It would have been easy for the Gryphon to defeat the Painter in a Clash of Realms.
Adam had relentlessly refined his Realm from the size of a city down to a small, compact area barely large enough to cover the two of them. Despite that, Eric's Talent was still of a much higher rank.
It should have been easy for the Gryphon to defeat the Painter in a Clash of Realms.
But even the easiest of tasks could become insurmountable mountains before the giant known as inaction. Eric's issues began and ended with simple procrastination. Rather than call upon his Genius Realm, the Hangman chose to gape in open-mouthed disbelief at his old friend, prioritizing his disbelief over his safety.
'Adam, you just...you just killed your own city!' Eric thought. Surprise, anger, awe, jealousy, fear, disgust, shame – dozens of emotions wrestled for dominance within his soul. None emerged as the undisputed ruler, and in that war that raged within him, it was the stillness of the night that ruled the empty throne of his body.
All the Hangman could do was think of the words he felt too stunned to utter. 'Thousands of people are going to die...just so you have a chance to kill me? That's...'
Adam could hear his outrage loud and clear. The Third Pillar of Realms, Divine Knowledge, granted him full awareness of Eric's every thought as long both of them were inside the Painter's Realm.
Furthermore, Adam's thoughts were racing at a speed far faster than normal, each second nearly feeling like a full minute. He could enjoy the luxury of leisurely considering the possibilities before him.
'Eric...if you hadn't been so shocked, you could've killed me right here and now. But you never thought I had what it took to fight like this. To embrace my selfishness and feast on my greed.'
The Painter, with his Lord Realm now fully enveloping the two of them, stepped forward. 'That's exactly what I was counting on.'
Truth be told, to a degree...Eric had been right. Adam wasn't so heartless that he would doom the people of Penumbria to certain death.
But he was willing to bet their lives that Tenver could keep them safe.
"Tenver," Adam had asked, just days prior. "If I give you enough Orbs to Rank up your Archery Talent...would you be able to stand atop Penumbria's walls and shoot down the monsters approaching the city?"
Almost immediately, the Painter Lord changed his question and his tone, his voice filling with confidence. "Rather, how long could you hold them off for?"
"Ten minutes," Tenver had answered back, without hesitation. "If it's for just ten minutes, I won't let a single Stained Creature reach the inside of our city, even if you remove the Realm Walls surrounding Penumbria. I swear it – on our friendship."
"And I trust you to do just that," Adam firmly told him. 'I know I'm asking for the impossible, but...if anyone can pull it off, you can."
Adam could read the Hangman's mind now. Eric hadn't conceived of the possibility that a Lord might entrust his city's safety to a single person. Nor that Adam meant to finish the fight within a mere ten minutes, then reconstruct Penumbria's Realm before too much damage had been done.
Although his mind touched upon the truth, he elected to ignore it. 'Does he think he can use Reconstruction after killing me?' Eric thought. 'No, that would still cause too many dead innocents. He doesn't have the stomach for that.'
Even now, the Hangman couldn't remotely fathom that Adam might rely on someone else.
It was the first mistake of many.
"ADAAAAM!" Eric shouted as righteous, unearned fury took hold of him. "YOU LUNATIC! YOU'VE KILLED YOUR PEOPLE!"
Had he been capable of envisioning the Painter's plan, maybe Eric would've realized that his taunt fell short – that Adam's complete trust in Tenver rendered the threat completely ineffectual.
Instead, he allowed Adam to step closer to him.
'He's not stopping,' Eric thought, in a panic. 'He, he's really going to–!'
The Hangman's next words were more practical. His fingers swirled within the air, as if holding a paintbrush against the very wind, and he bellowed out: "GENIUS—REALM!"
Had Eric chosen to attack like this from the start, their Realm Clash would have been entirely one-sided. But while their difference in Rank was large, Adam had refined his Lord Realm into a small box, much like Aspreay had done against Valente several weeks ago.
And most of all, just as Vasco once taught Adam...when it came to constructing Realms, timing was essential.
Eric's delay had been miniscule. It amounted to little more than three short seconds.
