Even as he exchanged words with the students of the Descending Star sect, Kite knew that the situation he was in could prove to be very, very dangerous. He did not regret saying his piece, especially as it was obvious from the very beginning that this would come down to a fight of some sort. And even though the most pragmatic option might have been to let them beat him up, Kite was not about to leave himself at the dubious mercy of the kind of people who had arranged this only to realize that they meant to kill him all along when he was already beaten.
The conversation had also made Kite connect a small detail that he had overlooked before. The functionary who gave him the task had been unwilling to meet Kite’s eyes. He had assumed that it was due to stress and distraction, but now knew that it was not the case. As forcibly reading someone’s aura was quite rude, he had not done that either, thus getting little clue that he would land in this predicament.
Kite did thank Fortune that he had been wearing his armor due to the more physical tasks he had undertaken earlier, and as their conversation came to its inevitable conclusion, he had tried to at least get a good look at the others through his perception power. As they were initiates, this generally meant that the other three iron-rankers had not awakened all of their essence abilities yet, or been demoted. If they had been sent on this expedition, they probably weren’t entirely without experience, but Kite knew too little of the political landscape of their sect to guess more.
A vague plan started forming in Kite’s mind, but it was all resting on his capabilities to adapt and make the right calls in what would inevitably become a chaotic mess as well as that the bronze-ranker would stay a passive observer, only guarding the door. He said a silent prayer to Fortune and Warrior as the final words were uttered.
“Don’t go begging for mercy, outcast, as it is you who are courting death!”
Four auras clamped down on him as they all sprang into motion, Kite realizing to his relief that his evolved racial gift and training with Serene allowed him to hold firm, although unable to push back. This meant that his eroding aura would continually wear at their magical effects, be they special attack, boon, spell or affliction. And since coming back from the final battle, do even more.
WWJS:
Congratulations!
Your ability [Discarnate Erosion] has reached Bronze 0.
[Discarnate Erosion] has received additional effects.
Discarnate Erosion
Special ability, aura. Cost: None Cooldown: None Current rank: Bronze 0
Effect - Iron: All hostile magical effects affected by your aura start to erode, reducing the duration of ongoing effects and lessening the impact of spells and special attacks within the area. Effect increases the longer the hostile effect remains inside the aura.
Effect - Bronze: Increases the casting times of hostile spells within the aura.
Evolving when the group had returned from the final active war contract, his aura was now even more of a nuisance to his foes, one he hoped would increase his chances of survival. Early trials with his companions had indicated that it now took about a fifth again longer to cast a spell as the aura actively broke down the coalescing magic, and would only increase as Kite’s power did.
While disciple Mist initiated with the expected pale bolts of magical energy, his companions employed different powers. One conjured a long, single-edged greatsword looking like a stylized claw of some epic beast, rushing toward Kite in an offensive charge. Another initiate conjured a whip of steel threads, her pace more measured as she advanced while the final one fell into some kind of spellcasting.
Kite’s immediate response was not to attack, but to change up the battlefield.
“Wall!”
All around the warehouse, segments of force walls appeared, stretching from the floor up to the roofs. They created an irregular pattern, not as solid corridors but rather an uneven patchwork which allowed individuals to move about but made it very hard to line up ranged attacks or move in a straight line. And since a few days back, the collective area of the force walls had significantly increased.
WWJS:
Congratulations!
Your ability [Leyline Warding] has reached Bronze 0.
[Leyline Warding] has received additional effects.
Leyline Warding
Spell. Cost: Moderate mana Cooldown: 30s Current rank: Bronze 0
Effect - Iron: Create a solid, translucent barrier anchored to a surface. The barrier can be up to 3 meters in height and up to 10 meters long. The length can be split among multiple barriers. Only one casting of this spell can be active at a time. Strength of barrier increases with the [Power] attribute
Effect - Bronze: Barriers no longer need to be anchored to a surface. Height increases to up to 5 meters and total length up to 30 meters
The sudden appearance of the multiple walls of force halted the sect offensive slightly, as both the pale bolt of light from disciple Mist and the channeled beams from a pair of conjured eyes, courtesy of the spellcaster, were caught in the obstacles. The whip-wielder was not hindered much as she started to weave through the suddenly complex environment, while the charging initiate with the greatsword did an excellent reenactment of Dragonfly by charging straight into the obstacle. The pane of force cracked from the collision and left the initiate in a stunned heap, unfortunately too far away for Kite to immediately capitalize on the mistake. What was more worrying was that both the ranged attackers seemed to deal disrupting force damage with their attacks shown so far, cracks swiftly appearing as the barriers were broken through.
