“For someone who likes peace, you sure are violent!” Dallion used his music skills in an attempt to weigh down his enemy, while simultaneously proceeding with two multi attacks.
Moonstone magic had allowed him to summon his aura sword to focus on spells and combat.
MINOR STRIKE
Dealt damage is increased by 10%
MINOR STRIKE
Dealt damage is increased by 10%
MINOR STRIKE
Dealt damage is increased by 10%
Red rectangles stacked up. Despite his speed, the archbishop was finding it difficult to fend off two weapons. Unfortunately for Dallion, he didn’t have to.
ABSOLUTE HEAL
SIMON’s health has increased by 100%
Green rectangles emerged with almost the same speed the red ones did. This didn’t seem like magic or skill, but a natural ability, making him effectively invulnerable.
Dallion had no intention of giving up, though. This wasn’t the first invulnerable being he had faced.
“Strength is needed to maintain peace,” the archbishop replied, his own voice countering Dallion’s music attacks. “A shield that cannot protect is no shield at all.”
Spark!
Dallion performed a dual spiral attack. The curves of destruction went forward, crashing into the archbishop before they had a chance to do any damage to the realm.
CRITICAL STRIKE
Dealt damage is increased by 10%
CRITICAL STRIKE
Dealt damage is increased by 10%
Two red rectangles emerged, bringing the otherworld’s health to a third. Mere seconds later, the dreaded green rectangle of healing also popped up, restoring it back to full.
“Harp!” Dallion threw the harpsisword forward, taking advantage of the momentary pause to target the Moon platinum staff. “Do your thing.”
Metal struck metal, casting illusions of fallibility and rust. Cracks formed along the surface of the brilliance piece of metal. One more attack and a fragment shattered, breaking off from the whole.
Got you! Dallion thought.
An opening had formed in the archbishop’s defenses. Dallion thrust his sword aura forward, casting multiple spells as he did so. In his mind, he was playing out the battle three moves ahead. Before he could strike, though, the archbishop burst into instances.
It was nothing like Dallion had seen before. He had been in battles before and so was used to seeing hundreds of instances at once. Never had he witnessed thousands clumped together so tightly that they formed a sphere of presences.
Red rectangles formed, then faded away, disappearing with the instances they shared a reality with.
Combining magic, attack, arts, and acrobatics, Dallion spun around, sending line attack after line attack. The devastation of the blows eliminated whole clusters of the archbishop’s instances, often over a hundred at a time, but they were immediately replaced by new ones.
“It takes a lot more strength to attack than to defend,” the archbishop said. “That’s why I make sure I’d win before doing so.”
Tomes and scrolls opened up in the distance, each pouring out dozens of quills that flew at Dallion like assassin daggers. In response, Dallion cast a magic music attack, scorching the projectiles with magic strands.
As things stood, the difference between the two didn’t seem overwhelming, despite the level gap. At any point, it seemed that Dallion was moments away from achieving victory, and that was the precise reason he feared he couldn’t win. The archbishop didn’t seem particularly adept at attacking. He could defeat a sub-hundred level awakened without an issue, but against someone like Dallion, he’d have trouble. Yet, when it came to defense, he was unparalleled. His entire way of fighting was based on that: ensure that he wouldn’t be killed off in a single strike, heal, and counterattack. In a best-case scenario Dallion would have until he was out of stamina; in the worst—his opponent would chip away at his health until there was none left.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Not willing to reach such an outcome, Dallion flew back several feet; the archbishop did the same.
“I trust I’ve made my point?” he asked, sliding his hand along the surface of the cracked staff. As he did, the cracks crumbled away, as if made of dirt. All chipped off and broken elements were instantly restored, returning the weapon to its previous flawless state.
“You foresaw this, didn’t you?”
“Naturally. Looking a few minutes into the future is as tiring as glancing into the far future.”
Dallion still had his doubts.
“If I join you, do we save the world?”
