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Imperator's Path: A Sci-Fantasy Xianxia
Chapter Seventy-Three: My Governor

Chapter Seventy-Three: My Governor

I flashed through the fabric of time and space as I tried to get vantage points and advantages in our battle, but just as we had earlier teamed up against the Subgovernor, I was facing a superior level of coordination. I had my combat instinct and Alsig’s singular processing power versus eight others with their own Silicon Daimons that were linking together synergistically. They knew my every move sometimes before I had even thought of doing it. Their predictive algorithm’s quickness and accuracy was not unbeatable, I was faster and stronger than Marias Maxion now with my Silver body and the heightening of my divine inheritance and there were far fewer opponents, but these Sicarii were better equipped, trained and more able than my former Bronze peers.

They shot around in bolts of light-lightning combination teleportation, disappearing when I was about to cut off one of their heads and doggedly chasing me as I moved either by foot or by the tearing of space. Their hydra fang knives left wounds that were slow to heal, and their physical ability was shocking. Though the base of their genome before alteration was the Path of the Venator, the inclusion of Imperator and Campeador genetic sequences made them seven feet tall and so dense that I struggled to make them budge when I struck them, while they still retained a Golden Venator’s speed and dexterity.

I wondered why Theseas was using them against me, but not against Maxion. He had to have had them nearby the war effort, there was not enough time for him to send for them and have them arrive in a few days’ notice, but he had not utilized them at all for the fight he had been fated to die in without my intervention. Even one Sicarius might have been enough to tip the course of the battle though, with their hydra fangs and artificially granted teleportation they would have made an adequate substitution for an additional Silver.

It would not have been enough to work up a sweat if I had the same explosive partial divinity that I had had days ago when I killed the dragon man, but that had subsided into something that was more capable than what I had as a Bronze, but distinctly lesser than the searing glory that had consumed me. The flame enhancement was clearly bound to my emotional state, and I could not rely on that same rush every time I wanted it, not unless I wanted to lose someone I cared about every time I got in a tough position.

I still had tricks up my sleeve though. Without a helmet to cover my mouth, I exhaled dark scarlet fire over the Governor, flicked my golden sword to send a whip thin arc of yellow fire at Persias Fulvion before teleporting again. I danced around the expert swings of the Sicarii’s knives of poisoned fang, landing a glowing punch against one that shook the hybrid creature like a tree in a hurricane and then scored a sharp line across the helm of another Sicarius who only avoided me slicing his head in half by wrenching his neck as far back as possible.

I ripped through space again, stepping back into reality twenty feet in the air, looking down at them and holding myself at that height through deft application of my increased levitation. I breathed more red dragon’s breath at my enemies, eating away at their Adamantplate.

“It’s not burning them as much as it should.” Alsig commented.

It does when I hit the same section more than once, I thought back to her as I teleported again behind Persias. They have some kind of specialized coating that takes the brunt of the divine heat.

They jealously guarded the areas I had scorched clean of the invisible protective layer though, giving me momentary periods of having the upper hand in order to avoid letting me do some real damage.

A thread of unease ran through me as Alsig gave me continually updated odds of my victory and I took more and more cuts from Theseas and Persias’s divinely electrified Keenblades and the Red Haloed hybrids’ hydra fang knives. I was being worn down and even if my pride would allow it, I could not run without being followed just as fast by this pack of elite warriors. My teleportation was being depleted too while the Silvers could trade off using theirs and the creatures they brought with them seemed to have an unending supply. I did not have forever to maintain this back and forth.

I focused on the Sicarii even as I dueled both the Governor and Lord Fulvion at the same time. These things were dangerous, more mass producible than Silver Imperators without a conscience or true loyalty to hold them back. They were like robots, empty and emotionless, if someone with authority ordered them to do something they would do it without question. All they wanted to do was kill the targets they were assigned, no matter who they were or what they did. The Sicarii would bathe in the blood of infants just as easily as they would the most heinous of criminals if what I sensed from them was correct. I reasoned that the Governor must have some means of controlling them in case they went rogue or went beyond the bounds of their mission. I tried using telepathy to manipulate them, but their minds were like fortresses, imprinted with subconscious protections against psychic attempts to command them.

