A… statue? No, a man. The caged being wasn’t like any kind of Salt native that Lu had ever seen; his figure was slim and had childish proportions, with skin smoother and more radiant than polished gemstone. He looked very human – so long as one’s eyes stayed below his face, which was blank and featureless save for a single black spot in the centre of the forehead.
As the sheets of metal fully fell away, time seemed to reverse. The flame-lit twilight receded as though the sun was climbing back over the horizon, a warm and inviting glow chasing away the gloom of night – but as Lu’s Comprehension got a whiff of the heavy ki coming off the marble-like figure, his intent to take to the sky redoubled.
Like soap, but… evil. This must be a Rotting Sun cultist – all the more reason to flee! His hand went down into his purse, drawing forth the sword-shaped board of engraved wood. “Bull! We’re leaving, get on!”
The scarred man turned from where he was holding back a flank of Salt warriors, and Lu saw there was a wide but shallow wound across his chest. Must have gotten hit by the other riders. He eyed the flying treasure with skepticism. “You sure?”
The enemy advanced, and Bull swung the treasure sword Lu had gifted him, a wave of force rocking them back a half-step as they hunkered behind their shields. Bull took the opportunity to pop a qi pill, but it was obvious he was flagging.
“Definitely!” That same blast sent them flying less than two minutes ago. I’m not sure what the mechanism is, but our attacks are getting less and less effective.
Without another word Bull leaped, landing on the treasure as Lu willed it into the air. It rocked under his weight, but only slightly, and as heads began turning skyward Lu took them up in a spiralling motion, hoping to throw off the warriors’ aim. A series of Freezes blasted out from his free hand, creating barriers that would hopefully block some of the incoming fire.
Five seconds of flight, and we’ll be too high to attack. Bullets flew past like dense schools of minnows, his shield deflecting them as he continually recast it. Jets of flame created a deadly parody of festival fireworks, turning whole sections of the sky into boiling deathtraps. Come on, come on-! He juked, but a stray fireball manged to skim over the underside of the board, and suddenly his control was compromised. The treasure wobbled, orders of magnitude harder to control.
No, I won’t lose at the absolute last moment! I refuse! Mental effort righted their flight, and as they sailed higher the attacks from below began missing by increasing margins. Bull knocked one final gigantic blast of fire away with a shockwave, and suddenly the air was peaceful. Lu looked down, and saw the whole battle unfolding at once.
We did it! And more than that, we’re… winning! Seeing it as a whole, it was undeniably obvious. Almost all the cultivators present had been Elders and core disciples, many times stronger then Lu, or even Bull; rather than a frantic escape, the rest of the human force had been executing an overwhelming offensive. The middle of the Salt army was a gore-strewn wasteland, bodies piled like chopped wood. A conflicted emotion rose in his chest, a sick elation brought on by the sight of so much death in defence of his home.
And yet, they don’t seem perturbed at all. Why..? Armoured men continued to advance towards the carnage in neat lines, near-useless shields raised and firearm-spears pointed forwards. The Elders were impossible to see from so far up, but their actions were obvious: lines of warriors dissipated like fog, blown apart by overwhelming spellpower and physical strength. Only the tower of flame in the very centre was able to resist at all, and it had its hands full with White Knuckle alone.
A hand appeared on Lu’s shoulder, and he swallowed down his emotions, along with a helping of bile. Not the time. We still might be vulnerable. “Right, right. Let’s get going, Elder White Knuckle seems to have this well in hand.”
The treasure turned sluggishly, a far cry from the instinctive motion he had enjoyed from it thus far. Damn. I hope this is repairable, I’ve only had it a few-
The thought withered as a familiar sensation wafted up from below. Lu’s eyes jerked down, just in time to see the last moment of the Sun cultist. His arms were raised skyward, and although he was little more than a speck Lu felt something like glee emanating from his posture – and then, light.
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Urick’s swords flashed out, quick as red vipers and three times as hot. But the wrinkled human caught the sides of the blades with his wrists, deflecting a force that could have cut mountains in twain with a simple motion.
The counterattack was swift, a quick jab with deceptive weight behind it. Urick’s chest was blown open, flame rushing in to fill the empty space as his stomach emptied minutely.
It was immensely frustrating. Urick was certain he was capable of winning in the long run – his God-given reserves were effectively bottomless – but that was completely pointless, since his men were being slaughtered by the hundreds.
Be calm. We have yet to use our most potent weapons- ah, though it seems that won’t be the case much longer.
