Chương 55: Guild war (3)

Ethan stepped forward, his focus narrowing entirely onto Desmond. He didn't even spare a glance for Alice. As far as he was concerned, this was the last mercy he would show her. He still didn't understand what angle she was playing, but he no longer cared. Instead, the only thing on his mind was finishing this. Desmond stood several yards away, already in motion, his presence felt more than seen as the air around him twisted under his control, blowing sand around his feet.

"You could still join me," Desmond said.

"I'll need a good enforcer." Ethan snorted, and spared a quick glance at the battle. Things had been going on for at least fifteen minutes now. And it was clear, the Valkyries were on the losing end. Especially in the immediate surroundings. The rest of the Broken Dawns had taken the Valkyries by surprise. Attack them from behind, as spells and arrows tore through the air.

"I'll pass. Why don't you just call your people off? Anyone can see how this is going to unfold."

"I'm confident," Desmond responded. Ethan could feel mana pour out of him and mix with the ambient mana in the air. The sand began to spiral at Desmond's feet. Ethan advanced as he also activated [Mana Infusion] at a subtle rate. He helped guide his mana through its paths. It flowed through his body in controlled streams, reinforcing muscle and tendon. Desmond shifted his stance, his arms came down low, until he spun. From where Ethan stood, he could feel the wind picking up unnaturally.

Desmond finished spinning, and facing Ethan, he pushed his hands out. Sand erupted into a carved channel as it got pushed out of the way from the spell Desmond had cast. Ethan brought his sword down and stepped to the side as a sharp current of wind carved beside him. [Steadfast] took hold and his greatsword blocked the rest. Ethan held his ground, feeling the brunt of Desmond's attack pass him.

His foot slid back slightly and the remainder of the spell split the sand behind him, leaving a thin trench that lifted up the sand and anything else that was in its way. Ethan surged more mana into his muscles and burst forward, wanting to close the distance as fast as possible. He had done his research on Desmond. And Ethan had been right, he did have a small passage of the man in his journal.

Desmond wasn't anyone who stayed important, in fact Ethan was pretty sure he didn't make it past the second level, but he was a strong mage. One that had a high affinity for wind and earth. So Ethan's best option was to apply maximum pressure, and not let him cast any spells. He blurred forward, using far more mana than he would have liked. Desmond's eyes widened slightly as Ethan brought his sword down when he was still over a yard away. The blade carved through the air in a horizontal slash.

Ethan hoped he landed the hit, but he met no resistance. He turned, only to see Desmond had retreated, his Valkyrie robes fluttered in the wind of his own making. He looked untouched, until his robes fell open, revealing his bare chest. A thin red line trickled with blood. He brought his hand up and touched it.

"You dare!" he stated, looking past Ethan and into the distance. Ethan did dare. In fact he wished it was deeper. But even with his body cultivation awakened, even with aura, which was subtly starting to be created from his body as time passed, he still couldn't track his own movements when he used [Mana Infusion] to a higher extent. Ethan charged towards him again. Desmond had created space, using his wind to his advantage. Desmond's hand dropped from his chest and he focused once again on Ethan.

He shifted his stance but didn't show any elaborate movements, the only thing that signaled Ethan an attack was coming, was the mana swirling through the air. Still, he was too slow to react. The spell hit him square in the chest, it felt like being hit by a sledgehammer. His armor absorbed most of it, but the force still drove into him, pushing him back before [Steadfast] locked him in place. The sand beneath his boots split as he leaned forward.

Ethan looked up, only to see Desmond's hands moving in spinning motions. Sand spun around him in a storm, even affecting the other Valkyries that were engaged with the Broken Dawns. It hit against Ethan's helmet, forcing him to squint his eyes even further and focus more on [Keen Sense] than his own vision. As Desmond moved, the sand followed his movements, making Ethan eternally grateful. A stream of sand swept low, then arced upward mid-path, forcing Ethan to adjust as he blocked the attack.

He caught part of it on his blade, but the redirected force clipped his side and twisted his torso. Before he could fully recover, a second strike slammed into his shoulder, followed by a third that drove into his chest. His armor creaked and he felt pressure hit him as his armor dented inwards. Ethan was thrown backwards, he rolled to a stop and came back up on his feet, ready to block or dodge the follow-up attack. But instead Desmond was looking off to the dunes once more. Ethan exhaled slowly through his teeth.

Beside him, a Valkyrie Warrior rushed forward, sword swinging down towards Ethan's neck. Ethan brought his sword up, deflecting the attack and spun, kicking the man's legs out from beneath him. His sword followed shortly after, slicing through the warriors neck. Ethan stood, enhancing his body with [Mana Infusion] and focusing on [Keen Sense] as he advanced. Desmond shifted back, the wind rising with him, sand lifting and spinning as he forced Ethan to fight the terrain as much as the attacks.

