Razmund barely saw what went behind his action and mana, but it was clear as the sky above his face that Thar was making a joke out of him. He gritted his teeth for god knows why, he pushed his claymore that much harder, but all he did was move nothing.
Thar held his attack with 4 fingers stretched, like a palm before a child's hand who was trying to slap an adult.
And that thumb-up wasn't looking pleasing either, even though it was casual action without any sense of pride or agitation.
It was as if he told a simple rule, and he shouldn't be questioned why or to whom he spoke to. It was a simple acknowledgment that Thar was required to give, and he gave it with some worth.
Yet a worth that Razmund didn't appreciate.
“Don't fuck with me!” Razmund shouted and poured much more mana into his swirling storm of a claymore. He became unhinged, angry, and livid, uncaring about his limits but angry at that single finger. He at least wanted to get rid of the single hand. That should give him plenty of pride since it would be an Extreme side of defense.
He tried his best efficiency, but because he was lacking proper momentum and a firm spot, his One Sword pushing to the 4 fingers wasn't enough. Adding to that Thar and his unyielding power of an Extreme that was throughout his undead body, Razmund was out of the contest long before he realized it.
Thar knew it himself, and his eyes shuddered and his body winced forward in some odd irritation.
Seeing Razmund's agitated face and hearing his words was a reminder that he went a bit gentle on this damned human. Thar wasn't too happy to hear that. He already announced his acknowledgment, and he didn't like to be questioned in his own job.
He had no choice but to spank the bad child, who thought was much stronger than he thought. It went along with the Ego and Will, making Razmund a fine Blessed, which wasn't faulty, nor something he should criticize. It wasn't rare to find any egocentric individuals among them at all. Thar knew this, yet expected something else from such a Blessed, yet he found annoyance instead.
Holding off Razmund's momentum and power was like halting a child from punching him, so he raised his free hand up. A thump up still remained, and the lower fingers were forming a fist. He slammed into Razmund's head like a mountain, shaking the mana and halting everything to a stop.
It was explosive strength that destroyed the unrelenting mana surrounding Razmund's claymore, and even the air and sand shook around them. It was some sort of attack from Thar's physique or just physical power, and it was unworthy to call it special or unique. It was a simple strike to spank a child.
A Thumb Hammer name would be fitting, perhaps? Thar didn't seem to think that names were important. Perhaps if he changed his hand, the thumb would be a perfect piercing weapon.
Razmund was unable to endure this attack with his mana or body, nor did he see or feel it coming. Letting go of the claymore without his awareness, his mana cluttered out of his control and his own mana core creaked in shame. His body slammed deep into the sand as if a mountainous hammer truly hit him.
All it took was less than a second, and a single Thar's slam to his head.
He blinked afar for almost 3 seconds and drifted to complete stillness and darkness, which amounted to dozens of possibilities of dying. Though, he couldn't help it, or stop it because he didn't see the attack coming.
Even if he did, would he manage or do something against Thar's fist? Deflecting, countering, and even defending against an Extreme power were unlikely actions for his level, but for his Ego? He felt more confident than he should have and the thing was, his Master or King wouldn't mind seeing this. They would encourage hoping for the heavens, and not have power for that.
Defending against an Extreme was doubtful What If, but something that Razmund desired.
He pushed himself against it, yet it failed. Again...
Before he noticed what was even happening, he was once more without his weapon. Thar was holding the claymore and started playing with it with his free hand. The other was also free right now, but one hand was more than enough even for this large weapon even to his standards. Well, if someone would tell this claymore didn't fit him, they would be lying. With Thar's height, this claymore was like a regular sword in his hand.
“So light. So light. It's impudent to expect this sort of sword to be with you for much longer. It lacks spirit, I reckon. But then there is the fighting and your dancing, while some weird Sage's interest is up there in power. It definitely doesn't lack the punch, but it is weak and light, or less dense. Maybe you could reconsider your position and change the job? How about a dancer?” Thar commented, which lingered in the air until Razmund heard it when he regained his clarity.
