The svartalfar was coming in full-swing. Given its monstrous visage, its warbled warcry, the fury of its movement, and the immense momentum behind its swing, it painted a picture terrifying enough to make the strongest of men falter. Just one clean strike, and Lukas would be rid of his head.
It really shouldn’t have done that.
Lukas took in a quick breath, and had to work not to instantly incinerate the creature to ashes, or send it flying backwards by a dozen feet. His experience in the anomaly, especially after his time spent in the yokai camp, had inculcated several bad habits in him. Prime among them was the utter lack of sense to run and hide. Instead, he just tried to smash his fist into whatever was making him afraid. It was a primitive sort of thing, and one he didn’t question too much.
But reflex-based murder was a tad extreme, especially considering what he was here for. So rather than setting it ablaze, Lukas went for the next best thing. He took a single step backwards, shifted his left leg further left, and narrowly avoided the ax’s trajectory. He moved his left hand, and with a single finger, poked the svartalfar in the wrist.
The ax was flung out of the creature’s hands, and crashed against the ground in a loud thud. The svartalfar on the other hand, was practically folded in half, grabbing its wrist, eyes bloodshot and brimming with tears. The other creatures instantly stepped back, grabbed their weapons and looked at Lukas with varying degrees of wariness.
“What?” Lukas asked. “All I did was poke him with a finger.”
Which was technically true. The body reflected the soul and with the latest Level-Up, his body had gotten better attuned to the flows of motion around him. Stepping out of the ax’s trajectory had been child’s play. A pin-pointed application of momentum manipulation, guided by Shatterpoint Intuition had sent the ax flying out of the creature’s hand — inertia at work. The svartalfar’s own momentum had done the rest.
The creature’s sour, leathery face turned a bit more sour, the lines at the corners of its mouth stretching and becoming deeper. “Trespasser!” It growled. “You attacked our wardstone. You. Will. Die.”
“The things at the entrance?” Lukas said in what he hoped was a calming voice.. “Yeah, that had nothing to do with me.”
He looked at Tanya for support, and found her surprised and apprehensive. Then he realized he was still speaking in Faecani, and Tanya probably had no clue what he had just said.
“I’m a newcomer to this town.” he went on, putting forward his best lawyer-smile, the kind you used to disarm hostile witnesses in court, “As weird as it sounds, it wasn’t my intention to create a ruckus. If anything, we’ve come with a proposal that would be very profitable to your nation.”
“Profitable,” said a new voice, coming from behind the group before him. It was a deep sound, and echoed around the room, resonating from the stone. “That is a dangerous word to throw around here, Asukan.”
Lukas stared at the newcomer. It was larger and far more muscular than the ones standing before him. Like the others, it too had grotesque features, with a fundamental repulsiveness emanating from it. There were lots and lots of old scars on its face, scars that Lukas believed hadn’t come with the package and were instead earned in battle. The svartalfar wore armor, and its presence loomed over everyone else, like the naked, sharp edge of a blade.
There was power in that face too. Lukas could feel it in the air and the ground around it, the tension and focus of a pure predator, and one who rarely failed to bring down its prey. It studied him for a moment and then did something unexpected.
“An Asukan that speaks the ancient tongue? That’s a first.”
Language Identified - Ualbesh
Lukas instantly shifted to Ualbesh. “I learned it.”
“Did you?” The svartalfar challenged, peering at him from those beaded, coal-black eyes. “The Empire purged everything of the Old World. Then how?”
Lukas could feel Tanya’s eyes at him. No doubt she was trying to correlate his being an Outsider with these new revelations. Mentally preparing himself for another round of interrogation in the near future, he focused on the problem at hand.
He addressed the newcomer in Faecani. “Svartalfars were also part of the Old World. And yet, here you are.”Inwardly, he frowned in concern. Not because the sudden language translation didn't work, but because it did.
