Oblivion's Crown

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Oblivion's Crown Page 5

by M. H. Johnson


  A powerful clap from the screen above. “You impress me, Terran. And your boon shall be rich indeed. Double the delusional ramblings inspired by a curse spawned by ancient rites! And for you, Highlady Starfire. Tell me, how does administrative rites over the very territory that proved so intractable for poor Tiberius sound?” His smile widened at Julia’s expression. “That’s right. The long ago exiled Christine Highblood has dared to peek out of her shell, and shall lose her head for it! But not before her territory, and all her secrets, her lab entire, are ours! And though I expect full disclosure of all research, I shall allow you a share of those profits. No doubt I can put your all too rare resourcefulness to use maximizing our profits, as you have done what even that fool Blackenthorp failed to do.”

  Julia jerked her head in an imperious nod. “It will do.” She glared at her escorts. “Serve your masters, dogs. Trouble me not with your proximity.” To which the guards quickly complied, sensing which way the wind was blowing, backing away from Julia with quick, deferential bows before snapping at attention before the throne, along with the others.

  Kentric nodded. “Excellent. As soon as the territory is claimed and you have sworn yourself to my banner, the province is yours. Of course I will allow you to partake of the assault, so we may see your talents firsthand. Your talents, and the talents of the Terran by your side.”

  Val grinned. “I look forward to spilling more blood. But I am curious. These accords everyone speaks of. What rules must be followed when claiming a new territory? Particularly when one walks the Path of Shadow?”

  These words he said gazing not at Kentric, but the woman behind him. Contest of skills – Success! You see what is plainly before you!

  Kentric smirked. “The rules are the same for all contenders. No exothermics. A challenge must be offered and refused. You may not challenge members of the High Council. Their territories alone are sacrosanct. If the challenge is accepted, you duel until surrender or death. The family of the one to fall to your blade is allowed to depart with the clothes on their back and a purse full of gold, unharmed, given safe passage to the system of their choice. Of course the challenged can always surrender, at however generous terms you offer, or offer to serve under your banner without a fight. If the challenge is refused? You may use any and all means to secure victory. There are no crimes of war, as long as those accords are met.”

  “And you must give warning to all Dauda and inquisitors within proximity of your attack,” said the dry voice behind a now frowning Kentric. “You must give them time to flee, before you initiate your assault. This may be subtle or direct, as you choose, but must be performed in good faith.”

  Kentric glared at the calm-faced woman behind him. “Any fool can see an opposing army massing before them. And none have dared to say my exploits were anything other than lawful!”

  The plainly dressed woman solemnly bowed before Kentric. “My apologies, Your Eminence. I am not referring to you, but to the Terran you are underestimating even now.”

  Vidar’s brows furrowed as his tongue dared taste the bloodied bag. “Something is wrong,” he whispered.

  Vidar frowned slightly, his hand slowly reaching inside the bag.

  Val’s gaze was still on the massive hyperion screen. “So, all I have to do to Vidar here is say, ‘hey, Vidar, I’m challenging you for your territory.’ So now what, can I really get a territory that easily?”

  Kentric snorted. “Don’t be a fool, Terran. You have served me well thus far, but we have no time for your asinine games.”

  Vidar’s scowl grew as he pulled out the grotesque head.

  “Well, Vidar? Come on, this game is fun! Do you accept my challenge? Do you?” Val teased, lightly tapping the bag, distracting everyone from Julia’s soft murmurs behind him.

  Vidar snarled, smashing Val’s hand away. “Don’t be a fool! I don’t fight apes. Now go heel by your master’s side like a good dog and leave your betters alone!”

  You have taken 2 points of damage! Vidar wasn’t pulling his blow! It looks like Vidar isn’t up to your taunting. Which works out surprisingly well for you!

  Val caught the woman’s eyes in the monitor. “Challenge refused.”

  “Val! I’m not going to make it!”

  Before slamming himself to the ground.

  The younger brother’s eyes widened as everything clicked together at once. “Brother! It’s a...”

  “Titan’s Blast!”

  Julia’s scream blended oddly with the odd shriek of metal as a ball of tungsten carbide streaked through the air for a single heartbeat before exploding in a horrific roar of superheated armor-piercing shrapnel.

