Novels2Search
The Swordwing Saga [LitRPG Cultivation]
Book 3: Chapter 80 (211): Memories of Imminent Disaster

Book 3: Chapter 80 (211): Memories of Imminent Disaster

The memories Batcat brought were troubling at best. At worst, they were downright fatal for the chances of the Shatterlands’ survival.

Rieren did her best not to rush off as soon as she saw them. Charging headlong into that mess would only see her ineffectually defeated, no matter how much her initial instincts clamoured for her to get moving.

The little winged kitten was tired enough to fall asleep in Rieren’s lap. It hadn’t even bothered to climb onto its regular perch atop her head. That should have warned that it had nothing good to show her. As soon as Rieren began channelling Essence through the little winged kitten, she was doused in a flood of memories.

They proceeded much as she expected them to. The first few were about Mercion. He had left the dungeon to head straight to his clan, though not the ones who had been working with his brother and were now serving the Stannerig Clanmistress after Merolk’s death.

No, his target was his father’s most loyal followers who still lived.

They didn’t immediately accept him into their rank. After all, he had been one of his brother’s staunchest supporters, and Merolk was the one who had “deposed” the former Clanmaster to take his place. What was even worse was that Mercion didn’t hold a candle to either his brother or his father in terms of pure power.

But they’d had little choice in the matter. Mercion had displayed great proficiency with his skills, enough to curb the intention of his father’s strongest ally to make a bid for the Ordorian Clanmaster position. They had all decided to follow Mercion, after that.

Rieren had to grimace watching that little ploy going down. All that power was impressive. But it couldn’t have been Mercion’s own. No, the Gravemark Puppeteer had to be influencing him, had to have augmented his abilities much as it had done with the dead Avatar.

How, Rieren had no idea. There were no overt clues in the visions Batcat provided. Besides, the memories were moving too fast for her to stop and consider them properly.

It was interesting for Rieren to note where exactly the ones who were willing to betray their own clan’s leaders resided and held their meetings.

Halfway between the Ordorian mountain and the main city of Falstrom, hidden in a small grove, there lay a rundown estate. It was here that the dissidents had decided to hole up. Rieren ensured that the specific location was imprinted well into her mind. It would come in handy soon enough.

Mercion wasn’t done with just them, of course. Batcat had continued following him, successfully predicting that he would move too soon to return to Rieren.

With the support of a good chunk of his clan members secured, Mercion had moved on to curry favour with the Stannerig dissenters. Under the manipulative influence of the Gravemark Puppeteer, he had successfully convinced them that he could assist their rise if they threw their lot in with him. Where the last generation had failed, he would not.

They had acquiesced, especially after he had been quite clear with his intentions. He intended to hold the Clanmistress accountable for the supposed crimes against the former Clanmasters and remove her from her position.

Rieren grimaced again. No surprise there. That was what they all wanted.

Mercion had successfully and secretly reforged the alliance between the two groups of dissenters. That he had been able to do so without letting himself be discovered by either the Clanmistress—and those she had told—or Silomene, said a lot about the Puppeteer’s ability to remain hidden.

The more worrying thing occurred when he was able to convince a great many of the non-dissenting members of his clan to support him as well. It wasn’t surprising. They ultimately wished to follow someone from their own clan as well, not the mistress of their dead leader who was the head of their competing clan.

Of course, making such a bold move had finally alerted the rest of the populace that Mercion had truly returned. He should have been confronted and his Abyssal ambitions summarily put to rest.

It was, unfortunately, not so simple.

Silomene was the first to find and confront him. Unfortunately, Rieren never got to see what became of their meeting. Batcat had been unable to spy into whatever small room they had gone into, and there had been no sign of Silomene afterwards, not from the kitten’s point of view. It was slightly concerning.

But the real problem was Mercion’s next aim. While he had set his sights on the Clanmistress, she had been preparing for him as soon as she had learned of his return. Now, she was readying for a confrontation that could very well end in bloodshed.

At the point where Batcat’s stream of memories had finished, Rieren was left with only one certainty. The strange combination of the Stannerig and Ordorian clan members were nearly at war.

A tiny war that could destroy the Shatterlands itself.

“Will you finally tell me what’s going on?” Kalvia asked.

Rieren glanced at her, surprised she had been paying attention. “There is too much.”

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“I can tell from the look on your face.”

Rieren licked her lips. Then she quickly explained what she had seen in Batcat’s memories, what she had performed in the Aether, and finally elaborated how the Shatterlands was on the precipice of annihilation.

“Doesn’t it get tiring to think that every little argument by these cultivators could spell doom for this whole region?” Kalvia said with no small amount of exasperated disgust. “How could a system of governance be so unrobust as to fall when its caretakers lose sight of what is important?”

“Are you truly thinking of things in terms of ruling now?” Rieren asked.

Kalvia flushed, if slightly. It seemed she remembered their little conversation from before quite well. “Of course. I am to be Empress after all. These things concern me greatly.”

Rieren smiled. She got to her feet, though not so quickly as to wake up Batcat on her head. “Well, I must be off.”

Kalvia rose too, suddenly looking tense. “How are you going to stop this?”

“Interfere. I think I must step in directly.” She paused, unsure if she even ought to be asking this, but forged ahead anyway. “And what of you?”