He hadn't known if it'd work. He shouldn't have known that it would work. And yet, he had instinctively done the same. Perhaps there was more to the Pendant than he had thought? Inanna had described it as a Relic, but never really bothered to explain the details. He too, had let that go, not wanting to owe her a favor in return for irrelevant trivia.
Something to look into later, he supposed.
“Intriguing,” said the svartalfar in Ualbesh, “I’m almost inclined to hear your proposal.”
“Then—” Tanya began.
“But,” The creature raised a single finger, in a show of gentle reproof, his eyes locked at Lukas, “You’ve done damage to our national property. Zwaray Keep does not entertain trespassers.”
Lukas weighed his options. What was he going to say? What could he say? That he was an Anomaly and the wardstone was trying to suck out his Omphalos reserves? That his Capacitance function had auto-activated and reversed the drain?
And then a bad idea came to Lukas. A very, very bad idea. One that could get them what they wanted, but if it didn’t, then things could end very badly. It was like reading about the ‘Russian roulette should statistically work’ syndrome all over again.
“I’m an adventurer. A pyromancer,” He said out loud, changing back to Ualbesh again. “And I specialize in Energy Absorption.”
“Absorption,” noted the svartalfar, “so you did drain our wardstone intentionally.”
Lukas frowned, feeling trapped in his own story. “...Yes. It was a demonstration. But clearly, you’ve no appreciation for my talents.”
“Lukas!” Tanya hissed, her face utterly white.
“Oh shut up Tanya!” He retorted, taking a page from Olfric’s book and donning the most condescending sneer he could make. “Look at them! Instead of rewarding me, these twits don’t mmmhhh—”
Tanya slapped her sweaty hand over his mouth, her eyes widening with growing horror. Clearly, she thought he was just trying to piss them off with no plan and was going to get them both killed in a spectacularly horrible fashion.
He didn’t have the heart to tell her how right she was.
“Reward?” asked one guard. “For what?”
“Mmmmbmmm—”
Another guard yanked away Tanya’s hand.
“Speak your fill, trespasser.”
“Well,” Lukas lightly coughed into his fist, “I believe I’ve demonstrated some pretty gaping holes in your security system.”
“Preposterous! We caught you before you could escape.”
“Escape?” Lukas drawled, as if explaining something to a child. “I stood in the same spot and drained the power from the stone. For all that time. Waiting for someone, anyone, to show up. And when you did, I had to keep myself from accidentally injuring you.” He snorted, shaking his head. “All those walls and pillars and such shoddy security? I couldn’t have pulled off a worse setup if you gave me a year to plan.”
Tanya audibly sighed. “We’re so going to die.”
The other svartalfar, one that Lukas had mentally recognized as the bigshot among these guards, laughed out loud. “Intriguing! Few people have blades as swift as your tongue, Asukan. I’m conflicted over what to do to you.”
“I propose a solution,” said the guard Lukas had thrashed earlier.
Dvalinn cocked his head sideward.
“Trial by Combat,” it said.
The reaction was instantaneous. Half the guards gave their compatriot intense, approving looks while the rest looked modestly apprehensive. Lukas on the other hand, was doing a decent stunned expression while his mind was running miles ahead.
Trial By Combat. He knew what this was. It was the prevailing system that the yokai employed to solve competing arguments. He had found himself locked in one such trial against the kasha Quonnan. If the svartalfars followed the same protocol then…
Yes. Yes, that makes sense. Solana had said the svartalfars were part of the yokai kingdom. But in that case….
Quickly his mind began to run through a worst case scenario and make assumptions on what it could mean as fast as he could. He barely even paid attention to what the svartalfars were saying. A Trial By Combat wasn’t just a simple debacle won by strength and skill. It was a political tool, and he didn’t realize what he was playing for, he’d be in a ton of trouble. No, the sensible thing would be to not get caught up in this mess.
Not again.
So why was he feeling so excited about it? A surge of ambitious lust was rushing through him, one that was quite opposite to his own rationality. It was pure and primal and thrummed through his entire body, reminding him of Inanna.