Angered, his eyes quivered, blinked, and opened wide. He was more upset by hearing that than by his own defeat.
He accepted his lack of power, but the lack of going against his words wasn't making things better. Only worse.
Wriggling his body out of the sand, he forced his freedom up with a strained and pained mind. And for the first time, he gasped for breath and felt a tidal wave hit his core. He didn't even notice the blood dripping from his eyes, nose, mouth, or ears, nor did he notice his swollen forehead and damage around his body.
He was even shaking, kneeling before the mighty figure of Thar who was still on top of his horse.
Razmund forcefully shook his body and clutched his hands to stop the shaking. He checked his insides and figured his mana core was intact, but his mind wasn't. He did succeed in stopping his shock, but not a whole lot was left in his mind, mana, or body. It was a physical and mental blow. He won't get anywhere with these sorts of feelings.
There was no need for fear. There was no worth in that, yet before an Extreme, all was futile.
He failed to follow Sword Sage's principles.
The blood and shock were about only physical damage he noticed straight away, but before getting the hang of himself, he examined his body a bit better. He indeed went all out, and it wasn't pretty or nice. He felt rising heat in the core of his body, while every muscle and tendon in his hands, back, and legs were screaming in pain. His spine, or neck was another thing. Pain... What didn't hurt?
“Here, catch it. ” Thar tossed him the claymore back, uncaring to even hear his words back. It was no longer bathed in the mana of Razmund's core, appearing normal and ashen in the silvery sculpted symbols in the middle flat portion of the blade. It was straight and pretty well-crafted claymore with a wider blade at the start of the crossed handle, and creeping thinness towards a sharp point.
It was even a bit larger than the normal kind. At least by human standards, it was indeed larger than it should be.
Razmund caught it with one hand, feeling the time and his mind playing tricks on him. He hated this feeling of pain and helplessness before a proper powerhouse. It was secondary, however. Losing his weapon for the 2nd time... He hated it much more.
Thar was making a ridiculous joke out of his rules, or was he even aware of them? A followed of Path of Sword Sage without a sword was no one at all. A joke.
Razmund doubted Thar's intentions, so he shook his head and calmed his mind. He never wanted to lose his claymore again, yet he failed so he clutched it tightly when he got it back.
“Is that all about your mocking words, Undead King?” Razmund spoke, spitting some blood and spit out of his mouth. He didn't care about anything else, so he stood up and glanced up. He wasn't planning to fight again, even though he seemed that way from his posture and hold over his claymore.
There was no point in forcing oneself against the heavens, similar to how many won't go fishing Chaos Whales with a simple bow or dagger. Some still did try, but it was insensible and almost insane.
Was Razmund insane to test himself against Thar for the third time? He was, but his body was telling him otherwise, even though it took 15 seconds to get half of the damage away. He got his feelings back, because of his powerful vitality and sturdy physique, but seeing Thar's threatening aura from so close didn't give him any Will to start it for the 3rd time.
Thar was watching him from his lofty position, waiting or seeing this petty challenger's face or body in some answers. Extremes were complicated beings. Their understanding of others and the world was already well beyond the normal means. Razmund knew them. He saw more Extremes in his life than the amounts of his defeats. Neither of these facts was feeling better than the other, however.
Most often, Extremes won't consider the weaker opponents as interesting. That was normal unless they would feel threatened or there were other reasons behind it.
In this situation, Thar was required to act against a much weaker opponent, and for what?
“Do you remember your time and words from 5 years ago?” Thar asked as if figuring some answers or wonders from his gaze.
“Time?” Razmund didn't like where this went. “No.”
“No? Is that so? I know very well that a lot of beings wield this temple as quite a treasured place. Not in a good way, but... a farming spot, or a simple way to test themselves. It goes how it should. I know it, but I don't like how the little bastards in your place surround this temple and call it their own.”
“So what? Things are going as they should, as you said. And from what I know, Centralis has some deals with your...”