“For the next few decades, at least. Afterwards, I might have to intervene again.”
“Did you say your plan was infallible?”
“Even the Moons aren’t infallible,” the archbishop said in a rare instance of blasphemy. Since nothing followed, Dallion could only assume that to be the case. “The void has already started converging again. In a few decades, give or take, a new void puppet will establish itself in the same way the general had. At that time, the Star and his cultists would become an issue once more.”
With the end of the fight, the library realm quickly reassembled. Walls came together, forming rooms filled with books and scrolls. One would never have believed that a devastating fight had taken place there just minutes ago.
Dallion analyzed his options. He couldn’t say that he trusted the archbishop and his organization, but there was no doubt he trusted the alternative even less. There was no doubt that this would be an alliance of convenience. If he didn’t go for it, there was every danger that the Tamin would have a go at him.
“What’s the plan?” Dallion kept on holding his swords. “I don’t have a link to the palace.”
“I know.” The archbishop unsummoned his weapon. “But I do. Several, in fact. Getting in won’t be a problem.”
“And all the metalins, bladerers and rune golems? That’s not to mention the overseers, crimson furies, and his own imperial legions.”
“All powerful annoyances, I will admit, but easily rendered useless in the proper circumstances. Remember that the capital suffered a major blow. Regardless of any excuses, the hunt you were part of saw the death of many powerful nobles. It’ll work out quite well for Tamin in the long term, but right now he has to organize an event to remedy the situation. And there’s only one way he knows how.”
“A ceremony,” Dallion uttered.
The same had happened after the Academy’s near destruction. A lot of emphasis had been put on the new battle mages, the casting out of Archduke Dreud, and Alien’s promotion, while very little was mentioned of the losses the Academy—and by association the empire—had suffered.
It would be the same this time as well. Amid a lot of pomp, the emperor would shower Abla and the survivors in praise and point out the destruction of an ancient dragon’s nest. Meanwhile, not a word would be said about the total collapse of the Order of the Twelve Suns.
“He’s setting it up as we speak.” The archbishop adjusted his glasses. “A once in a lifetime event in which the emperor himself would appear before his subjects and reward the heroes that took down the dragons. Security will be tight, but primarily focused on the outside.”
Copyettes, Dallion thought. There were a few of them throughout the world in key locations, but no one knew how many exactly. By the sound of it, the archbishop had gradually amassed an army in the capital, keeping it hidden possibly for generations. For all Dallion knew, half of House Elazni could be composed of copyettes. He could try and find out using his kaleidervisto, but even that wasn’t certain to yield results.
“I’ll take care of the distraction,” the archbishop continued. “You only need to be ready to take on the emperor.”
“He’s claimed to be the strongest awakened alive,” Dallion noted. “He probably has a lot of useful artifacts as well.”
“I gave him most of them. I have a lot more and better. That’ll be the least of your concerns.”
“Then what is my concern?”
“Experience.” Reality shifted as Dallion was moved back to the main realm of the citadel. “You’ve done a bit of fighting, but you’ve never gone all out against a centuries-old awakened. That won’t be your standard fight. You’ll need to be efficient with the way you apply your strength, have ready solutions for most situations, and never be caught by surprise.”
“Are you saying you’ll train me?” Dallion couldn’t help but smirk.
“Of course not. The citadel will. That’s what I built it for.”
And just like that, an intense regimen of training began. Dallion didn’t appreciate being locked out from the real world and his realm, but as long as everything took place here, he could rest assured that no time passed outside.
Every stage of the process was divided into a set number of steps: theory, demonstration, recreation, and final challenge. In many ways, it resembled the awakening trials, only the answers were presented beforehand to save time.
With each task Dallion mastered, he was given a short rest and went on to something more difficult. Basic combat breezed through, leading him to the intricate practice of combat forging, living armor creation and usage, and movement efficiency. Aside from the artifact blueprints, which were too intricate for Dallion to come up with on his own, he had a fairly good grasp of everything else. It was also undeniable that he wasted a lot of actions. As many of the protectors used to repeat, he defeated them in two minutes when he should have done so in half.