  Stabilized Electromana flow active! Cost = 1.25 mana per second. Arcane surges will not damage Psiblades or Dominion tech. Damage from all electromana attacks is automatically reduced by 10 hit points and one wound tier!

  Fast-cast Synergized Ward: Failed! You have suffered 20 points Mana and 20 points Health temporary damage from backlash! Whatever made you think you could fast-cast a Synergized Ward, Val?

  Quick-summoned Forceshield: Success! Maximum Diameter! 100 Psion reserved!

  Val had time for a desperate burst of will as his shield formed into being a heartbeat before the spell Julia had been desperately trying to hold together after whispering the words to catalyze it exploded forth, seconds before he was ready, and Val could only hope he would survive what was to come.

  Then his world turned white as the shockwave hit, his body sent flying as pain tore through him.

  Contest of skills: Titan’s Blast vs. L10 PRM + L4 EM Mastery! 90% Success! Majority of blast escapes you and the Highlord savvy enough to leap in your shadow!

  Psishield absorbs 200 shrapnel damage and Fatal Wound. 20 damage and Light Wound penetrates Psishield and armor! Save versus disruption: Success! Forceshield holds! 10 Psion spent.

  Shrapnel hits exposed limbs for 60 damage and Critical Wound! 30 damage and Medium Wound penetrates Armor!

  Psishield fails to counter heat blast! Heat blast blows through dwarven armor for 40 damage and Medium wound! Stabilized EM flow absorbs 10 points and 1 wound tier. You have suffered 30 damage and an additional Light Wound.

  Shockwave blows through Psishield and armor! Saving throw vs Shockwave: Success! Congratulations! Your brain is intact! You suffer only Mild Disorientation! 20 damage and Light Wound taken!

  “Val!” Julia. Her voice tinny and faint. Val’s gut twisted in knots. His head throbbed with pain. He wanted nothing more than to slip into slumber’s sweet caress.

  “Val! Help me!”

  A jolt of terror rocked through Val. Not his own. Julia.

  In desperate need.

  Forcing eyes stinging with grit open, Val stumbled to his feet, hissing at the agonized throb of legs pierced by jagged shards of tungsten carbide, several having actually punctured his near-indestructible armor, tearing deeper into his flesh as he forced himself upright.

  “Val!”

  Julia. Fighting for her life against a bloodied Vidar Dominicus, lashing out with Psiblade and mind alike.

  “You stupid treacherous whore! You dare to strike at me? One who walks the Path of Kings? I will have your head for this, you vile snake, see if I don’t!”

  And in the farthest reaches of the grand chamber, the half not hit by Julia’s blast save for the shockwave that had knocked them all off their feet, the remaining three guards were stumbling upright once more, one lurching forward to spin open the wheel of the massive vault-like door.

  The sole barrier between Julia, Val, and 60,000 of Kentric’s troops beyond.

  “Stupid wench, as if I’d let you get off Psionic Blast! You dance for your death now, fool! And Ego Crush will always strike faster!” He laughed as Julia crumpled to the ground, kicking her savagely before running her through—

  —grunting in surprise when his Psiblade was knocked to the side by a spell fast-cast in a heartbeat, sheer desperation pushing Val like nothing before.

  “Glacie Pi
lum! Glacie Pilum!” Val screamed, massive bolts of composite ice with the strength off concrete slamming into Vidar, the man stumbling back even as multiple projectiles bounced of his enhanced personal force field.

  Vidar stumbled to the ground, but only for a heartbeat, roaring as he raised his forceshield and charged, but not before Val got off his spell twice more, the charging Highlord too enraged even to flinch, though he was not the target.

  Shadowmind Pierced! Too bad Vidar’s family curse has pinned you utterly before his eyes! Skillcheck: Success! Shadowsplit in effect! Why hide your psyche in darkness when you can swim in seas of rage?

  You have successfully embraced your wrath! +40% potency to all attacks! Wound penalties negated! Boosted Psiblade activated! 200 mana reserved!

  Meta-Magic feat Fast-Casting has been successfully quantized at Rank 1!

