Jace charged.

If he didn’t do anything, he’d die. It was either him or them.

He impaled the closest with the Whistling Blade. The shimmering edge of the sword cleaved straight through the soldier’s breastplate and slid out to the other side. He hadn’t been sure how much force he needed, but with his attribute shards distributed, it was more than enough. He stumbled forward, bowling the soldier over and knocking him to the ground.

Jace ripped the Whistling Blade free. With an explosion of sparks and a spatter of boiling blood, it slid out of the armour.

The rest of the soldiers raised their rifles, recovering from Kinfild’s blinding technique. Jace counted five of them on this side of the canyon—five left.

Kinfild swatted a soldier with his staff, and Lessa ripped the rifle out of the same soldier’s hands. She blasted him, and at point-blank range, it shattered his visor and seared through his head. He collapsed.

Another soldier raised his rifle and pointed it at Kinfild’s head, but before he could fire, Jace hacked the weapon in half with the Whistling Blade. The glass sword was heavier than anything he’d swung before, and it wasn’t like a rifle that he just needed to point and shoot. It wouldn’t be pretty. He slammed the hilt into the soldier’s visor, then slashed through the soldier’s cuirass.

Something slammed into Jace’s back. He stumbled forward. A soldier’s rifle clunked—the man was preparing another shot. Jace reached back and slashed wildly. The tip of the Whistling Blade sliced through the soldier’s neck.

Two left. One was an officer of some sort; his helmet had an orange holographic plume. He carried a pistol, and he fired it at Kinfild. It spewed a smaller blast of magenta plasma, which struck the Wielder in the shoulder. Kinfild winced and staggered.

No matter Kinfild’s strength, a blast of plasma still did damage. Rifles put magic in the hands of average civilians.

Jace wheeled around and slashed off the officer’s hand. As the man staggered backwards, Lessa blasted him in the chest with the stolen rifle. The shot cracked the armour, but just barely. Jace plunged the Whistling Blade through the crack in the armour.

The last soldier, who had previously been fumbling with his rifle’s bolt, now tried to club Jace with his rifle’s stock. Jace blocked the attack just in time. Then, with his Whistling Blade, he slashed upwards through the man’s body, slicing him in half.

Panting, Jace turned the Whistling Blade over and tried to rest on it like a cane. The tip burnt through the mud, and he stumbled forward until he could steady himself with his own two legs.

He glanced around at the fallen soldiers. He had killed five of the six soldiers himself. His gut heated up, and golden dust swirled around his chest. As Kinfild had suggested earlier, killing proper living beings would grant him Aes as well, being a Core Hunter.

“We are not done yet,” Kinfild warned. A blast of magenta plasma raced across from the other side of the canyon, but it flew harmlessly into the forest.

Kinfild brazenly marched over to where Ryn cowered. Ryn opened his eyes cautiously. “You…you killed them?” He glanced around at the dead soldiers, then placed a hand on his mouth and retched. “By the Split, you did! Arcane-historians-in-training shouldn’t have to see this—even in their doctorate…”

“Stay down,” Kinfild instructed. Ryn obliged. He even laid flat on his stomach.

“Is he a Wielder?” Jace whispered, ducking behind a tree.

“He is a researcher with some spiritual potential, but he is mainly a cardsmith—someone who crafts technique cards. He is not useful in combat.”

“I can hear you,” Ryn grumbled.

“I only speak the truth.”

He couldn’t help them get out of this, then. Jace slipped out of cover and crept as close to the edge of the canyon as he dared. He stayed hidden behind the thick trunk of a pine tree. There were another six soldiers on the other side—no officers among them.

Five of the soldiers took aim with their rifles and fired a barrage. One began to cross the natural rock bridge. He led with his rifle.

Jace gulped, then tucked his head back into cover. He needed to get across and deal with the soldiers. It was him or them. Eventually, the soldiers would get lucky—or their blasts would chew through the trunks of the trees.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

A hyperjump would get him across the canyon, but if he rammed a heavily-armoured soldier at lightspeed, it would hurt both of them. (And ramming seemed to be the only option while the soldier stood on the stone bridge.)

Sure, he’d been able to plow through a darkling, but not without damaging his sleeves and arms. Armour? He'd break his own arms.

He ran to the closest of the fallen soldiers and bent down. As quickly as he could, he unbuckled the man’s silver vambraces and slipped the armour onto his own forearms. He made sure the metal was facing forward, so that when he held his forearms up, he’d have something to strike with.

That, combined with his enhanced Resistance rating, had to be enough.

“How’s your aim?” Jace asked Kinfild and Lessa.