It was still enough to make all the difference in the world.
'What—how is he—how is his Realm not breaking?' Eric screamed inside his head, his teeth clenched with fury. 'It's weaker than mine! This isn't how it's supposed to work!'
'Looks like my Realm is holding,' Adam thought. Deranged laughter exploding from his throat as he lunged at his former friend. 'GOOD!'
Fueled by panic and desperation, the Gryphon's Genius Realm rapidly expanded from within himself, and then into the outer world. A half-translucent blue sphere appeared next to him, crackling like electricity as it bounced inside the square walls of Adam's Lord Realm.
Everything paused. At first, it seemed as though the Clash had caused both Realms to freeze each other in place. That notion was dispelled a moment later when the Gryphon's face twisted in agony, multiple veins bulging over his forearms, as if trying to burst free from his body.
"YOU CAN'T BEAT ME, ADAM!" Every word the Hangman spoke dripped with a venom so strong that it paled only when compared to the pure spite burning in his screams. Although their Clash demanded more strength than the Hangman's body could muster, the curses he bellowed seemed to empower him more and more. "—NOT ONCE! NOT—EVER—!"
The blue sphere expanded unevenly, like a deformed bubble that threatened to pop any second. It shifted into a multitude of chaotic shapes, convulsing and churning, until the once-sphere now resembled a porcupine's back with bright, pulsating quills that oscillated on the edge of reality. The Genius Realm was unstable, liable to cease its own existence with any given jolt of electricity in the air.
Yet Eric grew it even further, fearlessly continuing its uncertain expansion.
Normally, a Realm Clash is similar to a pair of drunk men, each trying to headbutt the other into submission. Having started construction of his Realm too late, Eric's position in the clash was closer to trying to stop an elephant that had suddenly appeared above his head from flattening his entire body.
It wasn't merely about strength. Leverage, angle, timing – everything was set up by Adam to catch the Hangman off-guard. Even the world's strongest man would have had trouble catching a forty-five pound dumbbell midair, after all.
'Three seconds,' Adam thought. 'Tenver and Penumbria bought me three seconds. I can't waste this opening. Not after you sold it to them at such a steep price.'
Having given up on winning in a direct confrontation, he had aimed to shock Eric into presenting an opening. It was the best plan the Painter could have possibly executed.
However.
"—YOU THINK CHEATING IS GONNA BEAT ME?!" Eric screamed. "EVEN IF YOU SACRIFICE YOUR OWN GODDAMN CITY—" His fury empowered his Realm's Construction. "—I CAN STILL KILL YOU—!"
Despite Adam's forethought...despite refining his Realm into a compact area to increase its strength...despite his advantage in timing...
Eric's Talent was still of a much higher Rank.
No, even more than that – it was the man's genius that was the problem. Deep inside, Eric held an unwavering belief that he could climb over any wall before him, and his very soul itself backed up his faith. Although he'd never experienced a Realm Clash before, nor been instructed on how to win one, his racing brilliance swiftly landed on the correct choice.
'My Genius Realm is like a sphere,' the Gryphon thought, eyes wide in concentration. 'Adam's Lord Realm is a series of Walls. If I can manage to alter my technique's shape—if I can make it so that my feet aren't even touching the ground—then I won't be subjected to his Realm's Laws at all!'
Eric Gryphon, the Empire's youngest Hangman, truly believed that he could outmuscle Adam's Realm. In spite of his poor position, the difference in their raw power was simply that great. Yet perhaps out of pride, as if wanting to prove a point, he instead decided to further handicap himself, combating Adam's Realm with technique.
And he was succeeding.
His unstable sphere ceased its chaotic expansion. It started to stabilize, floating slightly.
"Talent of Flight!" Eric called upon one of his plagiarized Talents, summoning wings onto his boots and letting him evade the ground. 'If I can get out of his range and finish constructing my Genius Realm, I'll become immune to his—"
The Painter launched himself forward with Stained Ink, powering a swing with unbridled rage as his fist connected with Eric's face. "Like hell I'm letting you finish your Realm," he hissed, through grit teeth. Before Adam could fall back down, he ruled upon the land, "Earth beneath me: construct a bridge towards this fucking plagiarist!"