  “I will break you just like I did your master, Terran dog!” Vidar roared, lashing out with Psi-blade and mental strike at once, grinning in sick satisfaction.

  Save versus Ego Crush: Failed! Your defenses have been pierced! You have taken 100 damage and 100 fatigue! Shadowplit skillcheck: Success! Save versus Catatonia: Success! You are temporarily immune to Domination, Daze, and Stun effects! You will suffer no wound penalties until death, which will come soon enough! You’d almost think charging head-on wasn’t a Dauda’s strength?

  Vidar’s mocking sneer turned to a look of surprise as Val’s enhanced blade catalyzed into being, longer and thicker than it had ever been before, four and a half feet of crackling death lashing out in a furious storm of killing blows.

  Vidar’s furious gaze widened as he desperately tried to counter Val’s killing blade, his impressive skill no match for the blistering pace with which Val struck, effortlessly mastering the bind and forcing Vidar to steadily give ground. As much desperation as strategy, Vidar attempted to rush Val, shield forward, Psiblade in tierce, stumbling back with a scream as Val pivoted and spun, flanking his foe as he struck.

  Vidar’s desperately parrying shield warped and exploded, but not before the Highlord lashed out with every ounce of his will with a titanic Psionic Shout.

  Save Versus Psionic Blast: Failed! You have taken 100 damage to Health/Psion/Stamina. Save versus death: Made! For what is agony to a berserker’s fury?

  Vidar’s eyes widened as Val roared, stumbling not an iota as blood gushed from his nostrils and ears, salty crimson tears no hindrance at all as Val blasted forth off his back foot, his blade guarding his line even as the tip of his wobbling Psiblade effortlessly slammed Vidar’s hastily raised weapon aside, shearing completely through the man’s skull.

  Val snarled. He had meant to displace Vidar’s blade with a Zornhau, tearing through the man’s upper torso. Not have his blade skip off his foe’s, just to shear off the top of his enemy’s head

  Dazed eyes stared at Val in blank confusion, blinking away the blood streaming from the top of his scalped head. Somehow, despite the roof of his skull missing, he managed a smile, his speech strangely lucid. “Well fought, monkey. I thought I had you when I struck true.”

  Val frowned, desperate fury waning with his foe’s defeat, wanting to ask what the hell Vidar had meant, when the man’s eyes suddenly rolled back and he crashed to the ground, utterly still.

  It was then that the agony struck, and he stumbled to his knees. Even as he heard the creak of the door lock spinning once more.

  It looks like you didn’t survive that duel unscathed, Val! Left arm impairment: Absolute! Major Shadowsplit no longer in effect! You have lost over half your hitpoints! All wounds in effect! Crippling injury in full effect! Congratulations! Major regeneration has stabilized fatal bloodloss!

  Val groaned, choking back bile. It was all he could do to focus his spinning senses on the last remaining guard, desperate panic at the sight of his two friends, impaled by ice spears, seemed to be all that had kept him from opening the door already.

  “Glacie Pilum!” Val whispered, wavering finger unleashing a massive spear of pykrete that sent the panicking guard stumbling back with a cry, though it had missed the man by yards.

  Eyes filled with fury as much as terror glared into Val’s own. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done!” The surviving guard then made a beeline for the wheel once more, spinning it with focused resolve.

  Val bit his lip so fiercely he felt it rupture. His mouth filled with blood, the hot fiery pain leaving his senses momentarily sharp as blades.

  You have embraced your wrath once more!

  Blinking the blood out of his eyes, forcing his body into a loping jog, ignoring the agony of his left arm, feeling his fury roar and swell in the pit of his gut as he unleashed it in one titanic bolt of focused rage, even as the wheel clicked.

  "Glacie Pilum!” Val screamed, a massive spear of pykrete whistling through the air before blasting completely through the guard’s breastplate and wedging itself deeply into the door he had sought to open. His spasming hands lurched off the wheel and he slumped in a heap, blood gushing from his massive wound, the very weight of his body ripping it open further.