But Kite did not remain idle either, already moving towards his first target even while disciple Mist was shouting for his initiates to corner Kite. It was the steel whip which reached him first, its flexible length snaking through the obstacles with supernatural grace and control in an attempt to strike at Kite while augmented by the power of some kind of cutting special attack. The weapon scored deep gouges in the floor as Kite sidestepped the first two strikes before the third, which was aiming for his throat, vanished in shards of dissolving mana to his Pattern-shattering counter.
As he had seen two of his opponents conjure their weapons, Kite had felt his chances rising ever so slightly. If they did not carry physical spare weapons, fighting him would be very costly in terms of mana. Many did carry such spares, but they were rarely of the same quality as the conjured ones.
Blocking two luminescent bolts from the disciple, using the conjured barrier of Heaven-and-Void Warding, Kite had now closed the distance with the whip-wielder even as the swordsman was getting back to his feet. The initiate conjured a new whip even as a cascade of metal threads shot from her palm in an attempt to keep Kite at a distance.
Recasting his barrier into a wider disc, Kite activated the charging power of his belt to quickly close the distance even as the threads bounded off his shield. Her whip had already snaked out to entangle his legs, but even while it started cutting through his stone armor and scored light wounds on his shins, Implacable motion made sure that it did not manage to get purchase enough to trip him. Even as she seemed to prepare another special attack, her eyes widened as Kite let his momentum carry him straight into her, using his armored bulk and momentum to drive her into the force wall at her back.
The close proximity negated her reach and left her frantically fending off Kite, and while her conjured whip managed some more grazing hits due to its almost sentient movements, there was not enough leverage for proper strikes. In his expanded vision, he could see the his other assailants trying to get in position to attack as disciple Mist was moving about to find another trajectory to cast his pale beams while the initiate with the channeled spell seemed content to just drill her way through the intervening barriers one at a time to reach her target.
Seeing that the swordsman was drawing closer, Kite prepared himself even while grappling with the whip-wielder still pressed against the wall. Dispelling her whip once more through an unarmed strike against the length of conjured metal, he ducked out of the way of a raised hand to narrowly avoid another stream of sharp-metal wires even as his own clenched fist aimed a punch at her face.
As his foe threw her other hand up to intercept, Kite proved that his words about not holding back held truth. Appearing from his void sheath, his katar manifested in his closed fist, piercing through her interposed palm. Screaming with pain, she lost focus for just a moment which allowed Kite to drive her hand back into the barrier wall which her back was already pressed up against . Her scream became a wheezing gasp as he activated the weapons enchantments, causing a conical blast of resonating force bursting out from the blade and leaving her hand a ragged stump, splattering them both with blood and tissue.
“You bastard!” came a shout from his side, the swordsman finally arriving to see his fellow initiate’s hand sundered in such a gruesome way. Kite had tracked his movements even as he was up close with the whip-wielder, and as the initiate charged once more while swinging his blade in a downward blow, he let his katar disappear while grabbing the stunned woman in front of him and sending her stumbling into the swordsman’s way in the semi-cramped confinement between the force walls.
With a curse, the swordsman tried halting his momentum while dismissing his summoned blade as he was unable to stop the downward swing and the temporary corridor was not wide enough to properly redirect it. To his credit, he did manage to wrap his arms around the stumbling woman and turn their fall into some kind of semi-controlled roll. Kite continued to attack, but his spear-thrust was turned aside as the swordsman conjured a defensive barrier of conjured terracotta statues who raised their shields in protection of the pair.
Unfortunately, this happened simultaneously as disciple Mist, still insisting on keeping his distance, managed to line up a new angle of attack, sending a barrage of pale bolts Kite’s way. While most were blocked on another conjured barrier, Kite still felt the painful sting as a few got through his defense. While his armor took the brunt of it, he still suffered more superficial wounds across his arms and thighs.
Instead of staying put and pressing the attack, Kite stepped sideways to escape the line of fire, his mind going back to one of his lessons with mistress Dew.
