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Tower of Worlds
Tower of Worlds 26

Tower of Worlds 26

“What? How did-,” Kyle burst out before cutting himself off and schooling his expression, “your aura is wider than the beam of mine, she must have slipped off to the side while I was focused on you.”

Gregory simply smiled as Kyle swept his own aura to either side, his scowl only deepening as he picked up nothing. He was in no rush as he strode down the side of the small hill, halberd held before him with its head to one side. Working hard to hide his own relief that his plan had worked Gregory came to a stop just out of weapon’s reach from the hunter.

“Where is she?” Kyle demanded after another moment during which he swept his aura all around him.

“Why are you doing this Kyle?” Gregory asked, ignoring his question, “is Lex really so dangerous you need to kill her?”

“The Gods seem to think so,” Kyle shrugged, “this title, Executioner, requires me to kill those who could invite descenders, knowingly or not. I’d hoped the ability was wrong when it pointed me towards you two, honestly.”

“Didn’t you bet that title?”

“I did.”

“So if you lose this hunt, you’ll lose the title?”

“In theory,” Kyle smirked, seemingly glad Gregory had made that connection, “never done this before, but either way I can’t simply give up.”

“Then the two of us can stand here until the hunt ends,” Gregory shrugged, the look of satisfaction on Kyle’s face dropping.

“Damnit man, you’ve gotta be more careful with what you say,” Kyle groaned, continuing as Gregory gave him a confused look, “you insist we stay here, which implies if I was to move from here I’d be able to find Lex.”

“I never said that,” Gregory replied, his grip tightening on his weapon.

“Then mind if I walk to the top of that hill?” Kyle asked, pointing one of his hand axes over Gregory’s shoulder, before Gregory could respond, however, Kyle moved dashing forward to slip past before Gregory could react. Even though he was caught off guard Gregory still managed to react before the hunter got past him, sticking his Halberd out to block Kyle’s way.

In response Kyle lashed out with both of his axes, only to be surprised himself when Gregory blocked both attacks with a spin of his own weapon. Instantly sensing something was off Kyle went through another sequence of attacks, probing Gregory’s defenses. Gregory was feeling great, unlike his past battles he wasn’t being pressured, between his danger sense and aura every one of Kyle’s attacks might as well have been planned in advance. And his increased speed allowed him to easily block or avoid each of the swings. Even after his power up he’d been afraid that Kyle would still overpower him.

But he reminded himself that he’d managed to swing the battle heavily in his favor, Kyle was an archer and probably didn’t even have any abilities for melee. It was clear he was trained in using his two axes, but training clearly wasn’t enough for Ascenders. Without facets and abilities to combine with the training even a newly arrived Ascender like Gregory could match up with Kyle.

Lex should have heard the clash of weapon on weapon by now and started running, all Gregory had to do was keep Kyle distracted. The longer he could keep him here the further Lex could get from them. Kyle wasn’t simply testing Gregory’s new abilities, however, he was trying to read his opponent. While he lacked the abilities to overwhelm Gregory in melee he still had far more experience and quickly realized Gregory was fighting defensively, only lashing out to keep Kyle engaged. On a hunch he swept his aura back and forth once more.

“How did you…” Kyle stuttered as he felt the rapid footsteps of a woman running. He was certain she hadn’t been there before.

“How did you hide her?” Kyle asked, dancing away from Gregory, “I couldn’t sense her at all earlier, now she’s running for the city.”

“Damnit,” Gregory cursed under his breath, lifting his halberd to attack Kyle.

“Oh, I got it!” Kyle said after a moment of focusing on his aura, “there’s a large stone that is now lighter than it was when I swept it last, I can feel where it isn’t pressing into the ground as hard. She darted off to the side then sat on a large stone because my Aura senses movement in the earth? That’s brilliant!”

