Like the points of a triangle converging on a single spot, the points of three straight swords plunged into a winding mass of chains in the middle of the otherwise empty dining hall. The passage of their wielders would have been enough to easily shatter the simple low wooden tables and other furniture, but none of the combatants seemed to be willing to resort to more collateral damage than needed at the moment. Instead, each step of the three identical-looking women was careful and measured, as were their strikes. But their target’s response proved their better, as the points of their blades never found the softer resistance of flesh among the twined chains.
Their heads snapped up too late to see River already vaulting out from the coiled links and over her assailants, more chains trailing her form while a twisting motion of her wrist sent the coiled mass left behind into action. It unfurled like the blooming of a violent flower, thrashing chains striking against anything within a few meters while snagging blades and limbs with indiscriminate abandon.
One of the three assailants did lose her blade and all three were struck and hampered as they disengaged, suffering a few painful lashes before getting clear. They did prove competent however, immediately continuing their pursuit of River around the unexpected hazard, two blades and one leaping kick aiming for her descending form. River shifted through one of them, instantly moving two meters to the side and through the attacking silver-ranker before lashing out with three of the conjured chains still attached to her while two more shot out to drag her out of the way of the follow-up attacks.
The pace was frantic, three opponents chasing after her even as she continued to weave through the room while leaving her ever-present trail of chains; a staple power that had remained unchanged in purpose since iron rank only to grow in potential for each new realm of power she had reached. But River’s path had always been to dance through the chaos and make way for the ever tightening web of control that she spun. And the first few exchanges, with only blades and chains doing the talking, did let her confirm a bit of her suspicions about her opponents.
The trio fought with straight blades and nimble tactics, surrounding and constantly using movement powers and footwork to flank and attempt to outmaneuver. Occasionally, a flashing dagger wreathed in lightning would appear in one of their hands, delivering a single, more powerful surprise attack before it vanished again, and from the looks of it none of River’s lashing strikes and painful blows left a lasting mark on either of them, even going as far as visibly regenerating a broken arm in seconds.
“Speed, regeneration, movement, bursts of damage… In a set of three, a devastating combination,” River inwardly mused. Her father’s lessons already had her questioning the likelihood of such a trio even existing in a world of random essence powers, even if it did appear to be the case here. But it was his training, and all the controlled agony she had endured to scar and strengthen her soul, that allowed her to part the veils and realize the truth. And through that truth lay victory, as long as River could get her timing right.
The combatants clashed again, and she accepted a light cut to her cheek while another blade scraped along a raised vambrace, all worthy sacrifices to have six of River’s nine chains aim for the final of the three opposing women, whose thrust with the lightning-wreathed dagger would have been the decisive strike. The woman was yanked along with River’s own motions as her chains pulled her to the side even as thorns grew from the links that had managed to thoroughly wind themselves around the calf of one leg and the thigh of the other. At the same time, one of River’s free chains snuck in and struck one of the first two assailants, delivering a curse which would, among other things, afflict the target with the Inescapable affliction.
Before her prey could free herself further, River unleashed her special attack usually reserved as the finisher to a fight. The thorns growing from the chains became both longer and sharper before the twisting, constricting set of links unwound. This process had always been a quick one, but at silver rank, the speed had turned rather absurd. In the blink of an eye, a high-pitched whine was followed by a slightly belated scream of agony as both of the opposing silver-rankers legs were severed in a messy explosion of gore.
The decisive move did give the other two assailants pause as they were stepping in to engage River once more, and she took the moment to drive home another spike of doubt into their morale.
“Impressive work of synchronization,” she noted, towering above the downed foe even as her chains flicked to clear themselves of the blood in a neat spray. “But I don’t believe that you will be able to heal from that one. Because that is not part of your path, but ‘her’s’, isn’t it?” River finished, nodding to one of the other silvers still on their feet before turning back to her crippled foe. “The question is, are you the illusionist or the dagger-wielder?”
A lightning-wreathed dagger thrown towards her from below answered that question well enough, and River whirled out of the way in a blur of motion while one of her chains impaled the offending arm to the floor. “I see,” she stated, voice flat as ever. “That leaves illusionist and flesh-warper.”
The startled pulse going through the auras of all her foes was the final confirmation needed. River had felt something off with the trio even while she drew closer, beyond their aura masks that ostensibly made them feel identical. And while exchanging blows, the undercurrents she managed to dig out from beneath the obscuring layer over their spirits made her realize that the three were indeed rather different in paths, and probably in looks as well.