“When facing multiple opponents alone, remember that the relentlessness of winter can be emulated on different scales. If outnumbered without a way to flee, staying in motion, complicating the environment and taking every opportunity to threaten your opponent will be a better way to use the concepts behind this style, rather than staying locked to one opponent and becoming surrounded. With your power set and endurance, this should be a valid tactic for you to practice.” his mentor’s teachings echoed in his mind as he continued to move back and forth between the rows of barriers while sending his throwing star mixed up with his other ranged strikes to keep disciple Mist on his toes.
Moving away from the defensive perimeter of the swordsman, he once more took stock, seeing that another opportunity might soon be upon him. While many still remained, a considerable amount of barriers had been punched through by the initiate with the channeled beam of disruptive force, only a pair of barriers remaining between Kite and her as she was systematically reducing his cover.
Outwardly keeping up his focus on the elusive disciple Mist and continuing to exchange ranged attacks, Kite’s main focus remained on the beam as it chewed through the next to last barrier and started on the final one, cracks spreading quickly. If he timed it right, it should…
As the final barrier cracked, Kite’s combat staff was already in full swing in a two handed upwards strike as he pivoted on the spot. The channeled beam which had now started chewing through his armor, suddenly winked out as his powerful swing overcame the distance and struck the caster in the stomach just as she had started to cast another spell, the ripple in the air bringing rending spatial tears of Void-Sunders-Firmament to further increase the damage. She left a scattered trail of blood as she was lifted from her feet by the blow, Kite further hardening his heart for what was to come.
Because as he struck, the living cluster of symbols at his back named Sage had already floated out from behind him. Before the casting initiate’s momentum had been spent, allowing the pull of the earth to start carrying her downward again, she was hit by a white beam of resonating force which blasted a fist-sized hole through her chest. As Sage had quickly been fully charged from all the spells and abilities unleashed, the unleashed beam resonating force easily chewed through flesh, bones and organs.
“Sparrow! No!” Disciple Mist shouted, ceasing his attempts at attack to rush to the fallen woman. Meanwhile, the swordsman, having finished giving his companion a healing pill and making sure she was stable, came rushing at Kite with a wordless roar. Kite retreated a bit further in between the few force walls that were still left intact, and was still almost caught by surprise as the man flung his conjured greatsword at Kite, the heavy blade spinning end over end as it closed the distance.
As Kite flicked his staff and dispelled it with a touch, he realized too late that his enemy had adapted at least a little to his strategies, as the man produced another, simpler but equally heavy sword from a dimensional pouch while continuing his charge even as Kite’s guard was now open and his dispelling counter was unavailable.
“Die, scum!” the young man shouted, his blade emitting a heavy pressure which Kite recognized as Unstoppable force, one of the most common but devastating special attacks often awakened by the might essence.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Ward!”
Even as the barrier appeared, Kite released the grip on his staff and was about to bring out his greatsword to interpose in the hope that the small, well-timed barrier would halt the blow for long enough. Unfortunately, those hopes were dashed as even Kite’s concentrated barrier couldn’t entirely negate such a strike. He had only managed to partially interpose his own weapon as the small disc of force cracked, his sword being ripped from his hands by the remaining force of the powerful attack. The intervention did manage to shift the incoming weapon enough so that it impacted Kite’s shoulder before tearing through his stone armor and scoring a deep cut down along the left side of Kite’s torso.
While Kite was almost blinded by the pain for a short instant, it was still a lot better than being almost bisected, and unlike what his opponent might have expected, Kite was not flung back or down to the ground by the force as the floor beneath him within a few meters cracked when the momentum was forced down instead.
This meant that Kite, fighting through the pain while remaining close enough to sidestep his opponent's blade now partially lodged in the ground below, was able to close the short distance between them before his opponent could recover his weapon. An uppercut thrust of his katar, the weapon covered in tearing void, had the armor-piercing weapon puncture the swordsman’s breastplate with surprising ease. His foe screamed with pain as the chaotic spatial tears started damaging his insides, activating a power which quickly turned his body to what looked like hardened clay. Unfortunately for him, this helped little against the burst of resonating force Kite released from his blade while already lodged in his opponent’s torso. A cascade of blood erupted from the young man’s mouth before he fell limply to the ground as Kite shoved him to the side.
While staggering upright, Kite’s expanded line of sight showed him the two other assailants both staring in mute horror at their companion’s fate. The woman with the whip still knelt on the floor, cradling her ruined hand even if the bleeding had been stopped by the healing pill while disciple Mist knelt next to the limp form of the spellcaster.
