Novels2Search

40. The first blow

“Why couldn’t we just portal directly there?” Dragonfly grumbled from where she sat in the wagon, one of many which stretched out in a train in both directions. While the wagon had padded seats and was clearly made for carrying passengers, the often uneven and bumpy roads of the autumn lands had quickly started to grate on her nerves.

“My father was quite clear about getting the whole expedition experience.” Will answered from where he sat, looking as motivated as when they had first left Gilded a few days ago. “The traveling, the waiting, the mix of adventure and logistics… Truly, a worldly experience worth having! And besides, Grim’s portals don't have the range to take us to the base camp, so we would need to portal-hop over there and therefore be separated from the rest of our force in what might be a critical time. So they aren’t up for this task, I’m afraid. No offense, Grim.”

“None taken, young master.” the man answered from where he sat in the driver’s seat, as dignified as ever while guiding the draft animals.

“So much for the privilege of having you along… The only thing we’ve gotten from it so far are ugly looks.” Dragonfly grumbled, with a glint in her eye to hint of it being rather good-natured.

Kite had rarely seen wagons when growing up, as he lived too far from any major roads worth maintaining in the forested landscapes. Starberry peak had mostly been supplied via messengers and couriers like uncle Walker with dimensional bags fortified for additional carrying capacity. While he knew it to be different in other parts of the country and the lands beyond, the ambient magic of the Autumn lands was too weak to fully power most magical vehicles, especially flying ones. And due to the terrain, both the dense forest and varying topography, most vehicles carrying more than one person were simply too big to pass in between the trees.

Therefore, good old heidel-drawn wagons were still the norm for most people and merchants traveling the roads where they were usable. While the going wasn’t the fastest it was still better than walking, and Kite and his companions had one mitigating factor to their journey in the shape of a huge carp which floated happily next to the wagon. They took turns riding Glint, and at the moment it was Serene’s turn to get out of the rattling wagon and enjoy the smooth, slow swaying as she half swam, half floated through the air. Many other familiars were on display, where one of the most exotic ones was a living tangle of green vines which carried its rider forwards on a multitude of limbs, easily weaving through the trees and over rocks.

“Still, it feels almost weird to finally be on our way. What do you think we will be doing for our first contract?” Dragonfly continued her musings.

“Apparently, Uncle Walker will brief us when we arrive.” Kite said, remembering the short order they had received so far. “But since we are attached to both him and Grim, it wouldn’t surprise me if we got contracts ranging farther out.

"When will master Force join us?” he then asked, turning to Dragonfly. The woman hadn’t been with them at the muster, apparently leaving early to some undisclosed location on business she hadn’t shared.

“She only said ‘soon’ when I asked her.” Dragonfly muttered, still displeased with not knowing more. “But she has always pulled through so far, so hopefully this time won’t be any different. Nothing stops her when she puts her mind to things!”

After that, the conversation drifted back to more pleasant topics. Kite got the sense that they all shared his feelings; eagerness but also trepidation. They knew that this upcoming expedition would be important, but also very dangerous, as their enemies were not only monsters of mere manifested magic.

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Grand elder White would normally have been pleased as he left the unmaking chamber, another white seal conquered. His latest project was one of the young iron-rankers brought in by his daughter, and while she had put up an admirable resistance as he slowly but surely undid first the red seal of her body, then the blue seal of her mind, the final seal of the soul had almost felt anticlimactic as she gave in to his ministrations and accepted his lord’s touch to spread across its surface and take hold.

However, his pleasure at doing lord Pain’s work was marred by yet more incompetence of his allies. Last night, they had received word that the reports from their infiltrators at the Gilded adventure society had ceased, proving once more in short order that those belonging to the path of lies weren’t as clever or well-hidden as they thought. This had cost them a valuable source of information. Now they only knew that the adventurers and the sects were coming.

He tried consoling himself that it would be of little matter as true dominance was shown only on the field of battle, but proper preparation was what took it into the realm of certainty.

“But as usual, only by taking command myself will the proceedings go according to my wishes.” he mused to himself as he once more walked into the underground estates where he kept his progeny and materials, both raw and worked.

