ball).”
He chanted the short three runes to create what was an equivalent of a (Fireball) and other similar early types of attacks learned. Quickly two more (Combustion Balls) appeared in the air, following him as he moved. His opponents chased, but all he focused on was circling the battle Simra fought to get into place. A simple tactic the fighters of the Imperius Academy learned.
He fired off a (Combustion Ball) when one of the two fighters attempted an approach—their explosive power keeping the two at bay. They were not (Spell-Swords)—and it was far too easy for Zie to critically wound them with his spells. It was far too expensive for minor noble houses to consistently train a single person who needed to be both good at close combat and magic. Instead, they were warriors who enhanced their ability through magic differently.
The chance Zie waited for appeared shortly, he watched as Simra impacted into a heavily shielded opponent. Her second two attackers were stunned at the impact and distracted for a moment—a perfect moment for him to strike.
CRITICAL HIT!
You have slain Iten, -755 HP.
CRITICAL HIT!
You have slain Sena, -1,435 HP.
CRITICAL HIT!
You have slain Laun, -1,460 HP.
Simra burst through the dust, passing Zie and the two slain attackers who’d cornered her by the cliff’s edge, her blade striking true as she surprised one of Zie’s two attackers. He’d move close, close enough to her impact zone that her surprise attack hadn’t been detected in time. Her blade slipped between his armored body and head, cleanly slicing his neck off. She pivoted, the second attacker close enough to shield bash and force him to lose his footing.
He would not get back up to fix that mistake.
CRITICAL HIT!
You have slain Quex, -657 HP.
CRITICAL HIT!
You have slain Mao, -599 HP.
Her body halted near the edge of the plateau. The five opponents finished. Only a few minutes passed since the start of the final battle. There weren’t many left and after a quick glance at her Life Points, Simra knew to finish off the few Challengers would take more skill than she displayed before.
HP: 349/390
SP: 257/360
MP: 197/480
Zie approached her, an approving look on his face. He held a hand out, reaching toward Simra’s shoulder as if to comfort her.
“You did good,” he began, hand clasping her shoulder.
She hadn’t liked Zie. His attitude when they first met during the four’s travel to the palace didn’t help. Nor did his lack of socialization with her during their training by Johann and Melina help improve his image. However, his display of skill was unquestionable. Now, they found themselves as a finalist for the first Battle Royal in the Challenger’s Ring. Yet, with all this going on, and the small camaraderie they displayed during that short, but intense battle…
Why was her body falling from the side of the cliff?
“Sorry about this, but there can only be one winner.”