The Luna Wrath dipped lower and lower as it crossed the plaza. By the end, it was barely a few meters above the ground. Some of the Starrealm soldiers fired their rifles at it, but the blasts only scored the underside of the hull.
“Hold on tight,” Jace said. He pressed his feet against the deck and returned both hands to the control yoke. His teeth jostled together when the Wrath passed beneath the shadow of the palace’s front archway.
They crashed down with a thud, and the entire ship shook and shuddered. Jace’s teeth chattered and the crash harness bit deeping into his shoulder. The starship scraped along the polished floors of the vestibule, screeching and kicking up a wave of sparks.
Finally, the Wrath groaned to a halt at the foot of a statue. For a second, Jace didn’t dare to move, lest the hull fall apart around him.
But if they were to capitalize on the surprise, they would need to act quickly. He threw off his crash harness and drew his Whistling Blade. The boarding ramp descended automatically with a hiss of steam.
Lessa followed right behind him, and Kinfild approached from the opposite direction—from the engine room. Once they had all gathered behind him, Jace took a step down the boarding ramp, but tucked his head back seconds later when a bolt of plasmafire sizzled past. He glanced back at Kinfild and said, “I don’t think the Wrath is going to fly again for a long while, even if we can get back to it.”
“Nor do I,” Kinfild returned with a grimace. “There may be one I can borrow from the thegn, yet.”
Jace leaned outside the cargo hold. Palace guards in yellow plastic-y armour and yellowcoats fired over rubble and hastily-placed sandbags. They guarded the hallways intersecting the vestibule.
“Which way to the palace hangar?” Jace asked.
Kinfild pointed to the hallway entrance nearest to the Wrath. “Get over there. Once we get into the palace, we need to head south to the cliffside—if there’s a hangar, it’ll be that way.” He held his other hand out and mustered his fortification technique. A swirl of sparks rushed around his arm in an orange, dragon-like pattern.
Jace took a sharp breath, began his combat-focussed cycling pattern, then sprinted out into the open. A group of kobolds advanced on them with spears and crude blades in hand, and Jace swung at them as he ran. His sword flashed, and he cut through a pair. Kinfild struck one with his staff, and Lessa snatched up a rifle from a fallen guard—she shot the last kobold three times before it fell.
They dove behind a set of sandbags along the wall, just in front of a hallway entrance. “Where to now?” Jace asked, nudging a fallen palace guard with his foot. “These guys haven’t had the best luck defending this hall.” Bodies were strewn down the hallway—the kobolds had made it further into the palace.
“I’ve only got three shots left,” Lessa said. She traded her rifle with a fallen palace guard’s rifle. It had a whirring bayonet on its tip. When she pulled the bolt back, she revealed a magazine full of plasma-Aes shells. “Good. There’s more in here.”
Kinfild peeled a shoulder pauldron off a guard. It had an angular tree insignia printed on it, and a kobold had bitten into it, leaving black char and shadow-Aes remains. “We keep moving.”
They sprinted down the hall. For a building that was so well-decorated on the outside, the inside of the wide hallways was bland and uniform. Pilasters ran along the wall, but there was no further decoration.
As they descended down a set of stairs, they spotted another set of dead palace guards in front of a sealed doorway. Two Koedor-Terginian soldiers kept watch over their bodies. They raised their rifles, but before they could fire, Jace impaled one and Lessa shot the other. She asked, “Is this the hangar?”
“Hopefully.” Jace paused as he pulled the switch beside the door. The two metal slabs began to slide apart. It was a short entryway, and not exactly befitting for a hangar. “Which is good for us.”
Kinfild said, “If the thegn has maintained his personal guard squadron, there should be a few starfighters, and maybe even a corvette. It’ll give us some firepower—enough to launch a strike on the queen-core, at least.”
Once the doors had parted enough, Jace slipped through. Immediately, he skidded to a halt on a metal catwalk. They had found a control room of sorts. The catwalk ran along the edge of the room a storey above the main floor.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Far below, on the main floor, Koedor-Terginian soldiers and officers scurried about. There didn’t appear to have been much of a fight when they had taken the room; there were only a few scorch marks burned into the far wall and a dead palace guards slumped against the control panels.
Jace inhaled slowly. Near the far wall, though, was a figure that he recognized. White robe, golden ornaments, gray skin. It was Elder Stenol—if not for the garb, then because of the tag above his head: [Level 35 Aes Cultivator – Soul-Circle Opening – Ninth Stage].
At least Stenol hadn’t advanced at all since Jace had seen him last.
Jace looked back at the others and put his finger over his mouth. “It’s Stenol,” he whispered. “Quiet—”
“Progress report, Sergeant?” Stenol’s voice boomed throughout the otherwise quiet room.