Gregory said nothing, but he didn’t need to for Kyle to confirm it. He had figured out that Kyle’s aura only picked up movement in the ground, if they’d jumped atop a large stone he could sense, or had sensed earlier, he’d be able to tell that the stone was heavier by one or two people. Meaning they needed a stone he hadn’t known about, thankfully the very thing that gave Kyle the insane range to his Aura allowed them to avoid it. With Gregory suppressing Kyle’s aura in a radius Lex had been able to dash to the side, moving out of the beam of the hunter’s senses, then climb atop a small boulder to hide when he looked for her.

Honestly Gregory had been afraid Kyle would be able to pick up her footprints leading to the rock, but it seemed he could only sense changes from a distance, presumably up closer the Aura’s ability to help him track would have let him pick up on her path. But that was largely moot, all Kyle had to do was crest the hill and he could have seen where Lex sat on the boulder with his own eyes. Which is why Gregory went to meet Kyle.

“You’re pretty good,” Kyle laughed. Gregory was willing to let him waste time, but the moment Kyle made a move for his bow he would be ready. Kyle, however, seemed more than willing to just laugh for a moment, leaning forward on his knees as the laughter wound down and he caught his breath.

“Thanks for that,” Kyle continued, straightening, “I knew my abilities were tailored to hunting animals more than other people, but this… this was something else. I’ll have to watch out for that trick in the future.”

Gregory remained silent, all his focus on his danger sense and aura, looking for the slightest indication that Kyle was about to attack again.

“A couple things you missed, however,” continued the Hunter, readying his twin axes, “one, I can fire my bow on the run, and two, I’m faster than you.”

As he finished speaking he quickly dashed forward, closing the distance between them in a second, feinting as if he was going to attack Gregory while intending to duck under the attack and slip past him. Gregory wasn’t caught off guard, however, and as he sensed no danger that would indicate an attack he instantly knew what Kyle was up to.

“Stop!” Gregory shouted, a blue haze settling over Gregory bringing him to a stop as if someone had hit pause on him. In a smooth motion Gregory lifted his Halberd, spun it once over his head and slammed it into Kyle’s side.

The attack which should have cut him in half instead launched the hunter to the side and crashing into the side of another hill with enough force to shake the ground. With the effects of Gregory’s aura fading Kyle scrambled to his feet, inspecting his side, confused as to why he wasn’t dead. Gregory had him dead to rights, frozen before such a powerful attack, the axe should have cut deep into his flank, but instead there was a deep bruise and likely a few broken ribs, but no cut. Looking up he realized Gregory had the axe head of the Halberd facing backwards, having struck him with the haft of the weapon instead.

“You… what?” Kyle asked.

“Seems I’m something of a hypocrite,” Gregory chuckled, “not too long ago I told Nathen that killing was just something that happened in this world, and he shouldn’t beat himself up over it. Yet here I am, unable to kill.”

“More then that, how are you so strong?” Kyle asked, only to quickly come to a realization, “oh, right, I should have realized, you’re a protector. Let me guess, you got some ability that makes you stronger while protecting someone? Well, I suppose that was half the reason for bringing you two out here.”

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“Are you going to keep fighting?” Gregory asked, walking cautiously towards Kyle.

“No,” Kyle said with a sigh after a moment, collapsing back to the ground, “between your strength and my injuries it seems even the pact has accepted that there’s not much I can do.”

“Then you won’t mind if I stay here and watch you until the hunt ends, will you?”

“Feel free,” Kyle shrugged, only to wince halfway through it and lean into his injured side.

\*\*\*\*

Nathen left the city of Templeholm early in the morning, eager to get underway. The guards at the gate warned him that there were likely many packs of mutts in the area, it seemed like they were expecting another attack any day now. Nathen didn’t have to worry, however, as he was swept up in the confusing blur that indicated Kalasen was guiding him almost as soon as he left the city. It had been a confusing experience at night, but it was something else during the day. It was as if he was being led along by a gentle breeze, the world around him an indistinct blur that promised to resolve itself if he only focused. He could sense that with a single step he could leave the path if he so desired, he wasn’t being forced to go somewhere, just guided.