The earth of the ruined city shot upwards, opting to defy gravity rather than defy Adam's order. It afforded him just enough footing that his blows could reach the Hangman, stopping just outside of the blue sphere of the Genius Realm. "Don't forget," Adam threatened. "As long as you're inside my Realm, I know your every move!"
Eric's head whipped back, his mighty wings the only thing keeping him from being forcibly punched out of his own Genius Realm. "Hey Adam, did you know? It's an open book exam—" He summoned a set of sharp blades that went straight through Adam's heart, killing the Painter instantly. "—AND YOU'RE STILL GONNA FAIL!"
Immediately after death, Adam's Realm brought him back to life. It happened so quickly that he didn't even stop his relentless barrage of punches. 'So long as I'm inside my Realm, I'm invincible,' he thought. 'And so long as you can't finish your Genius Realm, you're susceptible to my Lord Realm and its Orders.'
Both former friends looked into each other's eyes. They found no memories hidden in their shared gaze – only a simple, yet perilous path to victory.
'If I can kill him before his Genius Realm is reconstructed—'
'If I can survive until my Genius Realm is reconstructed—'
At once, both painters unleashed the worst of their violence at each other. Had it been a fair fight, the Hangman with the higher-ranked Talent would've easily come out ahead.
Adam had no intention of fighting fair.
"I command you to stop defending yourself!" he decreed. The whiplash from his Order was instantaneous. Adam's throat filled up with blood, as if an invisible hand was tightening its grips on his insides. It was similar to what Aspreay had suffered when fighting Valente.
Eric tensed, focused on defending himself from the Order. 'A Lord's Orders are no joke,' the Gryphon admitted to himself – albeit reluctantly. 'But I'll be fine if I know they're coming. My Canvas should be clean enough to resist them, given our difference in Ranks. And even if I stain my Canvas to reconstruct my Genius Realm...who cares? Once it's built, I'll be protected from his Realm anyway.'
Adam heard the Hangman's thoughts. It didn't change any of his plans. Even if Eric could currently resist the Orders, they still inflicted some degree of injury upon him. In contrast, once the Genius Realm finished constructing its new shape, Orders wouldn't affect him at all.
The only chance of victory Adam had was an unceasing, unending assault, utilizing the three Pillars of his Lord Talent to their utmost effectiveness.
With the Realm's First Pillar, he was constantly healing and resurrecting from Eric's superhuman punches. With the Realm's Second Pillar, he was predicting and dodging most of Eric's moves, reducing the amount of times he needed to heal. And with the Realm's Third Pillar, he issued whatever commands would hinder or damage the Hangman, bridging the inherent gulf in their power.
"Don't attack me!"
"Look away!"
"Punch yourself!"
"Stop!"
If not for those wasted three seconds, and if not for Adam's careful maneuvering, the Hangman would have won with room to spare. As things were now, it was anyone's guess as to who would come out on top.
Vasco said as much several days earlier when Adam asked him about his plan. "If your plan goes perfectly...it'll still be a coin toss," the man had told him, with forthright honesty. "Fifty-fifty scenario. Whoever gets luckier will reign victorious."
And as it so turned out, the one blessed by the goddess of luck on that fated day...
...was Eric, the Gryphon.
The Hangman's Genius Realm abruptly finished its reconstruction. A manic grin swept across his features as he pushed Adam to the ground, causing the Painter's back to smash against a ruined house's half-broken pillar, eliciting a wince of pain.
"I told you, Adam!" Eric's tone swelled with a note of vicious triumph. "You should know better than to try to stand on my level. Unlucky bastard. Fate, talent, whatever – you're never going to measure up!"
"Yeah," Adam confessed, through a heavy cough that sprayed his own blood. "I know you're more talented than me. You always have been."
The Gryphon's grin faded ever so slightly before reforming wider than ever, the wings on his feet trembling with excitement. As if that admission was the true victory he'd been aiming for.
