What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? The question had boggled the wisest minds of Descent for centuries. It was one of the great paradoxes that could never be answered.
Until now. And Remus would be the one to do it.
This fight had gone far out of hand. What should have been a simple sparring match had turned into an all-or-nothing bloodbath. The medics made sure that no-one was killed, but even they could only do so much. Remus just hoped he was impressing the Ambition clansmen enough for them to overlook the cardinal sins he was committing against them.
The hammer rotated through the air in a beautiful arc, cleaving through in a dull rattle. It surged through the head of the great serpent, blasting with the full force of a god slapping down a misbehaving servant.
Remus expected the hammer to finally melt, or to be knocked to the side as he made a hasty getaway from the apparition. Instead?
It cut the snake in two. Right down the middle it continued to spin, down the length of three carriages end-to-end. The body was sliced in half, and, putting both hands to his ears in advance, Remus remotely activated the ability he had left inside the weapon.
Eruptive Will triggered, and the hammer blasted outwards with the force of an atom bomb. The detonation was followed by a surge of red, white and every shade of the incineration spectrum.
Remus held his ground as the firestorm washed over him, burning his own clothing that should have been flame-resistant. His shoulder and chest were exposed, steaming red, and exposed for any oncoming attackers.
Instinct triggering, Remus donned a protective guard, but once the storm cleared . . .
All he saw around him were unconscious clansmen. Remus blinked, noticed that Koa’s oak walls were absorbing the rest of the flames, and dropped to his feet. He couldn't catch his breath, and even deactivating his Mark, the artwork of Tanish still stung.
Medics rushed around, carrying away smoking bodies, but he brushed off any of their attempts to whisk him away. He was safe for now. He just needed to recover.
The stone was marred a charcoal black, with even Koa’s fire-resistant boundaries tainted with the same chalky streak.
It was hard to process what exactly had just transpired. He knew, but it didn’t make much sense. Remus had taken down one of Brison’s attack squads all on his own. Maybe more, it was hard to tell.
Remus stumbled over to where Brison’s hammer laid steaming, surprisingly still in good shape. Without another thought, he took a makeshift seat upon it, holding his head in his hands.
In this bastion of destruction, with nothing to do but listen to the sounds of battle continuing outside the walls, and far too tired to participate in the rest of the battle himself, Remus fell into a deep meditation.
Now, about fusing my Vault and Mark together . . .
As screams of war washed over him, Remus was determined to get this right.
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Violet had no idea how the rest of this confrontation was progressing. All that mattered was dealing out a beating, one that the man towering over her would never forget.
One that would make Pippin’s death mean something.
With his hammer nowhere to be seen, Brison hadn’t hesitated to throw up both fists. Fully adorning her Unbounded form, which was now equal to Nova’s nightmarish body in size and physical prowess, she wasn’t afraid to wrestle back.
No one dared intervene with their fight — no that they could get close enough, anyway. Their defensive squads only had to deal with one of Brison’s melee battalions. The other had been closed in long ago, left alone to deal with Remus. Violet didn’t know how he was faring, but every so often, she would spot a blast of white coming from that quarter, one that made even her shiver.
He seemed to be handling himself just fine.
Violet warped to the side, mere inches away from where a blow from Brison would have flattened her head. As payback, she embedded a fist into his sternum.
She had carried so much force behind that swing, but Brison merely grunted.
She leapt backwards, narrowly avoiding Brison’s slapping hand, flames twirling between each closed finger. The stone at their feet was incinerated within seconds, blasting through the air in a granite shower.
She had to admit, she hadn’t expected Brison to hold his own as well as he was. His geriatric exterior was quite deceiving.
There was a blur of movement, but neither side's blows landed. Violet bopped up and down on her feet. She would just have to be faster.
Brison’s fists were fully enveloped with flickering flame, pinpricks of white acting as the eyes of two twin dragons. They took on their own animated life, sneering, biting on thin air, spinning their heads as if wishing to be free from Brison, to attack all on their own.
