Alnea sighed with a little disappointment, as he saw Rhaeghar gather the other Wanderers around him, preventing them from scattering around in the sandstorm. He had already expected them to regroup together at one point. After all, they were all Peak Stage Wanderers under the age of thirty, the best of the best False Wanderers in the Lotus clan. Still, he was a little surprised at how quickly they had regrouped.
Rhaeghar Whitebud… he was a formidable opponent. And an equally formidable leader, even if a little cold blooded. Unfortunately for the man, his plan was bound to fail. Just as the white robed man led his fellow clan members towards the place where he remembered last seeing Vestia at, Vestia herself was leading the Star Seekers away from the path of the Lotus clan’s Wanderers.
Ignoring the group of eight Wanderers advancing in the sandstorm, Alnea focussed on the four Wanderers who were closer to him. A Pinkbud, a Whitebud, a Yellowbud, and a Redbud. All shining in the glory of their Aspects, frantically shouting into the depths of the storm, searching for others of their clan, while maintaining a shield around their necks, and chests. They were so anxious, that the Redbud Wanderer had even shot a few offensive Arcanas blindly around himself, while desperately warning Alnea not to come closer to him.
Alnea had never done well with threats though. Not when the Lotus clan had threatened him with his future back when he was just a Seed, not when the Heterodox Wanderers had threatened him with Cecilia, and definitely not at the moment, when the red robed man did not even have anything to threaten him with, except for the name of his clan, and what consequences he might face in the future…
Alnea controlled his body to rush towards the yellow robed man. He did not dare to use his Spirit Power wantonly though, using just pure physical strength, even dropping his body closer to the ground to increase his speed and reach. It was not until the very last moment, when he was just two metres away from the red robed man, that he invoked his Aspects. Even then, he used it only to reinforce his attack, pushing the strength behind the dagger to thrice what he could use normally.
As for the blade itself, lacking in Spirit Power, he could only use the Oren stored inside the dagger in advance to activate two of its three other Glyph Arrays, just as he slipped the blade into the man’s stomach.
“Bastard!” the red robed man cried, shooting all the Aspects he had gathered in his right hand right towards Alnea. Or at least he tried to do so. The moment he was releasing his Aspects though, the blade stuck in his stomach, flashing in a golden light, increased the pull of the ground on his body, disrupting his aim. Tilting his head towards his left to dodge the blob of red and black light, Alnea pulled his dagger out of the man’s stomach, before quickly retreating, hiding in the black storm around the man.
“Filthy unfavoured,” the red robed man yelled, covering the wound on his stomach with his left hand. “How dare you—
Alnea interrupted the man by appearing next to him, and slashing his left leg near his thighs.
“Iona’s tits!” the man cursed, limping on his right leg. “Finally showing your true colours… I knew we should have just killed you…”
Alnea came out once again, only to retreat after slashing the man’s other leg.
“Bastard!” the man cursed once again, almost stumbling down to the ground. “I dare you to fight me like a proper Wanderer!”
Alne answered the dare by stabbing in the man’s lower back, before retreating once again.
“Coward!” the man cried, more in indignation and unwillingness than in hatred and resentment, as he finally fell to his knees. Probably because the man already knew what his ending was going to be. Maybe, for a moment, he had dreamt that his brothers, that the other Wanderers of his clan would come to save him. That dream had long faded away, leaving just some regrets, and an unwillingness to die so meaninglessly. The man’s Heart was broken. As was the barrier protecting his life.
“Is hiding all that you can do?”
…Alnea appeared next to the man once again. But this time, his steps were a little more hesitant than before. He had already given four blows to the man. He could not delay anymore. Not only because of his lack of Spirit Power, but also because there were people waiting for him to save them. He had made an Oath… He had made many Oaths. And it was time to fulfil them. No matter what happened, he could not, would not, stop moving forward.
Trying to calm the waves in his Heart, raging with no lesser intensity than the storm that was raging around him, Alnea stepped forward, and slipped his dagger, strong, and steady, shining in the light of their Glyph Arrays, into the man’s neck.
“You…”
The red robed man grabbed his hand to keep him from retreating immediately, before turning around, as if to say something. All that came out of his mouth though, was some incomprehensible gurgles, as the man choked on his own blood. Still, the man did not hesitate to stare into his eyes. To etch into his Spirit, into his very being, the despair that his deep blue eyes held. And to curse upon him a fate worse than even death…
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Alnea shook his hand free of the man, as he withdrew his dagger from the man’s neck, leaving behind a stream of blood that fell from the man’s neck, and down his robe, all the way to the ground, soaking the sand around the man’s knees into a deeper shade of black. A shade of blood and death, that was fresh enough to remind him of all the people he had killed, whether he had meant to or not. Especially their eyes…
Alnea took a deep breath to suppress his uneasiness before it could sever the connection between him and Yuri once again. At the same time, he reaffirmed his resolve. Although he did not like killing, he would not stop. Flicking his dagger to remove most of the blood flowing along its blade, he rushed towards his next target. The Yellowbud Wanderer.