His youngest progeny was already waiting for him, kneeling in the white sand next to one of the stalagmites which dotted the cave floor. The rest of the squads of his followers and battle-thralls had already been sent out in preparation, but he had held some of them back to enact his own decisions. Young River was one, and he had a task for her. He could feel her tension under his aura, but she remained composed.

“Progeny, you did well in procuring more raw material for us. As such, I have decided to give you another task. You know that the fools from the city are coming for us, thinking themselves able to stamp us out for good.”

“They are indeed foolish walking into our dominion, father.” the young woman acknowledged.

“And you will prove them even more so. Your order is to take another squad of battle-thralls out into the field. However, instead of joining the wider fronts you will pick out one of the locations of our so-called allies. Use your judgment and choose one that will probably already have been discovered or is soon to be. The red table or the path of pleasure are usually the worst at hiding their activities.”

“Father? Why not one of our own?” River asked, forcing herself through the pain of looking up at him.

“Use your mind, progeny.” was his terse response.

She thought it over, attempting to calm her mind through the mounting pain of his aura, formulating a response. “Because you have already made plans for ours.” she stated, sure in her answer and admonishing herself for not thinking it through before speaking.

Her father only nodded tersely in response before continuing. “You will ambush any adventurers seeking to exploit the follies of our allies. Let them wear themselves down a bit before you strike. I will grant you three of the bronze-ranked battle-thralls in addition to four iron-ranked as there will probably be a more divergent unit from the adventure society. Do not disappoint, progeny.” he finished, turning away and going back toward the unmaking chamber.

River smiled tensely as she held off the pain creeping down her spine. She had some planning to do.

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As the base camp of the expedition came into view, Kite couldn’t help but be impressed with what essence-users could achieve in short order. From his conversations with uncle Walker before he left, he knew that the camp had only been constructed over the last few days.

He wasn’t entirely sure that ‘camp’ was even the best word for it either. In the distance, he could see that three of the steep small mountains had been turned into what amounted to fortified towers. All over their surface there were carved defensive measures, such as battlements along the top and protruding parts of the sides and arrow slits spread out along the upper parts of the cliff. Even from afar, he could see the slight glow of magic from all three of them from what he assumed to be defensive formations.

The southernmost one was decked in the blue and silver of the descending star sect, long banners hanging down the cliff sides and pennants along the battlement. The northernmost one was equally gaudy, but flying the red, white and gold of the Victorious sunset sect. Only the middle one was unadorned, only the usual gray stone of the tall cliffs standing like a raised blade from the sea of foliage below.

“I see we did not aim for subtlety.” Kite mused as he regarded what would probably be the backbone of this operation.

They had traveled for days almost directly west, past the villages Kite and Dragonfly had passed through during their examination to join the adventure society and even further towards parts of the autumn lands which lay unclaimed by civilization. It was there that they would find their enemies, according to what they had been briefed so far.

“Indeed, little Kite. The ‘Spires of Conquest’ as the sects have named them aren’t exactly lacking in style.” came a gravelly voice from the woods at the side of the road, as a familiar figure seemed to form straight out of the underbrush. Serene seemed especially rattled as she had felt nothing of the bronze-ranker as uncle Walker had approached, fully within his element in the woodlands.

“Uncle!” Kite exclaimed happily as the older man joined them, walking next to the wagon, his strides easily eating the distance as Kite’s new magical perception could see the glow of a movement-power beneath his feet.

“I thought I’d go and see the younglings I would be responsible for, as well as my colleague. Your reputation precedes you, Grim Snowfall.” he finished, nodding to the manservant who sat at the driver’s seat.

“Brave Walker of Paths.” the dour elf nodded back. “May our service together be fruitful.”

“And our paths grow stronger for it.” uncle Walker finished. “And you must be young master Indomitable. It's a pleasure to meet you.” he said, bowing towards Will.

“Senior is most welcome. And please, call me Will during this venture. It would not do to remain too formal as we are among friends.” the young man answered. “Besides, my father thinks most highly of you for the ceaseless work you do for our most isolated villages.”

Walker looked a bit surprised at that, but after a nod from Grim he seemed to settle into the unexpected dynamic. “Well then, Will, you are most welcome. And do send my regards to your father for noticing a humble adventurer such as myself.”