Urick blinked, widening his senses from where they had been laser-focused on the elderly human. Without his notice the containment blocks had been moved into place, and as he caught yet another blow on his chin for his distraction, they opened. Bright and sickly-sweet energy radiated out, overpowering One-Man’s scent for a single moment. Someone else..?
Yes, a quick-witted Raidboss gave the order. A part deep in Urick’s chest thumped, and even more energy began pouring in. It was thick, too thick, and his spirit began to warp under its heat.
I’ll leave this part to you, My son. Burn hot, and bright, in My name.
As one the Sun-touched wretches they had collected detonated their overstuffed spirits, and Urick cast himself out. His body sputtered and died, but that was fine; this had been the plan from the start. In the time it took to blink, Urick’s will filled every man on the field – and as the destructive energy enveloped them, he burnt himself away, fuelled by – and for, it was always both – the limitless energy streaming in from beyond.
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The explosions were like nothing Lu had ever experienced. He was blinded instantly, light passing through his eyelids and raised arm as though they were mere glass, doing exactly as much as his transparent shields to protect him. A wall of air slammed into them a fraction of a second later, and for a moment Lu was lost to panic, his arms flailing wildly as he tumbled, blind, through the sky.
Then the reassuring solidity of the hand on his shoulder, and the wood under his feet, grounded him. Golden Benevolence. Overwhelming brightness assaulted him as a deep rumble became audible, and a sense-dampening illusion settled over him with a twist of qi. Ah, never thought I’d have need to cast that on myself. Though now that I- oh. Oh, damn.
Below, it was as though five miniature suns had appeared. Miniature in comparison to actual stars – they were more than large enough to be considered terrain features, engulfing the entire battlefield from one end to the other. Even now they continued to grow, slowly expanding and melting together into a field of hateful light. There’s… There’s no way that… The bile he had swallowed drifted up from the back of his throat, and in comparison to the dense and caustic ki it was almost pleasant. No, they had to survive. Some of them, at least.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The thought felt hollow, and became even more so as the hand on Lu’s shoulder tightened further.
“Lu? What’s- aah, give me a sec…”
Lu turned, and saw that Bull looked terrible, blood trickling from his eyes and ears, skin red and inflamed – probably exactly as terrible as he was looking, if he had to guess. Well, not exactly. Bull’s always had poor relations with healing arts, so I should… A pill appeared in his hand, and he shoved it into the shorter man’s own.
Bull grunted out a thanks, and Lu looked away from his friend and back to the battlefield below. I can’t see anything, it’s too bright. What a terrible thing… I can understand why they’re universal pariahs, if they can do this.
The radiant spheres continued to lose cohesion, slumping like melting snow on the day after Year’s End, but the scent of their heinous ki persisted even from over a kilometre up. This… Might not be containable. And I don’t see anything moving.
There were patriarchs among the fighters. Some of them had to have escape treasures, surely? Lu’s eyes scanned the ground around the area, but he didn’t see anyone. Not that that means anything definitive! My vision isn’t necessarily good enough to pick out individuals from this distance, even with Eagle Eye. “Bull, do you see any survivors?”
The man blinked and wiped at his eyes as the pill did its work, but when he looked downwards his vision seemed clear. With a grimace he scanned over the terrain slowly disappearing under a tide of glowing fluid. “…No. Some animals and a few blue-robed guys from the nearby sect. Scouts that were trapped outside, probably. If there’s anyone still alive, they’re under the- wait, there!”
Bull leaned off the side and pointed, and Lu followed the line of his arm almost directly downwards. He squinted, and as his eyes focused – Yes, I see it! Something’s approaching. Is it-
Ah. As it rose, the sound of a screaming engine distinguished itself, the black speck transitioning into a sleek shape spewing fire from out its back. Of course it couldn’t be anything good. Why would I think that?
Lu willed his treasure forward, but it wasn’t just the control arrays that had been damaged; its acceleration was slow, more like a horse getting up to speed than the explosive motion it should have had. The rising speeder rocketed up, and two bullets flattened against his shields.
“Oh, fuck off already!” Bull loosed a javelin-like spell, but it failed to connect.
Yes, I agree. This is a frankly unreasonable amount of tenaciousness. The machine whirled, blasting towards them from above. It was that vaguely familiar warrior from before, though Lu wasn’t entirely sure how he was recognising him, standing on the back of the speeder while another armoured figure worked the helm. Bullets rained down, and again they were blocked by Lu’s shield.
Ha, finally an attack that doesn’t go right through them. He retaliated with Light Ray, and Bull did the same with a shockwave-generating punch. The machine bucked and was torn up, but it continued to descend.
