“…At least give me a heads up before charging!” Zain cursed, as he rushed behind Fran, while squeezing every last drop of his Spirit Power to boost his speed and strength. On the other side, after hearing Fran’s war cry, Aren, Ralph, and Norren also began rushing towards the Bluebud Wanderer, reaching the blue robed Wanderer’s side at almost the same time, with barely a fraction of a moment’s difference between their arrival.
“It looks like you will not understand the gap between us until I beat it into your heads,” the Bluebud Wanderer said, shaking his head. From how the shields around him had multiplied in number though, increasing from two to eight, constantly rotating around him, protecting him from all sides possible, it looked like the blue robed Wanderer had never expected them to give up, and was probably using his words to delay their action, while he completed his preparations.
“Remember, you brought this upon yourselves.”
“…Just shut up, and—
“Blue Lotus Transformation, Third Circle of the First Turn, Blue Lotus Foetus,” the Bluebud Wanderer said. “Lightning Paradise.”
It started with a crackle, spreading from the Bluebud Wanderer’s fingers to the ground under his feet, before jumping from the ground to the walls of the translucent bluish sphere right behind him. And though the lightning could not escape pass the walls, it did not stay confined in a place either. No, it spread around the translucent walls like ink spreads on water, dyeing the entire sphere in its bluish gold shade, with a hint of lightning flashing every now and then.
Yet, the lightning was not done transforming the sphere. After all, with all the lightning confined to the walls, how could the sphere be considered as a paradise for lightning? At best, it could only be a Lightning Cage. For it to become a lightning paradise, it needed something special. It needed a conductor. It needed a trigger. So, the Bluebud Wanderer raised his right hand in the air, before crushing the lotus shaped token in his fist, beckoning the lighting around him.
“Come,” he said. And so, they came. One at first, as if a little hesitant to answer his call, striking the ground next to his feet. After the first lightning bolt answered his call though, two more came to him, rushing to his call like children rushing to their father. Then came four more, disregarding their hesitation for the freedom they were being offered. And once they had a taste of freedom, they could not go back. Eight, sixteen, thirty two…
In the blink of an eye, all the lightning bolts within the sphere lost their hesitation, jumping out of the cage they had been restricted in, to the paradise waiting for them, tasting the freedom they had been promised. Except for a small area near the Bluebud Wanderer, there was not an inch of land they could not reach. And if there was something that hindered their movements, they just blasted their way through. It was, after all, their paradise. A paradise of lightning.
Unfortunately, wild as they were, lightnings were very short lived creatures. Although the dome, five metres above the ground, constantly kept giving birth to more of their kind, the lightning sphere also had its limits. The more lightning bolts it gave birth to, the less it looked like a lightning cage, retuning to its original shade of bluish purple, until finally, when the last lightning bolt struck the ground, the sphere turned illusory, before disintegrating into countless tiny shards, and fading away in the storm.
However, whether it was the illusory sphere, or the lightning bolts it gave birth to, they had all completed what they had been summoned for. Trapping the five pathetic Wanderers who had dared to defy his clan, and ravaging them all to an inch before their deaths.
Battered, with patches of blue and black bruises covering their entire bodies, all five of the stupid Wanderers who had dared to oppose him were lying on the ground, stiff, and paralysed. They were still alive, but they were all probably wishing that they were dead. After all, the pain of being bombarded with hundreds of Golden Lightning of Virtue, even if it was a lesser virtue, was not something that Wanderers in their exhausted state should have been able to bear.
“…Look at what you made me do,” the Bluebud Wanderer said, shaking his head with a feigned sigh, and pity, as he dismissed the shields hovering around him. “If only you could have been obedient, you would not have had to suffer so much.”
The Bluebud Wanderer paused for a moment, and glanced around himself, frowning at the storm still raging as strong as ever, before turning towards the pathetic Wanderers lying at his feet with a mocking smile.
“It looks like your companions have no intention of saving you.”
Shaking his head, the Bluebud Wanderer waved his hand, releasing five clusters of blue light, which soon morphed into ropes as they flew towards the five Wanderers lying on the ground, before tying them up, and dragging them back to his side.
“Worry not though. I will not let you die so easily. No, death will be too great a reward for you. I have much better plans for you.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
The Bluebud Wanderer paused, as he felt the wind around him getting noticeably slower, and tame, as the sandstorm itself turned from pitch black to a greyish shade, with much more visibility than before.