Violet warped out of the way of one biting fist, and with a thin layer of Chaos protecting her palms, blocked each of his other blows. The smack of each connection reverberated around, the only sound Violet could hear over the thumping of her heart, and the quiet brutality of combat.
Faster. Faster!
She upped the ante, forcing her legs to move quicker, her mind to anticipate Brison’s attacks with more accuracy. Brison matched her speed, face a constant scowl, the dragons crawling up his arms seeming to grow larger, more angry.
Scales sprouted on Brison’s upper arm, his facial features distorting to grow more alien — no, more draconian.
Violet swallowed down the fear that was bubbling in her chest. She gritted her teeth. Her reflexes had always been lightning quick, but that wasn’t good enough anymore. Her every movement was reinforced by Chaos, defying physical space to see her blows connecting quicker, to ensure her dodges were fast enough to outmanoeuvre anything Brison could throw at her.
Steam blew out of the man’s nostrils. Long whiskers sprouted out of a nose that was broadening into a snout. He seemed to grow three heads taller over Violet.
He showed no difficulty with keeping up with her.
Where was this technique when the Pet-Keeper had come calling? This was ridiculous.
Speed wasn’t enough, by the looks of it. Even as Violet’s body sprang from elaborate attack to swift battle stances, her mind was plotting away. She would need to use her Mark to its fullest potential. Brison, even after leading his clan for decades, was still training new techniques, testing out new abilities.
By obsessing over her Unbounded side, Violet had neglected to train her god-given power to its fullest.
It was time to see how far she could really push Teviel’s strength.
She focused on the squared battlefield they were fighting on, her body on autopilot as it resisted Brison’s onslaught. The man had sprouted a tail by now, and under his robes, revealed his own set of Infirnite armour.
Apparently Aziel hadn’t cared to mention he’d given Brison all of his research, including his own set of Infirnite armour. Or maybe he hadn’t known? Aziel would have needed the sect leader’s permission to dedicate so much time to the library, and so many resources. It only made sense that Brison would be very aware of all that he had discovered. With Aziel’s knowledge or not, he could have created his own armour with ease. And how else would he have gained this new ability, what this new form was?
That transformative technique, however, was something else altogether. Technically, any Mark could potentially create bodily alterations, but most of the time, it wasn’t an obvious ability to draw from your subject of power. That was why only a few clans had major, permanent changes.
Brison didn’t seem to care, however. This was only a temporary form, and, by the looks of it, perhaps his ace in the hole.
It was possible Remus could use this ability too, but would he really want to become so monstrous? Did she want him to become so monstrous?
Violet put the matter aside, surging Chaotic energy through the stone at her feet. Their own quarter of the battlefield suddenly split off from the greater whole, spinning in mad circles. Violet didn’t hesitate, anticipating the rush of dizziness, but it did plenty to disorient Brison.
But Violet wasn’t done. Disfiguring the terrain around them, clumps of rock shot out of the ground, glowing a faint purple as they spun through the air in a storm of rock.
From all angles, Brison defended himself against the barrage of hurtled stone. He constantly spun around on his feet, and had to manage all of this as Violet pressed in to attack. She teleported to and fro, constantly running closer to Brison, but warping between locales so he could never predict the angle she would strike from.
Violet had to suppress her smile. She was finally making progress.
Brison was overwhelmed. Rock shattered against his exposed form, Violet managed her own plethora of blows, all aimed at his vital regions, and the constant spinning never gave him the chance to catch his breath.
Everything was going so well. Then wings sprouted from Brison’s back.
He shot into the air, taking a few facefuls of stone as he pushed upwards.
His wingspan was the length of two men. Only through flapping his wings over and over again was Brison able to keep airborne, his body constantly ebbing up and down. This demonic form sent shivers down Violet’s spine, which was a little ironic, considering the white abomination she was.
Horns reached out of Brison’s forehead, talons forming bloody spikes at the end of his fingers. The twin dragons that had immersed his fists previously coalesced into two swords. The first was a brutal orange in colour, like the final sunset before a sun erupted. The other was the traditional blue of his clan, streaks of white, fiery lightning cackling outwards. He wielded both with ease, and rushed down to face Violet head-on.
