Striking Dusk Hornet could feel the disbelief, frustration, disappointment and anger wash through his fellow disciples up on the sect’s wall as they witnessed the defeat of their sect leader in great detail thanks to the farsight crystals which were currently projecting Morning’s slumped form.
But while most of the gathered bronze-rankers stood stunned or started murmuring among themselves, Hornet steeled his spirit and nodded to a few of his fellow disciples scattered among the lamenting group. Most started preparing to enact their plan to reclaim the sect’s honor from these - no doubt cheating - interlopers. And as for Hornet, he had taken it upon himself to rally those weaker in heart and spirit.
“Fellow disciples!” he called, projecting his aura to catch their attention. Most did pause to look at him, so Hornet continued. He had always aimed to claim glory and decisiveness, and should their plan succeed to at least some degree, Hornet hoped that he might even catch the eye of one of the elders for personal tutelage. “I know not what treachery these outcasts just enacted to bring low our glorious sect, but I - Striking Dusk Hornet - will not stand for it. They need to be punished. The sect will need to strike back against these traitors to our way of life.”
His proclamations caused a stir among the gathered disciples, a bit of hope and agreement felt among the confusion and trepidation still dominating the emotions of the crowd.
“But they’re silvers,” someone interjected. “What could we even do?”
“That they are,” Hornet agreed, trying to keep the stoic look of defiance as clear on his face as possible. “And while we are many, a direct confrontation would still be folly. Dying for the glory of the sect is a worthy death, but I and some of our fellow disciples, knowing the treachery of the sectless outcasts, have already made other preparations. One that will show our unity of purpose while allowing us to to strike at our enemies in unison.”
With perfect timing, one of Hornet’s fellow disciples took the opportunity to activate a nearby set of crystals, and magical formations started appearing in the air above their section of the wall. The array revealing itself caused another stir, one of realization as the gathered disciples started piecing together what Hornet and the others had planned. Because this was something each of them - bronze-rankers one and all - knew.
“Our response will be as one,” Hornet continued, letting his proud smile grow. “and carried out through the sect itself. Come. Join your mana to ours. Let us show these intruders the might of Luminous Cloud!”
Being taught to man and operate the magical emplacements which was part of the sect’s defensive arrays was something every bronze-ranker knew. The mana pools of iron-ranked initiates was too small for any meaningful contribution, but those who had climbed further on their path towards the heavens were expected to help defend the sect during monster surges or potential attacks from rivals during times of conflict.
While they normally couldn’t access these defenses, one of Hornet’s fellow disciples had studied more closely under the array masters of the sect, knowing enough of the magical infrastructure to activate part of them. And to punish but a few enemies of the sect, Hornet felt confident that a part would be enough.
To show his own dedication, Hornet stepped up and touched the magical diagrams forming in the air, the lines glow increasing as he took control over the emplacement and started channeling his mana.
“For Luminous Cloud!”
The call came but a moment later as another one of Hornet’s fellow disciples stepped up and laid her hands on another part of the formations, providing another flow of mana.
“For the sect!
“For Luminous Cloud!”
“For victory!”
A nearby glowing indicator started showing their steady progress as more and more of the disciples joined their spirits to further charge the aggregation of mana, and Hornet smiled in triumph. At this rate, charging the shot would take maybe ten more seconds. The air around them started thrumming with familiar power as the glow of the potent emplacement grew ever steadier, the feedback from the array causing Hornet’s arms to tingle and fall numb.
“Soon! Retribution! We-” Hornet began calling as the charge was nearing its crescendo, trying to muster his fellows for a final push. But his words were cut off as another jolt of power unexpectedly shot through his arms, much more potent.
“Wha-”
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“Is this truly how low Luminous Cloud has thrown their honor?” Kite called to the sect procession, even though his gaze was fixed on the building charge of magic on the compound’s walls as their magical defenses had come alive mere seconds before.
None answered him, busy trying to get out of the way while Kite and his fellow companions were steadily backing off as well. The only one seeming unbothered was Orichalcum Fist, still standing atop his boulder and observing the proceedings. Kite did note quite a lot of confusion from the auras of the sect procession, but he wasn’t surprised that the bronze-rankers making up the majority of the procession, whose auras he could easily read, hadn’t been clued into any potential plan of betrayal. The silver-ranked elders that still remained on their feet revealed nothing to him.