“You… you beast! Murderer!” disciple Mist shrieked as he regained his feet. “How dare you? How DARE you?! Inner disciple, please punish this wretch. It should be obvious to everyone that he is but a rabid animal that needs to be put down!” The final words were aimed at the bronze-ranker at the door who had remained an observer until now, although Kite was admittedly surprised that had been the case for so long.
Tensing, his focus also turned to what might be his demise. “Maybe I can make a break for it if he enters the fray.” Kite though, mind flickering through different escape scenarios while muddled by pain. “Perhaps the-”
“I’m afraid that the inner disciple will not deign to interfere in the quarrels of those beneath him. Isn’t that right, inner disciple Soar?”
The speaker was yet unseen, even as her voice rang out through the room. But she was soon revealed as two other figures appeared as their cloaking powers lifted, a man and a woman both wearing the robes of the Victorious Sunset sect and each emitting a strong bronze-ranked aura. The man stood closely behind Soar, the tense posture of the inner disciple indicating that he was held captive through some unseen means.
The woman stood beside Soar, leaning casually against his shoulder while a hand sporting sharp, golden claws rested precariously close to his neck where a simple suppression collar could be seen. She was human, the fair skin of her face tattooed with a beautiful golden pattern, her face projecting a casual ease even in the tense situation. Both her and her comrade had a recording crystal of their own hovering above them, more complex and expensive models made to be compatible with stealth powers.
“Why- you-” disciple Mist was spluttering, as shocked as the rest of the iron rankers present as neither had sensed their presence. “This is not your- you- you shouldn’t interfere in our business. Your sect has no right to-”
“Oh, but I believe that you made it our business, disciple-” she began, emphasizing Mist’s lower rank, “- when you chose to target this particular outcast in such an underhanded way. You even said it yourself; if anything happened to him it might cast aspersions on our sect. I do hope that your actions are not a reflection of the Descending star sect in general. It would be a shame if our allies had sunk so low.” she finished, 'tsk-ing' while shaking her head in an overly dramatic gesture of disappointment.
“Then- then what will you do? Will you too sully yourself with the blood of lower-rankers?”
“Like you just asked Soar here to do, hmm?” the woman asked, smiling as Mist gritted his teeth in frustration. “But no, we will let you juniors resolve your own business, as you should have done from the beginning. Besides, I do not think that the outcast will even need it.”
“Then we shall finish this. Get yourself together, initiate Summer. He is wounded, so it should not be too much trouble to-” the disciple ordered his only remaining companion, only to falter as Kite started emitting a fierce light, his wounds closing within seconds.
“You know the saying, disciple. Don’t go prod a tiger only to cry when it bares its fangs.” the tattooed woman chuckled as the outcast was once more in more or less pristine condition. Even his armor restored itself by absorbing materials from the stone floor.
Kite turned to her and met her gaze, seeing only amusement dance in her eyes. He nodded once, then turned back to the remaining iron-rankers that opposed him.
“Cease this, collect your fallen and leave.” Kite stated, voice steadying after the surging power of Immortality had restored him. “This was unnecessary from the very beginning, and continuing it saves you neither face nor honor.”
For a while, it looked like the disciple was actually weighing his options. Kite hoped that rationality would win out, and for a while it looked like it was close. But then Mist looked down at the fallen woman next to him, the one named Sparrow. And when he looked back, Kite saw only prideful fury tinged by grief. It did not take a genius observer to realize that there might have been something more there.
“For the honor of my sect and the solace of her family, I will see you dead, outcast scum. The heavens will empower me. This transgression will not stand!” the young elven man shouted as he leapt to his feet, mist appearing beneath them as he initiated his air-walking power.
Kite raised a barrier to deflect the onslaught of projectiles which followed, but did turn his head to look directly at the whip-wielder who still remained on her knees. As he met her gaze, she just gave him a quick, faint shake of her head before her gaze dropped to the ground. Redirecting his focus to the initiate who was gaining a bit of altitude, Kite dismissed what walls of force that remained and recast the spell.
“Wall.”
This time, he employed another tactic now possible thanks to the evolution of the spell, conjuring what essentially became a lower ceiling covering most of the small warehouse. This meant that disciple Mist could not climb higher than about a meter and a half over the ground unless he spent time clearing out the barriers. Time that Kite did not mean to give him.