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I pondered the situation and noticed that as dead as most of their conscious mind was, the parts connected to their Daimons were the most active. It was almost like each AI was really in command and the altered Venators were just the meat vessels they piloted around. Then I thought of my newfound way to interface with electronics, and I pushed mentally against their Silicon Daimons in their heads. I found it to be a weak point. That was it! That was the solution!

Stand down! I ordered them, but they did not listen to me. As I twisted away from the Governor nearly spearing me through the heart, I explored the shape and structure of the artificial intelligences’ virtual structure. There was a place to enter a password, but I had no idea what it could be. Randomized characters a hundred numbers and letters long? A line of ancient poetry from the texts of the ancients? Nonsense and gibberish?

“I can try cracking the passcodes.” Alsig offered, but she was forced to stop when we realized we only got two attempts at figuring it out and she could not brute force the answer.

I took more and more wounds, and the pyre of Heracles’s divine energies were beginning to wear at me and my teleportation shut off. I was about to lose if I did not pull something off.

My mind raced, jumping through idea to idea. What could it be? What could it be?

“You’re running out of time, Adrias.” Alsig said in a panicked voice in my head.

I went with the one impulse I had, throwing my lot in with this being the correct password.

DIOKLETIAN. I entered in the blank spaces through my telepathic connection.

The Sicarii went still, and the Governor twisted his helm in shock.

Your new control code is ALL CHILDREN ARE BORN WITH WHITE IN THEIR EYES. I communicated to them the rebellious sentiment held by radical Servi in equalist movements.

I tried to order them to attack the Governor, but some hidden programming in their subconscious refused this order and nor would they link with Alsig. Whatever. I was close to winning now.

I was raking the two Silvers more and more and they were starting to back off to survey me, no doubt planning new attacks.

“Without the help of the hybrids and the linking of their Daimons’ processing and computing, your odds have gotten significantly better, Adrias. Just hold on a little longer.” She said.

Good. I sagged, tired and feeling the damage that the fire of the Divine Champion was doing to my body the longer I kept it lit. I would dim it if I could, but I needed it to finish this fight. It would all be over soon though-

Then Governor Claudion flashed in front of me and grabbed me by the bare neck. I moved to cut off his head when I felt the heat get sucked out of my body through his hand. He was doing exactly what Instructor Justinias had done to stop me from killing Andarias back in the Scholarium’s initiation ritual to decide who would be Spartiate, but Theseas’s was far, far stronger. As the energies dimmed, my golden sword of shining light winked out of my hand. Where I had once been hot enough to heat stone to red hot and melt metal with a touch, now ice was forming on my skin and his hand was tightening to crush my throat. If I could gather myself though, and maybe get a lucky strike in…

Then Persias Fulvion laid his hand on my back, siphoning more heat out further and I was confronted with the certain reality of my death.

“Goodbye, Adrias Lucion.” The Governor said, speaking for the first time in the fight. “I would have let you live, but at this point you’ve grown beyond the limits of what I’m willing to accept in a subordinate.”

He pulled back his Keenblade to decapitate me and I closed my eyes.

Get ready. Persias’s telepathic projection of his thoughts flew into my mind and my eyes snapped open.

Then Lord Fulvion pushed blazing heat into me through my back and all of Heracles’s power snapped back into its full glory, pushing me back to the heights of physical prowess. My golden sword reappeared, and I stabbed it through Theseas's faceplate.

I staggered and shut the flame enhancement off and looked to Persias who was taking his Adamantplate’s golden helm off and letting his long white hair fall.

“What was that?” I asked the man.

He was panting, gathering his breath.

“Told you I hated Theseas.” He smiled with a sly grin that reminded me of Quartias.

“I really thought it was over.” I said, weary. “Come on, let’s get back to my base.”

“One more thing.” Lord Fulvion said.

“Oh?” I said.

He knelt and presented his Keenblade sword.

“I would like to swear my blade to your service.” He said. “My Governor.”