“The terrain is rather unfavorable,” Little Crow noted from beside Kite, gesturing to the open, broken remnants of land with his parasol. “We can attempt to run, but I would think that some kind of defense against whatever is charging up over there will still be needed.”
“I’ll prepare what I can,” Kite agreed. Even if he felt a bit spent, he still had his Gate of Nihility available. “If I use everything I have I have together with any other means we can muster, we shou-”
His words were interrupted by a flash of light, followed momentarily by a shockwave of rippling mana which caused a wall of ash and soil to wash over the group representing the Autumn Wanderer’s guild. Kite hadn’t even had the time to raise his barriers, but given that the slight burst of force, ash-covered armor and a lingering tingling sensation was the extent of the ‘damage’ caused by whatever had been unleashed from the wall, he thought it safe to assume that things had not been as dire as he had feared. Or rather, that things had not gone according to the sect’s plans.
Little Crow ‘tssked’ as his parasol opened, and a mighty swing of the accessory soon cleared the dust and ash from the air in a wide swathe before them. This revealed the portion of the walls where the defenses had been charging up just seconds before, but where mighty wooden walls had stood pristine and proud, chaos now reigned. More of the defensive arrays had lit up, but from the way things crackled and sparked, even Kite knew that something had apparently gone quite wrong. Even worse for the sect, there was an ever growing hole in the array where its lines were crumbling away, like a candle touched to the middle of a paper burning a hole which slowly but surely ate its way outwards.
Stunned, charred and otherwise incapacitated disciples still crowded the wall, their reactions varying between trying to drag injured comrades away to desperately - and futilely - trying to contain or hinder the growing damage to the array.
“Well…” Dragonfly breathed from Kite’s side, the burning glow of her armor fading from her earlier preparations. “That sure took a turn.”
“That it did,” Kite agreed, before once more turning to the equally frozen sect procession and calling: “Luminous Cloud! It would seem that our little… discussions… are yet to be concluded. As your cowardly attempt at betraying our agreement failed, the Autumn Wanderer’s guild will deign to at least negotiate terms of reparations.”
Kite didn’t even try to suppress his smile as the two silvers who were still in any kind of fighting shape among the procession looked like mice caught in the grain barrel.
“What was it that foreign adventurer used to say? Opportunity into fortune,” Kite mused silently, before straightening. It was time to get some more concessions from their dear adversaries.
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River leapt, easily clearing the invisible hole in the defensive array even with her additional burden slung over one shoulder, wrapped in her chains which occasionally sparked with the stamina-draining - and very much painful - reddish-purple lightning.
“And then Kite just seemed to annoy her so much that she just quit the sustained spells - that ‘wrath from above’ kind of thing she did - and tried other ones. But Kite being Kite, he just went ‘whoosh’ and ‘haha, I can see everything, anywhere’ and ‘stuck up sectie, you’re no match for my earnest emotions and overly polite commentary’ and- oh, wait, the scary girl is back~!”
River’s sharp senses had heard the squeaking voice of the rat-woman even before jumping, and rolled her eyes at the commentary. As one of Wander’s bodies had been with River during her investigation of the sect, the shapeshifter could have given her warning well before their return.
“I take it that the annoying one succeeded then?” she asked, spending neither time nor effort on pleasantries as she landed in front of the waiting pair, the cloth-wrapped man seated against the wall with threads still attached to the formation while the rat was standing on its hind legs in his lap, apparently in the middle of acting out her little retelling of what was no doubt one of the fought duels. The rat with River had at least managed to keep quiet as they snuck about, and as such, she knew little of how things had transpired outside.
“It would seem that Kite and the others did indeed succeed,” Braid acknowledged, rising as Wander’s rat-body scuttled up to perch at his shoulder, playfully waving to its counterpart on River’s own. “And while Wander already told me of your success, it is always a relief when extraction goes smoothly. Let me just- hmm… Wait.”
“What?” River asked curtly, senses immediately questing out for potential danger.
“Oh? Ambitious. And rather dishonorable. A lot of self-deception probably went into convincing themselves that this was the right path,” Braid noted, the forlorn tone in his voice hinting that he was speaking to himself. His threads, still attached to the defensive formations, started lighting up in rapid-fire sequences, with the array-master humming and mumbling to himself all the while.
