The beast superficially resembled a bear, with thick brown fur that covered a massive body, boasting a short snout filled with razor sharp teeth and trunk like front limbs that ended in large paws and long claws. But the further back you went the less it looked like a grizzly and the more alien it became. Instead of the short, thick rear legs the monster had two pairs of long spider like legs that ended in sharp points. These gave the beast a surprising amount of agility when compared to the animal Nathen knew from his home world. It could lunge forward, lashing out with a massive claw before retreating just as fast. He was pretty sure it was naturally larger than most bears as well, even without rearing up it stood nearly as tall as he did.
As he fought he’d learned to respect its power, even just being clipped was enough to send him tumbling across the ground. The armor he’d gotten from his looting ability had helped blunt the blows, the beast’s claws tearing rents in the thick leather instead of his own flesh. But as the battle went on the armor rapidly fell apart under the blows. But Nathen wasn’t worried, in fact he was enjoying himself. Only the large mantis had pushed him this hard before, and he reveled in the challenge.
For his own part, his sword was getting dull from constant use, and was having trouble cutting the durable hide of the bear creature. It took multiple hits to the same spot to cut deep enough to draw blood, and it would take significantly more to cause actual injury. Nathen had been steadily learning the beast’s attacks, while none of the creatures he’d fought had anything as rigid as a set attack pattern, they did have understandable limits, strengths and weaknesses. The bear had massive strength, surprising reach and the ability to lash out further than its short front limbs would indicate thanks to the spider-like rear legs.
But it was less nimble when it came to turning, Nathen found, meaning if he could get past an attack and into the beast’s side he’d have a period in which he could attack relatively safely. The window was narrow and his sword was unable to deliver a decisive blow in that time, so instead he was forced into a protracted battle.
The woman with him had retreated as soon as the beast had emerged, seemingly expecting him to flee with her, instead she could only watch as the strange Ascender charged into battle against a monster that weighed several times more than he did. Now she could only watch in awe as he went toe to toe with the great beast. Every time he was struck she expected him to stay down, but every time he rushed to his feet, occasionally pausing only to take a quick swig from his waterskin, before charging back into the fight.
If anything, with each passing moment he grew faster, avoiding attacks easier and hitting harder. Leaving her to wonder if this was the power of all Ascenders, or if this man was uniquely crazy.
\-\-\-\-
*NEW ABILITY:* Focused Strikes
Your desire for battle only increases as the fight goes on.
-Gain increased physical ability and speed as you land attacks for a moderate duration
-Lose part of this bonus when struck
\-\-\-\-
\-\-\-\-
*ABILITY ‘FOCUSED STRIKES’ HAS LINKED TO MINOR FACET ‘SWORDS’*
-Ability effect increased when landing sword attacks, and reduced with any other weapon
\-\-\-\-
Nathen didn’t bother to read the popups as they appeared, somehow he already knew what it did. With each attack he landed the bear seemed to move a little slower and his next attack would cut slightly deeper. Fewer swipes or bites from the monster managed to catch him as he grew steadily faster and stronger.
Eventually he reached a critical point in his speed, allowing him to flow around the wide swings of the bear’s claws with ease, reaching the beast’s sides more often and landing more attacks each time he did. The monster’s flanks were covered in blood as the constant assault tore apart the previously thick hide. Anger clear in its animalistic gaze it suddenly backed away and reared onto its rear legs, the long spider like limbs somehow managing to hold the immense weight of the beast. Nathen was preparing to charge in, eager to test his sword against the fur covered rear legs, when the bear let out an earth shaking roar. The bellow carried enough force and volume that it created barely visible distortions in the air, the trees surrounded the pair bent away as all other noise was overwhelmed by the sheer power of the roar.
Despite himself Nathen felt fear fill his mind, halting his charge and even causing him to take a step back. For an instant he felt like turning to run away, but his highly focused mind crushed that feeling, why would he feel like running? He was winning this battle.
Then he remembered the mind altering effects of the mantis, making him see a beautiful woman while triggering his lust. The bear’s roar had to be operating on a similar principle, instead of altering his vision it simply filled the target with fear. Perhaps without the visual illusion the ability didn’t require physical contact.