“Uncle, what can we expect when we arrive?” Kite asked after Walker had been able to greet the rest of the group, including giving Glint a fond scratching. While they hadn’t met overly often, his uncle had become really smitten with the glittering familiar. He even produced another of the mystical scales Glint loved so, feeding it to her as he answered.

“The leadership can expect politics, make no mistake. The merit systems in place have gone some way to ensure cooperation, and the Victorious Sunset sect has been on surprisingly good behavior so far. But there is still the expected vying for glory.

Fortunately for us, we will be spared a lot of that as we are assigned to the scouting platoon and will be out in the field more than most.” At the collective sounds of dismay from Dragonfly and Will, he continued. “Don’t worry, you battle mad youngsters. That will just mean that we will range farther ahead for longer periods of time. I believe that mine, Grim and Serene’s presence tipped it firmly in that favor.”

Serene looked a bit surprised. “If I may ask, master Walker, why am I on that list?”

“Your aura senses are probably as powerful as mine, and definitely more refined. You will be one of our greatest tools of general detection for any target that isn’t a higher ranked scout or stealth specialist. And your healing and aura powers should greatly increase our own output as well.

Grim will be responsible for both logistics and area damage, while Dragonfly, Will and Force will be our main dealers of damage. Kite, you will be our more defensive member and responsive piece, keeping people off Serene and intervening or disrupting what you can.”

“And you, uncle?” Kite asked.

“Well, scout of course. But I will double up as an assassin as well when possible and the terrain favors it.” his uncle smiled grimly. Kite knew that while uncle Walker was skilled, he wasn’t mainly a direct combatant or duelist. But he also knew how slippery his powers made him while in areas rich in plant life. Which was basically the whole of the Autumn lands. “You all know about the merit system?”

They all nodded, having already been briefed. Apparently, completing the war-contracts gave you merit points which would be exchangeable for resources from the adventure society. Kite and his friends did enjoy getting paid, but as they had taken the deal from the society to receive the extra awakening stones up front, their rewards would be greatly diminished.

“I actually have our first contract already, so we will leave almost immediately.” Walker began, but looked at Dragonfly as she had a look of great concern on her face.

“Well…” she began. “Master Walker, do you know how master Force will find us out there? If we go further out than the rest, I mean?” It was clear that the absence of her master didn’t sit well with her.

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“Do not fret young one. Force is resourceful. And besides, she has been given tracking stones for us, as have I for each of you in case we get separated.”

Dragonfly seemed at least a bit mollified by it, and they spent the short remaining journey agreeing on different protocols for some common situations, such as getting separated or encountering more than they could take on.

Kite found that it felt good having them all around, especially having uncle Walker watch over them. His experience in his role was deep, and while his mentor was no armsmaster he was still a competent combatant. But there remained an uneasiness in the pit of his stomach as he looked towards the spires and the wilds beyond.

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Rupert Versis, deputy director of Gilded’s adventure society branch, stood at the top of their stone cliff. His acute hearing followed the preparations for battle echoing throughout its newly hollowed out interior, as adventurers found their assigned place of sleep or continued preparing the command outpost.

He turned his leonine head toward the two other silver rankers standing atop the cliff with him. “Mistress Dew. Master Vigil. Any thoughts on the initial contracts?”

Frost among Morning Dew just shook her silver hair, blue-painted lips curved into a smile. Rupert didn’t know her very well, but he knew of her competence. At a glance, she had seemed like just another battle-crazed local that had managed to survive long enough to reach silver rank. But her name gave a hint of her demeanor, and beneath the thrill-seeking combatant hid a cold, analytical mind. He supposed she would need it for her flexible, relentless style of combat.

Unbroken Typhoon Vigil was more of an unknown to Rupert, but so far he had found the bald celestine man quite pleasant. He was apparently a local originally, having moved south after his ascension to silver some years ago. Having participated in the original attack against the Unbreakable chains sect, he had apparently not been hard to incentivize to return for round two. His thin eyes and almost constant slight smile gave him a cheerful expression as he looked at Rupert.

“No complaints from this one, deputy director, only words of praise to your foresight. Arranging first contracts to be delivered to the participants while still on the march didn’t give the sects enough time to start squabbling. Our initial wave of attacks should progress smoothly. The only question this one still carries is how ready the enemy will be.” Vigil spoke in a cheery, almost singsong tone.