'I've been waiting for you to say that.' The Hangman's Rain of Brushes materialized behind him. 'No reason to prolong this now, Adam. Time for—'
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Suddenly, Adam used his Stained Vines to propel himself forward, throwing his body at the Hangman. That much didn't surprise the Hangman. Eric had expected some futile, last-ditch attempt at survival.
He was surprised, though, when the Painter's leg passed directly through his Genius Realm.
"What?" Although Eric effortlessly dodged the kick, his voice was muttering in disbelief. "My Realm should keep people from entering it. How—"
You're too easily distracted. "Earth: appear where I point!" Adam commanded. Once more the earth shot upward, and it went through the Genius Realm as well – however slightly. A single strip of dirt, impossibly placed at an angle to touch Adam's foot after his misplaced kick had penetrated the barrier.
'Huh?' Eric thought. 'What are you—'
Adam dismissed his Lord Realm.
He allowed himself a moment to grin at the Hangman's astonishment before shouting out. "I COMMAND YOU—BREAK YOUR GENIUS REALM!"
At once, Eric's Genius Realm shattered. He was so shocked that he'd been left with no chance to respond.
No, that wasn't quite right. Even if he had tried to resist Adam's Royal Order, this one was far more powerful than before. Aspreay had explained this scenario back when Adam had attempted to use his Shadow Realm against Valente, the Dark Captain.
"It's the same principle as to why the Emperor cannot so easily pinpoint your location," Aspreay had mentioned. "The power of your Realm is a simple calculation of its size and your overall strength. At present, it is too weak to function inside the Emperor's Realm."
"Isn't the Shadow Realm really small, though?" Valente had remarked. "It only applies if he can step on my shadow."
"Weren't you listening, white-haired imbecile?" Aspreay replied, with annoyance. "It only looks small. It's still derived from the Realm he established in Penumbria. Considering the difference in Rank between him and the Emperor, building a functional Realm inside the Emperor's Realm would require much more finesse."
Valente happily nodded along. "Yes, I've got it, I see! You're saying that if Adam wanted to fight me with his Lordly Realm, he'd need to first undo the one in Penumbria?"
"That's exactly it. If he were to undo his Realm there...he could recreate it here. Make it smaller."
Aspreay tightened his grip on Adam's shoulder. "Instead of a gigantic Imperial city, if he focused everything onto a narrow street, then perhaps he would have a chance.
This time was the opposite. Adam had dismissed his Realm entirely. It didn't exist around Penumbria, or even around the two of them. The only Realm he used at all was...
"A...a Shadow Real—" Eric started to mutter, then coughed up blood, red spattering onto the front of his shirt. "How? When?"
"It's like I said it before: you're a genius, Eric," Adam frankly stated. "Much more so than me. I wish I could have unlocked some sort of hidden power during our fight, maybe beaten you with my own Genius Realm. Unfortunately, I'm no genius, really. Never have been."
His gaze sharpened. "Still...talent doesn't determine where you place in a race, you know? Just the starting line."
The Hangman inched forward, his knees threatening to buckle under the Shadow Realm's pressure. "What are you even yapping about?"
"You certainly were impressive," Adam said, clapping sarcastically. "Figuring out how to navigate a Realm Clash, despite having had zero prior instruction...that was the work of a genius, alright. However, there's some things you need an instructor for."
Images of Eric's college days flashed through Adam's mind. Eric ignoring his classes. Eric procrastinating on work. Eric laughing at Adam as the Painter studied for hours.
"Your laziness cost you, in the end."
Vasco had been quite clear about Realm Laws. Once a Realm was reconstructed, its laws would also have to be reinstituted one at a time. Eric's Genius Realm could only allow for very simple rules, yet even those needed to be declared once again.
After reconstructing his Genius Realm, Eric hadn't yet been able to create a Law that prevented anything outside it from bypassing his barrier. During that brief moment in time, Adam used his Realm to create a patch of land directly below the Hangman – right where his shadow was being cast.
Finally, Adam dismissed the rest of his Lord Realm, called upon his Shadow Realm...and stepped on Eric's shadow.