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What was this? Was this the full power of a Warlord?
When compared to this . . . could Violet really call herself one?
Brison closed in for the kill, but Violet manifested a wall of concentrated Infinity between them both. The man smashed his way through, hands reaching out for her at the speed of light.
It was a miracle she teleported out of the way in time.
Speed and her Mark alone clearly weren’t enough. To defeat Brison, Violet would need every tool in her arsenal working in unison. Nothing could be neglected.
Her Infinity, her Mark, her human stamina. Her Unbounded and human side working together. Merging into one.
Violet was a hungry void, devouring all of the Infinity in the immediate vicinity. She would be depleting the clansmen elsewhere of their own divine essence, but it would be worth it, if it meant her victory here.
Armour sprouted on Violet, a sheening mass of Supreme Steel that widely outclassed even Brison’s Infirnite exterior. In one hand, a glaive materialised, glittering in the light in a silvery contrast to the sea of azure. In her other, a mighty battleaxe took shape, easily the size of Violet’s head.
She locked eyes with Brison, one thing becoming very clear: no sane man would rationalise killing a bird so easily. But something about this demonic, dragon-like form, so reminiscent of Belindo . . . it was slightly off the aura she was familiar with, the one emitted by the Ambition god and his followers. Then, if not him, who was supplying Brison with-
The man lurched backwards, his belly bloating as something seemed to travel up it, along his oesophagus, to finally boil in his mouth. Then, between fangs so sharp, Brison must have filed away at them with razors, Violet flinched at the sight of fire brewing between them.
With a roar, it lasered outwards. It was easy to dodge, but anywhere the heat reached was scorched completely black. Violet wondered if her armour would protect her from such an attack.
She wasn’t keen to test that.
The breath of fire didn’t relent. Brison flew through the air in dazzling loops, incinerating Violet’s floating rocks and closing the distance.
Violet screamed, rushing forward. She focused on the Infinity flowing within Brison, trying to strip him of the essence. But she lacked her father’s Divine Right of Mastery. Her Infinity manipulation was excellent, but clearly, wasn’t enough.
Brison only hesitated for a moment. Violet closed in, battleaxe primed for a throw that would knock the daylights out of him. She was denied her chance, the man’s neck distending as he made a perfect circle mid-air. The white hot flames were carried with him, and all at once, the last of Violet’s rocky projectiles was reduced to dust.
Violet rushed beneath him, waving her weapons up towards his dangling feet. Brison was always just inches out of reach. Violet didn’t stop herself from screaming in frustration.
Flying was perfectly possible for Unbounded. It was the most advanced manipulation of Infinity out there. Her father could navigate the skies with ease, and here, now more than ever, she wished she could replicate that ability.
But then it dawned on her. Violet hadn’t even attempted to fly since consuming Nova’s Infinity. The technique was simple enough to understand: weaving a layer of Infinity beneath you, like your own personal magic carpet, but too thin to see visibly. It took insane feats of concentration, especially for her first time trying it out. It was risky to use when Brison’s onslaught was relentless.
Even now, he was taking full advantage of his domination over the air, raking down with claws at Violet, keeping her at bay, and occasionally catching her armour with a nasty scratch. It was a clumsy dance she had no choice but to partake in.
She needed to level the field. Violet had talked a big talk: it would be utterly humiliating if she didn’t back it up with action. Not to mention that there was something else here: something desperately wrong with Brison that needed sorting out.
She saw it now, clear as day. Bulging across the scales that had spawned across his back. His Boundless Mark achieved at Vanguard was no longer the pearly white of Infinity. Instead, like he was diseased with some terrible ailment, the illustration was a toxic black. The image was of Tanish, sitting crossed-legged, as Ursula, the god of disease and mortal illness, did her absolute best to poison him. Her visage was portrayed mid-scream, a hand covered in boils as she extended it towards the rakish Ambition God. But despite her best attempts, Tanish remained unaffected, a cocky smile breaking apart his ascetic mien.