“Trial By Combat it is,” agreed Dvalinn, turning to Lukas. “What do you say, trespasser?”
“I accept,” said Lukas.
“Wait,” Tanya interrupted, “what is happening?” She turned to him and said in a fierce whisper, “Do you even know what they’re talking about?”
“A Trial By Combat,” said Lukas, “We have competing claims, and so, we’ll hold a trial by combat to see who’s correct, or at least— most committed to his version of the story. If one party refuses to take part in the trial, then that means you’re guilty.”
“Oh?” exclaimed Dvalinn. “You know of it?”
“Just in passing,” Lukas shrugged.
“That…” Tanya brought her voice down to a whisper, “that doesn’t make any sense at all.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t have to, but the ability to stand by your truth, even when the cost is potential death, demonstrates your conviction. And the svartalfars value conviction on the same altars as strength, cunning and ruthlessness.”
Or at least, that was how Ryu had chosen to describe the process to him.
“Quite true,” murmured one guard.
“Oh,” Tanya murmured, turning to Lukas, “Oh, crap. Don’t tell me—”
“I’ll have to face one of them, or whoever they select as their Champion. A fight to the death. If I win, we can move ahead and forward our proposal. Whether they accept it or not, we’d be free to go.”
“And if you lose?”
A shadow of a smile floated on Lukas’s face. “Hypothetical question.”
“Fair,” said the monster, openly grinning at his statement. “Then I, Dvalinn, Second Stag of Yggdrasil, give this Trial my consent.”
“Let me fight this braggart,” offered the ax-wielder from earlier. For a moment, Lukas thought he’d get the permission to do so, but Dvalinn shook its head.
“No. I will not sully our sacred laws like that. Hreidmar will face him.”
“The seidmadr?” asked one of the guards in Faecani.
Dvalinn’s gaze did not leave Lukas’s face. For better or worse, the svartalfar was studying him. Deeply. There was an almost… religious fanaticism in his eyes. “Yes. Hreidmar. Face our Champion, Stranger. Give us a battle to remember by. If you please us, we will listen to your proposal.”
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“And if we lose?” Tanya asked.
Dvalinn showed his sharp teeth. “Then we execute you and leave your corpses rotting outside our pillars. As a warning.”
She turned to Lukas, fear vivid in her eyes.
“See?” said Lukas with a jaunty grin. “No pressure.”
----------------------------------------
The Trial Circle was easily the size of a football ground. If it was anything like the one Solana had used back then, it should hold up against physical and elemental attacks just fine. A horde of svartalfars sat on the outside of the periphery, watching his every movement as he and Tanya slowly moved towards the Circle. One could literally cut the anticipation with a knife.
“This reminds me of Shrine-officiated tournaments,” Tanya said, as she walked beside him, “only they use the Shikigami symbol instead of this plain circle.”
Or maybe, Lukas thought, the Asukans stole it from the Yokai and called it their own.
The more he learned about the Empire, its customs and rules, the more Solana’s version felt truer and concrete. The Empire literally thrived on restraining others and grabbing their power. Their signature presence— the Eternal Light, was all but forcing itself upon the world, keeping the concept of ‘darkness’ at bay, despite how alien it made the world. Hell, the entire power behind Spiritism— the backbone of Asukan firepower, was based on the subjugation of an entire race— kami, and their utilization, not as sentient beings, but vessels. Mana-forges to synthesize mana, and allow the bremetan host to actualize elemental magic upon the environment.
“If it’s anything like those, then the air inside that is potent, saturated with mana to help fighters push themselves to their best.”
Lukas gave her a half-shrug. He could care less about the mana within the area. He had more important things to consider. Like how he had a shirt and pants on.
“Time to go.”