With his Realm now refined into such a small space, their difference in Rank meant nothing. Eric's body had to listen to Adam's Orders.
"I don't know what bullshit you just did, but so...so what?" Eric managed, through heavy breaths. "Even if you destroyed my Realm, I also destroyed yours! Our Canvases are far too stained, we can't call them again. And I'm still a Hangman – without Realms, you can't hang with me when it comes to pure strength!"
A spiteful smirk possessed the Gryphon. "Not to mention," he spat, "that you won't be able to reconstruct your Realm for days! You just slaughtered your own fucking people and couldn't even manage to kill me!"
Adam didn't fall for Eric's taunting. He merely cracked his neck and drew a deep breath. "Don't get it wrong, Eric. I could've killed you just now with my Realm. But you stole the Grandmaster's Corpse's Talent, and I need you alive in order to take it back. The thing is...destroying your Realm was just Round 1."
Stained Ink whirled around his body. He could also see his men armed with crossbows hiding in the ruins, waiting for their signal. "Round 2 starts now."
And as for Penumbria...they're safer than you'd know.
–
Emperor Ciro considered the chessboard ahead of him with a smirk and a thoughtful silence. He tapped his lips rhythmically, inviting Nayt to ask questions of him. Unsurprisingly, though still upsettingly, the Elven Hangman didn't say a word.
Well, that was to be expected. Even getting him to drive their carriage had necessitated an offering of extra wages; the man simply wouldn't do much of anything for free. But the blade of curiosity was sharper than the shield of laziness, and all Ciro needed was a little thrust to get the elf talking.
"It seems the Painter has destroyed the Gryphon's Genius Realm," Ciro noted. "Curious, isn't it?"
Nayt didn't shift his gaze away from the carriage's window, but the sudden stiffness in his posture betrayed his interest. "How do you know?"
"I am Emperor," Ciro knowingly replied.
The elf frowned at that, although his irritation was of no fault but his own. In truth, Ciro wasn't playing at riddles, and had rather plainly told Nayt the truth. If he doesn't understand the implication of what I'm suggesting, then that's his failing.
Nayt narrowed his eyes. "And what do you know?"
"Valente's assault on the right wing is slow, but his progress is steady. Ernanda's assault on the left wing is much faster, albeit more costly – the rebels have no counter for a Hangman's Talent, after all. The Little Painter himself...well, that is the fun part."
Ciro's eyes sparkled with excitement. "He undid the Realm around Penumbria in order to duel the Gryphon, likely expecting to be able to reform the barrier before monsters took over the city."
The elf nodded slowly. "Would it be even possible to reform the barrier from that far away?"
"It would," Ciro acknowledged. "A Lord's range isn't without limit, but creating a Realm based on size rather than precision makes the task easier. That he already held Penumbria's Walls for many months before this would also help expedite his Realm's Reconstruction."
It was simply so quaint to witness the Painter's challenge. A clever, risky plan that almost worked – how could Ciro not allow himself a smirk or two? "He's not an experienced Lord, however, and even an experienced one would stain their Canvas far too much with even a simple reconstruction. Only a freakish anomaly such as Aspreay could hope to realistically accomplish that."
Getting a read on Nayt's thoughts was quite hard. No matter what happened, the man always wore the same dispassionate, tired look, and had a penchant for thinking in elvish. This time, though, the Hangman kindly made his opinions quite clear. "How long would it take for the Pretender's Canvas to clear up?"
"A day if he sustains no further injuries." Ciro shrugged. "But that is unlikely. Even if he were to beat our Gryphon, his Canvas would end up far more stained than it currently is right now. Penumbria would be without a Realm's Walls for one week at the very least."
Nayt muttered what was presumably an elven curse. "And how long can Penumbria hold?"
"Normally I'd say that the city's physical, stone walls would protect it for about two weeks – with some light casualties. While a mass of Stained Creatures could overrun the place, they are hardly a thinking sort. It would take some time until they realized that Penumbria has become a safe hunting ground for them."
The Emperor was pleased to see that his phrasing hadn't escaped Nayt. "Normally?" the elf repeated, in a sharp voice. "What of now?"
