As the last words are spoken, The Nameless' image disappears from the sky.
Silhouetted against the moon, in the now empty sky, one of the Seven Great Citadels floats toward the island. The Citadels are giant flying fortresses built at some point in the distant past. There are records of their existence more than 10,000 years old. Each one appears to have been built on top of a floating meteor, or mountain top. None of the Great Citadels are constructed in the exact same manner, but I am not familiar enough with the features to identify one of them from another. I have seen three of them in the past, but I do not think this is one of the three.
Forming n ragged semicircle, the armored Divine Wind troops are surrounding Perzey and I. A few of them even jumped up on the parapet walkway to block that route for us.
With The Nameless' voice gone, a pregnant silence has fallen on the courtyard.
I look at Jinmu. His eyes are haunted, but there is no sign of him being irresolute.
“What was in that wine?” My voice is pitched at a conversational level.
“A drug to inhibit your use of Power. It will block a persons ability to use mana, ki, and psi. Even your impressive physique should take more than a day overcome its effects.”
“Why?”
Jinmu sighs, and his eyes lower toward the ground. “Four years is to long for me to wait to escape from the Labyrinth. My baby girl is chained by the neck in a brothel. Her chain will barely let her stand erect in front of her crib. She has been beaten over and over. Now, she spreads her legs at the sight of a man.”
I feel bad for Jinmu, but I really do not have any sympathy for Mei. She was always a little bitch, and she made her own bed.
“So, why do you have to attack me?”
Jinmu points to the fortress. “The price the DokkAlfar demanded for taking me out of the Battleground was to turn you over to them in chains. They provided the drug, so I would not be forced to kill you.”
I take my swords out of my dimensional storage. “You're sending them to their deaths.”
The Divine Wind troops get visibly angry, at my words. My mocking smile, only reinforces their pique.
“Ignore Brand. He is just trying to anger you. Attack them as a group.”
Jinmu's words have a limited affect. Gamers are mostly arrogant pricks, who think they are better than everyone at their chosen games. These pricks probably still have not figured out and really accepted that this is no longer the game Taereun: Battleground of the Damned. They are going to learn the hard way, this is the real Battleground of the Damned.
*Stand with your back to the wall. Do not engage them, if they do not attack first.*
*Perzey will help Brand.*
*STAY BACK! You don't know how to fight without mana.*
Perzey pouts, as she pulls her swords out from her bracelet.
“If any of you touches the girl, I'm going to turn you balls into ground meat and leave you alive.”
“Do not touch the woman. It will only make him harder to deal with.”
At Jinmu's words, the troops glance at one another and start to close with me again.
With a snarl, I jump onto the ramp leading to the parapet walkway. As I launch myself over ten feet into the air, the troopers on the ramp stare in shock. When my feet touch the ramp, my left hand blade knocks the shield of the nearest one up. The following right hand blade punches through his lower abdomen, and a spray of blood fans out from his back. The stupid look on his face fades into a death mask, as my kick drives him into the trooper next to him. My left hand spears through that troopers eye, killing him instantly.
Once the bodies clatter to the ramp, silence fills the courtyard. The rest of the armored troops are staring at me, in slack-jawed incomprehension.
“What the fuck? He's not supposed to be able to use ki or mana.”
My laugh is malicious. “Who the fuck needs ki to deal with bitches like you?”
I launch myself into the middle of the armored troops. As my victim tries to back way, my swords attack high and low. On my third strike, he moves his shield to far to the side, and my fourth strike, a thrust, goes through his throat.
The rest of the armored troops are starting to move, their anger visible in their eyes and their too tense movements. They try to surround me. Perhaps, they think they can stab me in the back. I step to the side, and the troops surround empty ground.
Even without my ki, Shadow Fist allows me to move in ways that draw out the absolute limits of my body's capabilities. I do not have the raw physical power of my Half-Dvergar body, but I have far more experience fighting than I did at the start of the Great Fuck Over.
“I'm over here. Try harder.”
“Caster's, attack!” Jinmu's words fill the fearful silence.