It struck Violet as terribly ironic. This was different from being a Right-bearer: Enos had somehow affected Brison’s mind, not to mention distorting his domain of power. To the extent that he was now capable of this disturbed form. No wonder he had been acting so out of character, and why a supposedly ‘friendly’ sparring match was the bloodiest Violet had ever seen.
Was he one of Ash’s men? The ones he was gathering? What were they called again . . . Paladins?
Violet pushed the sickening thoughts well out of her mind. She would require monk-like concentration to win this fight. Especially now she knew a fraction of what she was up against.
Dodging Brison’s attacks had become almost reflexive now, so Violet allowed her body to do its thing, the rest of her attention falling deeper and deeper into the Infinity around her. There. She could feel it now, obeying her commands, brushing up against her skin, like the subtle scrape of a feather. She launched to the side, teleported away from an outburst of fire, and all the while, the Infinity continued to compound.
She felt so incredibly light. It began to lift her up, acting like the pixie dust she had read in children’s stories. Defying gravity, Violet’s flight was a messy thing, but regardless, she almost squealed in excitement.
I’m doing it. Even in this hellhole, her face ached from smiling so hard. I’m really flying!
Brison dived straight towards her. Clearly, the man was very possessive over the skies: they were his territory. Well, no longer.
It took a few turbulent seconds, affording her chestplate a line of dragon fire, but Violet was a fast learner. Soon enough, she was spinning through the air, performing all sorts of intricate moves, and laughing maniacally all the while.
“You annoy me.” Brison had always had a deep voice, but it was like hearing the earth speaking.
Violet didn’t respond. She wasn’t here to talk.
She flew straight for Brison. Forming a barely visible whirlpool around her, she continued to suction in the Infinity all around, acting as a sponge that absorbed any speck of the stuff that came her way. Her armour received the brunt of it: strengthening, rattling with power as she barreled straight into Brison’s chest, weapons at the ready.
His flames seared her, but the Supreme Steel protection proved ample enough. Together, they blurred into the ground below, forming an impact crater, three times their size.
Brison screeched as he was pressed down into the earth, his wails only becoming louder when Violet’s arms flew, torrents of purple light emanating from each strike.
Never in her life had Violet been so fast. This was it, the maximum speed of a Warlord. She couldn't even see her arms, her body moving a smidge too quickly for her mind to keep up. But she saw the blood alright: the streaks of bubbling Ichor, immediately evaporating against Brison’s immersed body. It reminded Violet of how Remus often basked himself in fire mid-combat. Yet no matter how much Brison raised the temperature, the colour abandoning all shade of blue to become a ghostly white, her armour held true.
Until one lucky swipe.
Talons stabbed into the metal of Violet’s helmet. She felt the pointed ends brush against her skin, drawing Ichor. Fire soon followed, caustiering the wound before Brison shoved his claws deeper into her flesh. Violet gagged, one of the talons cutting through her cheek, and into her mouth.
Violet felt the urge to bite his damn finger off, but almost retched at the thought. Instead, she jerked her head to the side, freeing herself of the talons. But in her agony, she couldn’t avoid a blow to the stomach. One that blasted her feet away.
She skidded across the ground below, metal clanking, and leaving a trail of blood away from a rising Brison. Violet rushed Infinity into her cheek, fusing the ruined flesh back together. All the while, she kept her eyes on Brison, who launched again into the air, his wingspan shooting out like banners at a carnival.
Violet didn’t miss her chance. From out of two purple rifts, spikes of Supreme Steel shot outwards. Brison couldn’t react fast enough, before the projectiles skewered through his wings.
The man crashed back to the ground, somehow managing to land on his feet. Violet controlled the spikes remotely, commanding them to twist like drills deeper and deeper into Brison’s wings.
Pain overwhelmed the man, his face trapped in a permanent grimace. Violet controlled his ascent through the air like a puppet on strings, sending him scrambling through unpredictable routes. All the while, she repaid him plenty for that last attack, expertly avoiding what little fire he could muster and jabbing into his chest. Over and over and over, until the sky rained gold.