As soon as he made the connection the fear in him flashed to anger, the fury he felt at the mantis for messing with his mind returning, causing him to step forward and unleash a powerful thrust of his sword alongside a yell of his own. His war cry was easily drowned out, but the thrust found a ragged hole in the beast’s hide and sunk deep into the flesh beneath. In surprise the bear cut off the roar and stumbled backwards to escape the blade. Nathen recovered from both his flash of anger and the reckless attack it had driven him to, allowing the beast to make some distance. Still standing upright the two made eye contact, both were panting with exhaustion and covered in their own blood.
After a long moment in which the two regarded each other, the bear turned, falling back onto its front paws and taking off at a lazy run away from Nathen. For a moment the Ascender considered chasing after it, but the bear wasn’t running away in fear, it was a respectful withdrawal. With a smirk Nathen did his best salute with his sword to the retreating monster before falling to his knees, dropping his blade and gasping for air. With the battle over he felt the power he’d gained from his newest ability steadily fall away, leaving him feeling weak. Chuckling to himself when he managed to catch his breath he fell backwards onto the ground, only to see the fearful, and slightly awed, expression of the woman he'd been escorting carefully emerge from behind a tree.
\*\*\*\*\*
The kingdom’s capitol was one of the less impressive of its kind, built within and around one of the aged castles originally built by the first and last emperor it was a dreadfully dreary affair. At least, according to the man who walked calmly through its halls. No amount of white wash could hide the cracking stonework, fraying tapestries hung between columns that were older than anyone who lived or worked in the castle. It was one more sign that the kingdom was on the decline, even before the recent madness. Then again such chaotic madness was almost a tradition of the storm kingdoms. It was just such a shame that the kingdom was going through such an uninteresting decline.
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“Lord Flameblade,” the young King-to-be said, rising as the armed man walked into the council room deep within the dark halls of the castle, “thank you so much for attending this meeting.”
“I do not appreciate being called on,” Flameblade replied darkly, the rest of the council looking on in a combination of confusion and fear.
“Are you not pledged to me?”
“I was pledged to your father,” he said, sitting lazily in one of the empty chairs without making even an attempt to bow.
“How dare you,” the only other man in armor said, slamming his hands on the table and shooting to his feet, “treating our king with such disrespect.”
“I thought the coronation was still being planned,” Flameblade shrugged.
“Be that as it may, he is still our liege lord and you should-.”
“Easy, Count Rahkam,” the young king said, holding out a hand to silence the larger man, “Lord Flameblade was my father’s Champion and the strongest Ascender in our kingdom. I asked him to come here because we could use his assistance.”
“Ascender or not he should show respect to the throne!” The count insisted.
“If this is how its going to be, I’m leaving,” Flameblade said, moving to stand.
“Wait!” the king shouted, holding out a hand to stall the Ascender’s movements, “Count Rahkam will hold his tongue, please, we require your help.”
“If you think I’m going to back down from this whelp just because he’s an-,” Rahkam started only for the target of his ire to vanish in a puff of flame. Surprised he looked around only to suddenly feel a presence behind him.
“Do you want to know how I got the name Flameblade?” the cool voice of the ascender asked, somehow crushing Rahkam in a sudden feeling of danger, as if some massive predator was standing behind him and daring him to run.
“Easy, Sir Flameblade,” the young king said quickly, holding up a hand in an attempt to forestall the Ascender, “Count Rahkam will watch his tongue for the rest of the meeting, if he doesn’t you can finish your demonstration. Understood?”
The Count nodded shakily, a cold sweat running down his back as a paralyzing fear raced through his body. Moments later there was a burst of heat behind him and the Ascender reappeared in the chair across the table as if he’d never left.
“Is wine all you have?” the Ascender asked casually as he inspected the drinks on the table, “any chance I can get some tea?”
“Of course,” the crown prince said, waving for a servant to retrieve the drink, “as to the point of this meeting… how much attention have you been paying to the state of the kingdom, Sir Flameblade?”
“I know one of your dukes is using Bobert’s death to make a play for power,” the champion shrugged, “while the rest of them are doing little but waiting and watching.”
“The situation is a bit more complex then that,” the young man replied, nodding to another of the councilors to continue.
“Ah… yes,” the older man said, stroking his beard nervously as he picked up the explanation, “the opposition faction has discovered what they claim is a half sister of our Prince Jason, who is older by a year and thus the true heir to the throne.”
“And from what I understand she has no interest in the crown,” the Ascender finished, smiling at the young maid as she poured him a cup of tea, “she was planning to become a priestess if I remember correctly.”