“What?” River repeated, but a few more seconds passed before Braid turned to her, his threads disappearing with a curt hand gesture.
“A few inside decided to take matters into their own hands. And as they were playing with things a bit beyond their expertise, I decided to take it out of theirs in turn.”
“Explain-”
River’s words were cut off by a loud, rippling detonation off in the distance along the wall, lighting up the defensive arrays for several hundred meters as they started breaking apart. From her deity’s pleased humming in her mind, River suspected that whatever had gone off had indeed spread much agony among everyone involved.
“Oh, maybe it was those disciples we overheard our little priestess here go around riling up~?” Wander mused.
“Sounds right. Excellent deduction, Wander~,” the other rat commented, clapping its little forepaws in applause.
“Why thank you, Wander. I do agree~.”
“Oh? Our little captive was behind it?” Braid asked, nodding towards the slumped woman even as his thread-based concealing formation wove itself around the little group when they started to move out from the wall of the sect and out into the surrounding landscape. Wander was updating the others of their success, but due to the guild’s little stunt and its inevitable aftermath, it was probable that Kite, Dragonfly and the others would need to remain for a little while longer.
“She was going around and riling up the disciples, in the usual treacherous way of her ilk,” River confirmed. “From the few members of that particular clergy that I have managed to track down over the years, that seems to be their usual mode of operations. In this case, it was just made a lot more simple because those fools had already started entertaining the notion, needing just a little tip over the edge.”
“Do you think she’ll know something worthwhile then~?” Wander asked, skittering over to the unconscious woman still slung across River’s shoulder while poking and prodding the woman’s robes with her tiny paws.
“A bronze like her? Doubtful? But every bit helps. And every one of those pests cleared out is another victory for my path,” River answered, voice as flat as usual. “They will know pain lasting nine generations.”
“Because that is a totally normal and not at all crazy sentiment to have~,” Wander said from her new perch on the unconscious junior elder. “Totally, completely sane~.”
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“To the guild!” Kite called, raising his glass of northern sap-wine to the others gathered around the table in the guildhall, the call echoed by several of them. While the silvers had their own little gathering along with Second Spring, the other members shared the merriment in the rest of the guild's small compound in convergence, with over two dozen others irons and bronzes taking part of the celebrations.
Stolen story; please report.
“The city is completely abuzz with your little show, Kite. Me and Spring have been working hard to properly evaluate the influx of other outcasts looking to join us,” Walker said with a content smile after drinking deep. “Seven years of some kind of calm between us and the Luminous Cloud sect… If we can continue with this stroke of victories, that time should allow us to dig in deep. Maybe even show the stubborn locals that we aren’t attempting to change their very way of life and livelihood.”
“The monetary concessions sure were helpful too,” Second Spring added, speaking up more easily around the silvers as she was a bit into her cups as well. Not enough to drop her proper posture and demeanor, but the slight flush to her cheeks and her aura told another story. “Not that I advocate any more backstabbing or betrayal, but you sure wrung a lot out of them, elder brother Kite.”
“I had good help,” Kite replied, nodding to Little Crow. “But it did prove rather fortunate, allowing us to recuperate a lot of the lost income from the sects’ interference so far.”
“Oh, my dear adopted brother is just trying to deflect from his most bold actions,” the onyx-haired celestine protested, leaning in and wrapping an arm around Kite’s shoulders, glass held high. “He might be all polite and forthright, but there is proper, hard jade in the Pathbreaker. Those remaining sect elders seemed rather taken aback by the solidity of his presence, especially after the little show we put on in the beginning.”
“Cornering them through publicity was still a most satisfying move,” Walker chuckled. “There are few ways to wriggle out of a challenge delivered like this, especially with the criers we hired here. Hence, they all know of our victory.”
“And would know of our failure too,” Kite countered, even while his own smile was undiminished.
“Such is the way of choices, little Kite. Actions having consequences is a rather unavoidable fact of life. And the sects sure will come to regret theirs.”
“Speaking of…” Dragonfly ventured. “Any word from the potential priestess that woman dragged out?”