“Answer me.” She allowed her father’s severity to bleed into her tone. “What has Enos done to you?”
She relented her assault for all of two seconds. Enough time so the man could respond. He merely raised his bloody head with a smirk. “I serve no master other than Infinity. Enos is simply the conduit connecting us together.”
Violet backhanded him. It wasn’t meant to deal any real damage, just hurt the man, but when Brison looked back at Violet it was with a bloody nose.
“Leave this man alone Enos! He’s done nothing wrong.”
Brison’s expression seemed to stray towards confusion. But only for a moment. “Simple child. I’m a Paladin. One of the warriors that will put all of this right again. Everyone has become so confused about what they’re even fighting for anymore. What’s right, and what’s wrong. It’s not a question of ethics, girl, it's a matter of truth and lies.”
Violet paused. She kept the man stuck in place, nowhere to go. All he could do was answer her questions. As physically helpless as he was, Brison had an edge over her mentally, and it infuriated Violet. He knew she was hooked onto every word, and seemed to revel in the fact.
“The gods have started to unite under a common enemy of the Unbounded, but they seem to have forgotten why they’re here in the first place. Tell me, if I showed you a universe full of burning, broken, sinking planets, and asked you who the real demons were . . . what conclusion would you draw then? What is the eradication of one planet, when thousands have been killed in the name of your false divinity?”
Violet said nothing for a very long moment. “That’s not you speaking, Brison.” Her voice turned softer, regained its girlish quality as she adopted her human form. “Remember who you are. The man I know, that we all treasure, would recoil at those words.”
For a moment, there were no sounds at all. The wind itself seemed to go quiet, the roar of the battlefield as loud as dust falling. Brison tilted his head, and for this point in time and space, there was only Violet and Brison, cloaked in silence.
Violet didn’t know who she saw behind those eyes.
Finally, Brison smacked his lips. “Then you don’t know me very well at all.”
Out of nowhere, a fist of flame materialised in the air. Easily the size of a whale, it smashed into Violet’s side, point blank. All the sounds of the world returned in one terrible flash of pain and betrayal. The worst part was that worming feeling in the pit of her stomach, like venom left there to sit and fester. The one glass-shattering reality she couldn’t suppress.That some of the man’s words made sense to her.
Her hold on the Infinity sustaining her flight suddenly slipped away. She was falling, slipping through wind and fire, the weight of her armour only serving to send her crashing down faster.
And crash down she did.
She imagined herself splattering like a bug against the earth below, but it wasn’t quite like that. The crack of bones rang through her skull, a shard of dislodged rock slashing open her cheek once more.
Brison’s foot crashed into the back of her armour. One blow alone was never enough to shatter her suit. But then came the second blow, and the third, and, before she could teleport away in a pulse of magenta, the fourth.
Ichor spilled from her lips, as Violet stumbled drunkenly metres away. She reached a hand out, connecting back with the Infinity of her spikes, wanting nothing more than to tear those wings apart.
But Brison had the idea first.
The set of blades from earlier came flying through the air, spinning at Brison’s sides. He lowered his head, only grunting as Ichor spurted from his sides.
The wings fell to the ground. There, they began to rot at some accelerated speed, returning to ash faster than Violet could blink.
Brison spun the swords, before jumping into a battle stance with a roar. He was soaked in blood from head-to-toe, but the man looked more primed to fight than ever. As if the injuries only served to reinvigorate him with a renewed sense of urgency.
Violet tried to call the Infinity back to her again, but failed miserably, the essence like water slipping through her open hands.
“Looks like we’re at a crossroads, Violet. Both of us trapped on the ground again.”
Her chaotic power continued to make the platform spin, but it did nothing but exacerbate how sick Violet was feeling. She let it come to a grinding stop.
“Your fate ends here. The next few minutes should be long enough for you to reflect on what I’ve said. Maybe, in another life, you might pick the right side of this war.”
Then Brison leaped into another attack, a spinning whirlwind of flame and claws.