“I don’t need vantage to defeat you, you scum. I know your underhanded tricks now!” the disciple shouted as he dodged the first ranged strike Kite made with his spear, sensing the intent at the last moment now that he knew what to look for. He answered with a barrage of his pale bolts, every once in a while empowering one to become a more powerful beam.
Kite blocked them on an expanded barrier, channeling mana into it to reinforce it as he closed the distance with the disciple. Choosing an enclosed building had backfired on the elf, as his powers of movement and evasion gave him much less of an advantage. But as he was not taken by surprise this time around, he did get the chance to employ more spells than during their clash.
“Mists of early dawn!”
A bank of mist exploded out from the middle of the room, vastly decreasing Kite’s visibility. From the stream of projectiles which continued to assail him, it apparently did not impair the disciple. Following the stream of attacks to its source, Kite arrived only for his swung spear to hit a silhouette of thicker mists, the disciple apparently having left it as a distraction through which he could channel his spells.
“Witness the true power of my path, trash!” came a mocking voice from another direction as more attacks started raining in. While annoying, Kite did remain collected due to two factors. The first was his aura, as he could see patches of mist visibly eroding in the effect, hastening the dispersal of the fog bank. And his second were the twin mana-draining vortices which had locked on to his target, apparently remaining so for as long as disciple Mist stayed within range.
So Kite went on the defensive, moving around and deflecting what he could. Unfortunately, counterattacking was hard as striking through his intent required him to actually see the target. This forced him to wait for a dozen seconds, then another before he finally caught a glimpse of his foe through a part where the mist coverage had become patchy. But instead of turning towards it, Kite employed some deception of his own, turning into another direction as if swinging his staff toward a space where the disciple definitely was not.
As the disciple recognized the feint too late, Kite heard a satisfying sound of impact as the echoed mana draining and dispelling effects hit the elf along with the physical force. While he had yet to practice it much, his evolved racial gift allowed him to project his strike to a point he could clearly perceive which had no solid obstacles in between. And Kite, using his perception power, could see everything around him. The feint had allowed him to surprise his enemy this time around, and with some practice, he did not doubt that its usefulness would only increase.
Charging in the direction of his foe, Kite arrived just as the disciple sprang from the ground while still looking a bit winded. As Kite’s staff echoed the effect of the attacks as well as part of the damage, both the active effects on the elf had winked out causing him to fall to the ground.
As Kite’s greatsword descended toward him, the disciple turned into a cloud of fog, flowing around the attack. At first, it tried moving toward one of the window slits above, only to be unable to penetrate the horizontal panes of force above. Denied the escape attempt, disciple Mist had to make do with escaping to the other side of the room, chanting even as he reformed from the vaporous state.
“Mists of early dawn!”
Mist once more filled the room, followed by the angry voice of his enemy.
“Did you think surviving one round of my glorious haze would leave you safe? How many more can you weather, outca-”
“Dissolve the patterns of power!”
It was as if an unseen and unfelt wind came and whisked the mist away, along with most of the barriers covering the ceiling. And just as the final dregs of vapor vanished, Kite was upon his enemy, the charging power of his belt having recharged to carry him to his foe with great speed. And even before he reached his foe, Kite cast his spell for the third time during this confrontation.
“Wall!”
And this time, he created neither a maze nor a ceiling. He created a cage, and disciple mist was stuck inside with him. The cube he created around them was around four meters to a side, big enough to swing with ease but small enough that there would be no escape.
“I should have done this right away.” a part of Kite’s mind idly mused as he swung at the elf, his foe dodging quickly enough to turn the blow to a glancing one. Kite’s void tears still shredded part of his robes and created lacerations across his thigh. Changing to his spear, Kite let a hastily aimed magical bolt glance off his stone armor, crumbling some of the obsidian outer layer even as he began a flurry of jabs and thrusts, his skill with the weapon having improved after his many sparring sessions with Will.
The bone spear glanced off his opponents ribcage, narrowly missed his throat and finally bit deep into his opponents left bicep. While each jab ever so slightly slowed his opponent down, Kite had been looking for a chance to use its gruesome enchantment in hope to finally finish the battle. Paying the high mana cost, Kite felt a pulse of warping energies surging from the tip. And a moment later, the disciples upper arm seemed to expand outward as the bones warped into a jagged clump of thorns and torn muscles.