“Don't. It is nothing that should be spoken of...” Thar said unhappily. “I am speaking for old-time sake. I remember every challenger ever since I got here. Well, you were stupid back then and now you are here with questionable desires that move the desires of others. It isn't or perhaps it is too fitting? I wonder to what extent it goes, but I shan't question it. It is no wonder you don't remember a lot. Years go and years pass, but I would expect some decency from the person who rode the New Beginning twice.”
Razmund lightly chuckled, causing his core to shudder so he coughed at the end. “Twice or even more, it doesn't matter at all when years go and pass. Knowledge is nothing. Power is everything, and some decency is a bother anyway. That's how it goes everywhere, so what do you think of it when speaking like this? Is the fight over? Can I move on?”
“That the situation seems to be interesting.” Thar laughed and jumped from the horse, landing with a thud, and revealing some bones visible under what remained of his cloak. He was still overbearing and large, twice bigger and looming over Razmund like a tall sculpture. “That is all to that, you see, little Blessed figure. The 3rd time challengers have a spar against me. It is not for the 1st ones or 2nds where I shouldn't get involved. It is a flexible one, with worth and choice on me alone. Only those who will pass my marks will get the chance for the 3rd time in the Temple.” he stated calmly, overlooking Razmund who quivered and handed his claymore down.
He still glared up anyway, but the being before him was indeed among the highest and strongest he had ever faced. It was the aura surrounding Thar that was giving him the weird sharpness and power. It was destructive, and chaotic as if the world was turning sober around him on its own. It was almost unnaturally void of mana, but Razmund felt some traces hiding there, but they were rich, hidden behind the veils of something unique. It must be the bones... or.
He figured it must be something else. Awakened mana like his own but in a much higher state.
Then with the 2 eyes glaring at him with unnatural pressure, it was all that easy to know, that his Will to fight disappeared.
Razmund would never think he would lose in any staring contest, but he was finding Thar as an unsurpassable opponent. He wondered if he was also a Blessed like him, or if his case was something different. A Gifted? A person who rose to the top by blood, tears, and sweat of countless adventures in this humongous world alone? Was he... like the mysterious duck he had seen a week ago in the soul space of another duck?
He did dare to imagine that Thar could be many things, but he didn't dare to speak about those details.
“Then, Undead King, was my little sword able to get this choice? Ridiculous... By what remarks? By what Will? What about 4th time here?”
“By my choices, so shut it and accept it. Or do you want me to smack you twice? Rules are flexible... or do you think the little force and rules of this world will shackle me enough to not allow me to kill you?” Thar said, smiling and giving Razmund a tough choice of words. He didn't speak further, staring at Thar with a frowning and unsightly expression. “I figured silence is a great choice. For the 4th, you will have to defeat me, or destroy the partial interests behind my back.” Thar pointed behind him.
He spoke of many unnatural-looking figures, ranging from humans to beasts, and even a couple of intricate races. Some were partially undead, few weren't at all, but most were. They were among the many undead, hiding, or waiting but with more calmness.
Razmund took a breath of fresh air while calming down after figuring out that fact. He got it now. This place was indeed how it always was. A den to the Hell Haven, with Levandis at bey.
Of course, things wouldn't be simple. He knew it, but time went the way it did and it didn't move according to his hopes, and the voices of his superiors.
Things got a whole lot messy, but it went in a direction that wasn't terrible. His Will of the Battleworld talked about it. The Rules won't force things, but Chaos will ensure the fairness and the place of this Hunt to go on.
It wasn't as if it calmed him fully, however. He was still solving his head within the rules of this world while hoping to clutch and move around them, or through them.
Now, Razmund was sober of his usual stubbornness, which amounted to nothing but plain stupidity that he should've gotten rid of a long time ago.
“I see how it goes... and accept it. What about the rest of the Party?” He pointed towards the group of his companions, that were quite far out of his way, but Thar knew what he meant by this gesture.
“I am doubtful everyone will pass, but those 2-timers and that one 3rd-timer seems like a passable choice. However, I still have to reevaluate them. My skeletons will do so, while you can go inside since you got your mark. Things go wry or not while you should be doing what you want. There are rules for this, and nothing will change that.”