From his experience, although Wanderers from the Yellowbud family did not tend to be as impulsive as Wanderers from the Redbud family, they were much easier to agitate than the Wanderers from the Whitebud and Pinkbud families. And an agitated enemy was always much easier to handle than a calm one.
“Rana!” the yellow robed man said, trying pierce through the wall of sand between him and his fellow clansmen. In vain. The wall was too thick. Not to mention that in his frantic search for his clansmen, the yellow robed Wanderer was walking further and further away from them.
“Will! Querin! Can you hear me?”
“…Stop shouting,” Alnea said, as he reached close enough for the yellow robed man to hear his voice. “No one can hear you.”
“You…”
The yellow robed man turned around, staring at Alnea with wide eyes for a fraction of a moment, before hurriedly swinging his fists, glowing with yellow and red lights, towards the latter’s face. Even with the aid of his Aspects though, the man was still not fast enough to escape Alnea’s eyes. Or rather, the man’s movements could not escape Vestia’s storm.
Still, even if he saw the man’s movements through Vestia’s help, everything else was up to himself. Like ducking down under the man’s fists, and moving in towards the man, before stabbing his dagger to the side of the man’s chest. He did not even use any Aspects to aid himself. Just his physical strength alone was enough. A physique comparable to Peak Stage False Wanderers…
Alnea had already experienced the benefits of a stronger body in his battle against Ryan Purplebird the day before. The crazy waves of Oren Beasts attacking them throughout the day had confirmed his guess even more. A better physique would not only give him a better foundation, and more options for creating tactics in battles, it could also help him in leapfrogging to challenge stronger enemies. Especially when he was all out of options…
The Blood Crystal Martial Styles were indeed very special. Maybe they truly contained a part of the Lost City’s legacy. The legacy could wait though. For the moment, Alnea had to focus on his enemies. Activating the Glyph Array on his dagger, he yanked it out of the yellow robed man’s chest, slicing him along his ribs, while using his left hand to push the man’s right elbow, forcing the man’s second punch away from his face, before retreating back into the thick wall surrounding the man.
“Everyone except you is dead.”
“Lies!” the yellow robed man yelled, covering the wound on his chest with his left hand, as a hint of blood trickled down the corner of his lips. “How can a filthy bastard like you—
Alnea swooped in once again, aiming his dagger towards the same position he had attacked earlier, forcing the yellow robed man into a defensive stance. Just as he was about to reach the yellow robed man though, he dropped down onto the ground, and rolled past the yellow robed man, slashing at the back of the man’s knee while he was at it.
“Do you still think I am lying?”
“Coward!” the yellow robed man yelled, buckling down on one knee. “Using such despicable means… You are a shame to all Wanderers!”
“…Less than you clan,” Alnea said, using the man’s moment of carelessness to stab him below his armpit. This time though, the yellow robed man was careful enough to spot the attack in advance, and rolled away to avoid the attack.
“A filthy unfavoured like you…” the yellow robed man mumbled, as he limped back on to his feet. The more he limped though, the more his face contorted in shame and anger. After a few moments, gazing into the storm raging around him, the man finally gritted his teeth, and took out a yellow token from his storage bag, before crushing it in his hands.
“Let me show you the true might of the ones chosen by the Gods!”
The moment that the man crushed the token, a bright yellow light emerged from his hands, with subtle fluctuations of the Mysteries of the Origin Sea manifesting around him.
“Let me show you the true might of the Lotus clan!”
The fluctuations of the Mysteries of the Origin Sea soon became substantial enough to gather together and coalesce into the shape of a lotus. A yellow lotus, with hints of lightning and fire flickering around the blades of its petals.
“Behold—
Disregarding how low his Spirit Power was running, Alnea invoked lighting into his veins, and rushed to the yellow robed man before the yellow lotus floating in front of the man’s chest could take a complete form, gathering his Aspects along the tip of his dagger, piercing it through the barrier protecting the man’s back as if he was Piercing through the Stars, and slipping it into the man’s heart, stopping from unleashing the wrath of the lotus.
Although the unstable lotus still burst apart in a flurry of fire and lightning, consuming the yellow robed man, already on the verge of death, at least he managed to stop the lotus from becoming even more powerful, and turning the sandstorm into a firestorm. The firestorm, of course, would not have been enough to break through the defences of his robe. But the robes of the rest of his teammates did not have the same defences as his robe did.
Had he not stopped the firestorm in time, allowing it to spread to the rest of the Star Seekers… How many of them would have survived?
No, Alnea said to himself, shaking his head. He would never let anything happen to the people in his team. Not only because of the Oath he had given, but also because of the trust they had placed in him. Because they were Star Seekers, and he was their Captain.