Chapter 96: Minvaral The Liar Part 2
5 days prior to the confrontation at the fourth ring.
At the holy land desert border, a large line of infantry was guarding its perimeter. Contrary to the 1000 Minvaral had originally left, the stationed army had reached a size of 3000 men. These soldiers belonged to the 3rd army. To prevent any information leaks, a massive [anti-communication] spell had been cast upon them.
The leader of that army was a black-clad soldier. His armor was specially designed to fit his body, his helm and armor were so unique that although he wasn't a high officer, he was well known in Minvarals kingdom. “The dark one?” some whispered amongst themselves.
The dark one, the name attributed to that mysterious soldier; no one had ever seen his face but they knew he held some importance because his friendship with Minvaral wasn't small; the black-clads position in that operation further cemented that idea.
"Status," he spoke in a low hum that resonated with the soldier's bones. The soldier shook but if it was out of fear or awe, even he was uncertain. The black-armored man's large frame was like a firm and impenetrable wall, his calm and stoic demeanor was like a powerful current that suppressed anyone who dared come near. The black blade, which rested in his left sheath, emanated an aura of darkness, a darkness that seemed to swallow the souls of its victims; that blade had a natural [Anti-communication] spell cast upon it, its range was a 100-foot radius. Someone had once asked why a sword had such a peculiar spell, a spell normally reserved for assassin weapons, and his answer would chill that warrior, "So that no one will hear the screams of my victims." The ominous answer removed any impure or nasty thoughts others had. No matter what, they wouldn't dare question his judgment.
The 3rd army spread out across the perimeter, separating into groups of 100, a scout would relay information between these groups. The mages tirelessly worked on building a barrier, the defensive barrier wasn't as simple as blocking physical entry, it also had a secondary effect; the barrier could injure people attempting to teleport past the barrier. These kinds of powerful barriers were usually reserved for important cities or strategic locations, and even treasuries. The barrier itself wasn't much more costly than ordinary barriers, but its complex nature prevented its mass production. The barrier they were forming wasn't meant to kill, and it wouldn't necessarily maim trespassers, but it would certainly injure anyone foolish enough to teleport passed the barrier.
The black-armored general overseeing that operation was meticulous, going so far as to personally run all across the border to assure that the barrier was properly being built.
“27th, how's your progressive." The man's curt voice agitated the leader overlooking that group, but he calmed himself and didn't allow his tension itself to reveal itself.
The group pensively looked on as their leader spoke to the black-armored man. These men quietly sharpened their blades and charged their spells. “Minvaral is a careful man." The group leader said as the black-armored man was preparing to leave for the next site. The black-armored man stopped, his stance changed as he felt the atmosphere around him twisted from that of allies to that of enemies. Beneath his helm, a wide smile formed: The black general had been waiting a long time for that moment. The leader's voice was like a venomous snake bite, his sharp tone slowly strangling the black-clad with its power.
The black-armored man turned around; "we've been looking into you, looking into who you really are." The black-armored man picked up his blade, his movement's graceful like a swan, with just that gesture the leader's suffocating presence shattered, and its place was a mighty tiger. The tiger's overbearing presence instantly suppressed the 100 opposing soldiers as easily as the wind shook the leaves of a tree. The general's movements became increasingly strange, more fluid, sharper, deadlier. "He's never moved like that before." The leader thought as he readied his attack, the bead of sweat that glistened upon his brow exposed his anxiousness.
"Attack!!!!" A burst of mage bolts and assortments of attacks exploded from mage soldiers' wands and landed on the black-armored man. In the same moment, the fighters picked up their blades and began their onslaught of stabs, slashes, and thrusts.
"ICE PRISON!!!" A mage shouted as a string of white flew forward from his wand and hit the black-armored man's leg; a flower of ivy-like ice began to entangle the black-armored man. Using his metal razored elbow, he cut these ice ivy clean off; with his unoccupied hand, he smashed the leader's face, fracturing it in several places, and launching him far into the distance.