What Rupert did know was that there was apparently some kind of bad blood between Vigil and the Descending Star sect as well, although he knew little detail, And honestly, he didn’t care overly much. The man came recommended by their colleagues in the southern branches after all. And his senses didn’t pick up signs of falsehoods from him either.

“I would be very surprised if they weren't prepared. We have prioritized our targets as best we could from what the scholars and analysts have found, focusing the initial assault on the ones deemed least likely to have been moved or turned into traps.

Still, no plans survive the battlefield. The three of us will probably have to do quite the bit of lifting before this is done.”

Neither of them seemed at all bothered by the prospect.

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That night, Kite and his group sat around a well-shielded heat lamp in a small cave. Outside, the forests rustled, their red and orange canopies barely visible in the dark of night. While Grim, Walker and Serene would be the ones keeping watch during the night, Kite was still a bit too antsy to sleep. The feeling was still vague, like an unseen thread held taut. He knew that the thread was important, but not whether he wanted it to break or hold.

On the other hand, Will and Dragonfly had each fallen straight to sleep in their bedrolls. Kite couldn’t help but smile at the mass of pink locks that was the only visible sign of his friend and lover, and part of him wanted to just snuggle up against her. “Later, after this is over.” he told himself, snapping out of his mind as the silhouette of uncle Walker passed through their alarm and stealth formations.

“I have confirmed what locations I could and relayed it to the other groups of the scout platoon. This far in, the majority of the enemy outposts seem unchanged, if more vigilant. We will strike at dawn, as planned.” he told those still awake.

Before his inner eye, Kite imagined other hidden camps like theirs as the rest of the groups making up the scout platoon rested not far away. The larger group had continued westward almost immediately after arriving at the base camp, only picking up tools and provisions. Spirit coins made part of logistics very simple, but that was not the only thing needed for a group of adventurers to remain in the field.

In an attempt to settle his mind, Kite fell into meditation, visualizing his path before him as he started weaving aspects of his companions into the image. The path was now faintly lit by glowing dragonflies made of flames, and proud spears with glorious pennants rose from the ground here and there like waypoints of a lost traveler. And through it all, a gentle breeze brought a hummed calming melody.

The imagery brought him calm as he steeled himself for the violence that was to come. He imagined that tomorrow would be the opening shot of the greatest tribulation of his life so far.

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As all other days, just as summer was teetering on the edge of autumn, another dawn rose. And with it, as the gold, red and orange foliage was lit up like a sea of flame, the Autumn lands knew conflict.

Spearheading the assault on those of the deviant paths was the sects, for while many of the adventure society’s frustrations with the organizations was well earned, there was a reason that they still remained a dominant factor in the political landscape of Hua-Xi. Their warriors, essence-users one and all, were both numerous and mostly well trained. After all, the sects were as much schools of combat as they were political entities.

In the northern parts of this theater of conflict, the warriors of the Victorious Sunset sect began the assault of their target locations, hidden lairs and cave systems which had let their enemies remain concealed for too long. Like the red and gold colors cast by the sunset, their assault aimed to bring light to that very darkness and purge all the foul deviants within. Their teachings were those of the purity of light and the flames of the sun, the sun of their glory only descending into dusk after victory was claimed.

In the southern parts, their allies and longtime rivals of the Descending Star sect struck swiftly, flowing around and into their target locations to bring death through precise, overwhelming violence. Theirs was the way of the night, teaching how to set up their opponents for annihilation by a swift strike, like a star suddenly descending from the heavens.

But their enemies proved to be neither few nor helpless as they rose from their hidden places to meet the allied assault. Undead monsters, created and preserved by the followers of the god Undeath were released from their confinements, a surprising majority being different kinds of spiritual undead along with the zombies and corpse-monstrosities often associated with the dark arts.

In other locations, frenzied warriors powered by the ecstasy taken from the bodies of their victims charged into battle, blitzing their foes under the influence of berserking powers. The path of pleasure did not give. It took.

The cultists and practitioners of the blood arts sent by the red table enacted fell summoning rituals and insidious traps powered by vile sacrifice, while the followers of the path of lies deceived and misled, conjuring illusions and ambushing isolated adventurers.