  Desperation kicked Val's stumbling gait into a full-speed sprint, slamming into the door only temporarily pinned shut by the bodies before it, feeling a fierce sense of exultation as the heavy slab was jostled back in alignment. Val struggled desperately to spin shut the wheel even as he heard the shouts and felt the bangs from the room beyond.

  It was only then that the internal voice’s dry observations finally clicked. Only then that he understood why his running had been so off-kilter. Why it took so long to spin shut the door.

  He was missing his left arm.

  And with his psyche lost in the crimson fury he had embraced with Shadowsplit, he hadn’t felt a thing.

  The only reason why he was still alive.

  His body slid to the ground, laughing softly as he coughed up his own blood.

  “Val!”

  A dying cry echoing through his mind.

  Julia. Crumpled on the ground, painfully still.

  Move, soldier!

  Val forced his back straight against the door, too exhausted to get to his feet, yet refusing to crumple, knowing exhaustion and death soon after would likely be his only rewards.

  A trembling hand struggled with his belt pouch before he thought better of it and simply closed his eyes. Dimensional Rift accessed! Gazing with grateful eyes upon the brilliant ruby red potion in his hand, struggling to uncork it with his teeth before drinking deep of the soothing elixir, searing agony replaced by a delightful tingle coursing through his body.

  100 Health restored! You are now at 175 Health! Crippled status still in effect!

  He winced, realizing how close he had come to death, gazing down at where his left arm should be.

  Still missing, though the blood loss had stopped, and he no longer felt a lick of the agony that had all but consumed him, replaced instead by a steadily growing itch in his left shoulder.

  He grimaced, well able to guess what he’d have to cast to rectify that, and how absolutely agonizing it would be. Not for minutes, but for hours. And he had no time.

  Already sensing the power and potency of yet another who had dared the King’s Path flowing into him, knowing what his next step must be.

  But not before he checked on Julia, all the panic he had ruthlessly pushed aside came to the fore once more.

  “Julia… Julia! I’m coming!”

  Stumbling forward, beholding the scene of absolute devastation where Julia’s brilliantly cast Titan’s Blast spell had catalyzed to full, glorious effect, spraying the latter half of the chamber with mecha-killing shrapnel in a full 180-degree arc.

  A blast desperately held, a tactical spell unnaturally contained, something which superior mastery alone had spared Julia from utter destruction even attempting. Unleashing before Julia or Val could give the servants or pleasure maidens any warning, unleashing before Val could even dart free of the area of impact. A blast which no one caught in the radius had su
rvived, save Val, able to warp the electromana field itself, and the foe who had also dared to walk the Path of Kings.

  Julia! Val’s heart lurched in sheer terror, catching sight of her fallen form, flooded with relief when he saw her chest rising and falling. He blinked back tears as he stroked her hair with his one good arm before trickling a ruby potion down her throat.

  Julia’s eyes jerked open, her gaze one of horror.

  “Julia?”

  “Oh god, Val. Val, look! The hyperion monitor. It’s still functioning! How is that even possible?”

  Val felt a cold frisson of fear as he forced himself to look up. Past where his eyes had instinctively flinched away, knowing it was the height of folly, but dreading the sight of the butchered remains of the innocent souls who had fallen to their deadly attack. Sickened at the thought of more nightmares haunting his sleep, the horrific aftermath of crimes of war he had committed upon every world he had ever walked upon.

  Catching sight of lifeless marionettes just as perforated and savaged as he had feared they would be, splayed out in a horrific melange of blood, gore, and tank-killing shrapnel. Pristine, perfectly preserved eyes wide with surprise caught his own for just a heartbeat as he jerked his head away.

  Lifting his eyes up to the massive monitor he dreaded gazing upon.

  Beholding the smirking countenance of Kentric, and the Dauda staring at Val so dispassionately just behind him. The man’s blazing eyes met his own for just a heartbeat as Val jerked his own away. Knowing instantly the game he would play.

  “Val, how is that possible?” Julia’s voice had heightened in panicked disbelief. Having suppressed the constant dread of knowing they were in all likelihood going to their deaths, her veneer of sangfroid cracked with this one discrepancy. A single impossibility. A massive monitor that survived when every living thing and most inanimate things save the Altersian reinforced back wall had been completely and utterly destroyed.

 

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