The question did add a somber note to the atmosphere, eyes turning to one of Wander’s bodies who had its whole snout stuck into a nearby glass. As the first answer only came out as bubbles, Braid reached out and gently lifted the little rodent up by the scruff of its neck.
“I said-,” Wander repeated, “- that there hasn’t been much news yet. But gods, she is rather scary when she puts her mind to it~.”
“From your earlier comments, I wouldn’t have expected that particular sentiment to be a new one,” Braid noted, some shifting beneath his cloth mask hinting at a raised eyebrow.
“Well, sure. But earlier, she was more ‘dark and brooding, slightly unhinged as she sought vengeance´-scary. But now? This is the priestess in her. She’s intense. But so far, the bronze-ranker doesn’t seem to have known much except some hints of more measures that she might be instructed to take should some kind of ‘council’ give the decree. I expect that we’ll get to turn the captured priestess over to the clergy of Unity or someone like them soon enough. They can probably make sure that the rest is handled with discretion and to make local politics explode. River is just making sure that she isn’t holding anything back before we do~.”
The rat’s words had left the atmosphere growing even heavier, but eventually Dragonfly spoke up in an attempt to shatter the pall of somber reflections.
“Well, at least that is one less of that particular kind of priestess to worry about. And where there is one, there might be more. I may not have liked the plan initially, but it has merit. I mean, what if these hidden priests were responsible for the sects acting out in the first place? They did seem to want to urge things on quite a lot.”
“Or maybe that was just them spreading the purview of their god?” Kite suggested. “From what Little Crow told us, the sects seem to want to impress higher powers in the heartlands who seem frustrated or offended by us going about things differently.”
“Ah, but you forget, dear adopted brother, that this all started with us noticing investigations into you in particular,” the assassin added, his normally casual, pleasant tone carrying a bit of an edge. “Dragonfly’s words are ones to keep in mind. I will send word back to the family with such musings. This might be connected to the stir you have been making even before that, given yours and the guild’s role in hunting down cells of undesirables.”
“That… would be troubling. But you are making sense,” Kite agreed, leaning back in his chair. Thinking about it all, it did put some fuel on the fire of certain worries of his own. The connections had been vague so far, but if they continued to find more clergy of Discord in other sects, or similar cells of other restricted essence users or similar foul gatherings, combined with more attempts to drown their guild in strife… “Well, we need to explore this further, even if the mere implications here feel most daunting. See what we can find with the other sects. The criers should already have started, no?”
“They have,” Walker confirmed. “While it pains me to give them more time to prepare, I do believe that sticking to the most public of routes will give them even less room to try and evade what is to come. Our grand, most ‘honorable’ sects can’t be seen backing down from a chance to both defend their own honor and show themselves superior to their rivals, no?”
“Just don’t forget what you promised me, Pathbreaker,” Soul noted from where she sat meditating in a corner, unwilling to participate in any celebrations.
“Have no fear, Soul. Have no fear,” Kite assured the celestine. “In both cases, things should be moving along soon. The Perfected Step sect is next, after all. And as for what we suspect will come in that other matter… I can only once more relay the sentiment that we, the guild, will be in your care.”
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“-and as for that other matter, the development with that little guild in the north seems to have taken a turn,” the woman in the black wooden mask noted matter of factly.
“Oh? Did they crumble sooner than expected? Three sects should be more than enough,” the gold-masked man asked, turning to the final gold-ranked member of their council. “You have taken the lead in the matter. Anything with which you want to enlighten the rest of us?”
The high priestess, once more clad in her mask of white porcelain, looked upon her two so-called peers. All of them knew each other, but kept the masks during their council meeting so that their identities wouldn’t spread uncontrollably throughout the lower ranks of Hua-Xi’s clergy of Discord. After all, the reports they were getting spoke a clear truth; being one of their ilk was getting fraught with more and more danger by the week.
“The guild seems to have shown previously unrevealed resources,” she began, weighing her words carefully. “We do not know if it is divine interference or other powers at play, but they managed a counterattack through a surprisingly elite force of silvers, challenging their way through the entire leadership of the Luminous Cloud sect.”
“Such folly was surely punished severely?” gold mask retorted, skepticism clear in his tone.
“Such ‘folly’ led to the Luminous Cloud sect being forced into seven years of non-interference, seen, witnessed and testified by a local priest of Warrior,” porcelain mask replied.