The leader had only barely survived the attack, a healing mage had, fortunately, cast a healing spell on him as he was flung away, otherwise, he would have died from his wounds. The leader returned to the battlefield, where his men were facing off against the black-armored soldier. It was fortunate that all his men were put into the same group, otherwise, they wouldn't have dared launch an attack. The leader turned to one of his scouts and sent him to retrieve the other infiltrator groups, they would take down the black-armored man. They had been sent as spies and had served their purpose well for several years, but Onias had sent the order that infiltrating the Oasis was of utmost importance. For what reason, he didn’t know, but what he did know was, he could break his cover. The other infiltrators had probably received similar instructions, and as long as they killed all the witnesses, there was still a possibility of reintegrating into the Inatian army.
As long as they could take down the black-armored man, the rest of the Inatian army would easily fall. However, the black-armored man was proving difficult to kill. His blade skills were monstrous and his iconic black blade oozed an aura which suppressed magic to a certain degree: its effect wasn't strong enough to stop any mage's spell casting, but it was enough to buy him seconds of precious time.
"FLAME!!!" another mage cast out his strongest attack. The black-armored man didn't bother to even look at his attacker, he sliced the man in front of him clean in half, and with the same blade he deflected the fireball; with his other hand, he smashed a fighter's skull, shattering it to pieces. The graceful swan-like dance was intermittently interrupted by moments of bloody brutality. The cold aura exuding from this man wasn't that of magical effect, it was simply that the black-armored man saw them as nothing but ants.
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However, that man had the right to think so, after only a few minutes, the infiltrators had been cut to nearly half their original number, while the black-armored man was seemingly nowhere near exhausted.
It was then that several more groups of infiltrators arrived on the scene, one of these groups had one of the strongest infiltrators. A lesser celestial warrior with a level above his ranking, level 453. That level wasn't the most impressive, but it was certainly above average. Although complete reconnaissance on the black-armored man's level was incomplete, the man was very secretive, his level was estimated to be between high monster and lesser celestial average.
The moment the lesser-celestial infiltrator entered that battle, a noticeable change occurred. The two men exchanged blow after, the shockwaves of which caused the desert sand to rise and shroud the entire battlefield in a sand dome. The flurry smacked weaker soldiers into submission and irritated stronger ones. Despite The black-armored man's continued counter-attacks and blocks, the mage spells were slowly becoming too difficult for him to block or avoid. Upon his armor appeared cracks and breaks, his body was covered in ice, burns, acid burns, void tears, and all sorts of other ailments that would kill ordinary fighters. The lesser-celestial fighter, however, wasn't faring better as his cuts and wounds were slowly becoming worse and worse. "Bleeding blade?" The celestial shouted in his mind. "HOW MANY ENCHANTMENTS DOES THAT BLADE HAVE!!!"
Under the mask, the celestial couldn't tell, but even so, he felt as if the black-clad man was mocking him, snickering between attacks. As if to prove his point, the black-clad turned his blade into a dozen or so colors, red for fire, blue for water, light blue for ice, light yellow for wind, purple for lighting, color after color appeared on his blade and using it, he controlled enemy elemental attacks, sometimes even using the power of an attacking mage as his own.
The black-clad caught a ball of red fire with his red blade and instantly absorbed its strength; the black-clad’s following attack burst with a sun-hot fire that burned the celestials arms. But the celestial wouldn't die a dog's death either, the celestial backed away and quickly began to relocate his excess mana. Some to his legs, some to his arms, and some to the barrier he kept around himself. The black-clad was too skilled a fighter for him, so the celestial opted for a battle of attrition. "He can't keep using magic to power that sword, it will drain him eventually."
The celestial was proven correct about his judgment, as the battle continued, the black-clad man was slowly being worn down, the battle lasted for a long time after but after nearly an hour of constant fighting. The black-clad man fell to a mage spear which penetrated his lungs and nearly pierced his heart, even so, the damage was certain death. The only people who could survive that kind of damage were Hero ranked beings.
