Sandqueen (Rise To Omniscience Book 7)

by Aaron Oster

  He whirled as he felt a flare of power and found himself facing not just the one, but seven Pinnacle Kings.

  “Clones,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes as he tried to pick the real one from the fakes.

  Unfortunately for him, the Pinnacle King’s aura permeated the entire area, and he was unable to detect which was the real one among them.

  No problem, he thought, clenching his muscles as a feral rage threatened to overwhelm his reasoning. I’ll just kill them all!

  The air behind him exploded as he shot upward, his hand slapping the belt and summoning the essence of lightning into himself. His body crackled with power as he flashed forward, slipping around a half-dozen stone spikes which had been thrown by the Pentagon look-alikes. His fist slammed into the first and caused her chest to concave. At the same time, he unleashed the power of his Sunblast.

  It might not have any effect on the real Pinnacle King, but on constructs made of sand, he should have no problem. The construct turned to glass under the rippling heat, then shattered as he flew through it, targeting the next in line. However, as he neared, a pillar of sand slammed into him from below, driving into his gut and slicing through his armor. His hand slapped the orb at his belt, just in time to stop him from being skewered, and a metallic sheen rippled over his skin.

  His back slammed into the ceiling once more, and this time, the ceiling itself came down to greet him. Morgan felt his ribs buckle under the combined force, but, thanks to his skill, he avoided breaking any bones. Still, the assault continued, throwing him through the ceiling and back into the previous level.

  However, even as he entered the smaller room above the city, the attack seemed to grow stronger, more and more sand rising from the ground beneath driving him ever upward. He teleported away right before he hit the next ceiling, and he watched as the pillar of sand smashed through that as well, before disappearing from view. He turned, breathing hard as the six remaining Pentagons flew up through the hole, all converging on him without giving him a second’s reprieve.

  Morgan released the skill then, unable to hold it any longer. His vision was going red around the edges at his inability to take this monster down. The longer he fought, the harder it would be to remain in control. The chances that the Beast King would emerge were growing larger and larger the longer it took him to generate RP.

  He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of killing this monster. That pleasure belonged to him. Morgan’s fists tightened as the six Pentagons closed on him, their gleaming claws extended and scorpion tails raised to strike. Now was not the time for blind rage and wild, powerful attacks. Now was the time for control and skill to take the place of power.

  These constructs were only as strong as the Pinnacle King could make them, which meant that he was playing right into her hands if he went all out. If he were in her position, he wouldn’t even have joined in this fight, simply laying low and preparing something big, while the clones kept his opponent busy. That meant that while he was exhausting himself against these constructs, Pentagon was likely gearing up for something big. If he wasn’t prepared, he would be on the losing end of this fight.

  No matter what happened, Morgan could not allow that to pass.

  46

  Pentagon the Desiccator crouched in a small hollow, concentrating hard on weaving more reiki and feeding it into her attack. From the start, she’d known this would not be an easy fight, but her father was proving to be even more powerful and resilient then she would have guessed. His speed, reflexes and power were on a level beyond anything she had ever faced, and that was all without tapping into the potential she knew he possessed.

  Unlike her siblings, Pentagon could tell when someone wasn’t giving a fight their all. Her sense of smell was keener than any of the Pinnacle Kings, even the oldest among them. She could always smell when there was more to come, and it was because of that that she’d chosen this reprieve. She’d been burning through reiki far faster than she’d thought she would and had therefore been unable to launch any truly powerful attacks.

  Her Sand Clone skill had drained what little she’d had left, and when she’d followed it with the Sandsplitter – which her father had somehow escaped – she’d been forced to retreat. Now, she was focusing on recovering as much reiki in as little time as she could before all of her sand clones were destroyed. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of him and made sure that she could get a good view of him from where she crouched.

  He was magnificent, his body moving fluidly with not so much as a single wasted motion. The Beast King truly deserved his title, and if he could do this much when he was far from his peak, she could only imagine how much stronger he’d be once he was on the level of the other Kings. Still, unless she could force his bestial side out, that day would never come to pass, so she needed to fight as though she were trying to kill him. Because if she gave it any less than that, she would lose.

  Her eyes narrowed as she watched the clones converge on him. Something was different. She could smell it. His aura, which had been pulsing wildly, barely controlled and lashing out in random directions, was now far more controlled. He’d released his strange skill, the one that left her feeling ill just by being around it, and was now just using his ability to remain airborne. The calm way in which he was acting also made her oddly nervous.

  A small chill crept its way down her spine as the first of the clones struck out, and in that instant, Pentagon knew what would happen.

  Too soon. It’s going to happen too soon. I need more time!

  The clone swiped at Morgan, and though it looked like the blow would connect, it didn’t even come close. His hand snapped out, redirecting the blow and bringing the clone within striking range. A straight punch, followed by an elbow to the jaw, sent the clone spinning from the air, sand already streaming from its body.