Kite knew that pain since his first encounter with the effigy and its guardian so long ago, and the disciple seemed to share his sentiment as he screamed in agony. Not about to let him regain his focus, Kite relentlessly continued his offensive.
An armored knee threw the elf against the force wall behind him, a gauntleted fist followed, colliding with his cheek and throwing his head to the ground with a cracking sound even as the obsidian outer layer tore at his foe’s skin. As he continued delivering what was essentially a beatdown, the ranged skirmisher seeming to have neglected his hand-to-hand training, Kite’s instincts sometimes told him to bring out a weapon to pierce, slice or crush, or just to allow Sage to finish the elf.
But even as the hard, flinty part within Kite had emerged, it was not the insensate fury from before. The disciple was just one more of young, haughty and prideful warriors he had met during his time as an adventurer. Kite knew that many would say that he didn’t deserve much mercy, and a small part of Kite didn’t think so either. But the greater part of him did.
Not that the disciple in particular felt deserving of it, but rather what it would turn him into. He had little doubt that he had killed two of his foes before, as he had killed during the war. Kite doubted that he had the skills to face four opponents and still hold back. But now, his opponent at his mercy, he could. For himself and who he wanted to be, and for his future. This fight would no doubt bring consequences, and killing the disciple out of hand would just make them worse.
But the man had also sought Kite out, laying a trap where a straight up duel had failed and spouted the thinnest of pretenses to justify his actions when all he really suffered from was a slight loss of resources and a bruised pride. Because of this, Kite wouldn’t let him off easy, either.
When the force walls dropped, the broken form of disciple Mist crumpled to the ground, alive but severely starved of both health and mana. Kite looked to the only conscious initiate, indicating with his head that she was free to tend to him. As she scrambled over to give him a healing pill, Kite strode cautiously toward the trio of bronze-rankers by the door.
“Well, outcast, it is at least good to see that it wasn’t a complete slouch who put our sect’s reputation on the line.” the woman said, a genuine smile on her face as she regarded him. “If you were ever in the market for some actual backing, I am quite sure you would be welcomed with open arms.”
“While the offer is kind, I regret to inform you that I aim to remain unattached for the foreseeable future.” Kite said, tone neutral and polite towards these unknown factors, knowing they could well decide to turn on him.
“So we’ve gathered, but it never hurts to offer.”
“It’s not like you have been falling over yourself before this.” Kite thought, but kept it to himself. “If I may ask, why did you come here? And how did you know?”
She regarded him for a while before answering. “Let’s just say that there are people in power who would be quite concerned if something happened to you which could be laid at our feet. So this time, it felt appropriate to step in. But do not expect it to happen again, outcast. We do have other things to do rather than follow you around.” she said with a knowing smile.
“Then I thank you for your assistance, and will strive to sever our karma when the opportunity arises.” Kite said, with a polite bow.
“You do that, Kite flown in on Winds of Fortune.” she answered, still smiling as her colleague opened the warehouse door. “But I wouldn’t consider it too out of balance. We did have our own vested interest in this outcome, after all. But should you get the chance, I would consider looking after my younger brother if you meet him. I would be curious to hear how turning outcast has gone for him and his path.”
His mind processed her words for a few seconds before he spoke, realization dawning. “You’re from the Providence family?”
The woman gave him a knowing smile. “It is time to go, outcast. We’ll just make sure no unpleasantness awaits outside, then we’ll be off.” she said, ignoring his half-question, half-statement.
“Oh, and Soar, you surely won’t mind if we give this to Kite?” she finished, snatching his recording crystal out of the air before tossing it to Kite. “Our young outcast here deserves some kind of memorabilia for his performance. Now, I do believe that some of your juniors require your assistance over there. It seems to be a most acute case of stupidity.”
At her words, her companions shoved inner disciple Soar into the warehouse, the suppressed man still easily keeping his balance while staring, murder in his eyes, at the two bronze-rankers before the woman threw the sliding door closed with a screeching of rails followed by a loud crash.
“Then I believe that our ways part here, outcast. I’d suggest trying to stay out of further trouble.”
And with that, the two walked away, turning a corner around another stone structure and disappearing, both out of sight and from Kite’s aura senses. He was left standing there in the afternoon sun, covered in splatters of blood both his own and from his foes. Thinking it prudent to leave as quickly as possible, Kite took off back towards the central pillar, the recording crystal clutched in one gauntleted hand.
He had some cleaning up to do, and suddenly many, many things to consider.