"There are two differences from the scenario I presented. The first is my dear nephew – the Painter plans to use his Talent of Archery in combination with his Puppet arm to keep the city as safe as possible. If Tenver stands upon a high enough tower, he will have vision and opportunity to keep the beasts away with arrows as mighty as cannonballs. With his help, why, Penumbria might survive almost a month before it is fully overrun!"
"And the second difference?" Nayt insisted. "What is it?"
The Emperor chose to respond not with words, but with actions. With a flourish, he leapt to his feet and opened the carriage door, gesturing to the city outside.
This had been their destination all along. It was the reason that Ciro insisted on using Nayt's controlled beasts in order to speed up their carriage.
Before them stood the City of Penumbria.
"I am the second difference," said the Emperor, with a barely-contained sneer. He climbed atop their carriage and raised his arms as if to conduct an orchestra, laughing all the while.
Is this miserable city the one where so many insufferable traitors hail from? To hell with it. The Eastern Frontier isn't worth the trouble.
Without further thought for the thousands he was about to kill, he called upon his Talents. One used his closed eyes to sense the Stained Creatures nearby...and the other used his open hands to twirl the space around them, corralling them towards the city.
"Penumbria is dead – although it doesn't yet know that," the Emperor declared. "Once it falls, the rebels' fight at the Santuario das Chamas will mean absolutely nothing. All Valente and the Gryphon need to do is wait a few more minutes, though they would win even without my interference."
He laughed louder and faster as he located a large number of Stained Creatures just a little south of the city. Perfect! We can raze it to the ground in a matter of hours, then. "Nayt, do you play the lute?"
There was a pause. "A little."
"Play me a song!" Ciro demanded. His laughter echoed as his hand gestures raced ever faster, changing the realities of the faraway Stained Creatures. "Make it something fitting as I doom this miserable place and rid the Empire of—"
Had the Emperor's reflexes been any slower, he would have been killed.
As it was, he only just managed to leap away from the carriage's roof, then roll onto the ground as a massive arrow – nearly as tall as a grown man – fell upon it.
The carriage itself was less fortunate. It erupted into a cataclysmic explosion, the force of which seemed almost unnatural and felt downright malevolent. Splinters of wood transformed into ethereal shards, glistening with an otherworldly light as they flew in all directions. The ground bucked and heaved as if struck by a quake, dirt and grass scattering wildly, and the earth itself trembled, recoiling from the sheer magnitude of the impact.
There were four arrows in total, each more vicious than the last. Ciro evaded the first three with increasing desperation, each near miss a brush with death. The fourth arrow was a harbinger of doom, and only by invoking his dark Talent did the Emperor narrowly escape its lethal trajectory.
In the aftermath, Ciro took stock of the carnage. The landscape was scarred and mutilated, crater upon crater marking the arrows' deathly impacts. His carriage was a shattered ruin, and the beast that had once been its burden was now a distant, panicked silhouette. A choking cloud of dust loomed overhead, casting a pall over the sun's feeble light.
"Nayt, are you alive?" Ciro nonchalantly asked. "Where are you? And do you know who dared to attack—ah!"
The Emperor's question was answered not by his Hangman, but by his own eyes. In fact, only his eyes could have answered it.
Too far for even a Hangman to see with the naked eye...just barely far enough for the Emperor of the World himself to make out in the distance...
He was there.
Atop the highest rooftop of the highest tower in Penumbria, watching over the surrounding land like a guardian deity, a lone figure stood with the setting sun behind his back, and the fate of thousands before his watchful gaze.
Even from this distance, Ciro could make out the faint outline of a monstrously large crossbow attached to an even more inhuman arm.
He stood far enough away that he couldn't have reasonably thought anyone would be able to listen to his words. No one aside the Emperor – and mayhap Valente – could've heard him if he were to say anything. Yet his lips moved with intent, and his burning gaze fixated on Ciro, peering far beyond what his untalented eyes should have been capable of seeing.
"Welcome to our city, dear uncle," Tenver challenged.