And the adherents of the path of pain struck, strangling and attempting to dominate their opponents in both body and spirit as their powers ensnared and pain attempted to fracture any thoughts of resistance.

It was madness and clarity of purpose, honor and the foulest deeds, all mashed up in conflict as discord reigned in the lands west of Gilded.

In this madness, the adventure society did their best to shore up the sects’ advance. Acting mostly as a rapid response, the unaffiliated adventurers either struck at key targets of their own or stepped in as a more flexible reserve to cover retreats or support an assault.

And out toward the west, slightly distanced from the areas where the fighting was heaviest, the scout platoon of the adventure society was disrupting enemy reserves, the first blow to land having been theirs as the rays of dawn had barely crested the horizon.

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“Ward!” Kite snapped as another javelin seemingly made of roiling blood shot toward Serene, a barrier interposing itself to absorb the iron-ranked projectile as it splattered onto the ground and trees around it, leaving sizzling stains. His foe, a leonid woman with a rust-colored fur Kite suspected wasn’t entirely natural, apparently had a sharp enough nose to more easily focus on their healer in the chaotic battle that had ensued as their group struck against a hidden encampment deep in the forest.

While the encampment hadn’t been on high alert due to their relative distance from the main battles, they had still kept a nasty surprise in store for any attackers. As the group had initiated their assault and the alarm went up, several summoning circles at the camp’s center had been activated to manifest shrieking little humanoid monsters with scarlet skin and covered in sharp spikes who had charged Kite and his group after they had already closed in melee.

The small monsters were iron rank and not individually powerful, but their numbers and timely summoning made up for it as Grim had to dedicate a lot of his attention to pure crowd control, despite this area spells being a lot more deadly than restraining. The elven man strode through battle with his usual composure, spells creating what at first glance seemed like a whirling flurry of snowfall glittering in the faint light of the dawn. Upon further inspection, one would see that the glittering motes weren’t snow at all, but rather shards of magical glass whose gleaming surfaces were soon stained red with blood.

This did mean that it fell to Kite and his friends to contend with the cultists as uncle Walker had intercepted the only bronze-ranked dark practitioner at the center of the camp, his leaf blade clashing with a spear seemingly made of red, glowing lines drawn in the air.

The leonid who had harried Serene was forced to shift focus as Kite got up close and personal, and instead jabbed with her javelin against him in what looked to be the beginning of a rapid-fire special attack. However, the flurry never came to be as her weapon was dissolved by an interposed gauntlet channeling Pattern-shattering counter while his bone spear appeared in his other hand, partially tearing through her side as the void covering it further rent her flesh.

To Kite’s consternation, his opponent didn’t seem as hampered as most iron-rankers would be by such an injury, her flesh already reknitting and her speed and strength seemed to increase. Through his magical perception, he could see that it was not only his imagination as she seemed to stack up additional strength, speed and regeneration as creatures were killed in her vicinity. Grim currently tearing through their summons like one might scatter the fluff from a dandelion actually helped Kite’s opponent quite a lot in this regard. They exchanged a few more blows as she produced a jagged scimitar from a spatial bag, the woman seemingly getting an advantage over Kite as he fought more defensively in the face of her rising power.

Unfortunately for her, Kite was biding his time and as she seemed to have saturated her boon of slaughter, she started attacking him with more ferocious abandon as she counted on overwhelming him with her increased attributes. With a forceful swing of her scimitar, Kite let her send his spear flying from his grip as the leonid’s eyes gleamed with predatory triumph, only for that triumph to be forcibly extinguished as Kite’s staff appeared in his hands, its single ring chiming surprisingly gently as the head connected with her other arm.

Twin, sequencing pulses of disruptive, mana-draining power flowed through her as her accumulated boon winked out, a small amount of transcendent damage adding insult to injury as the echoing dispelling strike never took proper effect even while her arm broke with an audible snap. Unbalanced by her sudden loss of both speed and strength, Kite changed the pace of the fight as he fell into a more aggressive stance. Two more swings of the staff battered his foe and a quick follow-up swing with his greatsword forced the cultist to leap backward as she began chanting a spell. A spell she never got to finish.