“Alright,” Tanya said, but didn’t let go of his hand. At his look, she said, “Listen, I know you’re hiding many secrets. Knowing the svartalfar’s ancient tongues, and their customs— all of this is very freaky but—” She inhaled, “Just— just take things seriously, and do your best. That creature…” She paused again, “Hreidmar, he’s dangerous.”
“He,” Lukas noted. “They have genders then.”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
He shrugged at her query. “This… Red Mare, you’ve faced him before?”
Tanya shook her head. “I’ve seen him fight. Very quick at terraportation. They call him a seidmadr for a reason. And it's Hreidmar.”
She pronounced it as ‘writhe-maar’.
Seidmadr. The practitioner of the Seidr, the Norse word for Magic. In simple words, a sorcerer.
He thought back to what he knew of terramancy. Solana had effortlessly manipulated objects on the ground faster than his eyes could track them. Zuken had used the terrain itself as a weapon, altering its shape, size and density at will. Terramancy was a devastating weapon, both defensively and offensively. And from his limited experience with terraportation, it wasn’t anything to scoff at either.
Seismic Sensing could be a good way to locate terraportation but chances were this Red Mare was better and faster at it than he was. He had already claimed to be a pyromancer, which pretty much dropped his chances to be someone else.
Lukas frowned. The more he thought about it, the worse he was feeling about his chances to win this upcoming match. Lifeforce wouldn’t be of much help against someone traveling beneath the ground. So long as he was standing on the ground, he was within their range. And flight was not one of his skills.
Not yet.
“—der estimate him, okay?”
“Yes, mother.”
Tanya rolled her eyes, before her face scrunched up in concern. “It’s a display of conviction, right? They’re— it doesn’t have to end with either person’s death, right?”
Lukas thought back to the screaming kasha at the yokai camp. She had incinerated her physical shell in the process, but her ethereal form had not come to harm. Not until she tried to possess him. But svartalfars were physical creatures, and were damn good terramancers on top of that.
“Well, it doesn’t have to. But given my luck…”
He let that hang there, and took a step forward, into the circle. Yokai or Asukan, anomaly caverns or modern towns, there was always another battle. Lukas held his power around him like a cloak. He took his time to get into an appropriate position, every step unhurried and precise, keeping an eye on the Circle around him. Red Mare was nowhere to be seen. The floor beneath his feet was brittle, enough to be turned into a vicious coffin at a whim, but not enough to classify as sandy terrain. He could go out on a limb and say that this kind of terrain was favorable to terraportation, which meant the game was rigged against him from the very start.
That was fine. Red Mare could have his tricks. He had his own.
Find him.
Prey Located within Radius
Found 99.5% spiritual similarity with pre-Scanned prey ‘SVARTALFAR’
Insufficient Data for Detailed Analysis.
The outcome of Scan and Analyze used in unison. Whether this flexibility was the result of Warmonger Protocol, or him absorbing the Crypt’s Omphalos, or something else, Lukas didn’t know. And honestly, he couldn’t care much about it either. For right now, he had a fight to win, and a lurker to call out.
“What?” He drawled, throwing his most condescending sneer at the audience, “This is it? The mighty seidmadr doesn’t even show up for a fight?”
His efforts didn’t disappoint.
Around twelve feet or so away, the ground began to liquify, as a lean head popped out of it, much like a dolphin raising its head above the water. Its dark, beaded eyes blinked and stared up at him, before the rest of its body followed suit.
“Pre-emptive aggression is against the law,” said Hreidmar, his blackened teeth on display. “Makes victory sweeter.”
Lukas arched his eyebrow and gave the creature a thorough look. Tall and lanky, it— or rather, he was the exact opposite of the svartalfars he had encountered so far. There was very little muscle on him, except for his palms and his feet, reminding Lukas of a frog.
“Is that so?” He challenged, “then what would you describe that murder attempt earlier?”
Hreidmar cocked his head. “You trespassed. You drained our wardstone. You sought this trial. I am only delivering,” his lips twisted into something dark. “Justice.”
“Oh?”