A gust slammed into Ethan's legs, destabilizing him, but he planted harder. [Steadfast] dug in. Another hit followed immediately, aimed at his midsection. Ethan raised his arm and took it on the reinforced plates, then stepped through the remainder of the attack and cut the distance again. Desmonds eyes widened, as Ethan moved closer and closer. A circular current formed around Ethan's lower body, dragging at his legs while a second current struck high.

The two forces worked together, one trying to pin him, the other to knock him off balance. Ethan's footing broke for a fraction of a second, his stance shifting unevenly as the sand gave way beneath him. The next hit smashed into his leg, [Steadfast] tried to fight it, forcing one leg to stay in place, while the other was ripped from the ground against Ethan's will. He sucked in a breath as his leg bent at an awkward angle, his tendons straining against the movement.

When the current passed, Ethan fell to a knee as his leg gave out. Ethan wanted to curse, mages were always annoying to fight. Especially ones that focused on air. Ethan looked inwards. With body cultivation awakened, it opened access to process the shape of his body to an extremely high degree, as he became more in tune with it. So he quickly noticed the ligaments in his knee had been ripped to shreds. Although it was painful, Ethan knew he could work through it. However, he no longer needed to.

Ethan drew from his aura. The energy wasn't stored in any one place, instead it sat through his entire body, and would grow denser and denser as he advanced his body cultivation. Now, he needed it. Ethan coaxed it to move, and unlike mana, the energy obeyed. The feeling was akin to waking up a limb he had always had but forgotten about. It responded in a groggy manner, but eager to answer.

He focused on his knee, sending the energy into his ligaments, letting it soak into the damaged areas and watched as it stitched back together. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Ethan stood, feeling pissed off. Desmond was close, only a ten or so yards away and looking ready to attack again. Fuck he hated mages. Ethan opened the gates to his core.

Letting [Mana Infusion] suck greedily from his reserves, before also sending his aura to enhance his leg muscles. For a split second the battlefield stilled. Through [Keen Sense] he could feel fighting all around him. More of the Valkyries had responded to their attack. Now, his small troop were being pushed back, he could already see a few lying in the sand, unmoving. Even if they were losing the over all battle, Ethan and his team were still in a shit position.

Logically it had been a silly idea to split from their forces. It was dangerous and reckless. And something Ethan wouldn't normally do. However, in a situation like this, where they could be fractured rather easily if they lost their leadership, it was the only plan that made sense. Ethan was tired of seeing people die. Of humanity fighting amongst themselves, when they should be strengthening each other for the challenges to come.

So as he felt his legs begin to tingle from the two opposing energies, his entire focus narrowed on one of the main culprits. Desmond was halfway through a movement. Likely ready to cast another spell. Ethan wasn't having it. He finally let go. His muscles tightened until he launched forward, so fast he had to guess when to strike. His sword carved through the air. The blade struck something as he felt the edge bite through minimal resistance. His body followed, smashing into Desmond.

He came to a stop and turned, having misjudged how far he needed to travel. Desmond hit the ground. Ethan advanced, ready to attack again, but a current of air burst Desmond from the ground and several yards away. Ethan smiled as he looked where Desmond had been, then back up at the man. His arm was missing. Still laying in the sand in a puddle of blood. Ethan had been aiming for his chest, so he must have moved out of the way at the last moment. But Ethan would take it.

Still, he desperately needed better perception to keep up with his attacks. Right now he was relying on pure instinct and skill"Call them off and I won't kill you," Ethan stated, while bringing his sword in front of him, once more. Desmond looked at his missing arm, his face going pale. Then once again, he looked around the battlefield and muttered to himself.

"What was that?" Ethan asked, having only picked up a few words. Desmond looked at him, venom in his gaze.

"You'll be dead soon anyway." With that, he pulled something from his robe and tried to pull the cork off. Ethan responded immediately. He rushed forwards once more. His next strike came low, forcing Desmond to react and forget about taking whatever potion that was. The mage twisted, redirecting the attack with a burst of wind. It was a good use of his skill but Ethan flowed with the attack, shifting his weight forward before driving a kick into Desmond's midsection.

The impact connected cleanly, sending him stumbling back through the sand and dropping the potion. Desmond caught himself with the wind, but overcompensated, almost falling to the side as he steadied himself. Mana flooded Ethan's legs, pushing his speed higher as he drove forward. The wind lashed out again, but this time he didn't slow. He took the hit across his shoulder, let another glance off his chest, and forced his way through the space Desmond had tried to create. The distance collapsed and Ethan swung.

Desmond twisted, barely avoiding the full strike as the blade carved across his side. Blood followed immediately, staining his robes as his footing broke. The impact slammed Desmond backward, knocking him off balance completely. He hit the ground again. Ethan raised his sword to finish it. The man was as good as done, blood was pooling from his stomach and his missing arm. Originally, Ethan was going to try and get answers from him.