One had to be an illusionist, making sure that the group looked and sounded alike, among other potential tricks along those lines. Another had to be on some kind of flesh-aspected path with potent self-healing. And at least one of them - River guessed the flesh-warper, a guess which was probably correct if she went by the result of her gamble - also had a power to rapidly and frequently swap places with their teammates beneath the illusions to accept blows that would land. That was why she targeted that particular ‘copy’ with her inescapable curse, and why it had paid such dividends.
“Still, you are inferior,” River stated coldly, sending more chains to harass her downed opponent while advancing towards the other two. It was rather satisfying to feel their resolve breaking before her advance, River’s own pain-inducing aura bearing down on theirs as their spiritual defenses faltered. But it did come with certain, annoying consequences.
An unspoken conversation seemed to be held between the two assailants remaining on their feet for a fleeting moment, before they - while demonstrating the same level of impressive coordination as before - bolted. River was about to pursue immediately, but was forced to abort her first attempted burst of speed as the downed ‘woman’ attacked her again, showing a surprising degree of loyalty to the others as ‘she’ accepted more strikes of River’s chain in order to deliver a criss-crossing series of lightning slashes that came at the priestess in crackling waves before throwing her dagger again. At the same time, more illusions of the escaping pair started forming, filling the room with chaotic lights and sounds that tore into River’s senses, even somewhat confounding her aura sense.
Inaction would not do, however, and River turned back to finish her downed foe quickly so as to not risk her whole pursuit failing due to some other tricks, striking a rapid-fire series of attacks with a frustrated snort. Most illusionists had limits to the scope and number of illusions they could maintain at the same time, and the fleeing one in this case seemed no different, as the guise of the ‘woman’ on the ground bled away to reveal a human man with sharp, handsome features.
At least they looked that way before River’s armored shin impacted his cheek, a special attack from her dance essence causing her sweeping leg to move like lightning as part of her controlled series of movement used to ruthlessly beat down and suppress any further attempts at struggling. Finishing him took only a dozen heartbeats, her barbed chains soon finding his neck and turning it into a gory mess even without the help of her executing special attack.
But a dozen heartbeats was a lot of time for two silvers to gain quite the lead even without essence powers to help them, and the last gobbets of torn throat hadn’t yet touched down upon the wooden tables and worn cushions of the dining hall before River passed through the hole in the sliding walls in hot pursuit. Pursuing an illusionist was always a chore too, but in this case, River still had the pair’s spiritual scent. And as she vaulted across yards, streets and rooftops in pursuit, she already had an inkling as to their destination.
“Dedicated bunch, huh~?” Wander noted from within River’s hood as it was made obvious that the pair was heading straight for the arena to the north of the sect’s main compound, either to find some kind of safety in numbers or, more likely from the feel River had gotten from them, on their way to enact their mission even in face of the opposition. “You have to give it to the church of you-know-who; they sure know how to find other people to bleed and die for their cause~.”
River didn’t know if the jibe had been intentional, but she forcefully fought down the memories of her father and his hidden sect - used and discarded - and the hot anger those memories brought back in her.
They were just a few dozen meters away from the massive stone bridge leading towards the peak-turned-arena when River finally found herself within striking range again, chains seeking the backs of her fleeing quarry. But that was also why River was once again reminded of another annoying aspect of hunting an illusionist.
“Help! Disciples, assist us! An invader is coming for the elders!”
Just before turning the last corner before the bridge, the illusions covering the two fleeing silvers shifted into young men wearing the robes of the sects. A closer inspection would probably have let the six bronze-rankers guarding the bridge note that something was amiss, but a blood-splattered River in hot pursuit with barbed chains already reaching for the fleeing pair was apparently a most excellent distraction in that regard.
“Mirrored Mountain! Form up and- aaaagh!” the lead of the bronze-ranked disciples called, snapping from what River could only suspect to have been frustrated boredom at the position as a guard during such interesting events, probably handed out as some kind of penalty or punishment. His day suddenly became a lot worse as his side was suddenly cut open by the two fleeing silvers passing through their midst, the pair creating quite some carnage as their guises shifted again.
“Hah! Fall before the might of the Autumn Wanderer’s guild!” one of the running silvers called over his back, clothes now having shifted to ‘reveal’ the green cape and leaf emblem instead. Once again, the theatrics might have been rather easy to doubt, but being cut apart by unexpected violence once again tended to skew one’s perception of things.
River could only watch helplessly while sprinting towards the bridge in pursuit as the leading disciple heroically ignored his own wounds to activate an array stone at his belt even as he was falling to the ground.
“The mountain… endures…”
Not even a blink later, a shimmering defensive array appeared, cutting off the whole mouth of the stone bridge along with several dozen meters of the edge in both directions. A secondary barrier appeared to shield the group of guarding disciples from the other direction as well, even though the fleeing ‘guilders’ did not bother to make any more attacks as they covered the final stretch towards the arena.