“Your mouth lacks elegance,” Hreidmar said, bringing his toady fingers above his head, “so I’ll get rid of it.”
Outside the Circle, Dvalinn rose up to a podium and stamped upon the ground. A seismic force of enormous power came rushing out of it and hit the edge of the circle, dividing and spreading across the perimeter, until both waves clashed against each other on the other side. And just like that, the Circle activated.
Hreidmar let out a vicious croak.
Lukas poured lifeforce into his fists.
And then Hreidmar… vanished.
…
…
Before Lukas knew what was happening, the floor beneath his left foot opened into a narrow chasm, sucking his leg inwards. Lukas threw force downwards, losing his balance and falling to his right, where another chasm opened in the last possible moment, sucking him into it. A layer of earth instantly shifted above him, burying him completely for exactly two seconds.
And then the coffin erupted in a forceful explosion.
Coughing, Lukas climbed out of the trench, mud in his mouth, his ears and face. He was lucky he had already begun forming a defensive force shield around him when everything went boom. It was all that kept him from being buried underground.
Lukas coughed some more.
And two spikes of hardened, encrusted earth, pierced into his stomach.
“...”
…
“...”
It took him a second to realize the pain in his abdomen, and another to recognize that his wrists and ankles had been trapped. An earthly chain dug out of the ground and wound around his neck, smashing his face into the earth. The sharp, brittle particles cut against his cheek, with rich, crimson blood oozing down from his stomach and his chin. Lukas lay there, unable to move, unable to escape.
Like a pig ready for slaughter.
He watched as the earth inches away from him began to furrow, as Hreidmar terraported himself out of the ground, arms crossed, looking at him with quiet disdain.
“Your powers are quaint.”
Lukas tried to move, but all that happened was more chains erupting from the ground, piercing his body in several places, and pinning him down to the floor. If not for Neural Suppression, he’d be screaming his lungs out.
Damnit. He told himself. Stop behaving like prey and think.
“Well? Animal?” Hreidmar demanded, his voice barely more than a harsh whisper, “Speak, before I tear your tongue out.”
Yeah, he’d definitely speak. But first—
Activating Monster Prototype DRANZITHL
Initiating Consciousness Shift
Enact.
“I… will, just…” Lukas looked up and gave him a bloodstained grin. “Stay distracted, will you?”
“Distract…” Hreidmar trailed in confusion.
And the entire place went up in a large, cataclysmic explosion.
The very ground was pulled up by the sheer pressure, as the energy exploded upward, carrying earth and debris with it. Everything within Lukas’s immediate vicinity was incinerated, as pure Decay, fused with the hottest blue flames Lukas could conjure, detonated out of him, surging outward in a wave of such breath and power that the entire Circle glowed with dazzling, white light.
And then, there was nothing but dust.
…
…
Regeneration Complete
Not for the first time, Lukas thanked his lucky stars for the Dranzithl prototype. The immense, organometallic mass of impossibly lethal sludge was an absolute monster for its regeneration ability if nothing else. If not for the fact that it consumed impossible amounts of lifeforce, Lukas would have concluded it as superior to Inanna’s Alleviation technique.
As the dust storm dissipated, Lukas looked around for Hreidmar’s broken, burnt form. Half of the arena had exploded, throwing dust and earth into the air. Terramancy or not, you couldn’t escape from that much heat. He still had no idea why Fire reacted so explosively with Decay, but he really needed to find out someday.
He pushed himself up, feeling his body already healed. The holes in his stomach had been repaired, and were covered by the Blob. His own clothes were smoking, with the sleeves now in tatters. The Dranzithl instincts bayed for blood, but Hreidmar was nowhere to be seen.
“That… was… surprising,” came a croaky voice from above.
Lukas looked up.
And up.
Hreidmar was there, up in the air, safe, unscathed, looking down at him in a new light. Gone was the look of disdain, and in its place was curiosity, resolve and maybe a little bit of uncertainty.