“I know that,” Razmund said and retracted his claymore back to his spatial pouch. “Do you know the being that went there?”
“Being? No.” Thar shook his head.
“Did you battle it?”
“Why would I do that? That isn't the rule for me to do.”
“But you saw it. What do you think of it?”
“That you are asking too many useless questions that shouldn't be asked. There are many strange beings everywhere. Do what you want, but don't overthink my words. If I would do things my way, things wouldn't be the way they were, are, and would be like. Bear that in mind. Some things are bigger than you would ever wish, or desire for.” Thar commented, jumping back to the horse and grabbing the reins.
Swinging the reins, he moved toward the rest of the Welcoming Party, while his army followed him behind. While he did that, he would do what he had to do. There was no point in helping Murai, or Lisa, as any helping hand can be detrimental to success, and in fact, what help could he even offer? He desired some helping hand instead.
Thar could tell the enmity of deep layers that went behind the scenes, and this man, Razmund, will be like a raging river that will swallow everything. That, or before he will try that, he won't have enough momentum and will crumble apart, unlike what Gods were scheming and hoping behind the scenes.
It wouldn't be the first Blessed of that caliber to do so, nor the last.
Sighting, and looking at the hilt of his claymore back in his pouch, Razmund finally noticed the damage inflicted on his body from an inside and outside perspective. He overdrew his mana quite a lot with his overbearing use of One Sword, and 1st Dance. He unleashed the highest caliber of his Sharpness Awakened mana, and his body was strained to the maximum.
The move of getting out of the sand was all it took before he realized, he was out of his breath. He still knelt, feeling defeated but alive, until his body mended itself so he could get up. Even now, his hands trembled, while the claymore was not within his hand, the hilt was all he needed to still feel the tension of the Undead Army and Thar.
It was impressive that he underwent this spar with so few injuries, considering he heard stories of Extremes dying in this place, or going in, and never being seen again.
Now, after experiencing a different kind of Welcoming Party than 5 years ago, he got a much-needed reality check.
He was weak and it hit him like a truck.
“Y-You have been with me since the beginning... I won't replace you.” He mumbled to his claymore so only he could hear that. A previous unsightly expression changed to one with humbleness and depth of some understanding. He almost blinked, but watched the hilt for a moment before he glanced at the temple a few dozen meters away. It was there in all of its glory, open and with a swirling dot of light at the pillar depicting an ongoing challenger.
Then Razmund thought of his own deficiency, so he meditated for a couple of minutes to stabilize himself. Afterward, he rose again and glanced behind him. The Undead Army was away, yet still radiated quite some pressure. He didn't like them, nor did he care about the monsters that walked past him a minute ago. Some of them were itching to take a bite out of him, but he didn't even glare at them.
He turned to the temple and without giving the rest of the group some words of advice, he went straight inside.
This temple will also be his chance, as well as a tool.
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A bit earlier, before Razmund's group appeared. Inside the temple, and well below it.
----------------------------------------
It was in the place that was close to the proper Gate 1.
Murai was jumping like a rabbit down the stairs, smacking his flat feet to the rough and uneven stone slabs, and almost fell down like a pebble. He didn't want to do that, so he cursed and complained about how this place was insensible to little ducks.
It was already getting on his nerves, and he could hear noticeable giggling above him.
Stopping himself, he turned and shouted above him. “What the fuck are you giggling about your dipshits? Do you think it's all that good to be floating around and be an utter pain in the ass? No? Scew your souls!”
“But. But. Murai has wings. Why won't Murai use them?” Lorry said, floating beside Lisa who had no need to care about some physicality or sense of being serious. Lorry had similar effects as Lisa's soul form albeit his appearance was quite physical. “Gliding should be possible through this narrow and not-so-small staircase,” He commented, while the giggle was mostly done by him, but not entirely.
Lisa didn't comment much on Murai's displeasure and rather viewed things in a more pragmatic manner. They were closing on the beginning Gate, and she was wondering how it will go. It was quite a serious topic and something she expected to shake the current events, She hoped for changes, and important times under this temple. Murai didn't think like she did.