But with the way everything was unfolding, it would be better to just kill him and end this fight. His sword descended in finality. As the blade kissed his neck, the ground erupted. The blast hit him point-blank, lifting him off his feet and throwing him backward across the sand. He rolled with the impact before forcing himself back up, dragging his sword into position as he rose.

In the distance, a Valkyrie shifted his feet, ready to cast another spell, before one of the Broken Dawns stabbed through his back and out his chest. By the time he steadied himself, Desmond was already moving. He didn't try to re-engage. He turned and ran towards the dunes he had been watching the entire fight. The wind surged wildly around him, kicking up sand in every direction as it propelled him forward. A blood trail followed him as he pushed his way through the fighting Valkyries.

"Like hell," Ethan muttered. Mana flooded his body again, pushing his speed as he chased, cutting through the others fighting around him. Some stopped their fighting, watching as their leader tried to escape. Ethan took that as his moment. He needed something to show them. Something to cower them into obedience and absolute surrender. Ethan called on his aura once more. He felt it answer, but this time, instead of sending it through his body, he forced it to extend out of him.

The moment it left his body, it felt wrong. Unstable. Like forcing something unfinished into a shape it couldn't hold. Pain lanced through his muscles as the aura bled past his skin and into the space around him. It was a skill far too advanced for his current body to handle and far too aura hungry for the reserves he had. So his body erupted in pain, as his aura stirred awake and into the living world. —~~— Desmond ran.

He had no idea where this man in armor had come from, but it hadn't taken long to realize he was outclassed. His mana was depleting fast, already pushed too far, and he still hadn't recovered from his humiliating loss against Armon. Blood poured from where his left arm had once been. He clutched his stomach with his remaining hand, his insides threatening to spill free with every step. He forced mana into the wound, trying to hold himself together through [Mana Manipulation], but it wasn't working.

He didn't have a healing skill, and what he was doing now was crude, inefficient, and failing. He stumbled, nearly going down, but a gust of wind answered his call and caught him, dragging him forward another few yards. Desmond looked back and felt his chest tighten as the armored figure continued after him, unrelenting and closing the distance no matter how hard he pushed himself. He turned forward again, eyes locking onto the dunes ahead where reinforcements had been promised. There was nothing there.

No movement. No figures cresting the horizon. No sign that anyone was coming. Had they abandoned him? His thoughts churned as he ran, spiraling between panic and desperation. As long as they were there, he would survive. That was all that mattered. The rest didn't matter. Not the Valkyries, not the level, not the war. Power was the only thing that had ever mattered. Back on Earth, he had nothing. Here, he had been given a chance. The trials offered it, and so had the necromancer. A path forward.

A path to something greater. If only that fool hadn't lost. If only that kid hadn't interfered. It was all that damn kid's fault. His thoughts cut off as something pressed down on him. The feeling was nothing like mana. It was cold and absolute. It sank deep into his bones and made his instincts scream. Desmond faltered as a presence descended over him, vast and suffocating, like something far beyond him had fixed its gaze on his back. He tried to call on the wind, but nothing answered.

He reached for the ambient mana, grasping for anything he could pull into himself, but it was gone. Panic surged as he forced [Mana Manipulation] into action, trying to drag even the smallest thread of energy into his control. There was nothing there. The air felt empty. Dead. Desmond slowed, his footing breaking as he turned, his breath coming in uneven bursts. The man in armor was right behind him, that massive sword hanging in his hand, blood dripping from its edge in slow, steady drops.

Each one struck the sand with a faint hiss. Desmond frowned, his thoughts struggling to catch up. That wasn't right. He looked down and froze for a fraction of a second as his vision finally caught up with reality. The sand beside him had turned black, like the land itself was poisoned and dying, as if something was eating through it. Each step the armored figure took spread it further, the ground degrading under his presence.

He shuffled back, heart hammering in his chest, trying to escape whatever this was, but the pressure only grew stronger. It settled over him fully now, crushing and absolute, until his body simply stopped responding. It was as if something had decided he wasn't allowed to. Desmond's gaze lifted slowly, drawn upward despite himself, until it met the narrow slit of the helm. Through it, he saw eyes staring back at him, green and slitted, watching him like prey that had already been caught.

The blackened sand reached his feet and burned as it touched his skin, a sharp, biting sensation that made his breath hitch. He tried to move, to step back, to do anything at all, but nothing responded.

"You should have just surrendered." The voice was calm, flat, and final, leaving no room for argument or hope. Desmond opened his mouth, trying to speak, to beg, to say anything that might save him, but no words came. His body remained frozen, his thoughts unraveling as the shadow of the blade rose above him. The sword fell like a fang of a mighty beast. Desmond closed his eyes.