With each step it felt like he covered miles, the world only seeing a shimmer in the shape of a man for an instant every time his foot hit the ground, only to vanish in a gentle gust of wind the next moment. Nathen had only the vaguest sense of where he was actually going, mountains went from on the horizon to surrounding him over the course of a couple hours walk. The sun had barely crawled into the sky yet it seemed like he’d traveled as far north as he had during his last ill-fated trip out. As he continued to walk Nathen wondered why more people didn’t do this, was it something only the gods could manage? Or could people learn to move this fast? If the former did other gods do this for their heralds as well? When Nathen had first felt this he wasn’t yet a follower of Kalasen though, so could they do it for anyone? He knew the person would have to be willing, his instincts telling him that a single step to the side would escape the effect. Maybe it was possible to tell who was forming the path and, if you didn’t trust them, you could step off?

Or maybe it took a significant amount of power for a god to form a path like this, and so they did so rarely. But he knew Kalasen was a weaker god, largely unworshipped, so was this sword really so important that he’d spend the energy for it? Or maybe only some gods could manage it, depending on their nature. Movement seemed to fit in the theme of a god of freedom, so that could be the case.

Whatever the case Nathen continued walking through the day, mountains flashing past him for hours as he walked and his thoughts turned from the nature of the power leading him along to the mountains. He wondered how big the mountain range was, it had only taken him hours to reach the mountains from Templeholm, which would have been an all day trip otherwise. A group of knights, riding hard, had apparently taken all night to get from that small village back to Templeholm. Surely by now he’d crossed many times that distance?

He thought about stopping for the night as the sun slowly disappeared behind the horizon once more, he hadn’t stopped even for lunch, grabbing some jerky from his pack to eat on the move. He didn’t know for certain but if forming a path like this did take a lot of energy for a god he didn’t want to waste it and so decided to keep walking as long as the path was before him. He said as much out loud, in case Kalasen was listening, yet nothing changed so he assumed Kalasen wanted him to keep going.

It was well into the night that the path finally ended, and Nathen found himself standing before what appeared to be the entrance to a tomb. A pair of large stone pillars flanked a large opening into the side of a mountain, a pair of braziers bursting to light as Nathen approached. Smirking at the showmanship Nathen continued into the structure, trusting this was the vault he’d been sent to find. Descending a modest staircase found him in a massive open room, grand pillars lining the sides and holding up a vast vaulted ceiling. Water tinkled from a pair of modest fountains built into the wall on either side of where the stairs deposited Nathen.

The room seemed to stretch forever as pairs of braziers burst into life one at a time, slowly pushing the darkness back until revealing what could only be called a great altar. Stairs led halfway to the ceiling before the fall wall finally came into view, but the top of the altar seemed strangely empty. Nathen had expected some large coffin, or perhaps a grand shrine or throne, yet the far wall was blank, feeling oddly barren in desperate need of paintings or hanging banners to cover the expanse of stone.

Nathen started walking through the room when he caught sight of a figure sitting at the base of the stairs. It looked like a suit of armor, well worn but still in good condition. It was as dull and grey as the stone around it, which is how he’d managed to miss it at first, but it became more apparent the closer Nathen got. It sat upon the ground with one knee up, as if waiting impatiently. Yet there didn’t seem to be anyone in it, the eye slits were dark and the gaps in the armor empty.

“Statue or… golem?” Nathen asked himself, pausing a good couple dozen feet away from it. The armor was large, but not so large as to be inhuman, likely reaching just over seven feet tall when standing, though it was hard to tell as it sat. By its side was an equally worn sword, clearly having long lost its edge. For a moment Nathen thought that might be the sword he’d been sent to retrieve, the Sky Blade, but shouldn’t it have been atop the altar?