Lu dragged the board to the side, and the speeder shot down like a falling star. As the driver fought to level out something broke, and smoke blasted out from the side of the machine. Its nose rose and fell wildly, and after a second of fighting the wheel the man in front seemingly gave up and tilted down in a more controlled descent.
The man on the back turned to lock eyes with Lu as they drifted further apart, his slitted helm hiding his expression but for a strange intensity that Lu felt on the back of his neck.
“We going after them?” For once there was nothing anticipatory in Bull’s voice as he advocated for violence, only a bland sort of tiredness.
…That would probably be the right thing to do, there’s no telling how far they could go. But… The treasure shook under his feet, obviously on its last legs. “I don’t suppose you have your own flying treasure, which you’ve been keeping up your sleeves to surprise me?”
Bull snorted.
“…Well, then I suppose not.” His eyes panned over the landscape. “Where is- ah, that’s the right direction, I think.”
Bull’s eyes followed. “The Leaping Trout Sect?”
“We aren’t getting back to the mountain as we are, not anytime soon. Besides, someone still has to close the breach.”
Lu could hear Bull’s jaw moving in thought behind him as he slowly accelerated towards where the hidden mountain should be.
“…Yeah, that makes sense.” Then his eyes went down, to where the spheres had totally collapsed. Glowing pus flowed like cold molasses, slowly thinning as it spread; it would likely be days before it lowered enough for the land to be accessible. “There’ll be survivors too, I bet.”
Lu nodded.
And then the treasure was rocked by another explosion.
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Steadfast Heart breathed deeply, cycling the energies of Earth into his dantian. In the back of his head were a series of thin tethers, closed-shut Telepathic Bonds to a select few of his disciples, but they had nothing to say at the moment.
As he cycled, faint impressions appeared in his mind. Flashes of emotion, the lightest touches of phantom pain. The tethers opened a sliver, enough to communicate but not to distract either party from their life-or-death work.
[All is going well, my student?]
A pulse of exertion. [It isn’t going poorly. The divinity isn’t able to bring much of its strength to bear – less than the Emperors and their priests. It might be different if one manages to cross the barrier, but for the moment things are containable.] Another pulse, and the tether frayed slightly; his student must be fighting with all his strength to be using so much mental effort. [What of the ocean and lake breaches?]
[Nothing new, as far as I’m aware. Patriarch Black World is still cooperating; we will see how long that lasts.]
Twenty seconds passed before White Knuckle replied, during which impressions of the unfolding combat filtered through. The divinity’s avatar indeed seemed to possess rather limited combat abilities – though worryingly, his student seemed unable to permanently damage the thing.
[…Yes, we’ll see. They’re putting up more of a fight than we expected, so I’ll be-]
The thought abruptly cut off, and the Patriarch’s brows lowered a hair's width. White Knuckle? His response failed to go anywhere; the tether was gone, the spell broken. The moment he realized, his attention turned to the rest of the tethers – the bulk of them were gone, too. All of the combatants present for the battle had been unceremoniously cut off. Only remnants of the spells existed, minuscule backlashes too minor to affect his mind in the least.
Steadfast Heart’s eyes opened fully, and he began to cast out, seeking to reestablish the Bonds. White Knuckle. Winding Wind. Seventh Wheel. Nothing; the spells reached out, but even when cast with the aid of divinations they failed.
His chest went cold. [Goldenseed.]
The response was almost immediate. [Patriarch?]
[I’ve lost contact with the Elders overseeing the repulsion efforts. Please attempt to contact them, or get eyes on the battle.]
[At once.] The tether closed shut, and Steadfast Heart breathed out, no longer cycling.
His next minutes contained more worries than he felt in the average century. Small kernels of doubt, the seeds of embryonic Heart Demons, formed and died in his soul as messages came and went.
And then, the diviners were able to make contact with Seventh Wheel’s young disciple. As a brief recounting of events reached his ears, the worries gave way to an emptiness, then the emptiness to resolve.
White Knuckle is dead. Steadfast Heart stood. His gait was steady, though there was a slight trembling in his jaw as he exited his dwelling, Mu Yongchi, my student of half a millennium, is dead. He gently closed the door behind him, and turned to the south-east.
Spell after spell was laid over his bones, his muscles, his skin. He spent a tenth of his reserves, more qi than all the Elders left on the mountain had combined, simply reinforcing his body.
Then, with enough force to crack the mountain that had been named in his honour under his feet, Patriarch Steadfast Heart jumped away.