The appearance of the barrier sent a stinging feedback into River’s mind as her chains, already rushing past the beleaguered disciples in pursuit of the actual foes, were severed by the powerful defensive barrier that snapped into place. Her pursuing momentum was too great to simply stop, but with the perfect balance and control of her dance essence, it was simple for River to just step up onto the barrier, run up and long its surface for a few meters before vaulting backwards to land in a graceful crouch. She ignored the challenging calls of the terrified disciples, looking after the two remaining silvers who were almost at one of the arena’s entrances.
“I will claim that I did what I could, and that I thus have upheld my end of the bargain. Time to do the same, myriad one. And perhaps warn the annoying one?” River noted silently to the rat still residing inside her hood.
“Yeah, I guess you did~,” the rat mused, peeking out to look after their actual targets. “Alright, time to go hunt down a little priest instead. Kite and the others can hopefully handle things. Probably. Perhaps. Maybe~?”
River had already turned and left, sensing that other disciples left guarding the sect proper had been drawn by the ruckus and obvious lightshow of the array, and she did not care to waste time on dispatching them.
“Then do your part, and guide me.”
“Sure, crazy girl. Let me just do that while doing a dozen other things at the same time. Thank you, Wander, for being such a selfless multi-tasker. You’re welcome, Wander. Here, have infinite praise and a warehouse of cheese. But does anyone say that? Nooo~-” the rat said, starting her little monologue of complaints even as she and River left the scene, moving rapidly across the rooftops towards another of their quarries and the resolution of their deal. And thus would karma be severed.
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“Ward!”
Dual discs of force appeared before yet another gout of flame, an accompanying cheer erupting from the various sect disciples as their sect leader turned yet another part of the sand floor of the arena to crackling glass. Fortunately, whatever flames that managed to lap around the barrier splashed harmlessly over the magically charged surface of Kite’s armor, consuming the Impervious boon that it had built up through their duel so far.
“And once more I thank Fortune for my rather odd path. Taking on this clash as a more conventional magic fighter would have been a lot more challenging,” Kite thought as he countered, pulsing his mantle to send a trio of projected attacks in return towards his foe, their dispelling force cleaving through the flaming breath before impacting, draining some more mana.
“The mountain endures, brat. Do you really think that you can outlast me?” Sect Leader Bright Shining Stride asked, the man looking very much his namesake as he was currently covered in reflective scales, lingering flames flicking about his lips as he spoke.
Kite had to give it to the sect leader that his path was also a rather odd one. He had never heard of the Glimeron confluence before his preparations for this challenge, formed of the mirror, venom and fire essences to give a power set based around the pangolin-like magical creatures with its reflective scales. Using Sage in any offensive capacity had quickly turned out to be a study in futility, as most magical projectiles seemed to simply be reflected off the scales, the defenses even having proved resistant enough to magical influence to block Kite’s own attempts at dispelling them. Physical force did work, even though the scales gave a manner of defense in that regard, but going into melee with the sect leader was a rather intense affair as Kite had to content with breathed fire and venomous special attacks delivered through a flexible bladed whip-sword as well as the claws that came with the scaled transformation.
Off to the side, Glint was currently holding the man’s familiar - unsurprisingly, a bonded Glimeron familiar - at bay. While she still lacked more offensive means than attacking through beams of pressurized water, Glint was nimble and cunning enough to easily negate and curtail the lumbering pangolin, flames quenched before they could reach her as she floated around in her larger, serpentine form.
“I cast no aspersions on the endurance and tenacity of the Mirrored Mountain, Sect Leader, but I will question its honor and judgment,” Kite countered, using his mantle more and more to deliver a steady stream of attacks. Fighting an opponent with the mirror essence usually meant at least some means of damage or power reflection even without taking any confluences into account, and the sect leader was no exception. Multiple weak attacks became the way to go as Kite would have to eat the effects of his own strikes every now and then, and he still did not dare to use anything more potent as that might literally backfire on him.
“A brat like you questioning our venerable sect is already evidence enough. Our institution has staked our claim for hundreds of years, and you are but a fleeting weed trying to invade our slopes, soon to be forgotten-”
None of the words exchanged caused the clashing to stop, with claw and whip-sword scoring the occasional wound upon Kite while his spiritual blows and presence ate away at the reserves of his foe. As its damaging beams were of little help, Sage instead had to work hard in using its charges to cleanse the venom delivered with each strike, which still wasn’t enough to nullify the impact of the afflictions. Both warriors were slowly but surely whittling each other down, and a more decisive strike landed by one of them had even more potential to swing the bout in either’s favor.