Taking advantage of her airborne state, Kite once more brought forth his spear which had been restored to his dimensional storage through the attached talisman, and activated his belt for a powerful charging lunge. His guess that his foe lacked powers to change her airborne trajectory paid off, and his wicked weapon cracked through her ribs and into her chest before erupting in spatial tears which shredded her insides to ribbons. As her iron rank meant that she still had plenty of very important internal organs, she lived for only a few moments longer as her corpse slumped to the ground.

In his mind, Kite once more noted that the very attack he had finished her with still remained his most gruesome attack when used against other iron-rankers as their bodies had a hard time withstanding the destructive void appearing inside them. It was a stark reminder that his path, while surprisingly apt at taking foes alive, would still leave a bloody trail through this world.

Throughout his duel, Kite had still pulsed his activated all-round vision to keep stock of the situation. Both Dragonfly and Will seemed to have their battles in hand, although Kite still sent a throwing star flying into Will’s opponent to disrupt a conjured blood armor with some kind of clotting ability which his spears had a tougher time to chew through. Of all the members of their group, it was uncle Walker who seemed the most beleaguered as his opponent seemed to be a skilled duelist, forcing the scout onto a defensive footing.

Making a judgment that the best way to help his uncle with the bronze-ranker would be to free up their own other bronze-ranker rather than try to wade in himself.

“I can hold them. Assist Walker!” he shouted to Grim as he gifted additional gathered power to his familiar, Sage. Just from this first battle, Kite had recognized the potential of the astral gatherer as there was a lot more mana and abilities going around when both sides consisted of several essence-users, and Sage was metaphorically bursting with stored power. As Kite gifted him the charges of his own power, his familiar sent the scattered motes of blue light to cover the area with the constantly summoned red little devil-monsters and the circles which brought them into being. The resulting chain reaction did a good job of taking down a goodly amount of the monsters.

Grim apparently found the performance satisfactory, and instead started launching highly accurate needles of glass as long as a forearm towards uncle Walker’s opponent. As his field of fire was now clear from friendly combatants, Kite unleashed a dispelling wave to remove yet another wave of summons from existence and curtail the flow a bit longer. Serene followed this up with a mighty hurricane to push back the next wave and keep them under control, their concerted efforts keeping the small tide at bay for a precious dozen of seconds.

Those very seconds proved critical as Grim’s support let uncle Walker take advantage of a momentary lack of balance in his foe, suddenly melting into a nearby bush as all of his conjured plants suddenly struck out and entwined his opponent. Appearing from the foliage above, Walker descended along with a storm of shed leaves-turned-projectiles, blade and leaf cutting deep as four glass needles struck simultaneously, the cultist leader’s life ending in a bloody retributive explosion of boiling blood.

Kite didn’t see how his uncle fared as he was currently too busy using his conjured walls to concentrate the flow of summoned enemies to a defensible point, but myriads of claws and spikes were already fast breaking down the walls of force, uncaring of the afflictions and mana-drain this beset them with. Just as he was worried that he might have to retreat and release the press, Grim returned his attention to the now quite bunched up small horde of monsters. The glass storm reaped a bloody tally as the sacrificial energy which had powered the summoning circles was finally spent, and the fight ended soon after that as the final cultist fell.

Uncle Walker rejoined them in the center of the battle-ravaged camp, severely scalded by the final gift of his opponent but quickly recovering through his peak bronze-rank recovery attribute, Serene’s healing and an ability of his own which produced magical berries he could eat to restore himself as well.

As the fight had ended, the gruesome nature of the encampment came more fully into focus, etching the remnants of horrid blood sacrifice into the minds of the adventurers. There were no prisoners to save nor heroics to be had as all had seemingly been used as fuel for the surprisingly powerful summoning rituals. This left the group feeling rather hollow, dampening the triumph they had earned.

Uncle Walker looked at them each and gave them an encouraging nod and a small smile. “While part of me is pained that you had to see this, another is proud of you for caring. But we will need to move on to the next target, after which we will start sweeping the surroundings for any retreating enemy forces. This was only the beginning.”

And so they moved on, the first blow having been struck in the small war which had been ignited by dawn’s golden rays, as blood watered the trees of the Autumn lands.