The caster's start chanting or drawing patterns in the air. I wait for the fastest to be almost finished. It only takes a few seconds. As his spell starts to cast, I move.
The trooper I am charging at has a look of terror on his face, as he raises his shield to slam me. I collapse to the ground, sliding toward him. My lead foot hits the trooper in the ankle, breaking it and flipping him over onto me. My punch, to his shield, sends him back up into the air.
Woosh! Boom! Crackle! Splat! Boom!
The spells slam into the troopers, while they try to dive in all directions to escape.
As I stand up, only slightly singed, Jinmu shakes his head.
“Enough!”
“You sure you don't want to do this a few more times? I have some other tricks I want to try.”
Whssshhh! Snap!
As I stare at Sigurd, the tow halves of the arrow fall to the ground at my feet. Sigurd's face is a mask of righteous anger.
“Et tu, Sigurd?” My words are soft, but I pitch my voice so that they carry. Everyone in the courtyard clearly hears them.
“They aren't trying to kill you, but you're murdering them! They're real human beings, from Earth. Just like you.”
My laugh is derisive, as I gesture toward the troops killed by magic. “You think they'll respawn in a day or two? You still think this is some fucking game? Get your head out of your ass. This is real. You're living the only life you'll ever have. Did you listen to that Nameless prick? He brought your precious shithole Earth into the Battleground. You can walk home anytime you want, but you'll be stuck in that body you're in now.”
More arrows fly toward me, and I cut each in half. One. Two. Three. Ten. Twelve. After twenty arrows, Sigurd gives up. He looks past my shoulder.
Turning, I see Perzey has moved away from the wall. She is watching me with a brilliant smile. Wearing only a loincloth, the swords held in her hands are raised halfway to her guard posture. Her hard nipples and flushed skin make it look like she just finished having sex. The innocent joy on her face is completely at odds with her physical state.
Behind her, Xenia is drawing back her spear for a thrust. Her face is twisted with malice, hatred, and resentment.
“Behind you!” I raise my arm, pointing.
It was too late, before I started to yell. Perzey's faces starts to show confused look, that turns to horrified agony.
With a thick hardwood shaft, the head of that spear is a good six inches wide at the base. Perzey's right breast is turned into a ruin of raw red meat and blood. The fountain of her blood sprays out more than six feet.
Looking over her shoulder, Perzey seizes the haft of the spear. As Xenia shakes the spear, trying to pull it out, Perzey clenches her teeth, her face scrunched up in agony.
All my life, I have lived with anger. It has never been easy to suppress. Too many times, I had to choke it down, because of the social cameras and anti-violence laws. No matter how fierce the anger of the past, nothing has ever come close to the rage that fills me.
One. Two. Three steps. My sword whistle through the air, as terror turns Xenia's face uglier than it already is. A yellow flow starts to run down her legs, but it has barely gone six inches, before my swords tear into Sigurd. His collar bone and ribs a
re shattered under the impact of my left blade. His left arm is severed above the elbow, by my right blade, before it punches through his floating ribs and tears up his intestines.
I do not know what he used to move so quickly, but in theory, there could be as many abilities as there are adepts.
Xenia bounces off the wall at an angle flipping and rolling across the ground, spattering piss over everyone near her path. Lying on her belly in the spreading yellow pool, Xenia stares at me, while quivering.
The entire courtyard has turned into a frozen tableau. The fear is so thick, the air feels like it is filled with sludge.
Sigurd weakly grabs my wrist with his remaining hand, as I start to pull my swords out of his ruined carcass.
My eyes turn to him. “Still alive? Was it worth it? Dying for that cum and piss covered whore?”
“Please . . . don't . . .” Sigurd's eyes turn glassy, and his hand flops to the ground.
Perzey's whimpering draws my attention away from killing Xenia. She is kneeling on the ground, with only the haft of the spear keeping her from falling over entirely. She smiles wanly, as I kneel down next to her.
“Perzey … sorry.”
“Ssshhh!”