  Two more came in, attacking from opposite directions. He blocked both, throwing an arm and knee up simultaneously. He then jabbed one in the throat, then wrapped his hand around her neck and yanked her around, slamming the first clone into the second and sending them both tumbling out of the air. Pentagon felt her anger rise as her clones were dismantled, one after the next. He was too good, too strong for mere clones. Worse, he wasn’t even fighting at his full potential.

  Sure, he was injured, but so was she. Though she still had plenty of fight left in her, she, like all the Pinnacle Kings, preferred to have minions do all the work for them. She hadn’t been given enough time. She needed time to gather an army, power and beasts that were strong enough to hold back even someone as mighty as him. There wasn’t enough time.

  Another clone plummeted from the air, slamming into the ground just inches away and finally forcing Pentagon to act. She knew he could sense her presence, and once the last of the clones were gone, he’d find her without any trouble. She needed to act now, and in a way that would buy her some time. This attack would cost her, render her completely immobile for an entire minute. But it would hopefully hurt him badly enough that he’d either be unable to fight or give her the edge she needed to win.

  She needed to use her ultimate attack, the type that only she and her kind were capable of. It would completely drain her once again, but in light of her current situation, it was her only option. She stepped out into the open as her last construct was shattered, and he turned his eyes on her. They burned a bright gold, just the barest hint of purple showing around the edges. She could see so much of herself in that face, the sharp, angular features showing the monster hiding right beneath the surface.

  Her teeth gleamed as he dove for her, extending both arms as though to drive her through the ground and back into the city below them.

  Sorry, Father, that isn’t going to happen!

  Her muscles stood taut on her frame. Veins stood out along her arms, neck and temple as the skill strained her to the very limits of what she could endure. Power flooded from her core and into the skill’s activation, her body trembling with the effort of even holdi
ng it together. Then, the words needing to be spoken aloud. It was the only way to trigger such a massive attack. She hated speaking aloud.

  For some of her siblings, it was easy, as they had the correct anatomy to form the words. She was a lioness. While she was majestic and beautiful, she did not have the ability to speak clearly. Still, she wasn’t going to let a little something like that stop her. Not when she was this close to success. Pentagon’s mouth opened wide, and she roared, the words pouring from her throat.

  “Obliterating Sandwave!”

  ***

  Fighting in a calm state was not easy, especially when fighting clones of a Pinnacle King, his anger and rage, and the Beast King at the same time. But Morgan somehow managed it, keeping the Beast suppressed while maintaining a calm aura to fight off the impostors. With every blow, he came closer to finding the real one, and with each clone that fell, he drew nearer to the real one.

  It was hard, as he saw Sarah’s face in the eyes of each and every clone he destroyed. These monsters had destroyed his entire world, and they were trying to do it again. They were trying to take what little he had left – his hope of resurrecting Sarah – and destroy that as well. It was bad enough that he had to deal with invading gods and somehow kill them all. Foisting so much responsibility onto a single person was a total dick move. Adding something like this on top of it was almost too much to bear.

  All the pain, rage and loss he’d tried to suppress was all coming back, boiling up from beneath the surface and testing him in every way imaginable. The only thing that consoled him was the fact that no one else was here. No one else would have to die. If he saw that everything was going to fail and there was no way for him to win outright, then at least he could make sure that the Pinnacle King didn’t make it out either.

  He had a trump card. One final attack, one that would ensure that this beast died. However, immense power came at an immense price. Using something like that would cost him just as much as the beast he was targeting. So, unless he saw no other way, he would refrain from using it.

  His hand smashed into the last clone’s jaw, whipping its head to the side and sending it spinning from the air. Now that all the clones were out of the way, it was far easier to sense Pentagon’s location, which was far closer than he’d been expecting. He whirled, spotting her immediately as she rose to her full height, her glowing eyes locking onto his as she raised her arms.

  He could sense a massive amount of reiki being funneled into some sort of attack and knew that he needed to act before she unleashed it. As he dove down, he could already see that he was too late. Teleporting down wouldn’t do him any good, so he did the only thing he could. A massive shield formed before him, flowing up and covering his upper body. He was just in time. Pentagon’s mouth opened wide as she roared barely understandable words, though they were clearly the name of an attack.

  Morgan remembered Octagon doing something similar back when they’d faced him, unleashing an attack that had frozen several people to death in an instant. When this attack hit, he was glad he’d taken precautions. Though the shield didn’t do much in the way of protecting him, it guarded him just enough to save his life.

  The entire world seemed to turn into a whirling chaotic mix of tans and blacks as the wind kicked up into a ferocious storm, assaulting him on all sides. Millions of grains of sand began ripping at his armor, clothes and body as he was hurled upward, smashing through one cavern ceiling after the next. The shield he’d throw up took the brunt of the assault, the grains of sand wearing it down in a matter of seconds before they tore at his arms and face.

  The sand was unlike anything he’d ever come across before. It seemed to first rub his skin raw, burning in the horrible way of all friction burns as it tore away the layers of his toughened skin, before attacking his body beneath. He tried to teleport away, but no matter where he moved, the storm seemed to follow. Pain was all he knew. Pain and a burning, searing rage at his inability to do anything about it.