Glancing up again a glimmer caught his eye, something had caught the light from the braziers for a moment, but he didn’t see anything solid. With a scowl he focused only to catch another flicker of light, and finally managed to focus his eyes on it. There were dozens, or even hundreds of tiny shards of metal floating in the air atop the altar, they couldn’t have been any larger than a fingernail, no wonder he hadn’t seen them form across the room. Now that he knew where to look Nathen spotted the hilt of a sword, floating upright just under the cloud of steel shards.

“That’s more like a legendary blade,” Nathen smiled, stepping forward again. Just before he got to the stairs, however, the suit of armor blocked him with an outstretched arm.

“Golem, knew it,” Nathen chuckled and backed up.

“Welcome, aspirant,” the Golem said in a deep voice after a moment, if Nathen didn’t know any better he’d guess the Golem was disappointed by the lack of reaction, “by finding this vault you have passed the first trial, before you continue to the next, however, you should know there are two paths before you, both lead to the Blade of the Tempest King. If you require the blade desperately know that it offers you a pact. For six months the sword will assist you in defending the kingdom with all its powers unlocked, but at the end of that time your life will be forfeit as sacrifice to the blade as its might is not to be used lightly.

“If, however, you seek the blade for yourself you may face the next trial. At the end of this path the blade shall be yours to use as you see fit, but you will be forced to unlock its powers as the Tempest King once did,” the Golem finished.

“I didn’t come here to die,” Nathen replied, “if I am to take the blade, I’ll do so by my own merits.”

“Aspirant,” the Golem sighed, “no Herald of a God of Man may attempt the next trial, in accordance with the Pact of Man.”

“Wrong,” a voice replied before Nathen could say anything, barely more than a whisper yet Nathen recognized it as the voice of Kalasen, “I joined no pact.”

“All the Gods of Man joined the Pact,” the Golem replied.

“All but one,” Kalasen replied.

“Wait… you’re,” the golem seemed to be caught off guard by this, “you aren’t lying. How is that possible?”

For another long moment there was silence in the room, only the distant echoes of the fountains and faint crackling of flame from the braziers seemed to answer. Nathen simply waited, knowing this discussion was beyond him and he’d simply have to trust Kalasen knew what he was doing.

“This is… unexpected,” the golem finally said, the armor creaking as it pushed itself to its feet, “but very well, I never expected to have to administer this trial again.”

“What about non-heralds?” Nathen asked, stepping further back as the golem stood, “wouldn’t they be capable of taking the trial?”

“By the Pact of the Storm, it was decreed that only one chosen by a god as their Herald would be allowed to wield the blade,” the golem explained, “thus only heralds can find the vault. Later, the Pact of Man was formed, and every god joining it agreed they wouldn’t allow their heralds to draw the blade on their own terms.”

“So you must be a Herald to find the sword, but you can’t be a Herald to truly use it?” Nathen asked.

“Yes,” the golem nodded, “except, it seems, that one god never joined the Pact of Man. How he survived I do not know, yet it must be for here you stand.”

“What are these pacts anyways?”

“The Pact of the Storm was made to hide the Sky Blade, for it is a weapon of great power, far beyond any weapon. Thus, to protect the world when he left, and knowing he couldn’t bring the sword with him, the Tempest King devised the Pact of the Storm,” the golem explained, “it is he who laid the requirements for using the blade, in his wisdom he even allowed those who truly needed the weapon to borrow its power. In respect to the Gods of Man, he allowed them to be the gate keepers. It was only later, with the Pact of Man, it was decided that no god would allow their champion to take the trials to truly own the weapon.”

“Why would they do that?” Nathen asked.

“I know not, as Custodian of the Vault my loyalty is to the Pact of the Storm, the details of the Pact of Man are largely unknown to me. I only know of that one clause because other Heralds led here wished to attempt the trial, yet their gods stopped them. Perhaps if you pass the trials you will learn more,” the golem, that Nathen decided to call the Custodian, said as it picked up the old blunted sword from the ground besides it, “for now your next trial is me.”

Suddenly the Golem lunged forward, lashing out with the dulled weapon at Nathen who barely managed to dodge, stumbling backwards.