Kite was just about to try for such a strike, having managed to bait out the most readily available reflection power a moment earlier. In a feint of footworks, he suddenly stepped off a pane of force in the air to take himself in a different direction than the sect leader expected, armored greave stomping down on the extended sword-whip as he came down swinging. Sect Leader Bright wisely dropped the weapon and leapt back, but was still hit by the following two projected attacks, ripples in the air carrying both Disruptive Strike and Chakra Implosion.
The slight stunning effect would have been a perfect opportunity for Kite to further press the advantage, but as his expanded field of vision revealed the tiny form of a rat scuttling down one of the walls leading into the arena before it started sprinting with all its little silver-ranked speed towards him, he instead mirrored the sect leader in backing off and creating some distance.
“Wander?” he murmured as the rat took a surprisingly mighty leap to clear the last five meters, almost skittering off the pauldron of his armor given her great momentum.
“Kite! Treachery is afoot! You need to move towards the northwestern wall now!” the rat squeaked, urgency clear in her tone.
While that would be rather disadvantageous in his current duel, Kite had also found that the less singsong there was in Wander’s tone, the more urgent things were. And there hadn’t even been a hint of it in her proclamations as she urged him to act, her ability to project seriousness into the squeaking voice of a rat most impressive.
So instead of pressing his advantage, Kite sent a few harrying attacks the way of the sect leader, maneuvering around his foe to a better starting position before he started a dead sprint towards the wall in question.
“What is this? Fleeing before your betters?” came the taunting call from Sect Leader Bright before the man started his pursuit.
“Wall!” Kite snapped in return, enclosing the man in as many barriers as possible. Without him remaining near to reinforce them, the man would chew through the obstacles in seconds, but seconds was probably all that Kite needed. At least he hoped so.
“-incoming illusionist and other, setting you up,” Wander continued her explanation. “I’ve warned the others, but the elders are making things hard on them.”
Her words were confirmed by a glance, where Kite saw Dragonfly and Little Crow squaring off against a line of disgruntled elders apparently none too pleased with them suddenly getting up and starting to rapidly move along the stands. Another trio of elders was currently chasing after Soul, who had, true to form, seen little point in humoring the pointed questions of foes she and the rest of them had already defeated in earlier duels, passing the line in a blur of movement. She would still have to circumvent the arena floor itself though, forced to take a longer route around to the portion Wander was indicating; the section where the junior elders of the sects - irons and bronzes all - were seated.
Just as the sect leader broke through the cage he had been left inside, Kite had drawn close enough to the stone wall surrounding the arena, beginning to climb upward through the air via the sustained version of Leyline Warding. And that was when he saw them; a pair of figures dressed in the green cloaks of the guild, complete with adorning leaf patterns. None of them looked like anyone Kite himself recognized, but as Wander had warned him about illusionists, he would have been surprised if that had been the case. All of their publicly known silvers were already in attendance, after all.
The pair didn’t hold back their auras either, blasting them out and therefore making it impossible for anyone with essences to miss them.
“Death to the sects! Our guild will reign in these lands, and your weaklings will be culled!” one of them called, voice magically empowered as the nondescript man dramatically brandished a thick, curved sword before the suddenly terrified lower-rankers before him, most of them core-users in administrative or logistical functions.
The other one spared their prey no words, drawing a similar blade and lifting it in preparation for a vicious slash. Even without special attacks, the thick slab of a sword and the strength of a silver would be enough to brutalize anyone lower ranked.
Kite, though, did have some words of his own, his chant drowning out the cries of outrage and betrayal from all around the arena.
“Dissolve the patterns of power!”
Knowing what he did of the structure, Kite had only one option with which to intervene. Or at least one option which might have a chance to pass through the defenses and make a difference. There were protective arrays in place all around the edge between the wall enclosing the fighting space and the stands in order to protect the audience from any stray, harmful things coming their way. It felt like the world slowed down to Kite’s senses as the almost unseen ripple started to expand from him, making its way towards the sections of the stands currently in the earliest stages of chaos as the junior elders were belatedly starting to react to the threat in different ways. Some were simply frozen in disbelief or incomprehension, while others were starting to activate what defensive or evasive means that they could.
Fortune did smile upon Kite once more as his spell seemed to pass through the array without the defenses triggering, washing over the section of the stands. While this did cause some activating magic to fizzle and fail, Kite sending a few more quick and silent prayers to the deity that this in and of itself wouldn’t cause undue deaths, it did have the most important effect; the one of which he had hoped for.