“White fire that hot. Healing powers,” Hreidmar spoke blandly, counting off his fingers, “and Energy absorption. You are… interesting.”
“I’m not giving you an autograph.” Lukas shot back, carefully observing his opponent. He had seen Tanya fly, seen her levitate in mid-air, but this… this was different.
Svartalfars didn’t do aeromancy. They physically couldn’t. Their body had natural mana forges suited for terramancy and only terramancy. And Hreidmar was no different.
His posture was too clean, too precise, too stationary for that. Like there was an invisible pedestal for him to stand upon. This wasn’t like dealing with a speed freak like Tanya, or a master of Shatterpoint Intuition like his doppelganger had been. No, this was almost like… magic.
Seidmadr. Tanya’s words echoed in his ears.
His heart lurched into overdrive. This wasn’t the time to be awed by the creature’s skills. This was the time to find defects in his combat ability and take advantage of them. He had already written off Aeromancy. Metamancy was off-limits for similar reasons, as was any other form of elemental manipulation. Unless he was dealing with a monster that could literally freeze the air molecules together—
Wait. Could he? Terramancy was all about manipulating molecules. So theoretically, if someone could increase attraction between molecules to acquire a semi-solid frame…
No. That wouldn’t work. He would still need to balance himself and this frame against gravity.
Let’s run some tests.
Spreading his palms apart, Lukas conjured a pair of fireballs in each, and hurled the right one at Hreidmar. His opponent didn’t so much as dodge, as merely float away, allowing the fireball to shoot through the air and hit an invisible barrier at the very top.
He narrowed his eyes. A barrier. This means there is a boundary on top.
He eyed the circle all around them. Was this barrier trapping them inside the circle? Like a bowl?
He sent the second fireball, and then the third, and so on, launching a volley of fireballs at the svartalfar who lazily dodged them by floating away. As the creature approached the periphery, Lukas doubled his shelling. He could see the very first signs of irritation on the svartalfar’s face as it stopped its linear path and twisted to one side, before traveling along the periphery, dodging through every single one of his volleys.
And then he began firing.
The average cost of a fireball the size of a cannon was roughly a hundred and fifty to two hundred units, varying upon the temperature of the projectile. Given that he could push over six thousand units of mana without having to recharge, that meant he could hurl at least thirty of them. And that was without bringing the fractals into consideration, which all but doubled his mana reserves.
The battle arena would be consumed by just ten of them. He had at least fifty.
The reaction force shoved his feet several inches into the ground as the immense burst of fire mana exploded out of his palms. For a second, Lukas was worried about using too much power all at once and damaging his own nerves, never having tried something on this scale before. If he was unlucky, he would be the center of his own spectacular and splintery explosion. But his plan was good and his execution well-managed. Lukas held his hands up in the air, using Shatterpoint Intuition to install trajectories into his projectiles and hurling them with kinetomancy.
Hreidmar recognized the danger a little too late, and that was where his inexperience showed. He might have real skill at terramancy and a gift with this… air-walking, or whatever he was doing, but in a fight, there was no time to think your way through the opponent’s attacks. Either you had done your homework or you didn’t, and despite the advantage of using his ‘mystery’ technique, he was not ready for something like this. He was focussed entirely on defense, not on offense, and couldn’t come up with a counter in time.
He could float. He could evade. But this far away from the ground? He could do no terramancy. He could not terraport. He could not conjure weapons.
With the addition of those two things, Lukas had changed the game.
He felt a rush of sadistic pleasure as Hreidmar constantly tried to dodge through his spells, dismally trying to return to the terrain he had deserted. Svartalfars were creatures of the earth. They terraported their way through them. They crafted weapons of great power using them. They belonged there. And for all his sorcerous might, Hreidmar was no different.
On the ground, he was practically invincible. But up there? He was a chicken.
About to be roasted for good measure.
“Hey Red Mare,” said Lukas, “you showed me your tricks. Let me show you some of mine."