After all, this temple and journey into it was her stake and idea. Her cause, which Murai accepted.
Should this opportunity be as advantageous enough as she hoped? Lisa knew this place more than she wished, and it held many secrets and also many wonders, or chances.
Feeling and remembering his case, the terms may or may not be that good. She recognized his art of messing things up, and the world wasn't making it easier. The Encounter had some clear rule limitations, and if time passed, a whole lot of things could become chaotic. How? Lisa knew how but didn't dare to imagine how much they could turn out to be worse than they already were.
Unfollowing the premise of any Encounter with lack of time will create a disadvantage that was akin to punishment and steep disadvantages. The prose of the next part can become much harder, or rewards could be reduced. It depended on the degree and situation within each individual Encounter and it depended on the Gods, and both sides of the Encounter. It can be harsh or mild.
Lisa knew quite a bit about it, but Murai already had trouble with the 1st Part of the Encounter, so what to make of it?
It was reasonable to assume that a lot of subjects about the Encounter weren't simple and he was against tough foes. So much so, that she doubted rules made any sense, and Will of the Battleworld was creating messed up reasons by someone's plot. Thus she decided on this temple to get some time for him, as this place can allow this sort of opportunity.
The timer of 12 days meant trouble since this temple could go on for many days without an end in sight. That was worrisome.
Working through the gates was one thing, and her idea of what was going on didn't take some things into account. Why? She had limited knowledge and she brainstormed about the ideas of getting out, options, and changes that would give murai better advantages. Almost all of that depended on Murai, and the surroundings, and not her. So she gave up and opted to wait.
There was a premise in the temple to leave on a whim, but it wasn't that simple, as the enemy can be everywhere. Outside, waiting in the Death Valley.
Lisa thought of the depths of this temple and her ideas and silently observed Murai's unwillingness to hop like a rabbit. It wasn't surprising, nor something she thought was funny. Her own views changed and it was to do it or die trying, or so she feared.
There were further opportunities and interesting things down below. They can change some outcomes, but they require more time while solving the Encounter may follow that behind. Or it could backfire and regrets would follow.
Murai didn't view this in harsh reality like Lisa, as he didn't think of it at all. What he didn't know wasn't a problem because of it. He was the kind of person to go with the flow, even though he hated how it happened to the bone.
“Ah... Anyway. Where do the stairs lead? It's already like the thousandth step already. How deep does this even go?” Murai asked, forcefully calming himself and steadying his steps.
“This? This was like the 300th step, Murai Hisagi.” Lisa commented.
“Really?”
He didn't believe it.
“Really really. Murai is just hopping like a rabbit, so descend doesn't feel that way, Beheheheh.” Lorry laughed again, having quite a good time for himself. Lisa only sighed and chuckled as well.
Lorry shot her a repulsive look, remembering what sort of being she was. “Lisa hasn't changed,” he said, openly scrutinizing how much of a bitch Lisa was.
“Well, I am who I am. Look, there is a sight at the end of the tunnel.” Lisa pointed down, and because she was higher in this 5-meter tall staircase that went to the depths of the earth, she was able to see the end in hundreds of more steps.
This passage was quite deep and completely straight. It was reaching dozens if not hundreds of meters below the surface, and that was just the entrance to the 1st Gate.
Who knew what was below that, or what even the deepest Gates were like? Even Lisa didn't know the last few, but she sure knew the ones above the 9th. Since she may have gone here twice, she defeated Thar in her 2nd forceful attempt, since she acquired power that wasn't ordinary and the challenging Levandis Hell Haven was up to her interest.
It wasn't a rule to defeat Thar, but it was a unique spar, which this temple was all about. It was a hidden requirement for something hidden, and secret. There were a lot of special prerequisites and hidden paths. A lot of variables may occur and give some flavor to the Challengers, but few talked about it.
One had to figure out the path independently, which made this place unique.
In this sense, this wasn't too far from how the dungeons worked, but it had different kinds of rules and most importantly, the Ruler.