Supporting her back with one arm, I lean her head back against my shoulder. I smile at her and pull the spear through her body in a single motion. The spear splinters stone shards from the curtain wall, when it strikes it.
“Ah!” Perzey's gasp of pain is weak.
“Where is your fucking healer, Jinmu?”
“We don't have anyone that can save her from that kind of wound.” Jinmu's voice sounds slightly sad.
Perzey opens her mouth to say something and is wracked by coughing. Blood sprays out covering her lips and chin.
“Don't talk.”
*Perzey sorry. I wanted to stay with Brand forever. Brand can't die. Promise Perzey. Promise me. Brand will live. Brand will kill them all. Brand will kill Jinmu, too. Promise!*
“I promise.”
Perzey smiles, and shakily reaches up to brush my cheek.
*No cry. Don't cry for Perzey. Brand too strong.*
I rub my cheeks, and look at my hand. What the fuck? Perzey's blood is slightly diluted with tears.
“I love you.” I whisper the lie in Perzey's ear.
Perzey's smile is brilliant. Even the blood cannot hide its radiance.
*First time. Only Brand loves Perzey. Kiss Perzey. Last time.*
Perzey is so week, she can barely respond to my kiss. The first time I kissed Perzey, her mouth was bleeding and the kiss tasted of blood. This time her mouth is filled with her blood. She breathes her last breath into my mouth.
Her eyes are already closed as I lay Perzey down on the blood soaked ground. When I push her mouth shut, she almost looks like she is smiling.
Sorry for lying to you, Perzey. At least, the lie made you happy.
If it was just a lie, why do I feel so empty?
Cackling reaches my ears, from behind me. Turning, I stare at Xenia.
A manic grin is plastered on Xenia's mouth, and her eyes are full of hatred and triumph. “That little bitch got what she deserved. She attacked me like she actually was someone. Fat little bitch was nothing but the designated cum sack to give to the ugly slobs we didn't want, and she was too stupid to figure it out. She got off too easy. It should have hurt more.”
That cunt is the epitome of so many things I hate about the Earth. She is a reminder of why I played Taereun the game. Something fills the emptiness, hate and rage. It wells up from deep inside and brings the Dark Od with it.
“AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!”
My scream shakes the walls of the old fortress, as the Dark Od passes through my body. Pouring out of my skin, the Dark Od surrounds Perzey's body, before seeping out of this dimension. With its disappearance, Perzey's body is gone. Only, her swords, jewelry, and loincloth remain. Why did that happen?
Panting in reaction to the agonizing pain of the Dark Od, I start to laugh. At first a soft chuckle, it rises in volume and intensity, until insane, maniacal laughter echoes from the mountainside, rising above the keep.
“Steel is cruelty. Steal is pain.”
A trickle of mana touches my eyes, twisting my left eye's vision so I can view patterns. I leave my right eye alone.
Taking up Perzey's swords, I slice my wrist coating the edges of both blades with my blood. In my mind, I concentrate on the image of an incredibly complex pattern.
“My heart is steel. My soul is the forge. My thoughts are life to my blade.”
I kiss the guards of both of Perzey's swords, and they float into the air, to circle around my head. I put Perzey's jewelry into one of my rings. The soul threads once attached to the items are gone. Taking my own swords, which lie on the ground where I dropped them, I stand and turn toward Xenia.
The cunt must have drank half the booze at the party. She pisses all over herself again, and scrambles backwards in a crab walk.
“Where do you think you're running to cunt? There's no fucking escape for you.” Even though my voice is a low growl, the force of the ki in it vibrates through the bodies of everyone present.
I glance at Jinmu, calmly donning his armor. No, it does not go through everyone. His own ki is strong enough to completely block mine out. He was nowhere near that strong a couple of months ago. What happened with him?
Focusing on Xenia, I direct the flight of Perzey's swords. Faster than an arrow in flight, they streak toward Xenia and pierce her, one in her cunt and one up her ass.
“AAAAAAAAAA! AAAAAAAAAA! AAAAA! AAA! AAAAAAAAAA!”