After the battle was done, only 100 of nearly 1000 infiltrators survived; among them was the celestial, who they needed to deal with the Inatian army.
“He was stronger than we expected.” The celestial managed to whimper out as he fell onto the hot sand. His entire body was bloody and the feeling in his bones was similar to the pulsing after headache but it was his entire body feeling that nauseating pain. “poison…”
"That bloody bastard had one hell of a sword." He managed to leak out as he rested his eyes. The healing mages quickly got to him; they couldn't afford to lose him. they still needed to make the magic teleportation circle for Berdek. She was expecting them to accomplish that before the second full moon. That was only a few days away, they couldn't afford any delays.
In that moment of near-death calm, his mind flashed with memories of what he thought would be his final battle. In the midst of combat, he hadn't noticed it, but in his world of memories, he couldn't help but notice moments of hesitation in his enemy's attacks. it was as if the black-clad man was holding back but would that have been suicide. He shook those thoughts away when he awoke from his stupor but even so, his anxiousness wouldn't leave him. He was certain something was wrong but he didn’t know what. it was as if his entire fight with the black-clad was a joke, a farce, a lie.
The infiltrators quickly got to work, even picking up some more infiltrators they had in other groups that couldn’t easily leave their legions. The loyal Inatian soldiers fought back as best they could but all of them were being killed in groups of 100. Before they had realized, their entire army had already been annihilated.
…………..
Five days later, the day of the second full moon.
A teleportation circle only a few hours away from the Kingdom of monsters, in hero-ranked speed, began to glow and after a bright purple flash, Berdek emerged bloody and weak. She looked as if someone had dragged her through hell and back again. Her fingers had lost their tips, her left foot was gone, across her cheek were her exposed gums and teeth, half her face was gone, as if torn off by a raging bear.
In front of her was Minvaral in seemingly perfect condition. “What happened to you?” Berdek raised her defenses, flying several steps back, and quickly prepared her shield spells. "Calm yourself, it's me." the Minvaral look-alike said in a cold yet regal demeanor. Berdek thought for a moment, “why do you look like Minvaral?” Berdek was taking extreme caution after suffering from her teleportation.
“Miar’s daughter is the new god's overseer, in this form, I can easily deal with her."
“what if you break your cover.” Minvaral smiled seemingly content with Berdeks anxious expressions, he seemingly took joy from the way she moved her fractured fingers, struggling to form them into a fist. Berdek wasn't the most attractive woman in the world, but such gestures upon the most brutal women in the Onias country was so contrast that he couldn’t help but sadistically smile.
Berdek scrunched her nose and exposed her fangs, "That's certainly you, you sadistic bastard!" Berdek quickly stood up as she healed her wounds with a few healing spells. “what happened to the others?”
“I killed them.” Berdek rose a brow, “no witnesses, no one can know my current cover.” Berdek nodded as if understanding what he meant. The man in front of her was the serpent, a man who could change into someone else, infiltrate the highest echelons of foreign kingdoms. This man was the very same that had tricked Miar into slaughtering the drow, all for the purpose of ruining her reputation. Their mission that day was to further drag her reputation into the mud, by destroying the young gods monster kingdom with her army, but the Serpent had killed all of them. That would make things more difficult, but she knew a few basic shadow clone spells, the idiot monsters wouldn’t know the distinction between real and false.
Berdek walked closer to the Serpent, his sharp eyes burrowing into her as if he could see through all her secrets. His behavior had always made her hair stick up on end, but she never showed it on her face.
“do you know what others call me?” the serpent asked, tilting his head, and stared at her unblinking. Berdek became confused by the sudden question but almost on reflex she responded. “The serpent.”
A slow evil smile appeared on his face, “no.” the response caught Berdek off guard, inside her heart, she felt a terror she had never felt before, but before she could even mount a defense, the man in front of her dashed forward and punched straight through her chest, barely missing her heart.
“They call me, Minvaral The Liar.”