This was no place that was under the Sky, nor it was etched with the Will of the Battleworld like most dungeons were.
Murai wasn't willing to guess it, but he understood the concept of what he was about to go through.
The being that changed this temple was most likely quite a savage demonic god, and this concept of the 3-year challenges was most likely something to please her power and chaos. It should be what Demons and Devils were about, while it shouldn't be that much different from what went within usual chaotic places.
Most likely than not, not many beings were challenging this sort of place, since it was too dangerous and getting inside was tough. Add to that the Welcoming Party and it can get nasty. Lisa knew it and Murai recognized that as well because he underwent and saw the Udnead Army and Thar.
It wasn't under the command of the Will of the Battleworld, but only a speck of situational awareness was put forth into this place by the God of Battle and certain rules he had with Levandis.
It was at least how Murai interpreted it from all this talking with Lisa, Thar, and Lorry. Previous Will of the Battleworld also gave him some information.
That meant that Lordis was more or less running the Battleworld as a Ruler and wasn't as strong to rule over the entire world. That was good news. This temple was outside of his rules because of the status quo and Chaos between Gods of the Sky, and Gods of the Depths. He and Levandis were similar in strength but they were both of drastically different factions.
There were other forces beside him and it was true that all Gods were worrisome fellows. But as for their intentions or whatever their desire and status were, Murai had a hunch over them. Their loftiness and desire for power were never changing, while it wasn't about them alone.
Lisa more or less already confirmed some of those ideas. Even a former member of a Battalion under some God from the Depths should know a lot of things that went behind the scenes. Though, Lisa wasn't talking about the majority of the details, since the presence and future mattered more than some past.
“Huh....” Murai sighed and glanced down the stairs. It was a bit dark here, but with Lisa and his Nigth Vision, he had no issues with anything. “It is there? Nah. I shouldn't worry about some closing problems. Let's deal with what this place can offer. Levandis may be a devilish God, but it is unreasonable to assume this place serves no purpose for her or others. It is a Challenge of a God, in some sense. A sensible way to describe some hidden training grounds, isn't it?” He asked and resumed his hopping down to seek the end of the stairs.
Lisa followed as well and talked to him. “You aren't wrong, but think of yourself first and foremost. This isn't something nice walk in a park. Everything will want your little life because of the rules of this temple.”
“So like the Somalis Dungeon, I took for... myself?”
“Yes.”
They were getting close, and soon enough, the three beings whose appearance and origin were extraordinary, reached the entrance to the 1st Gate. It was a simple room at the end of the stairs. Nothing was there, however. No swirling portal in space magic, nor a door or gate to the official challenge.
“Alright, Murai. This right here is a room before the Gate of Suffering, but the room is Gate 1 in simple terms.” Lorry proclaimed, floating forward into the empty and large room. Swirling flames of the torches were at the corners, letting some light to this empty place.
What a nice name, isn't it? Murai thought.
“Murai think so? That pleases Lorry very much. It's all idea of our devilish and cunning Lady.” Lorry stated, smiling and giggling afterward.
“Nevermind... I take it back. How do I go inside this gate? Is there a key? Door? Gate?”
“Murai can just walk forth. Simple as that.”
Sighting, Murai turned his head towards Lisa, hoping to perceive some sort of words from her face. She was quite indifferent during all of this time, which was a bit suspicious, but it was true that she was no longer a thief who was stealing his pie.
But that didn't mean she wasn't suspicious about something else. Murai wasn't sure what she was planning in her head, yet he was sure something went there from her constant shifts of silence and thoughts.
Why did she even think that the visit to this place was something he should do? This talk about the Encounter and how to force things around it was her idea. He sort of accepted it and went with what she told him because he had very few choices about the Hunt for his little life.
Murai was sensitive to the souls and Lisa had this sheer indifference as if the wide ocean was motionless. She appeared like that ever since she got to know the precise date of her death and the current age of time.
What if... What if she was lying about something?
Murai didn't even dare to give rise to this suspicion since he knew that Lisa was sensitive towards him in every way.