Kalvia looked away. The tension in the air turned almost as sharp as the lightning. “May fortune favour your steps, Rieren.”

Rieren nodded tightly. “I may not return here. If that is the case, then…”

“Then I will see you again later.”

Granting her friend a brief, departing smile, Rieren quickly left the area. As she headed downslope, she finally received the achievement for hitting Peak-Enlightened.

New Achievement!

You have broken through to the Peak-Enlightened realm! Every step you take is more powerful than the last. May the world tremble in your wake.

Rewards

* 1 Level

* 1 Skill point

* 1 Credit

* 1 Profession point

Rieren smiled at the reward. The profession point would improve her secondary class by another Tier. This allowed such benefits like maintaining and starting more than one enchantments at a time, while also raising how long they remained active and their general potency.

For instance, with an improved Grimoire of Waterborne Passage, she could modulate her inside appearance. This would let her control such things like changing her voice to match that of her target or even “peeling” off layers like clothing so that the illusions she took on weren’t so superficial. An exciting development, all things told.

Rieren focused on her current journey. Batcat’s memories had revealed the meeting between Mercion’s group and the Clanmistress’s contingent would occur at the base of the Stannerig mountain.

If she approached from the right direction, she could land amongst the meeting without alerting anyone. It would be difficult, no doubt, but Rieren should be able to find a way.

She had her Enchantments, after all.

Her plans were dashed before they even began when she came across Gorint Malloh. He wasn’t facing her, and the area around him had a strange shimmer. Rieren needed a moment to realize that she was having difficulty understanding properly placing his location. He seemed to disappear at times, reappearing farther away, barely visible.

Ah, of course. He was doing what she had been aiming for. Sneaking into the meeting area and ensuring he wasn’t going to be detected easily.

Those mirror skills of his were so strange.

Rieren was about to find a different way to approach the meeting location. She had no intention of accidentally tripping on Gorint Malloh. But before she could do so, she was spotted by him. Maybe it was a facet of his mirror skills, but he somehow caught sight of her.

“I shouldn’t be surprised to see you skulking about, should I?” Gorint Malloh asked. He looked morose as ever, as though he had already been forced to kill everyone in that meeting.

He had straightened out of his skill. Now he was easily visible, no longer refracting light around his body.

“I could say the same to you,” Rieren said. “I suppose you are headed to the meeting for the same reason I am.”

“To stop it from turning into a bloodbath? Yes. I had not taken you to be one to stop bloodshed, however.”

“Well…”

He squinted at her. “What do you intend, Rieren Vallorne?”

Rieren took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to get away by lying only to reveal the truth via her actions moments later. Instead, she decided to bring him around to her side. “I am going to stop Mercion. More than just the potential of starting a deadly conflict between the clans, he carries within him the means of preventing Falstrom’s destruction. I intend to secure it.”

“What in the Abyss are you talking about?”

Rieren quickly explained what she had learned from the Gravemark Puppeteer. Of course, that necessitated explaining to him the context of the Puppeteer too. He took it all in quite placidly.

“That sounds insane,” Gorint Malloh muttered.

“Perhaps. But it is nevertheless quite true.”

“And what do you intend to do about it?” He had grown tense, as though he would ensure she would do nothing if he deemed it necessary.

“I want to stop the clans from killing each other too.”

“I understand, but how exactly?”

“Lord Mercion will need to die. And I alone will be the one to do it.”

For a second, Gorint Malloh looked shocked. Rieren’s hand crept to her sword’s hilt. If he intended to resist, then she would have to do what was necessary and get going. There wasn’t much time left for vacillating.

But Malloh only shook his head. “So long as you intend to take the entire blame upon your shoulders, then I will assist you.”

Rieren blinked. That had been easy. “I will claim it all upon myself. You can even corroborate the truth that I was the one to kill the old Clanmaster Mavolen.”

“Then we shouldn’t dally any longer. How do you intend to proceed?”

Rieren stepped closer and summoned her Domain. She kept it suppressed so that the summoned water only bubbled around in a little pool a single pace wide. “This will feel quite strange. I suggest you place your faith in me and make no sudden movements.”

She used the same Enchantment she had on the soldier to enter Falstrom. Gorint Malloh looked as apprehensive as the man had done, and she couldn’t really blame him. For all he knew, he was placing his life in her hands. Thankfully, the Enchantment’s preparation only took a short moment.

When the water returned and claimed Rieren instead of Malloh, she felt her appearance shift.

“This is an incredibly dangerous ability,” Malloh said. He sounded grim, probably imagining all the ways Rieren had abused the Enchantment. “How long have you had it in your possession?”

“Fear not.” She had to modulate her voice to sound an approximation of Gorint Malloh, which was bad enough to almost make him smile. “I cannot use it on anything that cannot consent to having its form copied.”

“Consent?”

Rieren considered the last time she had used it, where her sword had been placed against the poor soldier’s neck. “Yes.”

“I don’t recall giving any consent.”

“You stood still. That is good enough. Besides, it also will not last long. So let us be done with this fruitless conversation and go save the Shatterlands, shall we?”

Gorint Malloh took a quick breath and nodded. His dark eyes were as implacable as stone. “Lets us proceed.”