Days came and went in the realm of the grand citadel. Every once in a while, the archbishop would appear to check on Dallion’s progress, though would never personally take part in a fight. It was also notable that no matter how often Dallion touched the topic of the seventh gate of the eight Moon, there was no answer. Even the archbishop’s Earthly origin remained a taboo subject, only earning the vague explanation that it was “somewhere near the sea.”
After what seemed like half a year, or possibly more, Dallion was finally told to return to the real world.
“You can stay a bit more if you like,” the archbishop said, drinking from a crystal glass of orange juice. “But I doubt you’ll learn anything useful.”
“All the world’s knowledge collected throughout the eras and you claim that I can’t find anything useful?”
“Useful for the current task. You can easily learn the secrets of dryad gardening, nymph irrigation, and all sorts of other tricks that would let you create the perfect garden. You might even be able to join our competition with Tamin on the matter… for as long as he’s alive.”
The comment made Dallion frown. If it was meant to be funny, it definitely missed the mark.
“Maybe I want to learn how to create world items,” he said.
“Yes, world items.” The archbishop gave him an annoying smile. “And you intend to spend weeks making one in the real world, instead of having me give you one that’s already made? Tamin isn’t an idiot, Dal. He’ll rush the ceremony as fast as he can. It’ll start in a few days’ time at the most. Why do you think I kept you training in the realms?”
To keep me cut off from everyone I knew? Dallion said to himself.
“Most of the pieces are in place. By tonight, they will all be. All that’s left after that is for you to enter Tamin’s capital at the right time and trigger it all.”
“And that’s how we save the world,” Dallion sighed.
REALM EXPULSION
Dallion suddenly found himself inside the citadel. The strong fragrance of plants and flowers quickly reminded him that he was back in the real world. Everything seemed a lot smaller and more lifeless, almost sterile. The only thing that remained unchanged was the archbishop standing a few steps in front of him.
“Yes, that’s how we save the world,” he said. “You won’t be able to enter the realm for the next twenty-four hours.”
“A little hard handed.” Dallion frowned.
“It’s for your own benefit. Once you’re done with the task, you can come back as many times as you wish. I’ll even let you bring your wife. Just shift the balance of power in our favor and you’ll be able to do anything.”
Dallion looked at the boy. He seemed so innocent in his Order robes and otherworldly shimmering, almost as if having a holy halo. Yet, behind that appearance lay a ruthless mass of experience and logic. Nothing he did was by accident. Every action, every word was made to lead to a specific outcome—a prophecy that he had selected among the many.
Without a word, Dallion turned around and left the building. Sensing his anger, the plants in the meadow outside moved to the side. Dallion didn’t mind. Right now, he needed to be alone for a while—away from the archbishop, his plants, and creations.
Soon, it became clear that this simple task wasn’t as simple as one might think. The entire island was covered with item guardians in the Order’s service. There was no way that anyone could approach the island by sea or air unnoticed. From the cliffs and beaches to the highest mountain peak, there was always something looking, listening. As a result, Dallion went to the only place he knew he’d get some privacy—the air itself.
“You really are an asshole,” he said beneath his breath, not in the least concerned whether the archbishop would hear. Both of them needed each other. That was why the boy tolerated and trained Dallion, and also why Dallion would go on with the assassination.
“He really is, isn’t he?” a croaky voice said.
Reflectively, Dallion turned around, summoning his harpsisword. He hadn’t sensed anything approaching, and still there was a crow flapping in the air, less than ten feet away.
“Void.” Dallion performed a spiral spark attack at the creature.
The moment the white thread came in contact with the crow, it burst like a balloon of ink, quickly evaporating into the air. Barely had it done so, than a second one fluttered down from the sky.
“Nice to see you too,” the creature said. “I must say, this is the last place I expected to see you.”