Kinfild shrugged, but Lessa said, “Father taught me to shoot, and he never missed.”

“Cover me, then.” Jace passed Kinfild a rifle—Lessa already held one. “I’ll get their attention.” He leaned forwards and tucked his arms up. He picked his target: the other side of the canyon, across the stone bridge. He exhaled, pushed with his Aes, and activated his technique card.

His embows cried out in discomfort and his bones shook. It felt like he had just been crushed under a massive stone block. When the flashed faded, all that remained of the soldier were scraps of armour and a trail of blood.

There was no time to ponder it. Jace had emerged on the other side of the canyon, and there were soldiers all around. He swept the Whistling Blade at the nearest soldier, slicing through the man’s chest. The other soldiers turned and pointed their rifles, but before they could fire, Kinfild and Lessa shot them.

Jace lunged at the last two soldiers. They were both pulling their rifles’ bolts back. He stabbed the Whistling Blade through the one man’s neck. As the soldier staggered, Jace ripped it free, raised it, and tried to cut straight down towards the next soldier. The soldier stepped to the side to dodge the attack, but put himself closer to the edge of the canyon. Jace pushed him off the edge.

Jace dropped to one knee and set the Whistling Blade down on the ground. He allowed himself to breathe heavily. He hadn’t even realized that the edges of his vision were starting to blur until now.

Once he had caught his breath, he stood back up and flicked the Whistling Blade, incinerating any blood left on it. Then he tucked it back into its sheath.

Kinfild and Lessa ran across the bridge. Kinfild cast aside his stolen rifle, but Lessa had tossed hers over her shoulder and let it hang on its strap.

“Okay, that was pretty cool!” Lessa chirped. “See, this is why we go on adventures—and why you should let me come! It was just like ‘wham’, then ‘pow’, then…ugh, I’ve been reading too many holocomics…”

Jace cleared his throat awkwardly. He didn’t know how to respond, so instead, he looked at Kinfild. “Are you alright, Mr. Baldwin?” the Wielder asked.

Jace said, “Yes, I’m fine.” He walked over to meet them—at the edge of the bridge. He looked down at the nearest soldier’s corpse. As he stared, he felt his chest heating up again, and more Aes poured into his body. “Who were they?”

“Koedor-Terginian soldiers,” Kinfild said. “We’re in a system controlled by their empire, but…” He trailed off, stroking his beard. “It doesn’t explain why they’d open fire on one of their own citizens, and especially an Elder of the Crimson Table.”

Lessa pointed back across the canyon at Ryn. “Twenty Starrealm Solars says he knows something.”

“You don’t have that money to give,” Kinfild muttered. Still, he turned around and led them back across the stone bridge to Ryn—the man was still cowering on the ground. Kinfild hauled him up to his feet by the collar and demanded, “What was that? What happened?”

“W—what?” Ryn exclaimed. A look of genuine fright clung to his face. “How should I know? They just started shooting! They almost killed me, and you think I’m responsible?”

Kinfild released him, then turned away.

Jace stepped closer to Ryn. “It’s alright, it’s alright.” He bent down and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder—his father had done that for him the first time they had to put down a horse. “If you know what happened, Kinfild needs to know as well. It would help him a lot.” Jace forced his lips into a smile.

Ryn looked up. “I swear, I don’t know why the army was here. I swear it!”

“And I believe you,” Jace replied softly. It just sounded awkward. He was never trying that again.

“So I get the cold, mean-guy act from you, but he gets the nice guy?” Lessa grumbled.

Jace looked over his shoulder. He stood back up and crossed his arms. “You heard him. Do what you want with that information.”

Kinfild ran a hand through his beard. “If the Koedor-Terginian army was trying to kill Elder Stenol, then…we need to hurry. His life is in danger.”

“To…the Roteac place?” Jace asked. A big fancy planet? There’d be plenty of opportunities to gather Aes from dangerous and powerful opponents.

“Wait, wait!” Ryn held up a hand. “You can’t just walk into the Roteac Academy’s Autumn gala dressed like a couple of slum-rats. Even a Wielder would put on a suit.”

Jace looked down and held his arms out. He didn’t have a change of clothes.

“We aren’t exactly carrying party gowns around in our pockets,” Lessa commented.

“Th—thankfully, Stenol kept quite the collection,” Ryn said. Then, he pointed down into the canyon, at the hanging cottage. The rope bridge was gone, but the rest of the structure was still intact. “They’re in the Hanging House.”

“We’re running short on daylight,” Kinfild said. “If we’re going to plunder Stenol’s wardrobe, we need to be quick about it.”