“You knew about her?” another of the councilors asked, looking surprised.
“I knew Bobert better than the rest of you combined,” Flameblade said simply, pretending not to notice as Count Rahkam’s face turned red in anger at the casual nickname of their previous king.
“His Majesty, Robert the third, never mentioned it to us,” the Count said in a careful voice, anger and fear warring on his face as he spoke, “did he not imagine this could cause a problem of succession?”
“Bobert was always an impulsive, lusty man,” the Ascender replied, ignoring the Count’s glare, “and his past was always a source of shame for him. He figured it wouldn’t be an issue if his daughter took the cloth.”
“From what I’ve learned,” the oldest member of the council spoke up again, “she was planning to join the Church of Guidance, which, as I’m sure you’re aware, isn’t pledged to a particular god. Thus they don’t make the same vows as a devotee of a god would.”
“He wasn’t the smartest man either,” Flameblade admitted.
“Do you know where my half-sister is now?” the prince asked, clearly uncomfortable with the discussion into his father’s failings.
“The opposition had her for a time, they found her in a temple near the World Wood,” the bearded man explained, looking through the stack of papers before him, “but apparently they lost her when an Ascended intervened.”
“Which is why we asked you here,” the young king explained, “if another Ascender is involved it would be best for an Ascender to deal with it.”
“Any idea who it is?” Flameblade asked, leaning forward and showing interest for the first time since he’d arrived.
“We believe it’s a newly arrived Ascender,” the old man replied, “according to the Record of the Wood, four other Ascenders have emerged from the wood in the last two weeks.”
“Four? In less than a month?”
“Five if the report is correct,” nodded the older man.
“Sounds like a surge,” the Ascender said, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his tea.
“A surge?” Count Rahkam asked despite himself.
“On occasion a large number of people will Ascend all at once,” explained Flameblade, “typically only half of Ascenders make it out of the World Wood alive, so if five are reported then at least ten arrived at around the same time. And it’s likely more will follow.”
“An influx of new Ascenders could destabilize things even further,” the old man said nervously.
“So, will you help us Sir Flameblade?” the prince asked.
“No,” the Ascender said simply, “it would be in poor taste for one of my power to kill one newly arrived in this world. Bobert’s last wish was for me to protect the border of the kingdom for a year. Not to handle new Ascenders.”
“You can’t-,” Count Rahkam started only to be cut off as the prince raised a hand.
“What would you suggest, Sir Flameblade?” the young man asked.
“If any of the Ascenders came out of the Wood in this kingdom try to convince them to help,” Flameblade said after a moment, “whenever there is a surge the new Ascenders all tend to come from the same world. And they bring their problems with them, unlike when individuals arrive alone.”
“And what will you do?”
“I’ll do what I promised your father, I’ll ensure no other kingdom takes advantage of the discord here for a year, then I plan to surpass this world and move on to the next.”
“Ah, we’re in luck!” the old councilor spoke up, while the others had spoken, he’d pulled a large tome from somewhere and, with a pair of half-moon glasses, began to leaf through it, “looks like there’s a new Ascender in Weslin, the Church of Guidance there recorded his appearance a couple days ago.”
“There you go!” Flameblade declared, gesturing with his mostly empty teacup, “you’re going to need someone to replace me eventually. Maybe you can get that guy.”
“What do we know of him?” the prince asked.
“Well,” the man replied, squinting at the book, “brown hair, green eyes… claims to not be much of a fighter, but he survived and escaped the World Wood so he must have some ability. Goes by the name… Gregory.”
“Count Rahkam, I believe Weslin is in your county, perhaps you could attempt to recruit him.”
“I suppose, if… Flameblade is unwilling to assist,” the Count said carefully, glaring across the table at the Ascender, “I’ll rally a couple lances as well, that should be near where your half sister was last seen. If Master Gertrund could perhaps locate her, I might be able to retrieve her.”
“Mmm?” the older man said, looking up at the mention of his name, “ah, yes, of course. I’ll attempt to locate her.”
“Just try to avoid combat,” the Prince warned, “so far the opposition nobles have refrained from open rebellion. Once we have my half-sister out of their reach I’d like to leave an out for them, so they remain in the Kingdom. That becomes much harder if an outright war breaks out.”
“I’ll try, my liege,” the count said with a bow.