Green cloaks vanished like mist beneath a gale, taking the features and most other visible parts of the two silver-ranked assailants with them. This revealed an elven man and human woman standing, swords raised even though they both flinched as the dispelling effects carried the sting of transcendent damage. Still, it was not enough to deter the blade already in motion, and Kite was just about to hope that his barriers would also be allowed to be cast through the array when the need for further intervention disappeared. How could he hope to outdo perfection, after all?
Soul’s arrival was like a lightning strike, roiling thunder echoing in her wake as she was suddenly upon the pair of would-be assailants. Nearby junior elders were still sent staggering or tumbling away from her passage, and even more so as her upward kick impacted the flat of the swinging blade from beneath. The thick cleaver was forced upwards so abruptly and with such force that its wielder, the human woman, was sent staggering backwards for a step in order to maintain her balance, and Soul did not let such a critical opening go to waste as another punch to the woman’s side sent her stumbling into side of her fellow saboteur to further hinder his attempted slash.
“Brat! What treachery is this?!” came the outraged roar from the rapidly approaching Sect Leader Bright, the silvery man charging towards Kite with all the speed he could muster.
“I could ask you the same, sect leader,” Kite shot back, turning to face the man after sharing a look with Soul where the celestine woman clearly conveyed that she would be able to manage.
“Oh please, Pathbreaker. They are nothing before perfection,” had been the more exact message Kite had gotten, but he still couldn’t help but partially keep an eye on things through his expanded vision.
“I know not what kind of attempted slander this was supposed to be -,” Kite continued, “- but even at a glance I can see that it was a most crude one.”
“As if I would trust such words from an outcast, especially one having the gall to throw such accusations back at us; the ones clearly in danger,” Sect Leader Bright scoffed, even though the outrage and anger Kite could sense beneath his arrogant facade were most genuine.
“Then me and mine shall swear so before Truth, proving our innocence-”
“Bah, as if we’d let you get out of here under such pretenses! We always knew that you had no honor, and that this was only to be expected,” the sect leader retorted, interrupting Kite while projecting his aura even further to grab the attention of the rest of the arena. “Mirrored Mountain sect! Elders! We have been betrayed! Seize the intruders and-”
Even the beginning of his proclamations had caused quite a stir, the tense posturing in the stands taking on a more severe note by the moment as essence powers started being activated in preparation of possible violence, it turned out to be the sect leader’s turn to be interrupted.
“I will remind you, Sect Leader Bright, of the Queen’s decree and that clash upon which you have sworn before Warrior,” Orichalcum Fist said, his voice calm but with a clear sense of disapproval. “A clash that has yet to be concluded.”
“But honored priest, surely you must see that whatever trickery this so-called guild just attempted must have precedence over-”
“All I see, sect leader, is that members of the Autumn Wanderer’s guild had put a stop to whatever interference that just occurred,” Orichalcum Fist noted, nodding towards where Soul was currently brutalizing one of the interlopers quite badly. The other had apparently tried to take an opportunity to escape, only to run into what could only be described as a torrent of rats which had flooded out of the would-be exit. And while Wander’s myriad tiny bites weren’t the most damaging, being buried in that amount of vermin was still quite the distracting experience.
“And as there does not seem to be much else to threaten these proceedings, I do not see anything taking precedence over this clash,” the priest finished, stern gaze locked on both Kite and the sect leader. “Let Truth and their servants work out the particulars when the actual important matters have been settled. Or will you disregard Warrior, sect leader, just like you seemed to disregard how Truth could shed light on this matter in the near future?”
While the question was a simple one, there was quite the amount of gravitas in the meaning behind them, and it suddenly felt like the tinge of divinity in the aura of the priest somehow felt a lot more prominent for that brief moment.
Sect Leader Bright looked from the priest, to Kite, to the now well-controlled brawl taking place in the stands, his face a controlled mask, his aura closed off to the world in an iron grip of control. His eyes, though, were calculating. Kite knew that the sect leader had kept his position for quite some time while slowly advancing through silver rank, and that he wasn’t stupid. Overly proud like most of them in a public setting? Yes. But he had also seen the potential opening and reason to abort the duel and simply apprehend the guild members for what it was, and had attempted to take it. His next words also confirmed Kite’s assumptions.
“Then I will heed the wishes of Warrior, honored priest,” the silver-scaled man eventually said, his tone even and controlled. “May the gods guide us to the truth of this matter. What comes of it will be for us mortals to handle.”
“Warrior approves of your wisdom,” Orichalcum fist agreed, gesturing down to the arena. “I believe that the both of you have a clash to conclude. Continue.”