“Well, well, well… Would you look at this? The sandstorm begins to die out the moment I capture you… It looks like your companions do care for you. Unfortunately for them—
The five Star Seekers opened their eyes at the same time, before jumping on the Bluebud Wanderer in unison. It did not matter if their limbed were tied. Just their mouth itself was enough. Norren, Fran, Ralph, and Zain bit one of the Bluebud Wanderer’s limbs each, using the weight of their bodies to bring him down to the ground, and keep him pinned.
“What—
While the Bluebud Wanderer was still reeling with shock, staring at them with wide eyes, and had yet to come to his senses, Aren jumped on him, and bit through his neck, giving the man no chance to make a comeback. Just to be sure, he spat all the flesh and blood in his mouth, before biting down once again. And again. Even when the rope around him disappeared, he did not stop, and kept biting. Again. And again. And again. And again. And—
“It is enough, Aren,” Vestia said, placing her hand on Aren’s shoulder, forcefully pulling him away from the Bluebud Wanderer, staring the clear sky above their head with empty eyes. “He is dead.”
Aren stiffened as he came back to his senses. And along with the return of his senses, also came the understanding of what he had done. The taste of blood in his mouth… The pieces of flesh stuck in his teeth… Shivering, both in fright, and shock, he felt the world around him spin, and slip from under him, as darkness came over mind. But not before he saw the neck of the Bluebud Wanderer, or at least what was left of it. Strips of flesh, and muscles, barely sticking to a jagged bone connecting the man’s head to his body…
“Maybe sleep is better for him…”
“Not just for him,” Yuri said, glancing at the rest of the five-man squad, all passed out, while still biting on to the Bluebud Wanderer’s limbs. “It is a miracle that they held on for so long.”
“…That is the miracle of my potions, alright?”
“…It is the people who drank those potions that create the miracle…”
“That’s five Innate Breath potions! Five! Do you even know how much I paid for this plan?”
“And whose fault was it that we were forced to fall back to such a plan in the first place?”
“Tsk… You are speaking as if you had a better plan yourself.”
“…I am beginning to wonder if we did the right thing…”
“…What has happened, has already happened. There is no use thinking about it,” Vestia said, shaking her head. “Besides, it is not as if they had any other choice. Unless they chose to give up walking further on their paths, they had to do it on their own.”
“…I almost made Alnea fail to keep his promise.”
“…Is that what you are worried about?” Vestia said, before pointing at the men on the ground. “They are going to be pretty sad after they heard your words, you know?”
“…If they have time left after being proud of themselves.”
“…I can imagine that happening,” Vestia said, while chuckling to herself. “Especially Zain… Just the thought of him jumping around with his smug face all day is beginning to get on my nerves…”
“…He is just a little childish.”
“…This is why I like Alnea so much. He is much calmer in things that matters.”
“…Just when I thought I was beginning to like you…”
“Hey, you can still like me and be my rival, can’t you?”
“Stop dreaming.”
“But you and Cecilia get along so well.”
“…Cecilia was never my rival.”
“…Are you two talking about me behind my back?” Cecilia said, dragging her tired body back to their side, with Karl following right in tow, sporting a tired and gloomy look that asked everyone to leave him alone. Still, with the two taking down their enemies, of the Star Seekers, only Alnea was left dealing with the last Pinkbud Wanderer—
And just like that, the last Pinkbud Wanderer also fell down, just as the last vestiges of the sandstorm settled down, returning the scorching tranquillity of the Black Desert back to itself. For as far as one could see, there was only the calm desert, and the lotus platform in the distance, with the Whitebud Wanderer standing next to it, staring at them coldly, etching their faces into his Heart.
“…You are the only one left, Whitebud,” Alnea said, bending down to wipe his dagger on the pink robe of the man lying next to his feet, before standing up once again, doing his best to not show any weakness. “Are you going to fight, or are you going to run away?”
“…You are far stronger than the information about you suggests.”
“That is not my fault, is it?”
“…Even you team…”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
“…How much of your strength do you have left now?”
“Enough to deal with you.”
“…Do you think I will believe your bluff?”
“Stop speaking nonsense,” Alnea said, waving his dagger around. “I am too tired for your games. If you want to fight, then fight. If not, then get lost.”
“…Filthy unfavoured, you dare—
“Are you going to decide, or should I come over to help you?”
“…I will remember this disgrace,” the Whitebud Wanderer said, enunciating each of his words with hatred, carving the shame into his Heart. “And I will have my vengeance, even if it is the last thing I do in my life.”
“…If you come looking for me again, then it will surely be the last thing you do in your life.”