Kinfild held up a finger, then whispered, “He’ll feel my presence soon enough.”
An silver-armoured officer with a holographic plume said, “Our troops breached the throne room. We have captured the thegn, and he will be down in the hangar with the others. If we’re leaving none alive, I advise an immediate execution.”
Jace glanced back at the others. He whispered, “Either we deal with Stenol now, or when he’s with the rest of the troops in the hangar. He won’t let us take off with those starships. We’ll have to face him, no matter what.”
“Jace, he’s still much more powerful than you,” Lessa hissed, and Kinfild nodded in agreement. “If he veils himself, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to read his abilities or any of his attributes. As it is, I’ll probably need direct contact with him to tell you about any of his attributes.”
Jace lifted his Whistling Blade, then tightened his grip. “I’ll keep Stenol busy while you deal with the others. But I can’t defeat him alone.”
Kinfild took a sharp breath. “Wait—”
“There’s no time,” Jace hissed. “You said it yourself, he’ll sense us.” He swung over the catwalk’s railing, then plummeted to the floor below and landed in a crouch. All eyes converged on him. The soldiers raised their rifles.
“Ah…the worldjumper,” Stenol droned. “I somewhat expected you to turn up. I’ll make this quick: either you join us, or we destroy you.” He pulled his hood back, revealing white hair in a ponytail. Then, he gingerly unbuckled his cloak’s clasp. It fell off his shoulders like water rolling off a rock. He pointed his staff at Jace and said, “Arrest him if you can. If not, kill him.”
The soldiers kept their rifles raised, and only one approached while the others covered him. Before the soldier reached Jace, a bar of orange fire snaked down from the catwalk and ripped the soldier apart.
Lessa and Kinfild jumped down. Lessa impaled a soldier with her rifle’s bayonet. Kinfild landed on the other side of Jace, and he swept his staff outwards, swatting another pair of soldiers with a crack.
Jace pointed his Whistling Blade at Stenol. “Surrender,” Jace said. “Admit your crimes, admit this is a ruse, and stop this.”
“I have my orders,” Stenol said, locking eyes with Jace. “The Great Galactic War must begin!” Without another word, Stenol sprinted forwards. He swung his staff at Jace. The cracks in the wood glowed bright red, and it trailed serpent-like apparitions. Jace barely deflected the attack. The impact sent shivers down his arms and rattled his spine. He staggered back. The Whistling Blade warbled through the air, singing an incomplete melody.
Stenol was fast, and his Potency must have been high if he could overwhelm Jace’s Resistance.
Jace pushed Stenol’s staff aside with his forearm. He’d have to deflect instead of block. Stenol unleashed a pattern of quick staff-blows, keeping Jace on the defensive. Each strike made Jace’s arms tingle. Jace tried using a hyperdash to get behind Stenol and attack, but the Elder spun immediately and deflected Jace’s stab.
Jace stumbled. Stenol raised his staff. The air around it rippled, and Stenol’s muscles tensed. He swung the length of gilded wood with both hands. Jace scrambled backwards just in time. The staff smashed into the metal floor and bent the sheet. Stenol unleashed a second attack, and Jace raised his sword just in time.
The two weapons locked together. Red fire-Aes met with the pure white heat of Jace’s sword, sparking and popping. Jace pushed, but Stenol was stronger—much stronger.
Jace’s boots slid. He couldn’t back out of the bind without exposing himself, but he couldn’t fight like this any longer. White light accumulated at the edge of the Whistling Blade, and the air around the two weapons’ contact point rippled. Sparks seared Jace’s hands, and his muscles protested.
An explosion of light burst out from the bind point. Stenol stumbled, and the blast flung Jace away. He crashed through a glass control screen in the middle of the room. His hands stung, and a slow-onset of pain followed—burns and crushed glass. He glanced around. Lessa and Kinfild were cleaning up the soldiers. He couldn’t count on any help yet.
He clambered to his feet and looked down. His hands…were empty. The Whistling Blade had slipped out of his grasp, replaced only by shards of glass. They were embedded in his skin, slicing deeper and deeper whenever he moved. Where…where was—
Arbiter was in Stenol’s hand. The elder carried his staff and Jace’s sword. He lunged. Barely fast enough time to protect his face, Jace raised his forearms, hoping that his vambraces would help him. He shouted with pain as the blade began to slice through the metal, only barely hindered. The fluids in his blood boiled. The blade screamed like a kettle.
Jace tightened his fists. The shards of glass sliced into his palms. He grimaced, but tightened his fists even more—he imagined the glass shards shooting outwards.
He activated the Wanderer’s Banishment, then thrust his arms outwards.
The shards of glass shot out of his hands.