  The Beast battered at the barrier holding it back, and Morgan nearly lost his hold several times, only just managing to keep him locked in through sheer force of will.

  When the attack finally began to peter out, he’d been thrown up to the first level, the one with which Morgan was quite familiar. His clothes were tattered and torn, as was his body. His skin was all but gone, having been effectively flayed by the tearing sands, leaving him to drop to the ground as a bleeding, messy husk of his former self. It felt as though every ounce of moisture had been pulled from his body and the pain was unbearable.

  He lay there for several long moments, fighting against the welcoming blackness of unconsciousness. Morgan knew that if he surrendered now, it would all be over. In a way, that thought was almost comforting. All his life, he’d been fighting for survival, struggling just to stay ahead. Now that he felt that he was on the verge of death, there was almost something welcoming about it. It was a relief that all his pain and suffering would soon be at an end.

  A flare of anger from the creature inhabiting his body told him that death would not come so easily. If he surrendered, the Beast King would emerge and he would be denied both the peace he’d earned and the revenge he so desperately craved.

  Every intake of air made his entire body scream in agony. The pain was unbearable, some of the worst he’d ever felt. Yet Morgan knew pain like the back of his hand. Pain was a part of everyday life. It defined who he was and what he’d been through. Without pain, there could be no ecstasy, and though he’d experienced little enough of the latter, he had had a few moments with it.

  Sarah’s figure flashed before his eyes, as it so often did when he found himself in situations like this. Her warm smile reminded him of what he was fighting for.

  “Don’t give up on me, Morgan,” she said, her body becoming more and more solid, though never enough to completely lose the strange transparent quality. “Not when you’re so close.”

  Silvery mist seemed to drift up around her, cloaking the ground in a sparkling haze. It gave the entire scene an otherworldly cast. Morgan wondered how bad of a shape he was in if he was hallucinating something this vividly.

  “But giving up would be so easy,” he muttered, watching her ghostly form kneel before him.

  “You were never the type to just roll over and quit,” she replied, bringing her face close to his.

  He could almost feel her breath and smell the light scent of the perfume she always insisted on wearing around him. Yet, even as close as she was, she was still so very far away.

  “But…”

  “No buts,” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “You can’t give up. Think of all the people who are counting on you!”

  That sounded more like the Sarah he remembered. She was demanding, unbending, yet still the most caring person he had ever met.

  “I’m still waiting,” she said, rising back to her feet and slowly drifting backward, her body losing cohesion as she did. “All you need to do is come for me…”

  Morgan’s mind finally snapped back into focus, the pain returning along with all the other uncomfortable sensations it carried. Swiveling his eyes upward, he didn’t see so much as a hint of Sarah, nor the strange silvery mist that had accompanied her. Still, it had given him the wakeup call he’d needed. Dying was not an option, not yet.

  He’d come here to complete a job. No matter what happened, he would see it through to the end.

  The ground beneath him began to rumble as the looming power of the Pinnacle King approached. But, even in his current state, Morgan found that he wasn’t actually all that afraid. His body, though battered and raw, was coursing with power. He had more than enough to draw out the full strength of his inner might.

  All he had to do now was reach out and take it.

  47

  “I think the storm is getting worse!” Lumia called back, her wings beating mightily as wind buffeted them from all sides.

  Grace tucked her head in closer to the drake’s back and tr
ied to breathe as shallowly as possible. Sand whipped all around them, blinding in its ferocity and choking off any attempts at a reply.

  It hadn’t seemed so bad in the beginning, as the small cloud of dust in the distance didn’t look too substantial. However, as the two of them continued to approach the Ruined City, the storm had grown progressively worse. Now they were at the point where Lumia was having a difficult time remaining airborne, and Grace was trying to breathe without filling her lungs with sand.

  Even the face covering she’d thrown over her mouth and nose wasn’t doing all that much. Despite her status as a supermage, she was finding the weather more than challenging enough. She could hardly imagine how Morgan was handling himself in a storm of this magnitude, let alone fighting in it.

  Lumia was suddenly jerked to one side, and Grace nearly lost her grip on her back. The drake fought to regain her control, only to be thrown downward, then to the left. It was all she could do to keep her seat and not be tossed out into the open air, though there were more than a few close calls.

  “I can’t stay up here anymore!” Lumia called back. “I’m going to land!”

  Grace tightened her grip on the spine in front of her and tried not to be sick. Though she was used to a lot of nauseating sensations, including Morgan’s teleportation and the way he sometimes flew, this was a whole different beast altogether. The way the wind battered them, throwing them every which way and trying to tear them from the sky, was both terrifying and dizzying, a combination that made Grace feel like emptying her stomach.

  Luckily for both her and Lumia, she hadn’t had much to eat in the last few hours, courtesy of being too worried to do so.

  Landing wasn’t nearly as simple as either of them had hoped. The wind continually tore at Lumia’s wings, driving her up or to the side, each time she tried to fly lower. Worse, the sandstorm was so heavy that it rendered them all but blind. Even Lumia’s keen senses had been destroyed amidst the chaotic whirling of dust and debris.