Her shrieks bring a smile to my face. The wounds are mortal, but not instantly fatal. She should last five to ten minutes, maybe longer if she is strong enough. However, they are nowhere near painful enough.
“Remember the forge.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
Xenia's shriek sounds like the howls of the damned. Her back arches and she starts to flop about wildly. Her nails tear ragged, bloody lines into her belly. Flames burst from her stomach, and Xenia flops bonelessly to the ground.
I hold up my arm and a red-orange, glowing sword tears out Xenia's body. Flying to me, the flat of its blade slaps against my still bleeding wound. With the gash cauterized, the sword falls to the ground, lifeless.
The Divine Wind members are staring at me in horror. Fighting with one another to get as far away from me as possible.
Jinmu looks around. “Since you are this cowardly, you may all leave.”
A wild stampede ensues as the courtyard empties. The Divine Wind members flee down the path to the dock, many of them still stark naked from their party exertions. Trantor and Delilah remain, their faces paler than fresh snow.
I look at three stone longboats approaching from the Great Citadel. It will only be a minute or so, before they arrive.
“Your friends are almost here.”
Jinmu frowns, without glancing at the longboats. “They are not my friends. I only had one friend left, and I am about to sell him for my daughter.”
“As much as I despise Mei, I would have helped you save her.”
Jinmu lets out a soft sigh. “You way would have taken too long. The Central Fane of Yggr can get me outside the Labyrinth in a month.”
I hold my blades out to my sides at a downward angle. Their edges shimmering with ki generated force. “I will not be sold to DokkAlfar.”
Jinmu raises his hands to shoulder height, his katana pointing toward the sky, next to his his head.
We do not bow. This is not a duel. We are no longer friends. Auras flare outward from our bodies. Mine is dark an oppressive. Jinmu's is fierce and domineering.
More than a hundred feet separate us, but we only need one step each to close the distance. Our fighting styles are as different as our weapon choices. I have come to appreciate Shadow Fist's endemic nature, using unending attacks to overwhelm and crush my enemy.
Urehara Style Mart
ial Arts are different. The style focus on precision strikes against vulnerable and or vital points on the body. Most attacks are performed in a fast in and out manner, followed by circling and feints, until another opportunity presents itself.
As we clash, Jinmu slashes at the ligaments in the side of my knees, but I block it. My slash to his side is avoided as he continues past me. In a fraction of a second, the exchange is over, and we turn to face each other again.
We clash over and over. With dozens of passes, I am still unable to pins him down and for a continued exchange.
The stone longboats have anchored to the wall. DokkAlfar are debarking from them, and watching our fight from atop the wall. Kra'cha'len is among them.
Jinmu's armor and katana have been Patterned. The work is poorly done, but they are still Items of Power. He is using all of his ki to enhance his physical ability.
“My heart is steel. Steel is the blood and bone of the Smith. While the flame of my soul burns, the steel of my sword will never break and never dull.”
A Silver sheen surrounds my sword, the visible representation of the spell pattern enhancing it. I shift all of my ki into my body.
When Jinmu attempts to disengage from our clash, my step twists space, and I stay in front of him. My swords attack from high and low, left and right. Jinmu is quickly pushed into a defensive posture. Using only one sword, he can apply more power to his attacks, but he cannot easily defend against two weapons rapidly attacking.
We circle round and round. Jinmu tries to disengage in all directions, but every time, I move in front of him. My swords hit him once, five times, fifteen times, but each time he is able to move or twist his body enough to keep me from penetrating his armor. If it was not for the Patterning, poorly done as it is, I would have shattered his armor a dozen times already.
“Your skill is truly a frightening thing to behold. Even after being Transcended, I cannot beat you in a fair fight. That art you practice could be called cheating.”
What does he mean by “being Transcended?” Is that why his so much stronger? Did he become a Transcendent? That does not seem right. He is pathetically weak compared to those Dvergar Transcendents.
“There's no cheating in a fight to the death. There is only living and dying. You taught me that, when I was still five years old.”
Path of Transcendence 1: Ultimatum of the Nameless God Page 39