“Bah, surely that cannot stand. They will just find another way to crush them.”
“But until then, the guild has struck a blow against our efforts. And with the delay in reports from the north, we only know that they had publicly announced going after Perfected Step next. There is no backing down from that, not with the other sects and similar worldly powers of the capital watching. For all we know, they have already succeeded or failed.”
“You were the instigator of this project. What do you propose?” black wooden mask asked. “Because it is starting to sound like things are getting out of hand, in a way that is not according to the will of our god.”
“Measures have been prepared. Given the earlier results, I see little point in trying to interfere with whatever the outcome of the guild challenging the Perfected Step sect. Instead, I would send word to our assets within Mirrored Mountain to prepare to flip the table and change the nature of the conflict. Our resources might be more limited than we’d like up there, but with what we have cultivated so far, we only need a torch to light a new kind of fire.”
“I approve of this,” black wood mask stated, with gold mask nodding his agreement.
“I do as well, but this better shows results. Too many projects of yours up north have yielded little to no results as of late, and I’m starting to question your judgment as part of this council,” he said, the air growing tense beneath his towering gold-ranked aura. This was no core-user, but a fully fledged warrior in service of their god. “More failures might mean that we should disregard your protests in moving up our general timeline, as this patient approach of yours seems to be a bit too far-sighted even for the workings of lord Discord.”
Porcelain mask only nodded in response, keeping any snide remarks to herself. She was the most junior member of this council, after all, and her position mostly built on her close proximity to the king and the court of Heavenward. While she had a world of ideas of how she would have done things, she had to recognize that their undertaking was too much for her to command alone.
“Then I have communications to send. The budding domain of our lord must be protected and cultivated without interference. This little guild and presumably the Adventure society backing it will be drowned in discord and strife, so that our work can reach fruition. But there are still many years left. Haste will only make his garden lesser.”
“We… shall see.” was gold mask’s curt response.
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The susurrus that rippled through the gathered crowds was barely recognized by Soul’s senses when the downward chop of her hand broke the wrist of her opponent’s outstretched arm. Sure, her increased spatial awareness and general sensitivity to any and all surrounding stimuli when in combat did note the gasps and murmurs from the stands around them, but it was simply filtered away as unimportant in comparison to Soul’s own path; perfection of the self as a warrior.
But that perception was currently eluding her, much to her chagrin. The chopping strike should, given the right angle, force and accompanying special attack, have been able to actually sever the wrist of Sect Leader Journey, who Soul was currently facing in a duel. She had only seen the man fight a few times, and while Soul had to admit that the man was decently competent, all that time spent politicking and managing the sect had taken its toll.
“But still, the Grim Cleaver style will need more working on. Shame, I had hoped to have mastered it properly by now. May Warrior have patience with my failings,” she thought as she whirled away from the sect leader’s counterattack, his broad-edged sword seeming to flow from one hand to the other like water reshaping itself according to the man’s will.
“You will pay for that, traitor. It is but a drop in the irreverence which you have shown the sect that took you in and nurtured you-” the man kept rambling, but Soul had shut that out long ago.
Neither his words or the surrounding crowds had fazed her in the least, especially as the former were just the yapping of a hypocrite who had shaped the sect whose elders had tried to collar Soul in her sleep. As for the latter, it turned out that the Perfected Step sect had chosen to step up to the guild’s challenge in an equally public matter, even going as far as inviting people to witness them handling the upstart organization. For an entry fee. A gamble, of course, but Soul would leave it to those that cared for such things to speculate if it had been a worthwhile one or not. Soul only wanted to temper herself further, and if the man that was the leader of such a rotten sect was to be her next whetstone, then she surely wouldn’t complain.
Adding a bit of the more flexible Primordial Vine style to her motions, Soul countered the next attempted watery shockwave by teleporting through the attack while simultaneously striking out to further aggravate the man’s broken wrist with a lashing strike while she swept one of his legs. For a split moment, the older silver-ranker lost his footing, and before his supreme reflexes could save him, Soul activated one of the powers of her swift essence, and she briefly sped up to kick his other knee hard enough to cause tendons and bones to creak ominously even through the sect leader’s armor. Soul might only have one special attack, but it was hard to beat the efficiency of transcendent damage, leaving the rest to Soul’s individual skill and the many styles she sought to master. Just as she liked it.
The exchange did lead to several thin streams of water gouging chunks out of her left arm, but Soul’s passive regeneration, greatly increased through her resolute essence, quickly caused them to start closing. But said exchange and sped-up intervention also led to one prone sect leader, one that would soon feel the true strength of the Primordial Vine style Soul had been working on so diligently.
A vicious kick to one arm delayed the man getting back to his feet for just a moment longer, enough so that Soul could dive for his other arm, locking it in place outstretched between her knees and trapping the sect leader prone on his stomach. Primordial Vine style featured a lot of grappling, after all, and against a single opponent, maintaining such control could lead to easy victories. But when it came to essence-users, this did become a rather complicated affair, as maintaining a hold on someone with magically enhanced strength, the ability of flight, melding into the earth or projecting scorching flames from their body was a different kind of beast. You had to add your respective power sets into the consideration along with mass and skill, and Soul already knew that she would have a hard time trapping someone walking the sect leader’s path for any extended amount of time.
But for the surprisingly strong and swift Soul, with her Mighty Strength and Great Speed powers, some techniques of the Primordial Vine style helped her create techniques that fit her build and speed. Because many vines hid vicious thorns, their entangling lashings brief, but painful.
The brief moment of control allowed Soul to deliver two swift jabs of transcendent damage to an exposed neck before the man counterattacked, firing two more streams of pressurized water towards Soul while water burst from beneath them to launch them upwards. Or at least himself, as Soul had already sprung off him only to dodge another beam of water before grabbing the man’s broken arm, anchoring herself enough to turn his upward momentum into a curving arc ending in him being slammed down into the ground again, struck thrice before Soul released her hold to dodge and counter again while constantly hindering the increasingly frustrated and pained proud leader of the Perfected Step sect to actually find his footing again.
The damage she did take remained superficial and within acceptable limits, and as their earlier exchanges hadn’t shown any powers which would force Soul to change tactics - most being different kind of sword strikes and water conjurations - their clash was swiftly devolving to a one-sided beatdown which she supposed would be found a bit humiliating by most. Soul had never understood that particular sentiment, as being beaten by someone identifying and noting the gaps in your paths and style should be a good learning opportunity. At least in most cases. But in this? A particular choice, or rather demand, which Sect Leader Journey had made at the very start of their clash would soon come back to bite him.
After breaking the man’s other arm at the elbow and both legs in several places through brief but brutal use of knees, leverage and occasionally even the burst of force from the man’s own attempt to use pressurized water to find his feet again, Soul felt ready to be done with things.
“-there will be eternal vengeance haunting your line for-”
Still constantly rambling, the man tried to prop himself up by controlling conjured water to create a kind of enveloping bubble around himself in order to be able to stand, but such flimsy conjurations were easily shattered by a swift series of blow, toppling the larger man to land on his back in a spray of droplets and blood.
Only when Soul started walking up to him, planting one foot on his chest right atop his golden sect medallion, did the man’s proud facade crack.
“W-wait. Mercy. I surrender. The victory is yours. I-”
“It was you who insisted - nay, demanded - that this clash was to be to the death, sect leader,” Soul stated, centering herself as she found her balance in preparation. She could find the right angle. She just knew that she could. “We both swore it solemnly before Warrior. And in front of him, I will not be found a liar.”
“No, gods- stop- hal-”
Feeling that sense of rightness that Soul recognized as her being ready; body, mind and spirit having found balance and grasped what she had been striving towards, she moved. Hand outstretched, flattened like a blade and glowing with transcendent light, Soul’s single strike cleaved through the prone man’s throat in a single, perfect arc, sending a spray of blood off to the side. The head barely moved beyond rolling slightly to the side, such was the cleanness of her strike, and the man’s aura winked out, the fear and desperation severed as abruptly as a thread snapping after being held too taut for far, far too long.
There was a moment of silence across the hastily erected arena, disbelief, excitement, outrage, fear and multitudes of other emotions flickering across the auras of the onlookers before the voice of Orichalcum Fist rang out like the clashing of swords.
“Victory goes to Soul, blessed by Warrior. May this clash have left you tempered, and become another step on your path towards the heavens.”